Enter another Citizen.

3 Cit. Neighbours, God speed!

1 Cit. Give you good morrow, Sir.

3 Cit. Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death?

2 Cit. Ay, Sir, it is too true; God help, the while! 3 Cit. Then, masters, look to fee a troublous world. 1 Cit. No, no, by God's good grace his fon fhall reign.

3 Cit. Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child! 2 Cit. In him there is a hope of government, Which in his nonage, council under him, And, in his full and ripen'd years, himself, No doubt fhall then, and till then, govern well. I Cit. So ftood the state when Henry the Sixth Was crown'd in Paris, but at nine months old. 3 Cit. Stood the state fo? no, no, good friends, God wot;

For then this land was famoufly enrich'd
With politic grave counfel; then the King
Had virtuous uncles to protect his Grace.

1 Cit. Why, fo hath this, both by his father and mother.

3 Cit. Better it were they all came by his father, Or by his father there were none at all:

For emulation who fhall now be nearest,

Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. I
O, full of danger is the Duke of Glo’ster;

And the Queen's fons and brothers haughty, proud;
And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,
This fickly land might folace as before.

1 Cit. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well.

3 Cit. When clouds are feen, wife men put on their cloaks;

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;

The word which has no antecedent, nor can the fenfe or connection be easily restored by any change... 1 believe a line to be loft, in which fome, mention was made of the land or the people. Johnfon.,

When the fun fets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely ftorms make men expect a dearth.
All may be well; but if God fort it fo,
Tis more than we deferve, or I expect.

2 Cit. Truly the hearts of men are full of fear;
You cannot reafon almost with a man
That looks not heavily, and full of dread.
3 Cit. Before the days of change ftill is it fo;
By a divine instinct men's minds miftruft
Enfuing danger; as by proof we see,
The waters fwell before a boift'rous ftorm.
But leave it all to God.
Whither away?

2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the Justices.
3 Cit. And fo was I, P'll bear you company. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Changes to the Court.

Enter Archbishop of York, the young Duke of York, the Queen, and the Duchefs of York.

Arch. I heard they lay the last night at Nor-
thampton,

At Stony Stratford they do reft to night;
To-morrow, or next day, they will be here.
Duch. I long with all my heart to fee the Prince;"
I hope he is much grown fince laft I faw him.
Queen. But I hear not; they lay my fon of York
Has almoft over-ta'en him in his growth..

York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it fo. Duch. Why, my young coufin, it is good to grow. York. Grandam, one night as we did fit at supper, My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow

More than my brother. Ay', quoth my uncle Glo'fter, Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace. And fince, methinks, I would not grow fo faft, Because sweet flow'rs are flow, and weeds make haste. Duch. Good faith, good faith, the faying did not In him that did object the fame to thee.

[hold He was the wretched'ft thing when he was young; So long a growing, and fo lekurely,

That, if his rule were true, he fhould be gracious.

York. And fo, no doubt, he is, my gracious Madam, Duch. I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt. York. Now, by my troth, if I had been rememI could have giv'n my uncle's Grace a flout [ber'd, To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine. Duch. How, my young York? I pr'ythee, let me hear it.

York. Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast, That he could gnaw a cruft at two hours old; "Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. Duch. I pr'ythee, pretty York, who told thee this? York. Grandam, his nurfe.

Duch. His nurfe! why, fhe was dead ere thou waft born.

York. If 'twere not fhe, I cannot tell who told me. Queen. A per'lous boy-go to, you are too shrewd. Duch. Good Madam, be not angry with a child. Queen. Pitchers have ears.

Enter a Meffenger.

Arch. Here comes a Meffenger: what news? Melf. Such news, my Lord, as grieves me to report. Queen. How doth the Prince?

Me. Well, Madam, and in health.

Duck. What is thy news?

Melf. Lord Rivers and Lord Gray are fent to
Pomfret,

With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prifoners.
Duch. Who hath committed them?

Me. The mighty Dukes,

Glo'fter and Buckingham.
Queen. For what offence?

Me. The fum of all I can, I have difclos'd:
Why or for what the Nobles were committed,
Is all unknown to me, my gracious Lady.
Queen. Ah me! I fee the ruin of my house;
The tyger now hath feiz'd the gentle hind.
Infulting tyranny begins to jut
Upon the innocent and awless throne;
Welcome, deftruction, blood and maffacre!
I fee, as in a map, the end of all.

Duch. Accurfed and unquiet wrangling days!
How many of you have mine eyes beheld?
My husband, loft his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my fons were toft,
For me to joy and weep, their gain and lofs.
And being feated, and domeftic broils
Clean over-blown, themfelves the conquerors
Make war upon themfelves, blood against blood,
Self against self. O most prepofterous

And frantic outrage! end thy damned spleen,
Or let me die, to look on death no more.

Queen. Come, come, my boy, we will to fanctuary. -Madam, farewell.

Duch. Stay, I will go with you,
Queen. You have no cause."

Arch. My gracious Lady, go,

And thither bear your treafure and your goods.
For my part, I'll refign unto your Grace
The seal I keep; and so betide it me,
As well I tender you, and all of yours!
-Go, I'll conduct you to the fanctuary. [Exeunt.

A CT III.

SCENE I.

In London.

The trumpets found. Enter Prince of Wales, the Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham, Archbishop, with others.

Buckingham.

Welcome, fweet Prince, to London, to your

Glou. Welcome, dear coufin, my thought's Soye

reign;

The weary way hath made you melancholy.
Prince. No, uncle, but our croffes on the way
Have made it tedious, wearifome and heavy.
I want more uncles here to welcome me.

1

*London-was anciently called Camera regia. Pope. 'VOL. VI. D d

Glou. Sweet Prince, th' untainted virtue of your Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit, [years Nor more can you distinguish of a man,

Than of his outward fhew, which, God he knows,
Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart.
Thofe uncles which you want were dangerous;
Your Grace attended to their fugar'd words,
But look'd not on the poifon of their hearts.
God keep you from them, and from fuch falfe friends!
Prince. God keep me from false friends! but they

were none.

Glou. My Lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet you.

Enter Lord Mayor.

Mayor. God bless your Grace with health and happy days!

Prince. I thank you, good my Lord, and thank you all.

I thought my mother, and my brother York,
Would long ere this have met us on the way.
Fy, what a flug is Haftings? that he comes not
To tell us whether they will come or no.

Enter Lord Haftings.

Buck. And in good time here comes the sweating Lord.

Prince. Welcome, my Lord; what, will our mother come?

Haft. On what occasion God he knows, not I, The Queen your mother and your brother York Have taken fanctuary; the tender' Prince

Would fain have come with me to meet your Grace, But by his mother was perforce with-held.

Buck. Fy, what an indirect and peevish courfe Is this of hers? Lord Cardinal, will your Grace Perfuade the Queen to fend the Duke of York Unto his princely brother prefently?

If fhe deny, Lord Haftings, you go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.

Arch. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oraCan from his mother win the Duke of York, [tory