Edw. Thou pittiedst Rutland, and I will pittie thee.
[♦] George. Wheres captaine Margaret to fence you now?
War. They mocke thee Clifford, sweare as thou wast wont.
[♦] Rich. What not an oth? Nay, then I know hees dead.
135 Tis hard, when Clifford cannot foord his friend an oath.
By this I know hees dead, and by my soule,
Would this right hand buy but an howres life,
That I in all contempt might raile at him.
Ide cut it off and with the issuing bloud,
140 Stifle the villaine whose instanched thirst,