guile? What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. Is that the worst this letter doth contain? It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes. Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him And give him chastisement for this abuse. How say you, my lord? are you not content? Content, my liege! yes, but that I am prevented, I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. Then gather strength and march unto him straight: Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason And what offence it is to flout his friends. I go, my lord, in heart desiring still You may behold confusion of your foes. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too. This is my servant: hear him, noble prince. And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him. Be patient, lords; and give them leave to speak. Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom? With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. What is that wrong whereof you both complain? First let me know, and then I'll answer you. 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. 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. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. 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. Let this dissension first be tried by fight, And then your highness shall command a peace. The quarrel toucheth none but