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And stands upon the honour of his birth,
Som. Let him that is no coward, and no flatterer,
War. I love no colours; and without all colour
Suf. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset,
Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more, 'Till you conclude, that he, upon whose fide The fewest roses are crop'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, Giving my verdict on the white rose side.
Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
3 From off this briar pluck a white rose with me. &c.] This is given as the original of the two badges of the house of York and Lancaster, whether truly or not, is no great matter. But the pro. verbial expression of saying a thing under the Rose, I am persuaded, came from thence. When the nation had ranged itself into two great factions, under the white and red Rose, and were perpetually plotting and counterplotting against one another, then when a matter of faction was communicated by either party to his friend in the same quarrel, it was natural for him to add, that he said it under the Rose; meaning that, as it concern'd the faction, it was religiously to be kept secret. Vol. IV, нь
Som. Well, well, come on; who else?
Lawyer. Unlefs my ftudy and my books be false, The argument, you held, was wrong in
[To Somerset. In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
Som. Here in my scabbard, meditating that
Som. No, Plantagenet,
shame to counterfeit our Roses; And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.
Plan. Hath not thy Rofe a canker, Somerset ??
Plan. Ay, sharp and piercing to maintain his truth; Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falfhood.
Som. Well, 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, 4 I scorn thee and thy Fashion, peevish boy.
Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. Plan. Proud Pool, I will; and scorn both him and
thee. Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
4 I fcorn thee and thy Fashion,--) So the old copies read, and rightly. Mr. Theobald altered it to Faction, not considering that by fashion is meant the badge of the red-rose, which Somerset said "he and his friends should be distinguish'd by. But Mr. Theobald asks, If Faction was not the true reading, why should Suffolk immediately reply,
Turn not thy fcorns this way, Plantagenet ? Why? because Plantagenet had called Somerset, with whom Suffolk sided, peevijl boy.
Som. Away, away, good William de la Pool!
the Yeoman by conversing with him.
Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,
Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted;
Som. Ah, thou shalt find us ready for thee ftill,
Plan. And by my foul, this pale and angry rose,
5 Spring crestless Yeomen. -] i. e. those who have no right
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 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, Callid 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 master Vernon, I am bound to you; That you on my behalf would pluck a flow'r.
Ver. In your behalf ftill will I wear the same.
Plan. Thanks, gentle Sir.
S C Ε Ν Ε VI.
Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come ;
Mor. Enough; my soul then shall be satisfy'd.
Enter Richard Plantagenet.
Plan. I, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, Your nephew, late-despised Richard, comes.
Mor. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his neck, And in his bosom spend my latest gasp. Oh, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks;
8 as drawing to their exigent.] Exigent, for conclufion, period.