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The Same. A Room in the Palace. | |
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Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the young DUKE OF YORK, QUEEN ELIZABETH, and the DUCHESS OF YORK. | |
| Arch. Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton; | |
| At Stony-Stratford they do rest to-night: | |
| To-morrow, or next day, they will be here. | 5 |
| Duch. I long with all my heart to see the prince. | |
| I hope he is much grown since last I saw him. | |
| Q. Eliz. But I hear, no; they say my son of York | |
| Hath almost overta’en him in his growth. | |
| York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. | 10 |
| Duch. Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow. | |
| York. Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper, | |
| My uncle Rivers talk’d how I did grow | |
| More than my brother: ‘Ay,’ quoth my uncle Gloucester, | |
| ‘Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:’ | 15 |
| 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, | 20 |
| So long a-growing, and so leisurely, | |
| That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious. | |
| Arch. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam. | |
| Duch. I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt. | |
| York. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember’d, | 25 |
| I could have given my uncle’s grace a flout, | |
| To touch his growth nearer than he touch’d mine. | |
| Duch. How, my young York? I prithee, let me hear it. | |
| York. Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast, | |
| That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old: | 30 |
| ’Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. | |
| Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. | |
| Duch. I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this? | |
| York. Grandam, his nurse. | |
| Duch. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wast born. | 35 |
| York. If ’twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. | |
| Q. Eliz. A parlous boy: go to, you are too shrewd. | |
| Arch. Good madam, be not angry with the child. | |
| Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears. | |
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Enter a Messenger. | 40 |
| Arch. Here comes a messenger. What news? | |
| Mess. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report. | |
| Q. Eliz. How doth the prince? | |
| Mess. Well, madam, and in health. | |
| Duch. What is thy news? | 45 |
| Mess. Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret, | |
| With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. | |
| Duch. Who hath committed them? | |
| Mess. The mighty dukes, | |
| Gloucester and Buckingham. | 50 |
| Arch. For what offence? | |
| Mess. The sum of all I can I have disclos’d: | |
| Why or for what the nobles were committed | |
| Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord. | |
| Q. Eliz. Ah me! I see the ruin of my house! | 55 |
| The tiger now hath seiz’d the gentle hind; | |
| Insulting tyranny begins to jet | |
| Upon the innocent and aweless throne: | |
| Welcome, destruction, death, and massacre! | |
| I see, as in a map, the end of all. | 60 |
| 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 toss’d, | |
| For me to joy and weep their gain and loss: | 65 |
| And being seated, and domestic broils | |
| Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors, | |
| Make war upon themselves; brother to brother, | |
| Blood to blood, self against self: O! preposterous | |
| And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen; | 70 |
| Or let me die, to look on death no more. | |
| Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary. | |
| Madam, farewell. | |
| Duch. Stay, I will go with you. | |
| Q. Eliz. You have no cause. | 75 |
| Arch. [To the QUEEN.] My gracious lady, go; | |
| And thither bear your treasure and your goods. | |
| For my part, I’ll resign unto your Grace | |
| The seal I keep: and so betide to me | |
| As well I tender you and all of yours! | 80 |
| Come; I’ll conduct you to the sanctuary. [Exeunt. | |
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