DUCHESS. Welcome, my son. Who are the violets now That strew the green lap of the new-come spring? 

 AUMERLE. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not. God knows I had as lief be none as one. 

 YORK. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, Lest you be cropped before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? Do these jousts and triumphs hold? 

 AUMERLE. For aught I know, my lord, they do. 

 YORK. You will be there, I know. 

 AUMERLE. If God prevent not, I purpose so. 

 YORK. What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom? Yea, look’st thou pale? Let me see the writing. 

 AUMERLE. My lord, ’tis nothing. 

 YORK. No matter, then, who see it. I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing. 

 AUMERLE. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me. It is a matter of small consequence, Which for some reasons I would not have seen. 

 YORK. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. I fear, I fear— 

 DUCHESS. What should you fear? ’Tis nothing but some bond that he is entered into For gay apparel ’gainst the triumph day. 

 YORK. Bound to himself? What doth he with a bond That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. Boy, let me see the writing. 

 AUMERLE. I do beseech you, pardon me. I may not show it. 

 YORK. I will be satisfied. Let me see it, I say. 

 [Snatches it and reads it.]

 Treason, foul treason! Villain! traitor! slave!

 DUCHESS. What is the matter, my lord? 

 YORK. Ho! who is within there? 

 Enter a Servant.

 Prev. P 55/66 next