Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward’s son,

The first begotten and the lawful heir

Of Edward king, the third of that descent;

During whose reign the Percies of the north,

Finding his usurpation most unjust,

Endeavoured my advancement to the throne.

The reason moved these warlike lords to this

Was for that—young King Richard thus removed,

Leaving no heir begotten of his body—

I was the next by birth and parentage,

For by my mother I derived am

From Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son

To King Edward the Third—whereas the King

From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,

Being but fourth of that heroic line.

But mark: as in this haughty great attempt

They laboured to plant the rightful heir,

I lost my liberty, and they their lives.

Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,

Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign,

Thy father, Earl of Cambridge then, derived

From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,

Marrying my sister that thy mother was,

Again, in pity of my hard distress,

Levied an army, weening to redeem

And have installed me in the diadem;

But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl,

And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,

In whom the title rested, were suppressed.

RICHARD PLANTAGENET

Of which, my lord, your honour is the last.

MORTIMER

True, and thou seest that I no issue have,

And that my fainting words do warrant death.

Thou art my heir. The rest I wish thee gather—

But yet be wary in thy studious care.

RICHARD PLANTAGENET

Thy grave admonishments prevail with me.

But yet methinks my father’s execution

Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.

MORTIMER

With silence, nephew, be thou politic.

Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster,

And like a mountain, not to be removed.

But now thy uncle is removing hence,

As princes do their courts, when they are cloyed

With long continuance in a settled place.

RICHARD PLANTAGENET

O uncle, would some part of my young years

Might but redeem the passage of your age.

MORTIMER

Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer doth

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

RICHARD PLANTAGENET

And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul.

In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage,

And like a hermit overpassed 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

Will see his burial better than his life.

Exeunt Keepers with Mortimer’s body

Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,

Choked with ambition of the meaner sort.

And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,

Which Somerset hath offered to my house,

I doubt not but with honour to redress.

And therefore haste I to the Parliament,

Either to be restored to my blood,

Or make mine ill th’advantage of my good. Exit

3.1 Flourish. Enter young King Henry, the Dukes of Exeter and Gloucester, the Bishop of Winchester; the Duke of Somerset and the Earl of Suffolk ⌈with⌉ red roses⌉; the Earl of Warwick and Richard Plantagenet ⌈with white roses⌉. Gloucester offers to put up a bill; Winchester snatches it, tears it

WINCHESTER

Com‘st thou with deep premeditated lines?

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,

As I with sudden and extemporal speech

Purpose to answer what thou canst object.

GLOUCESTER

Presumptuous priest, this place commands my

patience,

Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonoured me.

Think not, although in writing I preferred

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,

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.

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

From envious malice of thy swelling heart.

WINCHESTER

Gloucester, I do defy thee.—Lords, vouchsafe

To give me hearing what I shall reply.

If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse,