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The Same. A Street. | |
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The Trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES, GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, CARDINAL BOURCHIER, and Others. | |
| Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. | |
| Glo. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts’ sovereign; | |
| The weary way hath made you melancholy. | 5 |
| 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 div’d into the world’s deceit: | 10 |
| 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 sugar’d words, | 15 |
| But look’d 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. | |
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Enter the Lord Mayor and his Train. | 20 |
| May. God bless your Grace with health and happy days! | |
| Prince. I thank you, good my lord; and thank you all. | |
| 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 | 25 |
| To tell us whether they will come or no. | |
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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, | 30 |
| 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 | 35 |
| 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. | 40 |
| 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 | 45 |
| Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land | |
| Would I be guilty of so great a sin. | |
| Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord, | |
| Too ceremonious and traditional: | |
| Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, | 50 |
| 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; | 55 |
| 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. | 60 |
| Card. My lord, you shall o’er-rule 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 may. [Exeunt CARDINAL BOURCHIER and HASTINGS. | |
| Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come, | 65 |
| 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 | 70 |
| For your best health and recreation. | |
| Prince. I do not like the Tower, of any place: | |
| Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord? | |
| Buck. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place, | |
| Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. | 75 |
| 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, | 80 |
| As ’twere retail’d to all posterity, | |
| Even to the general all-ending day. | |
| Glo. [Aside.] So wise so young, they say, do never live long. | |
| Prince. What say you, uncle? | |
| Glo. I say, without characters, fame lives long. | 85 |
| [Aside.] Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, | |
| I moralize two meanings in one word. | |
| Prince. That Julius Cæsar was a famous man; | |
| With what his valour did enrich his wit, | |
| His wit set down to make his valour live: | 90 |
| 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, | 95 |
| I’ll win our ancient right in France again, | |
| Or die a soldier, as I liv’d a king. | |
| Glo. [Aside.] Short summers lightly have a forward spring. | |
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Enter YORK, HASTINGS, and CARDINAL BOURCHIER. | |
| Buck. Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of York. | 100 |
| Prince. Richard of York! how fares our loving brother? | |
| York. Well, my dread lord; so must I call you now. | |
| 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. | 105 |
| 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. | 110 |
| York. And therefore is he idle? | |
| Glo. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. | |
| York. Then he is more beholding to you than I. | |
| Glo. He may command me as my sovereign; | |
| But you have power in me as in a kinsman. | 115 |
| 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. | 120 |
| 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. | 125 |
| Glo. It is too weighty for your Grace to wear. | |
| York. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. | |
| Glo. What! would you have my weapon, little lord? | |
| York. I would, that I might thank you, as you call me. | |
| Glo. How? | 130 |
| 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. | 135 |
| Because that I am little, like an ape, | |
| He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. | |
| Buck. With what a sharp provided wit he reasons! | |
| To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle, | |
| He prettily and aptly taunts himself: | 140 |
| So cunning and so young is wonderful. | |
| Glo. My 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. | 145 |
| 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, what would you fear? | |
| York. Marry, my uncle Clarence’ angry ghost: | 150 |
| My grandam told me he was murder’d 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, | 155 |
| Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower. [Sennet. Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, and CATESBY. | |
| 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; | 160 |
| Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable: | |
| He’s all the mother’s, from the top to toe. | |
| Buck. Well, let them rest. Come hither, Catesby; thou art sworn | |
| As deeply to effect what we intend | |
| As closely to conceal what we impart. | 165 |
| 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? | 170 |
| Cate. He for his father’s sake so loves the prince | |
| That he will not be won to aught against him. | |
| Buck. What think’st thou then of Stanley? what will he? | |
| Cate. He will do all in all as Hastings doth. | |
| Buck. Well then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby, | 175 |
| And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings, | |
| How he doth stand 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, | 180 |
| Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons: | |
| If he be leaden, icy-cold, unwilling, | |
| Be thou so too, and so break off the talk, | |
| And give us notice of his inclination; | |
| For we to-morrow hold divided councils, | 185 |
| Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ’d. | |
| Glo. Commend me to Lord William: tell him, Catesby, | |
| His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries | |
| To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; | |
| And bid my lord, for joy of this good news, | 190 |
| Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more. | |
| Buck. Good Catesby, go, effect this business soundly. | |
| Cate. My good lords both, with all the heed I can. | |
| Glo. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep? | |
| Cate. You shall, my lord. | 195 |
| Glo. At Crosby-place, there shall you find us both. [Exit CATESBY. | |
| Buck. Now, my lord, what shall we do if we perceive | |
| Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots? | |
| Glo. Chop off his head; something we will determine: | |
| And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me | 200 |
| The earldom of Hereford, and all the moveables | |
| Whereof the king my brother stood possess’d. | |
| Buck. I’ll claim that promise at your Grace’s hand. | |
| Glo. And look to have it yielded with all kindness. | |
| Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards | 205 |
| We may digest our complots in some form. [Exeunt. | |
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