EDW. I hear their drums: let's set our men in order, And issue forth and bid them battle straight. YORK. Five men to twenty! though the odds be great, I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. Many a battle have I won in France, When as the enemy hath been ten to one : Why should I not now have the like success? [Alarum. Exeunt. SCENE III. Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield. Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor. RUT. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! 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. Tur. 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, dragged off by Soldiers. 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; 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 Were not revenge sufficient for me; No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, RUT. O, let me pray [Lifting his hand. before I take my death! To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! CLIF. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. 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, Ah, let me live in prison all my days; Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Stabs him. RUT. Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuæ ! [Dies. 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. SCENE IV. Another part of the field. [Exit. Alarum. Enter RICHARD, DUKE of York. YORK. The army of the queen hath got the field: My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; And all my followers to the eager foe Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind And full as oft came Edward to my side, With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; And were I strong, I would not shun their fury: life; Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, NORTH. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? CLIF. So cowards fight when they can fly no further; So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; YORK. O Clifford, but bethink thee once again, And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face, And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this! CLIF. I will not bandy with thee word for word, But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. causes I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. NORTH. Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: And ten to one is no impeach of valour. [They lay hands on YORK, who struggles. |