Historic%20Yorkshire

BLACK-FACED CLIFFORD. 57
And thou this day hadst kept thy thronein peace.
For what doth cherish weedsbut gentle air ?
And what makes robbers boldbut lenity?
Bootless are plaints, and careless aremy wounds.
No way to fly. no strength tohold out flight;
The foe is merciless, and will not pity me,
And at their handsIhave deserv'dno pity.
The air has got into my bleeding wounds,
And much efluse of blood doth make me faint.
Come, York and Richard, Warwick, and the rest;
Istabb'd your fathers, now comesplit my breast.
Thus ended the life of this bravebut cruel warrior, whose
services to the Lancastrian cause are little exaggerated
by the poet, but whose inhuman and bloody excesses
render him oneof the most detestable characters of even
that sanguinary period.