| ACT I SCENE III | 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. | 40 |
| 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 offence, | 45 |
| Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. |
| 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! | 50 |
| 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] |
The Essential Student History Quiz (with answers and illustrations)