Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd,. So clear, so shining, and so evident, That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. Plan. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and so loath to speak, In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts: Som. Let him that is no coward, flatterer, nor ne But dare maintain the party of the truth, War. I love no colours; and, without all colour Of base-insinuating flattery, I pluck this white rose, with Plantagenet. Suf. I pluck this red rose, with young So merset; And say withal, I think he held the right. Ver. Stay, Lords, and Gentlemen; and pluck no more, Till you conclude that he, upon whose side Som. Good master Vernon, it is well objected; If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence. Plan. And I. Ver. Then, for the truth and plainness of the case, I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here, Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off; Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red, And fall on my side so against your will. Ver. If I, my Lord, for my opinion bleed, Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, And keep me on the side 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; [TO SOMERSET In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too. Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our roses; For pale they look with fear, as witnessing -Som. No, Plantagenet, his truth; Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood. Som. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleed ing roses, That shall maintain what I have said is true, Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen. Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him and thee. Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into hy throat. 1 Som. Away, away, good William De la Poole! We grace the yeoman, by conversing with him. War. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st, him, Somerset; His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence, Third son to the third Edward King of England; Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root? Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege, Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus. Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my words On any plot of ground in Christendom: Plan. My father was attached, not attainted; Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor; And that I'll prove on better men than So merset, Were growing time once ripen'd to my will. Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still: And know us by these colours, for thy foes; For these my friends, in spite of thee, shall wear. Plan. And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, Will Will I for ever, and my faction, wear; Suf. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition! And so farewell, until I meet thee next. [Exit. Som. Have with thee, Poole. - Farewell, ambitious Richard. [Exit. endure it! Plan. How I am brav'd, and must perforce War. This blot, that they object against your house, Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament, And, if thou be not then created York, Plan. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same. Law. And so will I. Plan. Thanks, gentle Sir. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say, VOL. X. 11 [Exeunt. SCENE V. The same. A Room in the Tower. Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair by two Keepers. Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying tage, Let dying Mortimer heve rest himself. Even like a man new baled from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment: And these grey locks, the poursuivants of death, Nestor-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: numb Unable to support this lump of clay, - come: We sent unto the Temple, to his chamber; Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine. |