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Act 1, Scene 2
Henry VI, Part 3 Translation Act 1, Scene 3
Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor
RUTLAND
Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
RUTLAND
Ah, where should I run to escape them? Tutor, look, the bloodthirsty Clifford is coming!
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.
CLIFFORD
Go away, clergyman! Your holy position saves your life. And, as for the kid of this damned Duke, whose father killed my father, he will die.
TUTOR
And I, my lord, will bear him company.
TUTOR
And I will die with him, my lord.
CLIFFORD
Soldiers, away with him!
CLIFFORD
Soldiers, take him away!
TUTOR
Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,Lest thou be hated both of God and man!
TUTOR
Clifford, don't murder this innocent child, or you will be hated both by God and mankind!
Exit, dragged off by Soldiers
CLIFFORD
How now! is he dead already? Or is it fearThat makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.
CLIFFORD
What's happened? Is he already dead? Or does fear make 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 threatening 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.
RUTLAND
That's just how the caged lion looks at the poor victim that shakes under the lion's hungry paws. And thats just how the lion walks, conquering his prey. And that's just how the lion comes nearer to tear his victim's limbs apart. Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with your sword and not with such a cruel, threatening stare. Kind Clifford, listen to what I have to say before you kill me. I am too young for your anger. Take your revenge on men, and let me live.
CLIFFORD
In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's bloodHath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.
CLIFFORD
You speak in vain, poor boy. Thinking about my father's death and his spilled blood has prevented your words from reaching me.
RUTLAND
Then let my father's blood open it again:He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
RUTLAND
Then let my father's blood make it up to you. He is a man and you can fight him instead, Clifford.
CLIFFORD
Had 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—
CLIFFORD
Even if your brothers were here, killing you and killing them would not be enough of revenge for me. Even if I dug up your ancestors' graves and hung their rotting coffins up in chains, it still wouldn't calm my anger or soothe my heart. Just seeing anyone from the house of York torments my soul. And until I destroy your whole damned family line, leaving no one alive, I continue to live in hell. That's why—
Lifting his hand
RUTLAND
O, let me pray before I take my death!To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!
RUTLAND
Oh, let me pray before I die! I pray to you, kind Clifford, take pity on me!
CLIFFORD
Such pity as my rapier's point affords.
CLIFFORD
I'll take as much pity as the blade of my sword allows me to.
RUTLAND
I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?
RUTLAND
I never hurt you. Why do you want to kill me?
CLIFFORD
Thy father hath.
CLIFFORD
Your father hurt me.
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.
RUTLAND
But that was before I was even born. You have one son. Take pity on me for his sake, in case, since God is just, your son is killed just as horribly as I am. Oh, let me stay in prison for the rest of my life, and if I give you any reason to be angry with me there, then let me die. You have no reason to kill me now.
CLIFFORD
No cause!Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
CLIFFORD
No reason! Your father killed my father. And so, you die.
Stabs him
RUTLAND
Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae!
RUTLAND
May the Gods ensure that this is the high point of your glory.
Dies
CLIFFORD
Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!And this thy son's blood cleaving to my bladeShall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood,Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.
CLIFFORD
Plantagenet! I am coming for you, Plantagenet! And your son's blood here, clinging to my sword, will stay rusting here until your blood mixes with his. Then I'll wipe off both your blood and his.
Exit
