YORK
The sands are number'd that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:
I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
The Duke of York reflects on the devastating defeat of his army at the Battle of Wakefield. Exhausted and surrounded, he accepts his impending death while praising the bravery of his sons.
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YORK
The sands are number'd that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:
I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
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