Buc.
Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.

Ric.
Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign:
The weary way hath made you melancholy.

Pri.
No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
Have ^note made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy:
I want more uncles here to welcome me.

Ric.
Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years
Hath ^note not yet div'd into the world's deceit:
No ^note more can you distinguish of a man,
Than of his outward shew; which, God he knows,
Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart.
Those uncles, which you want, were dangerous;
Your grace attended to their sugar'd words,
But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:
God keep you from them, and from such false friends!

Pri.
God keep me from false friends! but they were none.

Ric.
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!

Pri.
I thank you, good my lord—and thank you all.— [they kiss his Hand, and retire.
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.

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

Pri.
Welcome, my lord: What, will our mother come?

Has.
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 ^note come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.

Buc.
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 ^note with him ^note,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.

Car.
My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory
Can from his mother with the duke of York,
Anon expect him here: But if she be obdurate
To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid ^note
We should infringe the holy priviledge
Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land
Would I be guilty of so great a ^note sin.

Buc.
You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,
Too ceremonious and traditional:
Weigh it but14Q0877 with the greenness ^{note note} of his ^note age,
You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
The benefit thereof is always granted—
To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place:
This prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deserv'd it;
Therefore ^note, in mine opinion, cannot have it:
Then, taking him ^note from thence, that is not there,
You break no priviledge nor charter there.
Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;
But sanctuary children, ne'er till now.

Car.
My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for once.—
Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me?

Has.
I go, my lord.

Pri.
My lords, ^note make all the speedy haste you may. [Exeunt Has. and Car.
Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come,
Where shall we sojourn 'till our coronation?

Ric.
Where it seems best ^note 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 ^note be thought most fit
For your best health and recreation.

Pri.
I do not like the tower, of any place:—
Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord?

Buc.
He did, my gracious lord, begin that place;
Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edify'd.

Pri.
Is it upon record? or else reported
Successively from age to age, he built it?

Buc.
It is upon record, my gracious lord.

Pri.
But say, my lord, it were not register'd;
Methinks, the truth should live from age to age,
As 'twere retail'd ^note to all posterity,
Even to the generall all-ending day.

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

Pri.
What say you, uncle?

Ric.
I say, without characters, fame lives long.
&clquo;Thus, like ^note14Q0878 the formal vice, iniquity,&crquo;
&clquo;I moralize,—two meanings in one word.&crquo;

Pri.
That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;
With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit set down to make his valour live:
Death makes no conquest of this ^note conqueror;
For yet he lives in fame, though not in life.—
I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham.

Buc.
What, my good lord ^note?

Pri.
An if I live until I be a man,
I'll win our antient right in France again,
Or die a soldier, as I liv'd a king.

&clquo;Ric.
&clquo;Short summers lightly ^note have a forward spring.&crquo; Enter York, Hastings, and the Cardinal.

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

Pri.
Richard of York! how fares our loving brother ^note?

Yor.
Well, my dread lord ^note; so must I call you now.

Pri.
Ay, brother; to our grief, as it is yours:
Too late he dy'd, that might have kept that title ^note,
Which by his death hath lost much majesty.

Ric.
How fares our cousin, noble lord of York?

Yor.
I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord,
You said, that idle weeds are fast in growth:
The prince my brother hath out-grown ^note me far.

Ric.
He hath, my lord.

Yor.
And therefore is he idle?

Ric.
O, my fair cousin, I must not say so.

Yor.
Then he is more beholding to you, than I.

Ric.
He may command me, as my sovereign;
But you have power in me, as in a kinsman.

Yor.
I pray you, uncle, then, give me this dagger.

Ric.
My dagger, little cousin? with all my heart.

Pri.
A beggar, brother?

Yor.
Of my kind uncle, that, I know, will give;
And, being a toy, it is ^note no grief to ^note give.

Ric.
A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin.

Yor.
A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it?

Ric.
Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough.

Yor.
O then, I see, you'll part but with light gifts;
In weightier things you'll say a beggar, nay.

Ric.
It is too weighty for your grace to wear.

Yor.
I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.

Ric.
What, would you have my weapon, little lord?

Yor.
I would, that I might thank you ^note as you call me.

Ric.
How?

Yor.
Little.

Pri.
My lord of York will still be cross in talk;—

Uncle, your grace knows how to bear with him.

Yor.
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.

&clquo;Buc.
&clquo;With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons!&crquo; [to Hastings.
&clquo;To mitigate the scorn he gives ^note his uncle,&crquo;
&clquo;He prettily and aptly taunts himself:&crquo;
&clquo;So cunning, and so young, is wonderful.&crquo;

Ric.
My lord, will't please your highness 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.

Yor.
What, will you go unto the tower, my lord?

Pri.
My lord protector here will have it so.

Yor.
I shall not sleep in quiet at the tower.

Ric.
Why, sir, what should you fear?

Yor.
Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost;
My grandam told me, he was murther'd there.

Pri.
I fear no uncles dead.

Ric.
Nor none that live, I hope.

Pri.
An if they live, I hope, I need not fear.
But come, my lord; and ^note, with a heavy heart,
Thinking on them, go I unto the tower. [Exeunt Pri. Yor. Has. Car. and Attendants.

Buc.
Think you, my lord, this little prating York
Was not incensed by his subtle mother,
To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?

Ric.
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.

Buc.
Well, let them rest.—
Come hither, gentle Catesby; Thou art sworn,
As deeply to effect what we intend,
As closely to conceal what we impart:
Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way;—
What think'st thou? is it not an easy matter,
To make William lord Hastings of our mind,
For the instalment of this noble duke
In the seat royal of this famous isle?

Cat.
He for his father's sake so loves the prince,
That he will not be won to ought against him.

Buc.
What think'st thou then of Stanley? will not he ^note?

Cat.
He will do all in all as Hastings doth.

Buc.
Well then, no more but this: Go, gentle Catesby,
And, as it were far ^note off, sound thou lord ^note Hastings,
How he doth stand ^note affected to our purpose;
And summon him to-morrow to the tower,
To sit about the coronation.
If thou dost find him tractable to us,
Encourage him, and tell him ^note all our reasons:
If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling,
Be thou so too; and so break off the talk ^note,
And give us notice of his inclination:
For we to-morrow hold divided councils,
Wherein thyself shalt ^note highly be employ'd.

Ric.
Commend me to lord William: tell him, Catesby,
His antient knot of dang'rous adversaries
To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret castle;
And bid my friend ^note, for joy of this good news,
Give mistress ^note Shore one gentle kiss the more.

Buc.
Good Catesby, go ^note, effect this business soundly.

Cat.
My good lords both, with all the heed I can.

Ric.
Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep?

Cat.
You shall, my lord.

Ric.
At Crosby-place, ^note there shall you find us both. [Exit Catesby.

Buc.
My ^note lord, what shall we do, if we perceive
Lord Hastings ^note will not yield to our complots?

Ric.
Chop off his head;—something we will ^note determine:
And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me
Th' earldom of Hereford ^note, and all the moveables
Whereof the king my brother was possest ^note.

Buc.
I'll claim that promise at your grace's ^note hand ^note.

Ric.
And look to have it yielded with all kindness. ^note
Come, let us sup betimes; that afterwards
We may digest our complots in some form. [Exeunt.

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