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Lord M. Vouchsafe, most gracious sovereign, to

The general homage of your royal city :
We farther beg your royal leave, to speak,
In deep condolement of your father's loss;
And, as far as our true sorrow would permit,
To’gratulate your accession to the throne.
P. Ed. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you

all, Alas! my youth is yet unfit to govern, Therefore, the sword of justice is in abler hands; But be assur'd of this, so much already I perceive I love you, that though I know not yet To do you offices of good ; yet this I kuow, I'll sooner die, than basely do you wrong. Glost. So wise, so young, they say, do ne'er live long.

[Aside. P. Ed. My lords, I thought my mother, and my brother, York, Would, long ere this, have met us on the

way: Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?

Glost. Where it shall seem best to your royal self. May I advise you, sir, some day or two, Your highness shall repose you at the Tower; Then, where you please, and shall be thought most


For your best health and recreation.
P. Ed. Why at the Tower ? But, be it as you

Buck. My lord, your brother's Grace of York.

Enter Duke and DuchESS OF YORK. P. Ed. Richard of York! how fares our dearest brother?



my lord,

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D. of York. Oh, my dear lord! So I must call you

P. Ed. Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours ! Too soon he dy'd, who might have better worn That title, which, in me, will lose its majesty.

Glost. How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York?

D. of York. Thank you kindly, dear uncle—Oh,
You said that idle weeds were fast in growth;
The king, my brother, has outgrown me, far.

Glost. He has, my lord.
D. of York. And, therefore, is he idle?
Glost. Oh, pretty cousin, I must not say so.
D. of York. Nay, uncle, I don't believe the saying's

For, if it were, you'd be an idle weed.

Glost. How so, cousin ?
D. of York. Because, I have heard folks say, you

grew so fast,
Your teeth would gnaw a crust at two hours old :
Now, 'twas two years ere I could get a tooth.
Glost. Indeed! I find, the brat is taught this les-

(Aside. Who told thee this, my pretty, merry cousin ?

D. of York. Why, your nurse, uncle.
Glost. My nurse, child ! she was dead 'fore thou

wert born. D. of York. If 'twas not she, I can't tell who told


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Glost. So subtle too ! 'tis pity thou art short liv'd !

[ Aside. P. Ed. My brother, uncle, will be cross in talk. Glost, Oh, fear not, my lord; we shall never quar

rel. P. Ed. I hope your grace knows how to bear with

him. D. of 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.

P. Ed. Fie, brother, I have no such meaning!

Glost. My lord, wilt please you, pass along? Myself and my good cousin of Buckingham Will to your mother, to entreat of her To meet, and bid you welcome, at the Tower. D. of York. What! will you go to the Tower, my

dear lord ? P. Ed. My Lord Protector will have it so. D. of York. I shan't sleep in quiet, at the Tower.

Glost. I'll warrant you; King Henry lay there, And he sleeps in quiet.

[Aside. P. Ed. What should you fear, brother?

D. of York. My uncle, Clarence' ghost, my lord; My grandmother told me he was killd there.

P. Ed. I fear no uncles dead.
Glost. Nor any, sir, that live, I hope?

P. Ed. I hope so too ; but come, my lords,
To the Tower, since it must be so.

[Exeunt all but Gloster and BUCKINGHAM.
Buck. Think you, my lord, this little, prating, York
Was not instructed by his subtle mother,
To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?
Glost. No doubt--no doubt; oh, 'tis a shrewd

young master :
Stubborn, bold, quick, forward, and capable !
He is all the mother's, from the top to the toe :
But let them rest.-Now what says Catesby?
Buck. My lord, 'tis much as I suspected, and

He's here himself to inform you.

Enter CATESBY. Glost. So, Catesby, hast thou been tampering? What news ? Catesby. My lord, according to the instruction

giyen me,


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With words, at distance dropp'd, I sounded Hastings,
Piercing how far he did affect your purpose;
To which, indeed, I found him cold, unwilling;
The sum is this--he seem'd awhile to understand me


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At length, from plainer speaking, urg'd to answer,
He said, in heat, rather than wrong the head
To whom the crown was due, he'd lose his own.
Glost. Indeed ! 'his own then answer for that say-

He shall be taken care of; meanwhile, Catesby,
Be thou near me.-Cousin of Buckingham,
Let's lose no time; the mayor and citizens
Are now at busy meeting, in Guild Hall.
Thither I'd have you haste immediately,
And at your meetest 'vantage of the time,
Improve those hints I gave you late to speak of:
But, above all, infer the bastardy
Of Edward's children.

Buck. Doubt not, my lord, I'll play the orator,
As if myself might wear the golden fee,
For which I plead.
Glost. If


thrive well, bring them to see me here, Where you shall find me seriously employ'd, With the most learned fathers of the church.

Buck. I fly, my lord, to serve you.

Glost. To serve thyself, my cousin ; For look, when I am king, claim thou of me The earldom of Hereford, and all those moveables Whereof the king, my brother, stood possess’d. Buck. I shall remember, that your grace was boun

tiful. Glost. Cousin, I have said it. Buck. I am gone, my lord.

[Erit. Glost. So, I've secur'd my cousin here. These

moveables Will never let his brains rest, till I'm king.

Catesby, go you with speed to Doctor Shaw,
And thence, to Friar Beuker--bid them both
Attend me here, within an hour at farthest :

[Exit CatesbY.
Meanwhile, my private orders shall be given,
To lock out all admittance to the princes.
Now, by St. Paul, the work goes bravely on !
How many frightful stops would conscience make
In some soft heads, to undertake like me!
Come, this conscience is a convenient scarecrow;
It guards the fruit, which priests and wise men taste,
Who never set it up to fright themselves;
They know 'tis rags, and gather in the face on't ;
While half-starv'd, shallow daws, through fear, are

honest. Why were laws made, but, that we're rogues by na

ture ? Conscience! 'tis our coin-we live by parting with it; And he thrives best, that has the most to spare. The protesting lover buys hope with it, And the deluded virgin, short lived pleasure; Old greybeards cram their avarice with it; Your lank-jaw'd, hungry judge, will dine upon't, And hang the guiltless, rather than eat his mutton

cold : The crown'd head quits it for despotic sway; The stubborn people, for únaw'd rebellion. There's not a slave, but has his share of villain: Why, then, shall after ages think my deeds Inhuman, since my worst are but ambition ? Ev'n all mankind, to some lov'd ills incline: Great men chuse greater sins-ambition's mine. [Exit.

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