Sayfadaki görseller
PDF
ePub

Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
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!

80

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 yeoman 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,

90

For treason executed in our late king's days?

76. "Fashion"- Faction.-H. N. H.

83. “His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence"; this is erroneous; Duke Lionel was his maternal great-great-grandfather.— I. G.

86. It does not appear that the “Temple” had any privilege of sanctuary at this time, being then, as now, the residence of law students. The author might imagine it to have derived some such privilege from the knights templars, or knights hospitallers, both religious orders, its former inhabitants. It is true, blows may have been prohibited by the regulations of the society: the author perhaps did not much consider the matter, but represents it as suited his purpose.-H. N. H.

91. "executed"; Pope, "headed"; Steevens, "execute" (probably to be read as a dissyllable).—I. G.

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. 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 Som-
erset,
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:

100

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 colors for thy foes,

For these my friends in spite of thee shall

wear.

110

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 choked with thy ambi-
tion!

And so farewell until I meet thee next. [Exit. Som. Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious Richard.

[Exit. Plan. How I am braved and must perforce endure it!

War. This blot that they object against your house

114. “Have with thee," I go with thee.-C. H. H.

Shall be wiped out in the next parliament Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester;

120

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 will I wear the same. Law. And so will I.

Plan. Thanks, gentle sir.

130

Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say This quarrel will drink blood another day. [Exeunt. 117. "wiped"; Ff. 2, 3, 4, "wip't"; F. 1, "whipt."-I. G. 127. "a thousand"; Collier MS., "Ten thousand.”—I. G. 132. “gentle sir"; so Ff. 2, 3, 4; F. 1, “gentle." Anon. conj., "gentlemen."-I. G.

SCENE V

The Tower of London.

Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Jailers.

Mor. 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 gray locks, the pursuivants of death,
Nestor-like aged in an age of care,

Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.

These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,

Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent;

Weak shoulders, overborne with burthening grief,

10

1. "enter Mortimer"; Edmund Mortimer served under Henry V in 1422, and died in his castle in Ireland in 1424.-I. G.

This scene is at variance with history. Edmund Mortimer, who was trusted and employed by Henry V throughout his reign, died of the plague in his own castle at Trim, in Ireland, in 1424; being then only thirty-two years old. His uncle, Sir John Mortimer, was indeed a prisoner in the Tower, and was executed not long before the earl of March's death, being charged with an attempt to make his escape in order to stir up an insurrection in Wales. The Poet was led into error by the popular historians of his time. Hall relates that, in the third year of Henry VI, "Edmond Mortimer, the last earl of Marche of that name, (whiche long time had bene restrayned from his liberty, and finally waxed lame,) deceased without issue, whose inheritance descended to the Lord Richard Plantagenet." And in a previous passage he has observed, "The erle of Marche was ever kepte in the courte under such a keeper that he could neither do nor attempt any thyng agaynste the kyng wythout his knowledge, and died without issue."-H. N. H.

6. "an age of care"; Collier MS., "a cage of care."-I. G. 9. "exigent," extreme moment, end.-C. H. H.

And pithless arms, like to a wither'd 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? First Jail. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will

come:

We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber; And answer was return'd that he will come. 20 Mor. 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 ob-
scured,

Death

Deprived of honor and inheritance.
But now the arbitrator of despairs,
Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me
hence:

abstract

would his troubles likewise were expired, That so he might recover what was lost.

Enter Richard Plantagenet.

30

First Jail. My lord, your loving nephew now is

come.

Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?

« ÖncekiDevam »