William Shakespeare's First Part of King Henry the Sixth in the complete original text.
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First Part of King Henry the Sixth

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Act II. Scene IV.

Scene IV.—London. The Temple Garden.

Enter the EARLS of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK,
and WARWICK; RICHARD
PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and a Lawyer.

Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means
this silence?
Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
Suf. Within the Temple hall we were too loud;
The garden here is more convenient.
Plan. Then say at once if I maintain'd the
truth,
Or else 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 tem-
per;
Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye;
I have perhaps, some shallow spirit of judg-
ment;
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
Plan. Tut, tut! here is a mannerly forbear-
ance:
The truth appears so naked on my side,
That any purblind eye may find it out.
Som. 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.
Plan. 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.
Som. Let him that is no coward nor no flat-
terer,
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 insinuating flattery
I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
Suf. I pluck this red rose with young Somer-
set;
And say withal I think he held the right.
Ver. 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.
Som. Good Master Vernon, it is well ob-
jected:
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,
Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red,
And fall on my side so, against your will.
Ver. 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.
Som. Well, well, come on: who else?
Law. [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.
Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argu-
ment?
Som. Here, in my scabbard; meditating that
Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
Plan. Meantime, your cheeks do counterfeit
our roses;
For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
The truth on our side.
Som. 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.
Plan. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Som. Hath not thy rose a thorn, Planta-
genet?
Plan. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain
his truth;
Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
Som. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleed-
ing roses,
That shall maintain what I have said is true,
Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my
hand,
I scorn thee and thy faction, peevish boy.
Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Planta-
genet.
Plan. Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him
and thee.
Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
Som. Away, away! good William de la Pole:
We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.
War. 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?
Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,
Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus.
Som. 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's! 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.
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 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.
Som. 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.
Plan. 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.
Suf. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy
ambition:
And so farewell until I meet thee next. [Exit.
Som. Have with thee, Pole, Farewell, am-
bitious 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 Glouces-
ter;
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.
Plan. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to
you,
That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
Ver. In your behalf still would I wear the
same.
Law. And so will I.
Plan. Thanks, gentle sir.
Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say
This quarrel will drink blood another day.
[Exeunt.
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