Henry VI, Pt. 3
Act I, Scene 3
Field of battle between Sandal Castle and Wakefield.
- Alarums. Enter Rutland and his Tutor.
Earl of Rutland1 - 2
- Ah, whither shall I fly to scape their hands?
- Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
- Enter Clifford and Soldiers.
Lord Clifford3 - 5
- Chaplain, away, thy priesthood saves thy life.
- As for the brat of this accursed duke,
- Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
Tutor to Rutland6
- And I, my lord, will bear him company.
- Soldiers, away with him!
Tutor to Rutland8 - 9
- Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
- Lest thou be hated both of God and man.
- Exit dragged off by Soldiers.
Lord Clifford10 - 11
- How now? Is he dead already? Or is it fear
- That makes him close his eyes? I’ll open them.
Earl of Rutland12 - 20
- 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.
- Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword
- And not with such a cruel threat’ning look.
- 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.
Lord Clifford21 - 22
- In vain thou speak’st, poor boy; my father’s blood
- Hath stopp’d the passage where thy words should enter.
Earl of Rutland23 - 24
- Then let my father’s blood open it again,
- He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
Lord Clifford25 - 34
- Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine
- 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
- 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.
Earl of Rutland35 - 36
- O, let me pray before I take my death!
- To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!
- Such pity as my rapier’s point affords.
Earl of Rutland38
- I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me?
- Thy father hath.
Earl of Rutland40 - 46
- But ’twas ere I was born.
- Thou hast one son, for his sake pity me,
- 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 offense,
- Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
Lord Clifford47 - 48
- No cause?
- Thy father slew my father; therefore die.
- Stabs him.
Earl of Rutland49
- Dii faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae!
Lord Clifford50 - 53
- 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.