May fend forth plenteous Tears to drown the World. Chil. Were never Orphans had fo dear a Lofs. Dorf. Comfort, dear Mother; God is much difpleas'd, That you take with unthankfulness his doing. In common worldly Things 'tis call'd ungrateful, Rivers. Madam, bethink you like a careful Mother Glo. Sifter, have comfort, all of us have caufe I crave your Bleffing. Dutch. God bless thee, and put Meekness in thy Breast, Love, Charity, Obedience, and true Duty. I 3 Gl.. Glo. Amen, and make me die a good old Man, Buck. You cloudy Princes, and heart-forrowing Peers, My Lord of Buckingham? Buck. Marry, my Lord, left, by a Multitude, Glo. I hope the King made Peace with all of us, Riv. And fo in me, and fo, I think, in all, Which haply by much Company might be urg'd; That it is meet fo few fhould fetch the Prince. Glo. Then be it fo, and go we to determine Who they shall be that ftreight fhall poft to London. To give your Cenfures in this Bufinefs? [Exeunt, [Manent Buckingham and Gloucefter. Buck. My Lord, whoever journies to the Prince, For God's fake let not us two ftay at home; For by the way, I'll for: occafion, As 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 fast? 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. I 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. 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 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, Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. O full of danger is the Duke of Glo'fter, I 4 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: 3 Cit. Before the days of Change, ftill is it fo; 2 Cit. Marry we were fent for to the Justices. SCENE IV. [Exeunt. 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; York. Ay, Mother, but I would not have it fo. 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 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. York. Marry, they fay, my Uncle grew fo faft, Dutch. I prithee, pretty Tork, who told thee this? Dutch. His Nurfe! why she 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, Prisoners. Dutch. Who hath committed them? Mef. The mighty Dukes, Glo'fter and Buckingham. Mef. The fum of all I can, I have difclos'd: Queen. Ah me! I fee the ruin of my House; The Tiger now hath feiz'd the gentle Hind. Infulting Tyranny begins to jut Upon |