War.
Clifford of Cumberland! 'tis Warwick calls;
And, if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
And dying men's cries do fill the empty air,
Proud northern Lord! Clifford of Cumberland!
Clifford! I say—come forth, and fight with me. Enter York.
How now, my noble Lord, what all a'foot?

York.
The deadly handed Clifford slew my steed;
But match to match I have encounter'd him,
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows,
Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.

Enter Old Clifford—(Warwick prepares to fight him)
Hold, Warwick! seek thee out some other game,
For I myself must hunt this deer to death,

War.
Then nobly, York. 'Tis for a crown thou fightest.
“As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to day,
“It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.” [Exit.

“O. Cliff.
What see'st thou in me, York?—Why dost thou pause?
Come on—I hold no commune with a traitor!” [Fight. Cliff. slain.

York.
Thus war hath given thee peace—rage, tranquil sleep,
Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will. [Exit. Alarm.—Excursions.—The Red Rose Banner routed. Enter Young Clifford.

Y. Cliff.
Shame and confusion! all is on the rout.
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
Where it should guard. O War! thou son of Hell,
Whom angry Heavens do make their minister,
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance! [Sees his father's body.
O let the vile world end,
And the premised flames of the last day
Knit earth and heaven together! Was it for thee
To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
The silver livery of advised age,
And in thy reverence, and thy chair days, thus
To die in ruffian battle? Ev'n at this sight

My heart is turn'd to stone; and, while 'tis mine,
It shall be stony! York not our old men spares.
No more will I their babes. Tears virginal,
Shall be to me even as the dew to fire;
And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,
Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax,
Henceforth, I will not know the name of pity.
Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house!
As did Æneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders,
But then the Trojan bore a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine! [Exit. bearing off his Father.

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