SCENE 1. The same. A Street.

The Trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE of WALES, GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, CARDINAL BOURCHIER, and others.

Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.

Glo. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign: The weary way hath made you melancholy.

Prince. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy :

I want more uncles here to welcome me.

Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit :

No more can you distinguish of a man,

Than of his outward show; which, God he knows,
Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart.
Those uncles, which you want, were dangerous;
Your grace attended to their sugar'd words,
But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:

God keep you from them, and from such false friends!
Prince. God keep me from false friends! but they

were none.

[you. Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet

Enter the LORD MAYOR and his Train. May. God bless your grace with health and happy days! Prince. I thank you, good my lord ;-and thank you all.— [Exeunt Mayor, &c. I thought my mother, and my brother York, Would long ere this have met us on the way:Fie, what a slug is Hastings! that he comes not To tell us, whether they will come, or no.

Buck. And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord.

Prince. Welcome, my lord: What, will our mother

come?

Hast. On what occasion, God he knows, not I,
The queen your mother, and your brother York,
Have taken sanctuary: The tender prince

Would fain have come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.

Buck. Fie! what an indirect and peevish course
Is this of hers!-Lord cardinal, will your grace
Persuade the queen to send the duke of York
Unto his princely brother presently?

If she deny,-lord Hastings, go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.

Card. My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory Can from his mother win the duke of York,

Anon expect him here: But if she be obdurate
To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
We should infringe the holy privilege

Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land,
Would I be guilty of so deep a sin.

Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,

Too ceremonious, and traditional :

Weigh it but with the grossness of this age,
You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
The benefit thereof is always granted

To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place:
This prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deserv'd it;

And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it:
Then, taking him from thence, that is not there,
You break no privilege nor charter there.
Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;

But sanctuary children, ne'er till now.

Card. My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for once.Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me? Hast. I go, my lord.

Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you [Exeunt Cardinal and Hastings.

may.

Say, unele Gloster, if our brother come,

Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?
Glo, Where it seems best unto your royal self.
If I may counsel you, some day, or two,

Your highness shall repose you at the Tower:
Then where you please, and shall be thought most fit
For your best health and recreation.

Prince. I do not like the Tower, of any place:→→
Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord?

Glo. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place;
Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified.
Prince. Is it upon record? or else reported
Successively from age to age he built it?
Buck. Upon record, my gracious lord.
Prince. But say, my lord, it were not register'd;
Methinks, the truth should live from age to age,
As 'twere retail'd to all posterity,

Even to the general all-ending day.

Glo. So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live

long.

[Aside.

Prince. What say you, uncle?

Glo. I say, without charácters, fame lives long.

Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,

I moralize two meanings in one word.

Prince. That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;

With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit set down, to make his valour live:
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.-
I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham.

Aside..

Buck. What, my gracious lord?

Prince. An if I live until I be a man,

I'll win our ancient right in France again,
Or die a soldier, as I liv'd a king.

Glo. Short summers lightly have a forward spring.

Aside.

Enter YORK, HASTINGS, and the CARDINAL. Buck. Now, in good time, here comes the duke of

York,

Prince. Richard of York! how fares our loving brother?

York. Well, my dread lord; so must I call you now. Prince. Ay, brother; to our grief, as it is yours: Too late he died, that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much majesty.

Glo. How fares our cousin, noble lord of York?
York. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord,
You said, that idle weeds are fast in growth:
The prince, my brother, hath outgrown me far.
Glo. He hath, my lord.
York.

And therefore is he idle?
Glo. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so.
York. Then is he more beholden to you, than
Glo. He may command me, as my sovereign;
But you have power in me, as in a kinsman.
York. I pray you, uncle, then give me this dagger.
Glo. My dagger, little cousin? with all my heart.
Prince. A beggar, brother?

York. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give; And, being but a toy, which is no grief to give. Glo. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin. York. A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it? Glo. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough. York. O then, I see, you'll part but with light gifts; In weightier things you'll say a beggar, nay. Glo. It is top weighty for your grace to wear. York. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.

Glo. What, would you have my weapon, little lord? York. I would, that I might thank you as you call me.

Glo. How?

York. Little.

Prince. My lord of York will still be cross in talk:— Uncle, your grace knows how to bear with him.

York. You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me :-Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me; Because that I am little, like an ape,

He thinks that you should bear me on

your

shoulders.

Buck. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons! To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle, He prettily and aptly taunts himself:

So cunning, and so young, is wonderful.

Glo. My gracious lord, will't please you pass along? Myself, and my good cousin Buckingham, Will to your mother; to entreat of her,

To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you.

York. What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord?
Prince. My lord protector needs will have it so.
York. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.
Glo. Why, sir, what should you fear?

York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost;
My grandam told me, he was murder'd there.
Prince. I fear no uncles dead.

Glo. Nor none that live, I hope.

Prince. An if they live, I hope, I need not fear. But come, my lord, and, with a heavy heart, Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower.

[Exeunt Prince, York, Hast. Card. and Attend. Buck. Think you, my lord, this little prating York Was not incensed by his subtle mother,

To taunt and scorn you thus opprobiously?

Glo. No doubt, no doubt: O, tis a parlous boy ;
Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable;
He's all the mother's, from the top to toe.
Buck. Well, let them rest.

Come hither, gentle Catesby; thou art sworn
As deeply to effect what we intend,

As closely to conceal what we impart:

Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way;-
What think'st thou? is it not an easy matter