BASSET.
Crossing the sea from England into France,
This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rose I wear,
Saying the sanguine colour of the leaves
Did represent my master’s blushing cheeks
When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
About a certain question in the law
Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him;
With other vile and ignominious terms.
In confutation of which rude reproach,
And in defence of my lord’s worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms.
VERNON.
And that is my petition, noble lord;
For though he seem with forged quaint conceit
To set a gloss upon his bold intent,
Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him,
And he first took exceptions at this badge,
Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower
Bewray’d the faintness of my master’s heart.
YORK.
Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
SOMERSET.
Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
Though ne’er so cunningly you smother it.
KING HENRY.
Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men,
When for so slight and frivolous a cause
Such factious emulations shall arise!
Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
YORK.
Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
And then your Highness shall command a peace.
SOMERSET.
The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
YORK.
There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
VERNON.
Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
BASSET.
Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.