The truth appears so naked on my side, Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd, That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. speak, In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts: Let him, that is a trueborn gentleman, And stands upon the honour of his birth, If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, From off this briar pluck a white rose with me 16. Som. Let him that is no coward, nor no flat terer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me. 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 Somerset ; 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 The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree, Shall yield the other in the right opinion. 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; Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, Som. Well, well, come on: Who else? [To Somerset. In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too. Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument? Shall die your white rose in a bloody red. Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our roses; For pale they look with fear, as witnessing The truth on our side. Som. Plan. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset ? That shall maintain what I have said is true, 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 thy throat. His grandfather was Lionel duke of Clarence, 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, Plan. My father was attached, not attainted; For your partaker Poole, and you yourself, I'll note you in my book of memory, To scourge you for this apprehension : Look to it well; and say you are well warn'd. Or flourish to the height of my degree. Suf. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambi tion ! And so farewell, until I meet thee next. [Exit. Som. Have with thee, Poole.-Farewell, ambitious Richard. [Exit. Plan. How I am brav'd, and must 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 Gloster: And, if thou be not then created York, I will not live to be accounted Warwick. Plan. Good master Vernon, I am bound to you, Plan. Thanks, gentle sir. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say, This quarrel will drink blood another day. [Exeunt. SCENE V. The Same. A Room in the Tower. Enter MORTIMER 17, 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 : 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 pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine That droops his sapless branches to the ground:- |