VER. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, Opinion shall be furgeon to my hurt,
And keep me on the fide where still I am.
SOM. Well, well, come on: Who else?
LAW. Unless my study and my books be false, The argument you held was wrong in you; [ToSOMERset. In fign whereof, I pluck a white rose too.
PLAN. Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
SOM. Here, in my scabbard; meditating that, Shall die your white rofe in a bloody red.
PLAN. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our For pale they look with fear, as witneffing
The truth on our fide.
SOM. No, Plantagenet,
'Tis not for fear; but anger, that thy cheeks
Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses;
And yet thy tongue will not confefs thy error.
PLAN. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset ?
SOM. Hath not thy rofe a thorn, Plantagenet?
PLAN. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth;
Whiles thy confuming canker eats his falfehood.
SOM. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,
That fhall maintain what I have faid is true,
Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
PLAN. Now, by this maiden bloffom in my hand,
I fcorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
SUF. Turn not thy fcorns this way, Plantagenet.
PLAN. Proud Poole, I will; and fcorn both him and thee.
SUF. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
SOM. Away, away, good William De-la-Poole !
grace the yeoman, by converfing with him.
WAR. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'ft him, Somerset; His grandfather was Lionel duke of Clarence,
Third fon to the third Edward king of England;
Spring crestless yeomen from fo deep a root?
PLAN. He bears him on the place's privilege,
Or durft not, for his craven heart, fay thus.
SOM. By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
On any plot of ground in Christendom:
Was not thy father, Richard, earl of Cambridge,
For treafon executed in our late king's days?
And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
His trefpafs yet lives guilty in thy blood;
And, till thou be reftor'd, thou art a yeoman.
PLAN. My father was attached, not attainted;
Condemn'd to die for treafon, but no traitor;
And that I'll prove on better men than Somerfet,
Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
For your partaker Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in book of memory,
To fcourge you for this apprehension :
Look to it well; and fay you are well warn'd.
SOM. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee ftill:
And know us, by these colours, for thy foes;
For these my friends, in fpite of thee, fhall wear.
PLAN. And, by my foul, this pale and angry rofe,
As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
Will I for ever, and my faction, wear;
Until it wither with me to my grave,
Or flourish to the height of my degree.
SUF. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition! And fo farewell, until I meet thee next.
[Exit. SOM. Have with thee, Poole.-Farewell, ambitious
PLAN. How I am brav'd, and muft perforce endure it!
WAR. This blot, that they object against your house,
Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament,
Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Glofter:
And, if thou be not then created York,
I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Mean time, in fignal of my love to thee,
Against proud Somerset, and William Poole,
Will I upon thy party wear this rofe:
And here I prophecy,-This brawl to-day
Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden,
Shall fend, between the red rose and the white,
A thousand fouls to death and deadly night.
PLAN. Good mafter Vernon, I am bound to you,
That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
VER. In your behalf still will I wear the fame.
LAW. And fo will I.
PLAN. Thanks, gentle fir.
Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say,
This quarrel will drink blood another day.
SCENE V. The fame. A Room in the Tower.
Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair by two KEEPERS.
MOR. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.-
Even like a man new haled from the rack,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment :
And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,
Neftor-like aged, in an age of care,
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
These eyes,-like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,-
Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent:
Weak shoulders, overborne with burd'ning grief;
And pithlefs arms, like to a wither'd vine
That drops his fapless branches to the ground :-
Yet are these feet-whose strengthless stay is numb,
Unable to fupport this lump of clay,-
Swift-winged with defire to get a grave,
As witting I no other comfort have.-
But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
I KEEP. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come
We fent unto the Temple, to his chamber;
And answer was 'return'd, that he will come.
MOR. Enough; my foul fhall then be fatisfy'd.—
Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine.
Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign,
(Before whofe glory I was great in arms,)
This loathsome sequeftration have I had;
And even fince then hath Richard been obfcur'd,
Depriv'd of honour and inheritance :
the arbitrator of despairs,
Juft death, kind umpire of men's miferies,
With fweet enlargement doth difmifs me hence;
I would, his troubles likewise were expir'd,
That fo he might recover what was loft.
Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET.
I KEEP. My lord, your loving nephew now is come.
MOR. Richard Plantagenet, my friend? Is he come?
PLAN. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd,
Your nephew, late-despised Richard, comes.
MOR. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his neck,
And in his bofom spend my latter gasp:
O, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks,
That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.-
And now declare, fweet ftem from York's great stock,
Why didft thou fay-of late thou wert defpis'd?
PLAN. First, lean thine aged back against mine arm;
And, in that eafe, I'll tell thee my difeafe.
This day, in argument upon a cafe,
Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me:
Among which terms, he us'd his lavish tongue,
And did upbraid me with my father's death;
Which obloquy fet bars before my tongue,
Elfe with the like I had requited him :
Therefore, good uncle,-for my father's fake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet,
And for alliance' fake,-declare the cause
My father, earl of Cambridge, loft his head.
MOR. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me,
And hath detain'd me, all my flow'ring youth,
Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
Was curfed inftrument of his decease.
PLAN. Discover more at large what cause that was; For I am ignorant, and cannot guess.
MOR. I will; if that my fading breath permit,
And death approach not ere my tale be done,
Henry the fourth, grandfather to this king,
Depos'd his nephew Richard; Edward's fon,
The first-begotten, and the lawful heir
Of Edward king, the third of that descent:
During whofe reign, the Percies of the north,
Finding his ufurpation most unjust,
Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne:
The reafon mov'd thefe warlike lords to this,
Was-for that (young king Richard thus remov'd,
Leaving no heir begotten of his body,)
I was the next by birth and parentage;
For by my mother I derived am
From Lionel duke of Clarenee, the third fon
To king Edward the third, whereas he,
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