Which giveth many wounds, when one will kill. Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good; Only, give order for my funeral; And so farewell and fair be all thy hopes! And prosperous be thy life, in peace, and war! [Dies. Plan. And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul! In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, [Exeunt Keepers, bearing out MORTIMER. Or make my ill, the advantage of my good. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. The same. The Parliament House. Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, GLOSTER, WARWICK, SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK; the Bishop of Winchester, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and Others. GLOSTER offers to put up a Bill: WINCHESTER Snatches it, and tears it. Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines, With written pamphlets studiously devis'd, As I with sudden and extemporal speech Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonour'd me. Think not, although in writing I preferr'd And for thy treachery, What's more manifest? Glo. As good? Win. Ay, lordly sir; For what are you, I pray, But one imperious in another's throne? Glo. Am I not the protector, saucy priest? Win. And am I not a prelate of the church? Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, And useth it to patronage his theft. Win. Unreverent Gloster! Glo. Thou art reverent Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. Roam thither then. War. War. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne. Som. Methinks, my lord should be religious, And know the office that belongs to such. War. Methinks his lordship should be humbler; It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. [near. Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so War. State boly, or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? Plan. Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue; Lest it be said, Speak, sirrah, when you should! Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords? Else would I have a fling at Winchester. [Aside. K. Hen. Uncles of Gloster, and of Winchester, The special watchmen of our English weal; I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, To join your hearts in love and amity. O, what a scandal is it to our crown, That two such noble peers as ye, should jar! Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell, Civil dissension is a viperous worm, That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.[A noise within; Down with the tawny coats! What tumult's this? War. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun through malice of the bishop's men. [A noise again; Stones! Stones! Enter the MAYOR OF LONDON, attended. May. O, my good lords, and virtuous HenPity the city of London, pity us! [ry,The bishop and the duke of Gloster's men, Forbidden late to carry any weapon, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones; That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the peace. Pray, uncle Gloster, mitigate this strife. 1 Serv. Nay, if we be Forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth. 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. 1 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a inan Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, And ere that we will suffer such a prince, We, and our wives, and children, all will fight, [Skirmish again. K. Hen. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold Or who should study to prefer a peace, Except you mean, with obstinate repulse, Or, I would see his heart out, ere the priest War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke VOL. V. E K. Hen. Fye, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach, That malice was a great and grievous sin: War. Sweet king!-the bishop hath a kindly gird. For shame, my lord of Winchester! relent; Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give. Win. So help me God, as I intend it not! [Aside. K. Hen. O, loving uncle, kind duke of Gloster, How joyful am I made by this contract!Away, my masters! trouble us no more; But join in friendship, as your lords have done. 1 Serv. Content; I'll to the surgeon's. 2 Serv. And so will I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physick the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, &c. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sove reign; Which, in the right of Richard Plantagenet, We do exhibit to your majesty. Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick;-for, And if your grace mark every circumstance, At Eltham-place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force: Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, That Richard be restored to his blood. War. Let Richard be restored to his blood; So shall his father's wrongs be recompens'd. Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. K. Hen. If Richard will be true, not that alone, But all the whole inheritance I give, |