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| The Third part of King Henry the Sixth |
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| Henry VI, part 3
| Act 1, Scene 3
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Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his TutorRUTLAND
Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?CLIFFORD
Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers
Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.Tutor
As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
And I, my lord, will bear him company.CLIFFORD
Soldiers, away with him!Tutor
Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,CLIFFORD
Lest thou be hated both of God and man!
Exit, dragged off by Soldiers
How now! is he dead already? or is it fearRUTLAND
That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.
So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretchCLIFFORD
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 bloodRUTLAND
Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.
Then let my father's blood open it again:CLIFFORD
He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
Had thy brethren here, their lives and thineRUTLAND
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.
Therefore--
Lifting his hand
O, let me pray before I take my death!CLIFFORD
To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!
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.CLIFFORD
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!RUTLAND
Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
Stabs him
Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae!CLIFFORD
Dies
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.
Exit
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Shakespeare homepage
| Henry VI, part 3
| Act 1, Scene 3
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