Rich.
Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone:
Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.

Clif.
Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone:
This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York;
And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland;
And here's the heart that triumphs in their death
And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother
To execute the like upon thyself;
And so, have at thee! [They fight. ^note Warwick comes; Clifford flies.

Rich.
Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase;
For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. [Exeunt.

^note

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