_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?   ·abd085· _Plan._ He bears him on the place’s privilege,   [abd086] 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,   ·abd090· For treason executed in our late king’s days?   [abd091] 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.   ·abd095· _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.   [abd099] For your partaker Pole and you yourself,   ·abd100· I’ll note you in my book of memory, To scourge you for this apprehension:   [abd102] 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,   ·abd105· 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   [abd110] Or flourish to the height of my degree. _Suf._ Go forward and be choked with thy ambition! 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!   ·abd115· _War._ This blot that they object against your house Shall be wiped out in the next parliament   [abd117] 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.   ·abd120· 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,   ·abd125· Shall send between the red rose and the white A thousand souls to death and deadly night.   [abd127] _Plan._ Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,   [abd128] That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. _Ver._ In your behalf still will I wear the same.   ·abd130· _Law._ And so will I. _Plan._ Thanks, gentle sir.   [abd132] Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say This quarrel will drink blood another day. [_Exeunt._ SCENE V. _The Tower of London_. _Enter_ MORTIMER, _brought in a chair, and_ Gaolers.