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 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 And the Queen's fons and brothers haughty, proud; 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? 2 Cit. Truly the hearts of men are full of fear; 2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the Justices. 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- At Stony Stratford they do reft to night; 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 With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prifoners. Me. The mighty Dukes, Glo'fter and Buckingham. Me. The fum of all I can, I have difclos'd: Duch. Accurfed and unquiet wrangling days! And frantic outrage! end thy damned spleen, Queen. Come, come, my boy, we will to fanctuary. -Madam, farewell. Duch. Stay, I will go with you, Arch. My gracious Lady, go, And thither bear your treafure and your goods. 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. 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, 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, 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, Arch. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oraCan from his mother win the Duke of York, [tory |