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Glo. Amen, and make me die a good old Man,
That is the butt end of a Mother's Bleffing;
I marvel that her Grace did leave it out.

Buck. You cloudy Princes, and heart-forrowing Peers,
That bear this mutual heavy load of Moan,
Now cheer each other in each others Love;
Though we have spent our Harveft of this King,
We are to reap the Harveft of his Son.

The broken rancor of your high-fwoln hates,
But lately splinter'd, knit and join'd together,
Muft gently be preferv'd, cherisht and kept:
Me feemeth good, that with fome little Train,
Forthwith from Ludlow the young Prince be fet
Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.
Riv. Why with fome little Train,
My Lord of Buckingham?

Buck. Marry, my Lord, left, by a Multitude,
The new-heal'd wound of Malice fhould break out,
Which would be fo much the more dangerous,
By how much the Eftate is green, and yet ungovern'd.
Where every Horfe bears his commanding Rein,
And may direct his courfe as please himself,
As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent,
In my Opinion, ought to be prevented.

Glo. I hope the King made Peace with all of us,
And the compact is firm and true in me.
Riv. And fo in me, and fo, I think, in all,
Yet fince it is but green it should be put
To no apparent likelyhood of breach,

Which haply by much Company might be urg'd;
Therefore I fay, with Noble Buckingham,

That it is meer fo few fhould fetch the Prince.
Haft. And fo fay I.

Glo. Then be it fo, and go we to determine

Who they fhall be that ftreight fhall poft to London.
Madam, and you my Sifter, will you go

To give your Cenfures in this Bufinefs?

[Excunt.

[Manent Buckingham and Gloucefter. Buck. My Lord, whoever journies to the Prince, For God's take let not us two ftay at home; For by the way, El fort occafion,

As

As Index to the Story we lately talk'd of,

To part the Queen's proud Kindred from the Prince.
Glo. My other felf, my Counfel's Confiftory,
My Oracle, my Prophet, my dear Coufin,
I, as a Child, will go by thy direction.
Toward London then, for we'll not stay behind.

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SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Enter one Citizen at one Door, and another at the other.

1 Cit. Good morrow, Neighbour, whither away so fast? 2 Cit. I promife you I hardly know my self:

Hear you the News abroad?

I 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.

Exter another Citizen.

3 Cit. Neighbours, God speed.

I 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 shall 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 note 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 Glofter,

And

And the Queen's Sons, and Brothers, baught and proud:
And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,

This fickly Land might folace as before.

I 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 mike 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 reafon, almoft, 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 inftinct Mens Minds miftruft
Purfuing Danger; as by proof we fee

The Water fwell before a boift'rous Storm;
But leave it all to God, whither away?

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
Queen, and the Dutchefs.

Arch. Laft Night I heard they lay at Stony Stratford,
And at Northampton they do reft to Night:
To monow or next day they will be here.

Dutch. I long with all my Heart to fee the Prince;

I hope he is much grown fince laft I faw him.
Queen. But I hear no, they fay my Son of York

Has almoft overtaken him in his growth.

York. Ay, Mother, but I would not have it fo.
Dutch. Why, my good 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 Glofter,
Small Herbs have Grace, great Weeds do grow apace.
And fince, methinks I won'd not grow fo faft,

Becaufe fweet Flowers are flow, and Weeds make hafte.

Duich.

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,
So long a growing, and fo leifurely,

That if his Rule were true, he fhould be gracious.
York. And fo no doubt he is, my gracious Madam.
Dutch. I hope he is, but yet let Mothers doubt.
York. Now by my troth, if I had been remembred,
I could have given my Uncle's Grace a flout
To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine.
Dutch. How, my young York,

I prithee let me hear it.

York. Marry, they fay, my Uncle grew fo faft,
That he could gnaw a Cruft at two hours old;
'Twas full two years e'er I could get a Tooth.
Grandam, this would have been a biting Jeft.
Dutch. I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this?
Tork. Grandam, his Nurfe.

Dutch. His Nurfe! why fhe was dead e'er thou waft born.
York. If 'twere not fhe, I cannot tell who told mc.
Queen. A parlous Boy-Go to, you are too fhrewd.
Dutch. Good Madam, be not angry with a Child.
Queen. Pitchers have Ears.

Enter a Meffenger.

Arch. Here comes a Meffenger: What News?
Mef.Such News, my Lord, as grieves me to report.
Queen. How doth the Prince?

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'fler and Buckingham.
Arch. For what Offence?

Mef. The fum of all I can, I have difclos'd:
Why, or for what, the Nobles were committed,
Is all unknown to me, my gracious Lord.

Queen. Ah me! I fee the ruin of my Houfe; The Tiger now hath feiz'd the gentle Hind. Infulting Tyranny begins to jut

Upon

Upon the innocent and awless Throne;
Welcome Destruction, Blood and Maffacre,
I fee, as in a Map, the end of all.

Dutch. Accurfed and unquiet wrangling Days,
How many of you have mine Eyes beheld;
My Husband loft his Life to get the Crown,
And often up and down my Sons were toft,
For me to joy and weep, their gain and lofs.
And being feated, and Domeftick broils

Clean over blown, themselves, the Conquerors,
Make War upon themselves, Brother to Brother,
Blood to Blood, felf against felf: O prepoft'rous
And frantick Outrage! end thy damned Spleen,
Or let me die, to look on Earth no more.

Queen, Come, come, my Boy, we will to Sanctuary,
Madam, farewel.

Dutch. Stay, I will go with you.
Queen. You have no caufe.

Arch. My gracious Lady, go,

And thither bear your Treafure and your Goods,
For my part, I'll refign unto your Grace
The Scal I keep, and fo betide it me,

As well I tender you, and all of yours.
Go, I'll conduct you to the Sanctuary.

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[Exeunt.

The Trumpets found. Enter Prince of Wales, the Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham, Archbishop, with others.

Buck To Your Chamber.
WE

Elcome fweet Prince to London,

Glo. Welcome dear Coufin, my thoughts Sovereign,

The weary way hath made you Melancholy.

Prince. No, Uncle, but our croffes 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

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