Rich. An oath is of no moment," being not took Before a true and lawful magiftrate;

That hath authority o'er him that fwears.
Henry had none; but did ufurp the place.
Then, feeing 'twas he that made you to depofe,
Your oath, my Lord, is vain and frivolous;
Therefore, to arms. And, father, do but think
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
Within whofe circuit is Elyfium,

And all that Poets feign of blifs and joy.
Why do we linger thus? I cannot reft,
Until the white Rofe that I wear be dy'd
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
York. Richard, enough. I will be King, or die.
Brother, thou fhalt to London presently,

And whet on Warwick to this enterprize.
Thou, Richard, fhalt to th' Duke of Norfolk go,
And tell him privily of our intent.

You, Edward, fhall unto my Lord Cobham,
With whom the Kentifhmen will willingly rife.
In them I trust; for they are foldiers,
Wealthy and courteous, liberal, full of fpirit. *

7 An oath is of no moment,-] The obligation of an oath is here eluded by very defpicable fophiftry. A lawful magiftrate alone has the power to exact an oath, but the oath derives no part of its force from the magiftrate. The plea against the obligation of an oath obliging to maintain an ufurper, taken from the unlawfulness of the oath itfelf in the foregoing play, was rational and just.

8 In former Editions:
Witty, courteous, liberal, full

of Spirit.] What a bleffed harmonious Line have the Editors given us, and what a promiting Epithet, in 7ork's behalf,

from the Kentifhmen being fo witty; I can't be fo partial, however, to my own County, as to let this Compliment pafs. I make no Doubt to read,

for they are Soldiers. Wealthy and courteous, liberal, full of Spirit.

Now thefe five Characteristicks anfwer to Lord Say's Defcription of them in the preceding Play.

Kent in the commentaries Cæfar

writ,

Is term'd the civil'ft Place in all this ifle;

The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy. THEOBALD. This is a conjecture of very little import.

While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more
But that I feek occafion how to rife,

And yet the king not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the house of Lancaster?

Enter Messenger.

But ftay, what news? why com'ft thou in fuch post? The Queen, with all the northern Earls and

Gab.

Lords,

Intend here to befiege you in your castle.
She is hard by with twenty thousand men ;
And therefore fortify your Hold, my Lord.
York. Ay, with my fword. What! think'ft thou
that we fear them?

Edward and Richard you fhall ftay with me;
My brother Montague fhall poft to London,
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the reft,
Whom we have left protectors of the King,
With powerful policy ftrengthen themselves,
And truft not fimple Henry nor his oaths.
Mont. Brother, I go, I'll win them, fear it not,
And thus most humbly I do take my leave.

[Exit Montague.

Enter Sir John Mortimer and Sir Hugh Mortimer.

York. Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, You are come to Sandal in a happy hour.

The army of the Queen means to befiege us.

Sir John. She fhall not need, we'll meet her in the field.

York. What with five thousand men ?

Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.

The Queen, with all, &c.] I know not whether the authour intended any moral inftruction, but he that reads this has a ftriking admonition against that presipitancy by which men often

ufe unlawful means to do that which a little delay would put honeftly in their power. Had York ftaid but a few moments he had faved his caufe from the flain of perjury.

A woman's General; what should we fear?

[A march afar off.

Edw. I hear their drums: let's fet our men in order, And iffue forth, and bid them battle strait,

York. Five men to twenty! Though the odds be

1 doubt not, Uncle, of our victory.

Many a battle have I won in France,

When as the enemy hath been ten to one;
Why should I not now have the like fuccefs?

SCENE V.

great,

[Alarm. Exeunt.

A Field of Battle between Sandal-Castle and Wakefield. Enter Rutland and his Tutor.

Rut.

A

H, whither shall I fly to 'fcape their hands?
Ah, Tutor, look where bloody Clifford

comes.

Enter Clifford and Soldiers.

Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood faves thy life; As for the Brat of this accurfed Duke,

Whofe father flew my father, he fhall die.

Tutor. And I, my Lord, will bear him company. Clif. Soldiers, away, and drag him hence perforce. Tutor. Ah! Clifford, murder not this innocent child, Left thou be hated both of God and man.

[Exit, dragg'd off. Clif. How now? is he dead already? or, is't fear That makes him clofe his eyes? I'll open them.

Rut. So looks the pent-up Lion o'er the wretch
That trembles under his devouring paws;
And fo he walks infulting o'er his prey,
And fo he comes to rend his limbs afunder.
Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy fword,
And not with fuch a cruel threatning look.

So looks the pent-up lion. That is, the lion that hath been long confined without food, and is let out to devour a man condemned.

Sweet

Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die;
I am too mean a Subject of thy wrath,
Be thou reveng❜d on men, and let me live.

Clif. In vain thou speak'ft, poor boy; my father's
blood

Hath ftopt the paffage where thy words fhould enter.
Rut. Then let my father's blood open't again;
He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine Were not Revenge fufficient for me.

No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves,
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not flake mine ire, nor eafe my heart.
The fight of any of the House of York
Is as a Fury to torment my foul,
And till I root out their accurfed Line,
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore-

[Lifting his band.
Rut. O let me pray before I take my death.
-To thee I pray fweet Clifford, pity me.
Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords.

Rut. I never did thee harm; why wilt thou flay me?
Clif. Thy father hath.

Rut. But 'twas, ere I was born.

Thou haft one fon, for his fake pity me;

Left in revenge thereof, fith God is juft,

He be as miferably flain as I.

Ah, let me live in prifon all my days,

And when I give occafion of offence,

Then let me die, for now thou haft no cause.
Clif. No caufe!

Thy father flew my father, therefore die.

[Clif. ftabs him.

Rut. Dii faciant, laudis fumma fit ifta tue!
Clif. Plantagenet, I come, Plantagenet !
And this thy fon's blood cleaving to my blade
Shall ruft upon my weapon, till thy blood,

[Dies.

Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. [Exit.

K 3

SCENE

Alarm.

SCENE VI.

Enter Richard Duke of York.

Tork. The army of the Queen hath got the field; My Uncies both are flain in refcuing me,

And all my Followers to the eager foe

Turn Back, and fly like fhips before the wind,
Or lambs purfu'd by hunger-starved wolves.
My Sons, God knows, what hath bechanced them,
But this I know, they have demean'd themselves
Like men born to Renown, by life or death.
Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
And thrice cry'd, Courage, father! fight it out:
And full as oft came Edward to my fide,
With purple falchion painted to the hilt
In blood of thofe, that had encounter'd him:
And when the hardieft warriors did retire,
Richard cry'd, Charge! and give no foot of ground;
And cry'd A Crown, or elfe a glorious tomb,
A Scepter or an earthy Sepulchre.

With this we charg'd again; but out! alas,
We bodg'd again, as I have feen a Swan
With bootlefs labour fwim against the tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
[Abort alarm within,

Ah! hark, the fatal followers do purfue,
And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury,
And were I ftrong I would not fhun their fury.
The fands are number'd, that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life muft end,

We bodg'd again.-] Of place. I fuppofe it is only the this word the meaning is plain, word budged, perhaps misprintbut I never faw it in any other ed.

Enter