London. The Temple garden
Enter the EARLS OF SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another LAWYER 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.
PLANTAGENET Then say at once if I maintain'd 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 judgment;
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
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 apparell'd,
So clear, so shining, and so evident,
That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
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 brier 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 are cropp'd from the tree
Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
SOMERSET Good Master Vernon, it is well objected;
If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.
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 [To Somerset] Unless my study and my books be
false,
The argument you held was wrong in you;
In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
PLANTAGENET Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
SOMERSET Here in my scabbard, meditating that
Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
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.
PLANTAGENET Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
SOMERSET Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
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.
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.
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?
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 restor'd thou art a yeoman.
PLANTAGENET 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 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 warn'd.
SOMERSET Ay, 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.
PLANTAGENET And, by my soul, 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.
SUFFOLK Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition!
And so farewell until I meet thee next.
Exit SOMERSET Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious
Richard.
Exit PLANTAGENET How I am brav'd, and must perforce endure
it!
WARWICK 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;
And 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 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.
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.
PLANTAGENET Thanks, gentle sir.
Come, let us four to dinner. I dare say
This quarrel will drink blood another day.
Exeunt