Lord Clifford. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
Tutor of Rutland. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
Lord Clifford. Soldiers, away with him!
Tutor of Rutland. Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
Lest thou be hated both of God and man!
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