RICHARD.
Fie, charity, for shame! Speak not in spite,
For you shall sup with Jesu Christ tonight.
YOUNG CLIFFORD.
Foul stigmatic, that’s more than thou canst tell.
RICHARD.
If not in heaven, you’ll surely sup in hell.
[Exeunt severally.]
SCENE II. Saint Albans
The sign of the Castle Inn is displayed. Alarums to the battle. Enter Warwick.
WARWICK.
Clifford of Cumberland, ’tis Warwick calls;
An if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
And dead men’s cries do fill the empty air,
Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me!
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
Enter York.
How now, my noble lord? What, all afoot?
YORK.
The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed,
But match to match I have encountered him
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.