[SCENE 2.]
Alarum. Enter Navar, Bowyer, Nod, Core, Souldiers, [with] drum and colours.
Nav. The Alarum sounded in the enemies Campe; Now for Navar and Fame stand to it, sirs.
Bow. Hart, stand to it? heere's some of us knowes how to runne away and they be put to it. Though wee have left our brave Generall, the Earle of Pembrooke, yet here's Cavaliero Bowyer, Core and Nod, by Jesu, sound cards: and Mahound and Termagant[148] come against us, weele fight with them. Couragio, my hearts! S. George for the honour of England!
Nav. The adverse part comes on; fight gallantly.
Enter Fraunce, Flaunders and Souldiers, with Drum and Colours.
Lew. Is false Navar so thirsty to drinke bloud
That he must joyne the Squadron of his troops
Before the signall of the battel's given?
Belike you thought to take us unpreparde.
No, king: our wrong hangs like a watch before us,
And makes us nomber every short-lyvd minute
Till your lives answere for our Daughters death.
Charge, brave spirits! Saint Denis now for Fraunce!
Nav. Saint Denis for Navar! Alarum, Drums!
Alarum: they fight, Fraunce put to the worst; enter Rodorike and Peter; the fight continued, and Navar driven in.
Lew. Navar and his weake forces make retire; Pursue them, Sirs, the victorie is ours.
Rod. Be like starv'd Lions 'mongst a heard of Beasts,
Ruthelesse and bloudy; slaughter[149] all you meete
Till proud Navar be slayn or kisse your feet.
Saint Denis! and cry murder through the host!
Alarum. Enter Pembrooke, Ferdinand and Philip.
Pem. He that steps forward with a murdring thought,
Marries him selfe to death. Fraunce, cease the fight:
They are Frenchmen you pursue, Frenchmen you should save:
Dig not for Traytors love your subjects graves.
Lew. What franticke knights are those that dare oppose Their single force against our multitudes?
Phil. Those that wish you and Fraunce bright fames encrease, So you would chase hence war and welcome peace.
Rod. That was the Traytor that slew royall Burbon.
Pet. Downe with the villaynes.
Rod. Souldiers, seyze on him And then pursue Navar with sudden death.
Ferd. Ere the least hayre fall from his kingly head, Rodorick, thy base trunck shall be butchered.
Pem. Will you accept of peace?
Lew. Follow Navar!
Pet. Downe with that murderer!
Fer. Zounds, then, in spight Weele save Navar and chase you hence in fight.
All. Ha, ha!
Pem. Nay, smile not; though our number's few Our great hearts tell us we shall conquere you. Alarum and S. George!
Alarum: they fight. Enter Navar and his forces,
Fraunce chaste away.
Nav. Fraunce and his daunted forces gives us ground. Charge, charge agayne, and we are Conquerours.
Phil. Stand or ne're stirre agayne.
Nav. What meane these knights?
Pem. To stop your passage this way, great Navar.
I charge thee by the duty of a king,
Thy love to Justice and thy subjects lives,
You sound retreat and make a peace with Fraunce.
Nav. A peace! and have the vantage of the day!
Bow. That's a tricke by Jesu to mocke an Ape: wee'le none of that.
Nav. Wee'le have no peace but what our swords can make. Follow the chase.
Phil. Are you growne insolent? For one light puffe of fortune proves it so? Nay, then our swords turn to your overthrow.
Alarum: they fight and drive in Navar.
Fer. That was my father that you fought against.
Phil. You did as much to mine.
Pem. Princes, agree:
Force cannot end this war, but policy.
Therefore disperse your selves, and let our Squires
With Trumpets in their mouthes sound lowd retreat
Where you perceive the fight most violent.
The strangenesse of which act will straight amaze;
When they shall heare both peace and war denounc'd,
And one selfe instant, they will soone retire
To know the issue. Princes, fall to worke,
Tis worke of charity; 'twould doe me good
If we could end this battell without bloud.
