3 KING HENRY VI 1.3

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3 KING HENRY VI 1.3

Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield.

[Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor]

RUTLAND Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?

Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!

[Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers]

CLIFFORD Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.

As for the brat of this accursed duke,

Whose father slew my father, he shall die. 5

Tutor And I, my lord, will bear him company.

CLIFFORD Soldiers, away with him!

Tutor Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,

Lest thou be hated both of God and man!

[Exit, dragged off by Soldiers]

CLIFFORD How now! is he dead already? or is it fear 10

That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.

RUTLAND So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch

That trembles under his devouring paws;

And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,

And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. 15

Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,

And not with such a cruel threatening look.

Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die.

I am too mean a subject for thy wrath:

Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. 20

CLIFFORD In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood

Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.

RUTLAND Then let my father's blood open it again:

He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

CLIFFORD Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine 25

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.

The sight of any of the house of York 30

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.

Therefore--

[Lifting his hand]

RUTLAND O, let me pray before I take my death! 35

To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!

CLIFFORD Such pity as my rapier's point affords.

RUTLAND I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?

CLIFFORD Thy father hath.

RUTLAND But 'twas ere I was born.

Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, 40

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,

Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. 45

CLIFFORD No cause!

Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.

[Stabs him]

RUTLAND Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae!

[Dies]

CLIFFORD Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!

And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade 50

Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood,

Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.

[Exit]

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RUTLAND		Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?
		Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
		[Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers]

CLIFFORD	Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
	As for the brat of this accursed duke,
	Whose father slew my father, he shall die.	5

Tutor		Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
		Lest thou be hated both of God and man!
		[Exit, dragged off by Soldiers]

CLIFFORD		How now! is he dead already? or is it fear	10
		That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.

RUTLAND	So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
	That trembles under his devouring paws;
	And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,
	And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.	15
	Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,
	And not with such a cruel threatening look.
	Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die.
	I am too mean a subject for thy wrath:
	Be thou revenged on men, and let me live.	20

CLIFFORD		In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
		Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.

RUTLAND		Then let my father's blood open it again:
		He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

CLIFFORD	Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine	25
	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.
	The sight of any of the house of York	30
	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.
	Therefore--
	[Lifting his hand]

RUTLAND		O, let me pray before I take my death!	35
		To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!

RUTLAND	But 'twas ere I was born.
	Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,	40
	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,
	Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.	45

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CLIFFORD		No cause!
		Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
		[Stabs him]

CLIFFORD	Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!
	And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade	50
	Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood,
	Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.
	[Exit]