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King Henry VI, Part 3: Act 1 Scene 3
Scene III Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield.
- [Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor]
- Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?
- Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
- [Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers]
- Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
- As for the brat of this accursed duke,
- Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
- And I, my lord, will bear him company.
- Soldiers, away with him!
- Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
- Lest thou be hated both of God and man!
- [Exit, dragged off by Soldiers]
- How now! is he dead already? or is it fear
- That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.
- 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 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.
- In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
- Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.
- Then let my father's blood open it again:
- He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
- Had 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.
- [Lifting his hand]
- 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.
- I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?
- Thy father hath.
- 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 offence,
- Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
- No cause!
- Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
- [Stabs him]
- Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae!
- 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.