[♦] Duch. I pray thee, pretty York, who told thee this?
York. Grandam, his nurse.
[♦] Duch. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wert born.
York. If ’twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.
[35] Q. Eliz. A parlous boy: go to, you are too shrewd.
[♦] Arch. Good madam, be not angry with the child.
[♦] Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears.
Enter a Messenger.
[♦] Arch. Here comes a messenger. What news?
[♦] Mess. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.