Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Rutland. Enter Clifford.
Clifford. Clifford.
Clifford. Chaplaine away, thy Priesthood saues thy life.
Clifford. As for the Brat of this accursed Duke,
Clifford. Whose Father slew my Father, he shall dye.
Tutor. Tutor.
Tutor. And I, my Lord, will beare him company.
Clifford. Souldiers, away with him.
Tutor. Ah Clifford, murther not this innocent Child,
Tutor. Least thou be hated both of God and Man.
Tutor. Exit.
Clifford. How now? is he dead alreadie?
Clifford. Or is it feare, that makes him close his eyes?
Clifford. Ile open them.
Rutland. Rutland.
Rutland. So looks the pent‑vp Lyon o're the Wretch,
Rutland. That trembles vnder his deuouring Pawes: