« 上一頁繼續 »
Upon the innocent and awless throne:-
Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days!
O let me die, to look on death no more!
Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanctuary.Madam, farewell,
Q. Eliz. You have no cause.
Stay, I will go with you.
My gracious lady, go,
[To the Queen.
And thither bear your treasure and your goods.
SCENE I.-The same. A street.
The trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of WALES, GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, Cardinal BOURCHIER, and others.
Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.
i. e. encroach upon.
Glo. Welcome, dear cousin,' my thoughts' sovereign: The weary way hath made you melancholy.
Prince. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit :
No more can you distinguish of a man,
Than of his outward show; which, God he knows,
God keep you from them, and from such false friends!
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!
Prince. I thank you, good my lord; and thank [Exeunt Mayor, &c.
I thought my mother, and my brother York,
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
Buck. Fye! what an indirect and peevish course
If she deny,-lord Hastings, go with him,
Can from his mother win the duke of York,
Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land,
Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate my lord,
Too ceremonious, and traditional:
Weigh it' but with the grossness of this age,
To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place,
But sanctuary children, ne'er till now.
Card. My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me? Hast. I go, my lord.
Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. [Exeunt Cardinal and HASTINGS.
Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come,
Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?
Glo. Where it seems best unto your royal self. 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.
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 re-edified. 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 register'd; Methinks, the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retail'd' 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?
Glo. I say, without charácters, fame lives long. Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,3
I moralize two meanings in one word.
Prince. That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;
Prince. An if I live until I be a man,
Glo. Short summers lightly have a forward spring. [Aside.
1 i. e. diffused.
2 Is cadit ante senem, qui sapit ante diem. A proverbial line.-STEEVENS.
3 The hypocritical fiend.
4 i. e. 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 must I call you
Prince. Ay, brother; to our grief, as it is yours: Too late 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?
And therefore is he idle?
have power in me, as in a kinsman.
York. I pray you, uncle, then, 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. O 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 Glo. How?
i. e. too lately.
I should still esteem it but a trifling gift were it heavier.