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;The army of the Queen mean to besiege us.SIR JOHN.She shall not need;we'll meet her in the field.YORK.What,with five thousand men?RICHARD.Ay,with five hundred,father,for a need.A woman's general;what should we fear?[A march afar off]EDWARD.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 our victory.Many a battle have I won in France,When as the enemy hath been ten to one;Why should I not now have the like success?Exeunt
SCENE III.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 accursed 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 threat'ning look!Sweet Clifford,hear me speak before I die.I am too mean a subject for thy wrath;Be thou reveng'd on men,and let me live.CLIFFORD.In vain thou speak'st,poor boy;my father's blood Hath stopp'd 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 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 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-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,Congeal'd with this,do make me wipe off both.Exit
SCENE IV.Another part of the field
Alarum.Enter the 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 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 death.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 purple falchion,painted to the hilt In blood of those that had encount'red him.And when the hardiest warriors did retire,Richard cried 'Charge,and give no foot of ground!'And cried 'A crown,or else a glorious tomb!A sceptre,or an earthly sepulchre!'With this we charg'd again;but out alas!We bodg'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 numb'red that make up my life;Here must I stay,and here my life must end.
Enter QUEEN MARGARET,CLIFFORD,NORTHUMBERLAND,the PRINCE OF WALES,and soldiers
Come,bloody Clifford,rough Northumberland,I dare your quenchless fury to more rage;I am your butt,and I abide your shot.NORTHUMBERLAND.Yield to our mercy,proud Plantagenet.CLIFFORD.Ay,to such mercy as his ruthless arm With downright payment show'd unto my father.Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car,And made an evening at the noontide prick.YORK.My ashes,as the phoenix,may bring forth A bird that will revenge upon you all;And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven,Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.Why come you not?What!multitudes,and fear?CLIFFORD.So cowards fight when they can fly no further;So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;So desperate thieves,all hopeless of their lives,Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.