COUNTESS
With all my heart; and think me honoured
To feast so great a warrior in my house.
Exeunt
2.4
A rose brier. Enter Richard Plantagenet, the Earl of Warwick, the Duke of Somerset, William de la Pole (the Earl of Suffolk), Vernon, and a Lawyer
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?
Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
SUFFOLK
Within the Temple hall we were too loud.
The garden here is more convenient.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Then say at once if I maintained the truth;
Or else was wrangling Somerset in th’error?
SUFFOLK
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.
SOMERSET
Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us.
WARWICK
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 best,
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,
I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgement;
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance.
The truth appears so naked on my side
That any purblind eye may find it out.
SOMERSET
And on my side it is so well apparelled,
So clear, so shining, and so evident,
That it will glimmer through a blind man’s eye.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts.
Let him that is a true-born 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.
SOMERSET
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.
WARWICK
I love no colours, and without all colour
Of base insinuating flattery
I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
SUFFOLK
I pluck this red rose with young Somerset,
And say withal I think he held the right.
VERNON
Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more
Till you conclude that he upon whose side
The fewest roses from the tree are cropped
Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
SOMERSET
Good Master Vernon, it is well objected.
If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET And I.
VERNON
Then for the truth and plainness of the case
I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,
Giving my verdict on the white rose’ side.
SOMERSET
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.
VERNON
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.
SOMERSET Well, well, come on! Who else?
LAWYER
Unless my study and my books be false,
The argument you held was wrong in law;
In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Now Somerset, where is your argument?
SOMERSET
Here in my scabbard, meditating that
Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses,
For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
The truth on our side.
SOMERSET 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 confess thy error.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
SOMERSET
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth,
Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
SOMERSET
Well, I’ll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,
That shall maintain what I have said is true,
Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
SUFFOLK
Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and thee.
SUFFOLK
I’ll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
SOMERSET
Away, away, good William de la Pole.
We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.
WARWICK
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?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
He bears him on the place’s privilege,
Or durst not for his craven heart say thus.
SOMERSET
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 treason 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 restored thou art a yeoman.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
My father was attached, not attainted;
Condemned to die for treason, but no traitor—
And that I’ll prove on better men than Somerset,
Were growing time once ripened to my will.
For your partaker Pole, 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 warned.
SOMERSET
Ah, 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.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose,
As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
Will I forever, and my faction, wear
Until it wither with me to my grave,
Or flourish to the height of my degree.
SUFFOLK
Go forward, and be choked with thy ambition.
And so farewell until I meet thee next.
Exit
SOMERSET
Have with thee, Pole.—Farewell, ambitious Richard.
Exit
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
How I am braved, and must perforce endure it!
WARWICK
This blot that they object against your house
Shall be wiped out in the next parliament,
Called for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester.
An if thou be not then created York,
I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Meantime, in signal of my love to thee.
Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
Will I upon thy party wear this rose.
And here I prophesy: this brawl today,
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.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,
That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
VERNON
In your behalf still will I wear the same.
LAWYER And so will I.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Thanks, gentles.
Come, let us four to dinner. I dare say
This quarrel will drink blood another day.
Exeunt. The rose brier is removed
2.5
Enter Edmund Mortimer, brought in a chair
⌈
by
⌉
his Keepers
MORTIMER
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,
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer,
Nestor-like aged in an age of care.
These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent;
Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief,
And pithless arms, like to a withered vine
That droops his sapless branches to the ground.
Yet are these feet—whose strengthless stay is numb,
Unable to support this lump of clay—
Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
As witting I no other comfort have.
But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
KEEPER
Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come.
We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber,
And answer was returned that he will come.
MORTIMER
Enough. My soul shall then be satisfied.
Poor gentleman, his wrong doth equal mine.
Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign—
Before whose glory I was great in arms—
This loathsome sequestration have I had;
And even since then hath Richard been obscured,
Deprived of honour and inheritance.
But now the arbitrator of despairs,
Just Death, kind umpire of men’s miseries,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence.
I would his troubles likewise were expired,
That so he might recover what was lost.
Enter Richard Plantagenet
KEEPER
My lord, your loving nephew now is come.
MORTIMER
Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used:
Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes.
MORTIMER (
to Keepers
)
Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck
And in his bosom 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, sweet stem from York’s great stock,
Why didst thou say of late thou wert despised?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
First lean thine aged back against mine arm,
And in that ease I’ll tell thee my dis-ease.
This day in argument upon a case
Some words there grew ’twixt Somerset and me;
Among which terms he used his lavish tongue
And did upbraid me with my father’s death;
Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
Else with the like I had requited him.
Therefore, good uncle, for my father’s sake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet,
And for alliance’ sake, declare the cause
My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.
MORTIMER
That cause, fair nephew, that imprisoned me,
And hath detained me all my flow’ring youth
Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
Was cursed instrument of his decease.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET
Discover more at large what cause that was,
For I am ignorant and cannot guess.
MORTIMER
I will, if that my fading breath permit
And death approach not ere my tale be done.
Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this King,
Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward’s son,
The first begotten and the lawful heir
Of Edward king, the third of that descent;
During whose reign the Percies of the north,
Finding his usurpation most unjust,
Endeavoured my advancement to the throne.
The reason moved these warlike lords to this
Was for that—young King Richard thus removed,
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 Clarence, the third son
To King Edward the Third—whereas the King
From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
Being but fourth of that heroic line.
But mark: as in this haughty great attempt
They laboured to plant the rightful heir,
I lost my liberty, and they their lives.
Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,
Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign,
Thy father, Earl of Cambridge then, derived
From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
Marrying my sister that thy mother was,
Again, in pity of my hard distress,
Levied an army, weening to redeem
And have installed me in the diadem;
But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl,
And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
In whom the title rested, were suppressed.