Act II, Scene v
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[Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Jailers.]
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| | MORTIMER.: | |
| | Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, | |
| | Let dying Mortimer here rest himself. | |
| | Even like a man new haled from the rack, | |
| | So fare my limbs with long imprisonment; | |
| | And these gray locks, the pursuivants of death, | |
| | Nestor-like aged in an age of care, | |
| | Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. | |
| | These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, | |
| | Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent; | |
| | Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief, | |
| | And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine | |
| | That droops his sapless branches to the ground: | |
| | Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb, | |
| | Unable to support this lump of clay, | |
| | Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, | |
| | As witting I no other comfort have. | |
| | But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come? | |
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| | FIRST JAILER.: | |
| | Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come: | |
| | We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber; | |
| | And answer was return'd that he will come. | |
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| | MORTIMER.: | |
| | Enough: my soul shall then be satisfied. | |
| | Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine. | |
| | Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign, | |
| | Before whose glory I was great in arms, | |
| | This loathsome sequestration have I had; | |
| | And even since then hath Richard been obscured, | |
| | Deprived of honour and inheritance. | |
| | But now the arbitrator of despairs, | |
| | Just Death, kind umpire of men's miseries, | |
| | With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence: | |
| | I would his troubles likewise were expired, | |
| | That so he might recover what was lost. | |
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[Enter Richard Plantagenet.]
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| | FIRST JAILER.: | |
| | My lord, your loving nephew now is come. | |
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| | MORTIMER.: | |
| | Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | Aye, noble uncle, thus ignobly used, | |
| | Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes. | |
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| | MORTIMER.: | |
| | Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck, | |
| | And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: | |
| | O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks, | |
| | That I may kindly give one fainting kiss. | |
| | And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock, | |
| | Why didst thou say of late thou wert despised? | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | First, lean thine aged back against mine arm; | |
| | And, in that case, I'll tell thee my disease. | |
| | This day, in argument upon a case, | |
| | Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me; | |
| | Among which terms he used his lavish tongue | |
| | And did upbraid me with my father's death: | |
| | Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, | |
| | Else with the like I had requited him. | |
| | Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake, | |
| | In honor of a true Plantagenet | |
| | And for alliance sake, declare the cause | |
| | My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head. | |
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| | MORTIMER.: | |
| | That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me | |
| | And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth | |
| | Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, | |
| | Was cursed instrument of his decease. | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | Discover more at large what cause that was, | |
| | For I am ignorant and cannot guess. | |
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| | MORTIMER.: | |
| | I will, if that my fading breath permit, | |
| | And death approach not ere my tale be done. | |
| | Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king, | |
| | 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, | |
| | Endeavour'd 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, third son | |
| | To King Edward the Third; whereas he | |
| | From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree, | |
| | Being but fourth of that heroic line. | |
| | But mark: as in this haughty great attempt | |
| | They labored 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 install'd 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 suppress'd. | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | Of which, my lord, your honor is the last. | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | Thy grave admonishments prevail with me: | |
| | But yet, methinks, my father's execution | |
| | Was nothing less than bloody tyranny. | |
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| | 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 cloy'd | |
| | With long continuance in a settled place. | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | O, uncle, would some part of my young years | |
| | Might but redeem the passage of your age! | |
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| | 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! | |
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| | PLANTAGENET.: | |
| | And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul! | |
| | 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 | |
| | Will see his burial better than his life. | |
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[Exeunt Jailers, bearing out the body of Mortimer.]
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| | Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, | |
| | Choked with ambition of the meaner sort: | |
| | And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries, | |
| | Which Somerset hath offer'd 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 my ill the advantage of my good. | |
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