Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Clifford. The sight of any of the House of Yorke,
Clifford. Is as a furie to torment my Soule:
Clifford. And till I root out their accursed Line,
Clifford. And leaue not one aliue, I liue in Hell.
Clifford. Therefore‑‑‑
Rutland. Rutland.
Rutland. Oh let me pray, before I take my death:
Rutland. To thee I pray; sweet Clifford pitty me.
Clifford. Clifford.
Clifford. Such pitty as my Rapiers point affords.
Rutland. I neuer did thee harme: why wilt thou slay
Rutland. me?
Clifford. Thy Father hath.
Rutland. But 'twas ere I was borne.
Rutland. Thou hast one Sonne, for his sake pitty me,
Rutland. Least in reuenge thereof, sith God is iust,
Rutland. He be as miserably slaine as I.