Fer. I hope we shall: farewell, Ile to my charge.
Pem. The like will Pembrooke.
Phil. Philip is not last: Yet, though I seeke the safety of my friends, Rodorick shall lose his bloud e're this fight ends.
Alarum; excursions. Enter Peter leading Thomasin.
Pet. Struggle not, strive not; your sweete heart Bowyer cannot save you. Without prolixity you must goe with mee.
Tho. Helpe, helpe.
Pet. And the God of warre come in thy defence my humour is to kill him. Come away.
Enter Bowyer.
Bow. By Jesu, and you go this way you must pay custom. Zounds, you pick-hatch[150] Cavaliero petticote-monger, can you find time to be catching Thomasin? come, deliver, or by Zenacrib & the life of king Charlimayne, Ile thrash your coxcombe as they doe hennes at Shrovetyde[151]. No, will you not doe, you Tan-fat? Zounds, then have at you.
They fight, Bowyer hath the wench, rescued by Fraunce, recovered by Navar. Philip meetes Rodorick, rescued by Peter. Retreat is sounded, the enemies begin to retire, Rodorick chased by Philip. Enter at severall doores, after retreate sounded, Pembrooke and Ferdinand.
Ferd. Are the Kings severd? will they bow to peace?
Pemb. Peace is a welcome ghest unto their hearts,
But Rodoricke (like a greedy envious churle
Fearing to spend his wealth) still keeps them backe.
Tis he exasperates the Princes hate,
And when our Trumpets call them to retyre
He with warres clangor sets them on agayne.
Unless he be remoov'd our labour's lost.
Ferd. It shall not, for Ile seek him through the Host And with this sword pare off the Traytors head.
Pem. Doe, and Ile scoure these ranks: if Pembroks eye Encounters his, he meets his Tragedy.
Alarum. Enter Philip pursuing Rodoricke.
Phil. Stay, warlike friends, and ayd me in revenge.
Ferd. That is Rodoricke.
Pem. Heere's the Traytor, strike him downe.
Phil. Who lifts his arme at him strikes at my brest.
Rod. Why have you thus ring'd me about with swords?
Phil. To shew thee thou must dye.
Rod. What have I done That thus you labour my destruction?
Pem. Thou wer't a party in all Burbons wrongs.
Ferd. Falsely term'd Ferdinand a Ravisher.
Pem. Set discord 'twixt these kings.
Phil. Practised my death.
Pem. Villayne for this our swords shall stop thy breath.
Ferd. Stand not to argue, let's all runne at him.
Phil. Now as you love my love or prize mine honour,
Touch not the Traytor; he is Philips foe,
And none but I must work his overthrow.
Thrice in the battell he was rescued from me,
But now hee's fallen into the Lyons paw
From whence the whole world cannot ransome him.
Preservers of my life, heroick friends,
Be you my safety; keepe the souldyers off,
Whilst in the midst by fayre and equall fight
I send this Traytor to eternal night.
Ferd. By heaven agreed.
Pem. Heere Pembrooke takes his stand: Come Fraunce and all the world, I will not start Till Philips knightly sword pierce Rodoricks hart.
Rod. Accurst, I am betrayd, incompast round; Now lyfe and hope and state must kisse the ground.
Phil. Rodorick, thou seest, all wayes are stopt to flie; Be desperat then, fight bravely, and so die.
Alarum: they fight. Enter to Pembrooke Navar, Bowyer, and Souldiers: to Ferdinand Fraunce, Flaunders, and Souldiers: they fight and keepe them backe. Rodoricke would scape; still kept in the midst, and kild by Philip.
Phil. Now are his trecheries repaid with death.
Philip and Pembrooke, sound your retreats
With better hope; in him all hatred ends:
The kings will now love peace and soone be friends.
Exeunt. Enter Peter wounded, Bowyer following.
