“Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign: The weary way hath made you melancholy. PRINCE No, uncle; but our crosses on the way Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy: I want more uncles here to welcome me. GLOSTER 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! PRINCE God keep me from false friends!”