Act II, Scene iv:
London. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the young DUKE OF YORK, QUEENELIZABETH, and the DUCHESS OF YORK.]

ARCHBISHOP:

Last night, I hear, they at Northampton lay;

And at Stony-Stratford they do rest to-night:

To-morrow or next day they will be here.

DUCHESS:

I long with all my heart to see the prince:

I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

But I hear no; they say my son of York

Has almost overta'en him in his growth.

YORK:

Ay, mother; but I would not have it so.

DUCHESS:

Why, my good 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 Gloster

"Small herbs have grace: great weeds do grow apace."

And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,

Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

DUCHESS:

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,

So long a growing and so leisurely,

That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious.

ARCHBISHOP:

And so no doubt he is, my gracious madam.

DUCHESS:

I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt.

YORK:

Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd,

I could have given my uncle's grace a flout

To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine.

DUCHESS:

How, my young York? I pr'ythee let me hear it.

YORK:

Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast

That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old:

'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.

Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.

DUCHESS:

I pr'ythee, pretty York, who told thee this?

YORK:

Grandam, his nurse.

DUCHESS:

His nurse! why she was dead ere thou wast born.

YORK:

If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

A parlous boy!—go to, you are too shrewd.

ARCHBISHOP:

Good madam, be not angry with the child.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

Pitchers have ears.

ARCHBISHOP:

Here comes a messenger.

[Enter a MESSENGER.]

What news?

MESSENGER:

Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

How doth the prince?

MESSENGER:

Well, madam, and in health.

DUCHESS:

What is thy news?

MESSENGER:

Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret,

With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.

DUCHESS:

Who hath committed them?

MESSENGER:

The mighty dukes, Gloster and Buckingham.

ARCHBISHOP:

For what offence?

MESSENGER:

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 lady.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

Ah me, I see the ruin of my house!

The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind;

Insulting tyranny begins to jet

Upon the innocent and aweless throne:—

Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre!

I see, as in a map, the end of all.

DUCHESS:

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:

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;

Or let me die, to look on death no more!

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary.—

Madam, farewell.

DUCHESS:

Stay, I will go with you.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

You have no cause.

ARCHBISHOP:

[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!

Go, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.

[Exeunt.]