Bow. Zounds, never runne for the matter; a scratcht face can not serve your turne, we must have bloudy noses. Stand on your gard; and I do not make haggasse puddings of your guttes, Ile never dominier in the long Alleyes agayne.
Pet. Cymnel, Ile crack you for this. Ile teach you to deale with Peter de Lions, and that without prolixitie.
Bow. Do; have at you in earnest. S. George, you rogue!
Alarum; fight. Bowyer kills him.
Bow. So, there's for your prolixities, there's for Thomasin. The Thornbackly slave! and he were made of anything but gristles, I am a pumpian. 'Shart he had no mettle in him; yet how the villayne crak't[152] and dominierd when he was living: ah, sirra, never gryn for the matter, tis Captayne Bowyer that speaks it. When thou meetst the great Devill, commend me to him and say I sent him thee for a new years gift. And there's one Sarlaboys to, as arrant a blood-sucker and as notable a coward as ever drew weapon in a bawdy house, he carryes my marke about him. If Dicke Bowyer be not writ a bountifull benefactor in hell for my good deeds in sending thither such Cannibals, I am a rabbit sucker[153]: yet I scorne to vaunt of my deeds, too. They sound a retreat. Farewell, Peter, and learne hereafter what it is to be rivall to an English gentleman, Cavaliero Bowyer, one of the nine worthyes.
A retreyt. Enter at one dore Fraunce, Flaunders, and
Souldiers: at the other dore Navar, Bowyer and Souldiers.
Lew. Navar, why have you sounded a retreyt? Will your proud heart decline and call us lord?
Nav. We thought by the faynt language of your drums Fraunce would have knowne his errour and beg'd peace.
Lew. Fraunce beg a peace!
Nav. Navar call you his Lord!
Flan. Why did you cease the fight and sound retreat.
Bow. Not we by this beard, not we by the life of Pharo[154].
Nav. Your Trumpets, guided by your faynting breath, Dehorted us from war and sounded peace.
Lew. Navar derides us.
Nav. Fraunce, tis you that doo't.
Lew. Sound war and bravely let us once more too't.
Enter in the Middest Pembrooke, Ferdinand and Philip.
Pem. Kings of Navar and Fraunce, why doe you thus
With civill butchery wound this blessed land,
Which like a mother from her melting eyes
Sheds crimson teares to see you enemyes?
Lewes of Fraunce, wherein hath great Navar
Dangerd your state that you should prosecute
War with her largest ruine? how hath Fraunce
Sowed such inveterate hate within your brest
That to confound him you will undergoe
The orphans curse, the widdowes teares and cries
Whose husbands in these warres have lost their lives?
Ere you contend discourse your grievances.
Lew. False Ferdinand, his sonne, ravisht our child.
Ferd. Now by my knighthood, honor, and this gage, Fraunce, Ile approve you wrong that Ferdinand.
Phil. Who can accuse him?
Lew. That did Rodorick.
Pem. That Traytor for a deed so false, so foule, Hath answerd it by this even with his soule.
Nav. Our sonne and valours bloome, th[e] English Pembrooke, By Lewes treachery were butchered.
Phil. Were the whole world joynd in so false a thing, Alone Ide combat all and cleere the King.
Pem. Fraunce never had designe in their two deaths.
Nav. He leagu'd with Burbon that destroyd my child.
Lew. He poysoned her deservedly.
Phil. That deed of shame Cut off his life and raced out Burbons name.
Lew. His death shalbe thy death, for thy hand slue him.
Nav. This other in the battell twice to day Made us retire. Fraunce, shall we joyne in league Till we have veng'd our malice on these knights?
Lew. Navar, agreed. Souldiers, this kyld your Lords.
Nav. And this our fame. Let's mangle them with swords.
Pem. Take truce a while with rage: heare what we'le urge.
This knight slew Burbon, this inforst you fly;
Therefore you hate them and for hate they die.
Since then true vertue is disfigured,
Desert trod downe, and their heroick worth
In justice doomd on Traytors merits Death,
Behold these two, which thousands could not daunt,
But your ingratitude, on bended knee
Yeeld up their swoords to bide your tyranny.
