Enter Rutland and his Tutor. RUTLAND
Ah, whither shall I fly to scape their hands? Enter Clifford with Soldiers, all wearing the red rose. Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes. CLIFFORD
Chaplain, away. Thy priesthood saves thy life.
As for the brat of this accursèd duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die. 5 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. He exits, dragged off by Soldiers. CLIFFORD, approaching Rutland
How now? Is he dead already? Or is it fear 10
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. 15
Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword
And not with such a cruel threat’ning 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. 20 | Rutland (York's youngest son) and his tutor are hanging out when they bump into Clifford and his soldiers. Clifford pulls an Inigo Montoya again by saying your "father slew my father, he shall die." The tutor says that Rutland is just an innocent child, so Clifford shouldn't harm him. Rutland begs for his life, too. |
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. 25 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. 30
The sight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my soul,
And till I root out their accursèd line
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore— He raises his rapier. 35 | It doesn't do any good: Clifford says that because York killed his dad,
he wants York to suffer, too—and he won't stop until all Yorks are dead.
|
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. 40 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, 45
And when I give occasion of offense
Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. CLIFFORD
No cause? Thy father slew my father; therefore die. He stabs Rutland. RUTLAND
Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! He dies. CLIFFORD
Plantagenet, I come, Plantagenet! 50
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. He exits, with Soldiers carrying off Rutland’s body. | Rutland begs for his life again and asks Clifford to take pity. Clifford stabs him, anyway. Then Rutland utters something in Latin: "Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae." Translation: "May the gods cause your action to be that which makes you best known." Basically, Rutland is saying, "Go ahead and kill me, but that will be all you're known for." Well, that just gave us the chills. Rutland dies, and Clifford is unfazed. Death to all Yorks! he yells as he runs off. |