3. Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth: All may be well; but, if God sort it so, 'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect. 2. Cit. Truly, the hearts of men

fear

You cannot reason almost with a man

are full of

That looks not heavily, and full of dread.

3. Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust

Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see

The water swell before a boist'rous storm.
But leave it all to God. Whither away

?

2. Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the justices? 3. Cit. And so was I; I'll bear you company. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter the Archbishop of York, the young Duke of York, Queen ELIZABETH, and the Duchess of York.

Arch. Last night, I heard, they lay at Stouy-
Stratford;

And at Northampton they do rest to-night:
To-morrow, or next day, they will be here.

Duch. I long with all my heart to see the Prince:

I hope, he is much grown since last I saw him.

Q. Eliz. But I hear, no; they say, my son of York

Hath almost overta'en him in his growth.

York Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. Duch: Why, my young Cousin? it is good to grow.

York. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper,

My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow

More than my brother; Ay, quoth my uncle.

anthus Gloster,

Small herbs have grace, great weeds do

grow

And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste."

Duch. 'Good faith', 'good faith, the saying did. not hold

In him that did object the same to thee;
He was the wretch'dst thing, when he was young,
So long a growing, and so leisurely,

That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious,
Arch. And so, 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 remember'd,

I could have given my uncle's grace a flout, 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 crust at two hours old; 'Twas fall 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 nurse.

A

Duch. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wast born.

York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told

Q. Eliz. A parlous boy:Go to, you are too

shrewd, tits

12

Arch. Good Madam, be not angry with the child.se brold at 2.

Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears.

What news?

Mes. Such news, my Lord,

As grieves me to unfold.

Q. Eliz. How doth the Prince?

Mes. Well, Madam, and in health Mosa

Duch. What is thy news?

Mes. Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey, are sent to

Pomfret,

With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.se

*

Duch. Who hath committed them ? ab Mes. The mighty Dakes,

Gloster and Buckingham.

Q. Eliz. For what offence?

Mes. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd; Why, or for what, the nobles were committed, Is all unknown to me, my gracious Lady.

Q. Eliz. Ah me, I see the ruin of my house! The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind; Insulting tyranny begins to jut

1

Upon the innocent and awless throne:
Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre!
I see, as in a map, the end of all.

Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days!
How many of you have mine eyes beheld?
My husband lost his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my sons were tost,
For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loss;
And being seated, and domestick broils

Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors,
Makear
awar upon themselves; brother to brother,
Blood to blood, self 'gainst self:

posterous

prem

And frantick outrage, end thy damned spleen;
Or let me die, to look ou death no more!
Q. Eliz, Come, come, my boy, we will to

Madam, farewell.

sanctuary.

Duch. Stay, I will go with you.

Q. Eliz. You have no cause.
Arch. My gracious Lady, go.

to the Quesa.

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 ine,
As well I tender you, and all of yours!
Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.c

ACT III. SCENE I

The same. A Street.

The trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of Wa les, 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 dishinguish of a man,

F

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

Prince. God keep

Glo. My Lord, the

friends!

me from false friends; but
they were none.
mayor of London comes to
greet you.

Enter the Lord Mayor, and his Train.

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