Field of battle between Sandal Castle and Wakefield.
 Alarum. 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 accursd duke,
	Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

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, forced off by SOLDIERS.

Clifford	How now, is he dead already? Or is it fear
	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.
	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.

Clifford	In vain thou speak'st, poor boy: my father's blood
	Hath stopped 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 I thy brethren here, their lives and thine
	Were not revenge sufficient for me;
	No, if I digged 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 accursd line,
	And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
	Therefore-

Rutland	O, let me pray before I take my death.
	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.
	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.

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;
	And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade
	Shall rust upon my weapon till thy blood
	Congealed with this do make me wipe off both.
													[Exit.
