_Rut._ Then let my father’s blood open it again: [cac023] He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. _Clif._ Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine ·cac025· 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 [cac030] 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._ [cac034] _Rut._ O, let me pray before I take my death! ·cac035· 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, ·cac040· 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. ·cac045· _Clif._ No cause! Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [cac047] [_Stabs him._ _Rut._ Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuæ! [cac048] [_Dies._ _Clif._ Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! And this thy son’s blood cleaving to my blade ·cac050· Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeal’d with this, do make me wipe off both. [cac052] [_Exit._ SCENE IV. _Another part of the field_. _Alarum. Enter_ RICHARD, Duke of York. _York._ The army of the queen hath got the field: [cad001] 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 pursued by hunger-starved wolves. ·cad005· 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 death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me, And thrice cried ‘Courage, father! fight it out!’ ·cad010· And full 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!’ ·cad015· And cried, ‘A crown, or else a glorious tomb! [cad016] A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!’ With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! We bodged again; as I have seen a swan [cad019] With bootless labour swim against the tide ·cad020· 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; [cad025] Here must I stay, and here my life must end. [cad026]