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Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
that I wear, be died
York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.-Brother, thou shalt to London presently, And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.Thou, Richard, shalt unto the duke of Norfolk, And tell him privily of our intent.You, Edward, shall unto my lord Cobham, With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise : In them I trust; for they are soldiers, Witty and courteous, liberal, full of spirit.While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, But that I seek occasion how to rise ; And yet the king not privy to my drift, Nor any of the house of Lancaster?
Enter a Messenger. But, stay; What news? Why com’st thou in such post?
Mess. The queen, with all the northern earls and lords,
that we fear them?
Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not :
Enter Sir John and SIR Hugh MORTIMER. York. Sir John, and sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles !
You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her in the field.
Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.
[A March afar off. 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 oor victory. Many a battle have I won in France, When as the enemy bath been ten to one ; Why should I not now have the like success?
SCENE Ill. Plains near SANDAL CASTLE. Alarums: Excursions. 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.
Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
Tut. Ah, Clifford! murder not this innocent child, Lest thou be hated both of God and man.
[Exit, forced off by Soldiers. Cliff. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it-fear, That makes him close his eyes?
--I'll open them.
I am too mean a subject for thy wrath,
blood 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.
Cliff. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, Were not revenge sufficient for me; No, if I diggd up thy forefathers' graves, And hung their rotten coffins up in chaios, 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. Rut. O, let me pray before I take my death :-To thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me!
Cliff. Such pity as my rapier's point affords.
But 'twas ere I was born.
Cliff. No cause?
[Clifford stabs him. Rut. Dii faciunt, laudis summa sit istá tua! [Dies.
CliffPlantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! And this thy son's blood, cleaving to my blade, Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeald with this, do make me wipe of both. [Exit.
SCENE IV. The same.
Alarum. Enter YORK. York. The army of the queen bath 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, Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves. My sons God knows, what hath bechanced them: But this I know,—they have demean'd themselves Like men born to renown, by life, or deall. Three times did Richard make a lane to me; And thrice cried,-Courage, futher! fight it out! And fall as oft came Edward to my side, With purple falchion, painted to the hilt In blood of those that had encounter'd him: And when the hardiest warriors did retire, Richard cried; -Charge! and give no foot of ground ! A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre! With this we charg'd again: but, out, alas ! We badg'd again; as I have seen a swan With bootless labour swim against the tide, And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
[A short alarum within. Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury: And, were I strong, I would not shun their fury: The sands are number'd, that make up my life; Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUM
BERLAND, and Soldiers. Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland, I dare your quenchless fury to more rage; I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. Cliff. Ay, to such meroy, as his ruthless arm, With downright payment, show'd unto my father.
Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his car,
York. My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
Cliff. So cowards fight, when they can fly no further;
York. 0, 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.
Cliff. I will not bandy with thee word for word; But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. [Draws.
Q. Mar. Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes, I would prolong awhile the traitor's life :Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland.
North. Hold, Clifford ; do not honour bim so much, To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart : What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, For one to thrust his band between his teeth, When he might spurn him with his foot away? It is war's prize to take all vantages; And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
[They lay Hands on York, who struggles. Cliff. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. North. Šo doth the coney struggle in the net.
[York is taken Prisoner. York. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty So true men yield, with robbers so o'er-match'd. [now
North. What would your grace have done unto him