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I did not entertain thee as thou arts
Tal. Be not dismayd, fair Lady, nor misconftrue.
have done, hath not offended me:
Coun. With all my Heart, and think me honoured,
Suf. Within the Temple Hall we were too loud,
Plan. Then say at once, if I maintaind the Truth:
Suf. Faith I have been a Truant in the Law,
Som. Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then between us,
War. Between two Hawks, which flies the higher pitch,
Plan. Tut; tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
Som. And on my side, it is so well apparell'a,
Plan. Since you are Tongue-ty'd, and fo loth to speak, In dumb significants proclaim your Thoughts:
Let him that is a true-born Gentleman,
Som. Let him that is no Coward, nor no Flatterer,
War. I love no Colours; and without all colour
Suf. I pluck this red Rofe with young Somerset,
Ver. Stay, Lords and Gentlemen, and pluck no more, 'Till you conclude, that he upon whose fide The fewest Rofes are crop'd from the Tree, Shall yield the other in the right Opinion.
Som. Good Mafter Vernon, it is well objected ; If I have fewest, I fubscribe in filence,
Plan. And I.
Ver. Then for the truth, and plainness of the Cafe, 1 pluck this pale and maiden Blossom here, Giving my Verdict on the white Rofe fide.
som. Prick not your Finger as you pluck it off, Left bleeding, you do paint the white Rose Red, And fall on my fide fo against your will.
Ver. If I, my Lord, for my Opinion bleed,
Som. Well, well, come on, who else?
Lawyer. Unless my Study and my Books be falle, The Argument you held, was wrong in you; [ToSomerset. In fign whereot, I pluck a white Rofe too.
Plan. Now Somerset, where is your Argument:
Som. Here in my Scabbard, meditating that, Shall dye your white Rose in a bloody Řed.
Plan. Mean time your Checks do counterfeit our Roses, For pale they look with fear, as witnessing The truth on our side.
Som. No Plantagenet. 'Tis not for fear, but anger, that thy Cheeks
Blufh for pure shame, to counterfeit our Roses,
Plán. Hath not thy Rose a Canker, Somerset?
Plan, Ay, sharp and piercing to maintain his truth,
, I'll find Friends to wear my bleeding Roses, That fhall maintain what I have said is true, Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen,
Plan. Now by this Maiden Blossom in my Hand,
Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
Som. Away, away, good William de la Pool,
War. Now by God's will thou wrong'st him, Somerset: His Grandfather was Lyonel 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 Priviledge,
Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
Plan, My Father was attached, not attainted,
Partaker Pool, and you your self,
Som. Ah, thou shalt find us ready for thee ftill;
For these, my Friends in spight of thee fall wear.
Plan. And by my Soul, this pale and angry Rose,
Suf. Go forward, and be choak'd with thy Ambition: And so farewel, until I meet thee next.
[Exit? Som. Have with thee, Pool : Farewel, ambitious Rio chard.
[Exit. Plan. How I am bray'd, and must perforce endure it!
War. This blat, that they object against your House, Shall be wip'd out in the next Parliament, Calld for the Truce of Winchester and Gloucester : And if thou be not then created York, I will not live to be accounted Warwick. Mean time, in signal of my love to thee, Against proud Somerset, and William Pool, Will I upon thy party wear this Rose. And here I prophesie; this Brawl to day, Grown to this Faction in the Temple Garden, Shall send between the red Rose and the white, A thousand Souls to death and deadly Night.
Plan. Good Mafter Vernon, I am bound to you,
Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same.'
Plan. Thanks, gentle Sir.
Enter Mortimer, brought in a Chair, and Jailors.
Weak Shoulders, over-born with burthening Grief,
Keeper. Richard Plantagene, my Lord, will come,
Mór. Enough; my Soul then shall be satisfied.
Enter Richard Plantagenet.
Plan. J, noble Uncle, thus ignobly us'd, Your Nephew, late despised Richard, comes.
Mor. Direct mine Arous, I may embrace bis Neck, And in his Bosom spend my later gasp. Oh tell me when my Lips do touch his Cheeks, That I may kindly give one fainting Kiss: And now declare, sweet Stem from York's
Stock, Why didst thou say of late thou wert despis'd?
Plan. First, lean thine aged Back against mine Arm, And in that ease I'll tell thee