1. SCENE I. London. A street.
[The trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES, GLOSTER,
BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, CARDINAL BOUCHIER, and others.]
Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.
Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign:
The weary way hath made you melancholy.
No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy:
I want more uncles here to welcome me.
Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years
Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit:
Nor 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
But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:
God keep you from them and from such false friends!
God keep me from false friends! but they were none.
My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet you.
[Enter the LORD MAYOR and his train.]
God bless your grace with health and happy days!
I thank you, good my lord;--and thank you all.
[Exeunt Mayor, &c.]
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!
And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord.
Welcome, my lord: what, will our mother come?
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 come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.