TAL. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconftrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake

The outward compofition of his body.
What

you have done, hath not offended me:

No other fatisfaction do I crave,

But only (with your patience,) that we may
Taste of your wine, and fee what cates you have;
For foldiers' ftomachs always ferve them well.

COUNT. With all my heart; and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in

my houfe.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. London. The Temple Garden. Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another LAWYER.

PLAN. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this Dare no man answer in a case of truth? [filence? SUF. Within the Temple hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient.

PLAN. Then fay at once, If I maintain'd the truth; Or, elfe, was wrangling Somerset in the error? SUF. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law; And never yet could frame my will to it; And, therefore, frame the law unto my will.

SOM. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us. WAR. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch, Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth, Between two blades, which bears the better temper, Between two horses, which doth bear him beft, Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye, I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judgement : But in these nice fharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.

VOL. IV.

C

PLAN. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance: The truth appears fo naked on my fide,

That any purblind eye may find it out.

SOм. And on my fide it is fo well apparell'd,

So clear, fo fhining, and fo evident,

That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
PLAN. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and fo loath to speak,
In dumb fignificants proclaim your thoughts:

Let him, that is a trueborn gentleman,

And ftands upon the honour of his birth,

If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,

From off this briar pluck a white rose with me.
SOM. Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer,

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 infinuating flattery,

I pluck this white rofe, with Plantagenet.

SUF. I pluck this red rofe, with young Somerfet; And fay withal, I think he held the right.

VER. Stay, lords, and gentlemen; and pluck no more, Till you conclude that he, upon whofe fide

The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree,

Shall yield the other in the right opinion.

SOM. Good mafter Vernon, it is well objected;

If I have feweft, I fubfcribe in filence.

PLAN. And I.

VER. Then, for the truth and plainness of the case, I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,

Giving my verdict on the white rofe fide.

SOм. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off; Left, bleeding, you do paint the white rofe red, And fall on my fide fo against your will.

VER. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion fhall be furgeon to my hurt,
And keep me on the fide where ftill I am.

SOM. Well, well, come on: Who elfe?

LAW. Unless my ftudy and my books be falfe, The argument you held was wrong in you; [ToSOMERSET.

In fign whereof, I pluck a white rofe too.

PLAN. Now, Somerfet, where is your argument?

SOM. Here, in my fcabbard; meditating that, Shall die your white rofe in a bloody red.

[rofes;

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 fhame, 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, fharp 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 falfe 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.

SOм. Away, away, good William De-la-Poole !
We 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
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 trespass 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 Somerset,
Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
For your partaker Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
'To fcourge you for this apprehenfion :
Look to it well; and fay you are well warn'd.

;

words

SOM. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee ftill:
And know us, by these colours, for thy foes
For these my friends, in spite of thee, shall wear.
PLAN. And, by my foul, this pale and angry rose,

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

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 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 Somerfet, 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 rofe and the white,
A thousand fouls to death and deadly night.
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 fame.
LAW. And fo will I.

PLAN. Thanks, gentle fir.

Come, let us four to dinner: I dare fay,

This quarrel will drink blood another day.

[Exeunt.

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 reft himself.-
Even like a man new haled from the rack,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment :
And these grey locks, the purfuivants 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