As Index to the Story we lately talk'd of, To part the Queen's proud Kindred from the Prince. SCENE III. [Exeunt. Enter one Citizen at one Door, and another at the other. 1 Cit. Good morrow, Neighbour, whither away fo faft 2 Cit. I promise you I hardly know my felf: Hear you the News abroad? 1 Cit. Yes, the King is dead. 2 Cit. Ill News by'r Lady, feldom comes the better: I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy World. Enter another Citizen. 3 Cit. Neighbours, God fpeed. 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 Mafters look to fee a troublous World. 1 Cit. No, no, by God's good Grace, his Son fhall Reign. 3 Cit. Wo to that Land that's govern'd by a Child. 2 Cit. In him there is a hope of Government: Which in his Non-age, Counfel under him, And in his full and ripened Years, himself No doubt fhall then, and 'till then govern well. 1 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 politick 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, ? And And the Queen's Sons, and Brothers, haught and 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; When the Sun fets, who doth not look for Night? Untimely Storms 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 reason, 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 inftin&t Mens Minds miftruft Pursuing Danger; as by proof we fee The Water (well before a boift'rous Storm; 2 Cit. Marry we were fent for to the Juftices. 3 Cit. And fo was I, I'll bear you Company. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Enter Archbishop of York, the young Duke of York, the Arch. Laft Night I heard they lay at Stony Stratford, Dutch. I long with all my Heart to fee the Prince; Tork. Ay, Mother, but I would not have it fo. More than my Brother. Ay, quoth my Uncle Glofter, Small Herbs have Grace, great Weeds do grow apace. And fince, methinks I would not grow fo faft, Because sweet Flowers are flow, and Weeds make haste. Dutch. Dutch. Good faith, good faith, the faying did not hold In him that did object the fame to thee. He was the wretched'ft thing when he was young, That if his Rule were true, he should be gracious, I prithee let me hear it. Tork. Marry, they fay, my Uncle grew fo faft, Dutch. His Nurfe! why fhe was dead e'er thou waft born. Enter a Messenger. Arch. Here comes a Meffenger: What News? Mef. Well, Madam, and in Health. Dutch. What is thy News? Mef. Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey, Are fent to Pomfret, and with them Sir Thomas Vaughan, Prifoners. Dutch. Who hath committed them? Mef. The mighty Dukes, Glo'fter and Buckingham. Arch. For what Offence? Mef. The fum of all I can, I have disclos'd: Upon Upon the innocent and awless Throne; Dutch. Accurfed and unquiet wrangling Days, Queen. Come, come, my Boy, we will to Sanctuary. Madam, farewel. Dutch. Stay, I will go with you. Arch. My gracious Lady, go, And thither bear your Treasure and your Goods, For my part, I'll refign unto your Grace The Seal I keep, and fo betide it me, ACT III. SCENE I. [Exeunt. The Trumpets found. Enter Prince of Wales, the Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham, Archbishop, with others. Buck. W Elcome sweet Prince to London, Το your Chamber. Glo. Welcome dear Coufin, my thoughts Sovereign, The weary way hath made you Melancholy. Prince. No, Uncle, but our crosses on the Way Have made it tedious, wearifom 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 No more can you distinguish of a Man, Than of his outward fhew, which, God he knows, But they were none. Glo. 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 Tork, Would long e'er this have met us on the way. Fie, 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 fweating Lord. The Queen your Mother, and your Brother York, Would fain have come with me to meet your Grace, If the deny, Lord Haftings, you go with him, Anon expect him here; but if the be obdurate We should infringe the holy Privilege Of bleffed San&uary; not for all this Land Would I be guilty of fo great Sin. Buck. You are too fenfelefs obftinate, my Lord, Too ceremonious and traditional. |