Field of Battle between Sandal Castle and Wakefield. | |
| |
Alarums: Excursions. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor. | |
| Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to ’scape their hands? | |
| Ah! tutor, look, where bloody Clifford comes! | 4 |
| |
Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers. | |
| Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. | |
| As for the brat of this accursed duke, | |
| Whose father slew my father, he shall die. | 8 |
| Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company. | |
| Clif. Soldiers, away with him. | |
| Tut. Ah! Clifford, murder not this innocent child, | |
| Lest thou be hated both of God and man! [Exit, forced off by Soldiers. | 12 |
| Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or is it fear | |
| That makes him close his eyes? I’ll open them. | |
| Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o’er the wretch | |
| That trembles under his devouring paws; | 16 |
| And so he walks, insulting o’er his prey, | |
| And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder. | |
| Ah! gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, | |
| And not with such a cruel threatening look. | 20 |
| Sweet Clifford! hear me speak before I die: | |
| I am too mean a subject for thy wrath; | |
| Be thou reveng’d on men, and let me live. | |
| Clif. In vain thou speak’st, poor boy; my father’s blood | 24 |
| Hath stopp’d the passage where thy words should enter. | |
| Rut. Then let my father’s blood open it again: | |
| He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. | |
| Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine | 28 |
| Were not revenge sufficient for me; | |
| No, if I digg’d up thy forefathers’ graves, | |
| And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, | |
| It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. | 32 |
| The sight of any of the house of York | |
| Is as a fury to torment my soul; | |
| And till I root out their accursed line, | |
| And leave not one alive, I live in hell. | 36 |
| Therefore— [Lifting his hand. | |
| Rut. O! let me pray before I take my death. | |
| To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! | |
| Clif. Such pity as my rapier’s point affords. | 40 |
| Rut. I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me? | |
| Clif. Thy father hath. | |
| Rut. But ’twas ere I was born. | |
| Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, | 44 |
| Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, | |
| He be as miserably slain as I. | |
| Ah! let me live in prison all my days; | |
| And when I give occasion of offence, | 48 |
| Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. | |
| Clif. No cause! | |
| Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Stabs him. | |
| Rut. Dii faciant laudis summa sit ista tuœ! [Dies. | 52 |
| Clif. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! | |
| And this thy son’s blood cleaving to my blade | |
| Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, | |
| Congeal’d with this, do make me wipe off both. [Exit. | 56 |
