Prince. Is it vpon record? or else reported Successiuely from age to age, he built it? Buck. Vpon record, my gracious Lord
Prince. But say, my Lord, it were not registred, Me thinkes the truth should liue from age to age, As 'twere retayl'd to all posteritie, Euen to the generall ending day
Glo. So wise, so young, they say doe neuer liue long
Prince. What say you, Vnckle? Glo. I say, without Characters, Fame liues long. Thus, like the formall Vice, Iniquitie, I morallize two meanings in one word
Prince. That Iulius Cæsar was a famous man, With what his Valour did enrich his Wit, His Wit set downe, to make his Valour liue: Death makes no Conquest of his Conqueror, For now he liues in Fame, though not in Life. Ile tell you what, my Cousin Buckingham
Buck. What, my gracious Lord? Prince. And if I liue vntill I be a man, Ile win our ancient Right in France againe, Or dye a Souldier, as I liu'd a King
Glo. Short Summers lightly haue a forward Spring. Enter young Yorke, Hastings, and Cardinall.
Buck. Now in good time, heere comes the Duke of Yorke
Prince. Richard of Yorke, how fares our Noble Brother? Yorke. Well, my deare Lord, so must I call you now
Prince. I, Brother, to our griefe, as it is yours: Too late he dy'd, that might haue kept that Title, Which by his death hath lost much Maiestie
Glo. How fares our Cousin, Noble Lord of Yorke? Yorke. I thanke you, gentle Vnckle. O my Lord, You said, that idle Weeds are fast in growth: The Prince, my Brother, hath out-growne me farre
Glo. He hath, my Lord
Yorke. And therefore is he idle? Glo. Oh my faire Cousin, I must not say so
Yorke. Then he is more beholding to you, then I
Glo. He may command me as my Soueraigne, But you haue power in me, as in a Kinsman
Yorke. I pray you, Vnckle, giue me this Dagger
Glo. My Dagger, little Cousin? with all my heart
Prince. A Begger, Brother? Yorke. Of my kind Vnckle, that I know will giue, And being but a Toy, which is no griefe to giue
Glo. A greater gift then that, Ile giue my Cousin
Yorke. A greater gift? O, that's the Sword to it
Glo. I, gentle Cousin, were it light enough
Yorke. O then I see, you will part but with light gifts, In weightier things you'le say a Begger nay
Glo. It is too weightie for your Grace to weare
Yorke. I weigh it lightly, were it heauier
Glo. What, would you haue my Weapon, little Lord? Yorke. I would that I might thanke you, as, as, you call me
Glo. How? Yorke. Little
Prince. My Lord of Yorke will still be crosse in talke: Vnckle, your Grace knowes how to beare with him
Yorke. You meane to beare me, not to beare with me: Vnckle, my Brother mockes both you and me, Because that I am little, like an Ape, He thinkes that you should beare me on your shoulders
Buck. With what a sharpe prouided wit he reasons: To mittigate the scorne he giues his Vnckle, He prettily and aptly taunts himselfe: So cunning, and so young, is wonderfull
Glo. My Lord, wilt please you passe along? My selfe, and my good Cousin Buckingham, Will to your Mother, to entreat of her To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you
Yorke. what, will you goe vnto the Tower, my Lord? Prince. My Lord Protector will haue it so
Yorke. I shall not sleepe in quiet at the Tower