As index' to the story we late talk'd of, To part the queen's proud kindred from the prince. Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Street. Enter Two Citizens, meeting. 1 Cit. Good morrow, neighbour: Whither away so fast? 2 Cit. I promise you, I scarcely know myself: Hear you the news abroad? 1 Cit. Yes; the king's dead. 2 Cit. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy world. 1 Cit. Enter another Citizen. 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; 3 Cit. Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. 1 Cit. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall reign. 3 Cit. Woe to that land, that's govern'd by a child! 2 Cit. In him there is a hope of government; That in his nonage', council under him, And, in his full and ripen'd years, himself, No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. 9 i. c. Preparatory. I Minority. 1 Cit. So stood the state, when Henry the sixth Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. 3 Cit. Stood the state so? no, no, good friends, not so; For then this land was famously enrich'd With politick grave counsel; then the king his grace. 1 Cit. Why, so 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 now, who shall be nearest, Will touch us all too near, if heaven prevent not. O, full of danger is the duke of Gloster; And the queen's sons, and brothers, haught and proud: And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, 1 Cil. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well. 3 Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; 2 Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: You cannot reason almost with a man 2 That looks not heavily, and full of dread. 3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: By a divine instínct, 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. 2 Converse. SCENE IV. 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 Stony- And at Northampton they do rest to-night: Duch. I long with all my heart to see the prince; 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 sitat supper, My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow More than my brother; Ay, quoth my uncle Gloster, Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace: 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 wretched'st thing, when he was young, So long a growing, and so leisurely, That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious. I could have given my uncle's grace a flout, 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 full 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. Duch. His nurse? why, she was dead ere thou wast born. York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. Q. Eliz. A parlous boy: Go to, you are too shrewd. 3 Arch. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears. What is thy news? Mess. Well, madam, and in health. Duch. Mess. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, are sent to Pomfret, With them sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. Duch. Who hath committed them? Mess. Gloster and Buckingham. Q. Eliz. The mighty dukes, For what offence? Mess. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd; Q. Eliz. Ah me, I see the ruin of my house! 3 Perilous, dangerous. Insulting tyranny begins to jut Upon the innocent and awless throne: - 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 domestic broils. Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors, Make war upon themselves; brother to brother, Blood to blood, self 'gainst self:- preposterous And frantick courage, end thy wicked spleen; Or let me die, to look on death no more! O, Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanc My gracious lady, go, [To the Queen. And thither bear your treasure and your goods. Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. [Exeunt. |