Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, 40
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, 44
Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
Clif. No cause!
Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Stabs him.]
Clif. 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.
[Another Part of the Plains]
Alarum. Enter Richard, Duke of York.
York. The army of the queen hath got the field:
My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
And all my followers to the eager foe
and fly, like ships before the wind, 4
Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves.
My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them:
But this I know, they have themselves
Like men born to renown by life or death. 8
Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
And thrice cried, 'Courage, father! fight it out!'
And full as oft came Edward to my side,
With , painted to the hilt 12
48 'The gods grant that this be the height of thy glory'
4 Turn back: present their backs
7 demean'd: behaved
12 purple: blood-color
falchion: curved sword, sabre