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 dived into the world's deceit :

No more can you distinguish of a man,

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 sugared words,
But looked not on the poison of their hearts:

God keep you from them, and from such false friends!
Prince. God keep me from false friends! But they

were none.

Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet

you.

Enter the Lord Mayor, and his Train.

May. God bless your grace with health and happy

days!

you all.―

Prince. I thank you, good my lord;-and thank [Exeunt Mayor, &c. I thought my mother, and my brother York,

Would long ere this have met us on the way.
Fie, what a slug is Hastings! that he comes not
To tell us whether they will come, or no.

Enter HASTINGS.

Buck. And in good time, here comes the sweating lord.

Prince. Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come?

Hast. On what occasion, God he knows, not I,
The queen your mother, and your brother York,
Have taken sanctuary. The tender prince
Would fain have come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.

Buck. Fie! what an indirect and peevish course

Is this of hers!-Lord cardinal, will your grace
Persuade the queen to send the duke of York
Unto his princely brother presently?

If she deny,-lord Hastings, go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.

Card. My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory
Can from his mother win the duke of York,
Anon expect him here. But if she be obdurate
To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
We should infringe the holy privilege

Of blessed sanctuary! Not for all this land,
Would I be guilty of so deep a sin.

Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,

Too ceremonious, and traditional;1

Weigh it but with the grossness of this age,
You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
The benefit thereof is always granted

To those whose dealings have deserved the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place.
This prince hath neither claimed it, nor deserved it;
And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it:
Then, taking him from thence, that is not there,
You break no privilege nor charter there.
Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;

But sanctuary children, ne'er till now.

Card. My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for

once.

Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me?
Hast. I go, my lord.

Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you [Exeunt Cardinal and HAST.

may.

Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come,

Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?

Glo. Where it seems best unto your royal self.

If I may counsel you, some day, or two,

Your highness shall repose you at the Tower;
Then where you please, and shall be thought most fit
For
your best health and recreation.

1 Ceremonious for superstitious; traditional for adherent to old customs. 2 Grossness here means plainness, simplicity.

VOL. V.

8

Prince. I do not like the Tower, of any place. Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord?

Glo. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place; Which, since, succeeding ages have reëdified. Prince. Is it upon record? or else reported Successively from age to age he built it? Buck. Upon record, my gracious lord. Prince. But say, my lord, it were not registered; Methinks the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retailed' to all posterity,

Even to the general all-ending day.

Glo. So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long.

Prince. What say you, uncle?

[Aside.

Glo. I say, without charácters, fame lives long. Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,

I moralize two meanings in one word.

}

[Aside.

Prince. That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;

With what his valor did enrich his wit,
His wit set down to make his valor live.
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.-
I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham-
Buck. What, my gracious lord?

Prince. An if I live until I be a man,
I'll win our ancient right in France again,
Or die a soldier, as I lived a king.

3

Glo. Short summers lightly have a forward spring.

[Aside.

1 i. e. recounted. Minsheu, in his Dictionary, 1617, besides the verb retail, in the mercantile sense, has the verb to retaile or retell.

2 For a notice of the vice in old plays, see note on Twelfth Night, Act iv. Sc. 2. "He appears (says Mr. Gifford) to have been a perfect counterpart of the harlequin of the modern stage, and had a twofold office, to instigate the hero of the piece to wickedness, and, at the same time, to protect him from the devil, whom he was permitted to buffet and baffle with his wooden sword, till the process of the story required that both the protector and the protected should be carried off by the fiend, or the latter driven roaring from the stage by some miraculous interposition in favor of the repentant offender."

3 Commonly.

Enter YORK, HASTINGS, and the Cardinal.

Buck. Now, in good time, here comes the duke of York.

Prince. Richard of York! how fares our loving brother?

York. Well, my dread lord; so I must call you now. Prince. Ay, brother; to our grief, as it is yours. Too late1 he died, that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much majesty.

Glo. How fares our cousin, noble lord of York?
York. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord,
You said that idle weeds are fast in growth.
The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
Glo. He hath, my lord.
York.
And therefore is he idle?
Glo. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so.
York. Then is he more beholden to you, than I.
Glo. He may command me, as my sovereign;
But you have power in me, as in a kinsman.

York. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger.
Glo. My dagger, little cousin? with all my heart.
Prince. A beggar, brother?

York. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give ;
And, being but a toy, which is no grief to give.
Glo. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin.
York. A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it?
Glo. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough.
York. Ŏ then, I see, you'll part but with light gifts.
In weightier things you'll say a beggar, nay.
Glo. It is too weighty for your grace to wear.
York. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.2

Glo. What, would you have my weapon, little lord? York. I would, that I might thank you as you call

me.

Glo. How?

1 Lately.

2 This taunting answer of the prince has been misinterpreted: he means to say, "I hold it cheap, or care but little for it, even were it heavier than it is."

York. Little.

Prince. My lord of York will still be cross in talk ;— Uncle, your grace knows how to bear with him.

York. You mean to bear me, not to bear with me.Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me;

Because that I am little, like an ape,

He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders.1 Buck. With what a sharp, provided wit he reasons! To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle,

He prettily and aptly taunts himself.

So cunning, and so young, is wonderful.

Glo. My gracious lord, will't please you pass along? Myself, and my good cousin Buckingham, Will to your mother; to entreat of her

To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you.

York. What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord?
Prince. My lord protector needs will have it so.
York. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.
Glo. Why, sir, what should you fear?

York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost;
My grandam told me, he was murdered there.
Prince. I fear no uncles dead.

Glo. Nor none that live, I hope.

Prince. An if they live, I hope, I need not fear. But come, my lord, and, with a heavy heart, Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower.

[Exeunt Prince, YORK, HASTINGS, Cardinal, and Attendants.

Buck. Think you, my lord, this little prating York Was not incensed by his subtle mother,

To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?

Glo. No doubt, no doubt. O, 'tis a parlous boy;

Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable;

He's all the mother's, from the top to toe.
Buck. Well, let them rest.—

Come hither, gentle Catesby; thou art sworn
As deeply to effect what we intend,

1 York alludes to the protuberance on Gloster's back, which was commodious for carrying burdens.