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Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanc
tuary. Madam, farewell. Duch.
Stay, I will go with you.
My gracious lady, go,
[To the Queen. And thither bear your treasure and your goods. For my part, I'll resign unto your grace The seal I keep ; And so betide to me, As well I tender you, and all of yours ! Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. [Exeunt.
ACT III. '
SCENE I. The same. A Street.
The trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of Wales,Glos
TER, BUCKINGHAM, Cardinal BOUCHIER, and others.
Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your
chamber. Glo. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sove
reign : 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,
were none. Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to
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
[Exeunt Mayor, &c. I thought my mother, and my brother York, Would long ere this have met us on the way : Fye, what a slug is Hastings! that he comes not To tell us, whether they will come, or no.
Enter Hastings. Buck. And in good time, here comes the sweating
lord. Prince. Welcome, my lord: What, will our mo
ther 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. Fye! what an indirect and peevish course
Is this of hers?-Lord cardinal, will your grace
Card. My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory
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
Hast. I go, my
Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me?
lord. Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you
may. [Exeunt Cardinal and HASTINGS. Say, uncle 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 characters, fame lives long.
Prince. That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;
Buck, What, my gracious lord ?
2 Sensible více, the buffoon in the old plays.
I'll win our ancient right in France again,
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
Prince. Ay, brother; to our grief, as
yours : Too late 4 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,
Glo. He hath, my lord,
And therefore is he idle ? Glo. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. York. Then is he more beholden to you, than I. Glo. He may command me, as my sovereign ; have power
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,