But yet be wary in thy studious care. Plan, Thy grave admonishments prevail with me: But yet, methinks, my father's execution As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd Plan. O, uncle, 'would some part of my young years Might but redeem the passage of your age! Mor. Thou dost then wrong me; as the slaught'rer doth, Which giveth many wounds, when one will kill. And so farewel; and fair be all thy hopes! [Dies. Plan. And peace, no war, befal thy parting soul! In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, [Exeunt Keepers, bearing out Mortimer. Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, Chok'd with ambition of the meaner sort:- Or make my ill the advantage of my good. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. THE SAME. THE PARLIAMENT-HOUSE. Flourish. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Glo'ster, Warwick, Somerset, and Suffolk; the Bishop of Winchester, Richard Plantagenet, and Others. Glo'ster offers to put up a bill; Winchester snatches it, and tears it. Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines, Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonour'd me. And for thy treachery, What's more manifest? To give me hearing what I shall reply. Glo. As good? Thou bastard of my grandfather! 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. Unreverent Glo'ster! Glo. Thou art reverent Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. War. Roam thither then. Som. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. 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. Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. War. State holy, 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 Glo'ster, 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 dissention 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! E |