The fewest rofes are cropt from the tree,
Shall yield the other in the right opinion.

Som. Good Matter Vernon, it is well objected: If I have feweft, I fubfcribe in filence.

Plan. And I.

Fer. Then for the truth and plainness of the cafe, I pluck this pale and maiden bloffom here, Giving my verdict on the white rofe fide*.

Som. Well, well, come on; who elfe?

Lawyer. Unless my study and my books be falfe, The argument you held was wrong in you; [To Som. In fign whereof I pluck a white rofe too.

Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument? Som. Here in my fcabbard, meditating that Shall dye your white rofe to a bloody red. † 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 Pool, I will; and scorn both him and thee.

Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.

white rose fide.

Sem. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off; Left, bleeding, you do paint the white rofe red, And fall on my fide fo ageinft 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, &c.

十一

-a bloody red.

Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our rofes:

For pale they look with fear, as witneffing

The truth on our fide.

Sem. No, Plantagenet.

'Tis not for fear, bur anger, that thy cheeks
Bush for pure fhame to counterfeit our rofes;
And yet thy tongue will not confefs thy error.
Plan. Hath not thy role a canker, Somerset ?
Som, Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
Plan. A, fharp and piercing to maintain his truth;
Whilft thy consuming canker eats his falfehood.

Sam. 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 feen.

Plan. Now, by this mailen, &c,

my

words..

Som. Away, away, good William de la Pool!
We grace
the yeoman by converfing with him.
War. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'ft him, So-
His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence, [merset.
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
On any plot of ground in Chriftendom.
Was not thy father, Richard, Earl of Cambridge,
For treafon headed in our late King's days?
And by his treason ftand'ft not thou attainted,
Corrupted and exempt from ancient gentry?
His trefpafs 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 treason, 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 Pool, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
To fcourge you for this apprehenfion †.
Look to it well, and say you are well warn'd.

Som. Ah, thou fhalt find us ready for thee ftill,
And know us by these colours for thy foes:
For thefe my friends, in spight of thee, fhall wear.
Plan. And, by my foul, this pale and angry rofe,
As cognisance 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 farewel until I meet thee next.

[Exit. Som. Have with thee, Pool! farewel, 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 Gloucester;

* i. e. thofe who have no right to arms,

ti. e. opinion.

"VOL. IV..

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 Pool,
Will I upon thy party wear this rofe.
And here I prophefy, 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. *

SCENE II. A prifon.

Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Failors, Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, Let dying Mortimer here reft himfelf.

Ev'n like a man new haled from the rack,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment:
And thefe gray locks, the purfuivants of death,
Neftor-like aged in an age of care,

Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer,

Thefe eyes, like lamps whofe wafting oil is spent,
Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent t.
Weak fhoulders overborn with burthening grief,
And pithlefs arms, like to a wither'd vine
That droops his faplefs branches to the ground:
Yet are thefe feet, whofe ftrengthlefs ftay is numb,
(Unable to fupport this lump of clay),
Swift-winged with defire to get a grave;
As witting, I no other comfort have.

But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come!

Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my Lord, will come; We fent unto the Temple, to his chamber;

And anfwer was return'd that he will come.
Mor. Enough; my foul then fhall be fatisfy'd.

-death and deadly night.

Plan, Good Mafter Vernon, I am bound to you,

Tha you on my behalf would pluck a flow`r.

Ver. In your behalf fill will I wear the fame.
Lawyer. And fo wil I.

Plan. Thanks, gentle Sir.

Come let us tour to dinner; I dare fay,

This quarrel will drink blood another day.

SCENE, &c.

Exigent, for conclufion, period,

Poor

Poor Gentleman, his wrong doth equal mine.
Since Henry Monmouth firit began to reign,
(Before whofe glory I was great in arms),
This lothfome fequeftration have I had;
And, even fince then, hath Richard been obscur'd,
Depriv'd of honour and inheritance.

But now the arbitrator of despairs,

Juft Death, kind umpire of mens' miferies,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence.
I would his troubles likewife were expir'd,
That so he might recover what was lost!

Enter Richard Plantagenet.

Keep. My Lord, your loving nephew now is come? Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? Plan. I, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, Your nephew, late defpifed Richard, comes.

Mor. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck, And in his bofom spend riy latest gasp.

Oh, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.

And now declare, fweet ftem from York's great stock,
Why didft thou fay of late thou wert despis'd?
Plan First lean thine aged back against mine arm,
And in that cafe I'll tell thee my displeasure.
This day, in argument upon a cafe,

Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me;
Amongst which terms he loos'd his lavish tongue,
And did upbraid me with my father's death;
Which obloquy fet bars before my tongue,
Elfe with the like had requited him.
Therefore, good uncle, for my father's fake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet,

And for alliance fake, declare the cause

My father Earl of Cambridge loft his head.

Mor. This caufe, fair nephew, that imprifon'd me, And hath detain'd me all my flow'ring youth

Within a lothiome dungeon there to pine,

Was curfed intrument of his deceafe.

Plan. Difcover more at large what cause that was; For I am ignorant, and cannot guefs.

Mor. I will, if that my fading breath permit.

And death approach not ere my tale be done.
Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this King,
Depos'd his coufin Richard, Edward's fon,
The firft-begotten, and the lawful heir
Of Edward King, the Third of that descent.
During whofe reign the Percies of the north,
Finding his ufurpation moft unjust,

Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne.
The reafon mov'd these warlike Lords to this,
Was, for that young King Richard thus remov'd,
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 fon
To the Third Edward; whereas Bolingbroke
From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
Being but the 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
After his father Bolingbroke did reign,
Thy father, Earl of Cambridge, (then deriv'd
From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
Marrying my fifter, that thy mother was),
Again in pity of my hard diftrefs

Levied an army, weening to redeem
And re-inftal me in the diadem:

But as the reft, fo fell that Noble Earl,
And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
In whom the title refted, were fupprefs'd.

Plan. Of which, my Lord, your Honour is the last.
Mor. True; and thou seest that I no iffue have,
And that my fainting words do warrant death:
Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather:
But yet be wary in thy ftudious care.

Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me: But yet methinks my father's execution

Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.

Mor. With filence, nephew, be thou politic:
Strong fixed is the houfe of Lancaster,
And, like a mountain, not to be remov'd.

But