Page 224 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Shall send, between the red rose and the white,
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.

PLANT AGENET

Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,
That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.

VERNON

In your behalf still will I wear the same. [130]

LAWY ER

And so will I.

PLANT AGENET

Thanks, gentle sir.
Come, let us four to dinner. I dare say
This quarrel will drink blood another day.

Exeunt.

Scene V IT

Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Gaolers.

MORT IMER

Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
Even like a man new halèd from the rack,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment;
And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death, [5]
Nestor-like agèd 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, [10]
And pitchless arms, like to a withered 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-wingèd with desire to get a grave - [15]
As witting I no other comfort have.