_Plan._ And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul!   ·abe115· In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage And like a hermit overpass’d thy days. Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast; And what I do imagine let that rest. Keepers, convey him hence, and I myself   ·abe120· Will see his burial better than his life.   [abe121] [_Exeunt Gaolers, bearing out the body of Mortimer._ Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,   [abe122] Choked with ambition of the meaner sort:   [abe123] And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries, Which Somerset hath offer’d to my house,   ·abe125· I doubt not but with honour to redress;   [abe126] And therefore haste I to the parliament, Either to be restored to my blood, Or make my ill the advantage of my good. [_Exit._   [abe129] ACT III. SCENE I. _London. The Parliament-house_. _Flourish. Enter_ KING, EXETER, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, SOMERSET, _and_ SUFFOLK; _the_ BISHOP of WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, _and others._ GLOUCESTER _offers to put up a bill;_ WINCHESTER _snatches it, tears it_. _Win._ Comest thou with deep premeditated lines,   [aca001] With written pamphlets studiously devised, Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse, Or aught intend’st to lay unto my charge, Do it without invention, suddenly;   ·aca005· As I with sudden and extemporal speech Purpose to answer what thou canst object. _Glou._ Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience, Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour’d me. Think not, although in writing I preferr’d   ·aca010· The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes, That therefore I have forged, or am not able Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen: No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness, Thy lewd, pestiferous and dissentious pranks,   ·aca015· As very infants prattle of thy pride. Thou art a most pernicious usurer, Froward by nature, enemy to peace; Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems A man of thy profession and degree;   ·aca020· And for thy treachery, what’s more manifest? In that thou laid’st a trap to take my life, As well at London-bridge as at the Tower. Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted, The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt   ·aca025· From envious malice of thy swelling heart.