'Twas he kild Burbon; if you love him dead,
Shew it by paring off this valiant head:
Do you the like. To this revenge apace:
They feare not threats, and scorne to beg for grace.
Lew. And they shall find none.
Nav. Knights, tryumph in death: We are your headesmen, kings shall stop your breath.
They take off their helmets.
Lew. Philip, my sonne!
Nav. Young Ferdinand my joy!
Pem. Call them not sonnes, whom you would fayne destroy.
Nav. Hold not our age too long in deepe suspect. Art thou [my] Ferdinand?
Lew. And thou [my] Philip?
Ferd. We are the friendly sonnes of adverse parents, Your long lost children: though supposed slayne, We live and come to joy your age agayne.
Nav. Welcome all earthly blisse.
Lew. Welcome, deare child; Thy presence halfe our sorrow hath exil'd.
Pem. How soon this Scene is changd! those that even now
Were sworne warres servants now to peace do bow:
Then, Pembrooke, strive to make their joys more full.
See, kingly father to that princely sonne,
Pembrooke, the hated murderer of his friend,
Pembrooke, that did devide thee from his sight
And cut so many passages of death
In his indeared bosome, humbly thus
Forgets his honour and from your hye hand
Invokes revenge for wounding Ferdinand.
Ferd. Still he surmounts me in an honour'd love.
Rise, friend, or if thou striv'st to have the world,
In me as in a glasse see a false friend.
Behold, I kneele and here proclayme to all
My friendship's broke but thine substantiall.
Nav. Model of vertue, honord Pembroks Earle,
Rise in as deare regard as Ferdinand.
Oh had I Bellamira once in hold,
Age would turne youth & I should ne're be old.
Lew. Had I my Katharina once agayne Our joy were then stretcht to the highest strayne: But she was ravisht and then murthered.
Phil. Beare not that hard opinion: Rodoricks toung Slaundred that Prince and did his vertue wrong.
Pem. Lewis of Fraunce, heare what an English Earle
Speaks in the front and view of all thy Host.
If ever Ferdinand staynd Katharines honour
I was a party: yet in all your Campe
Who dares step forth and call me ravisher?
No, Fraunce: know Pembroke is an Englishman
Highly deriv'd, yet higher in my thoughts;
And for to register mine acts in brasse,
Which all-devouring time shall ne're race out,
Have I through all the Courts of Christendome
In knightly tryall prov'd my vertue sound,
Raisd England's fame aloft; and shall I now
In her next continent, her neighbour Realme,
Fraunce, on whose bosome I may stand and see
That blessed soyle that bred and fostred me,
Soyle all my late got honour to consent
Unto a royall Princes ravishment?
Ide sooner from a mountayne cast my selfe,
Or from a hungry Lyon teare his prey,
Then dare to act a deed so infamous.
Enter Katharina.
But words are ayre. Lewis, behold this face:
This prooves our honour cleere from all disgrace.
Lew. My Katharine!
Phil. My deare Sister!
Fer. My fayre Love!
Pem. See, Princes, loves effect: she flies your hand To live imbrac't with her deare Ferdinand.
Lew. And heaven forbid that we should sunder them.
Navar, reach me thy hand: grym war is fled
And peace shall end the same in a nuptiall bed.
Sonne Philip, ratify your sisters choyce.
Phil. Even with my soule; for ever live you blest.
Oh, Bellamira, had not cursed Burbon
For beauty robd thy cheeks with leprosie,
Hadst then but stayd with me, as is their state,
So had bin mine, happy and fortunate.
Enter Clowne attyred like a Gentleman, Bellamira
following with a Scarfe on her face.
Clow. By your leave, sweet blouds: may a Gentleman or so deceyve two or three ounces of words in this assembly?
Lew. You may.
Clow. Is there not a young Kings sonne amongst you, who treading the steps of his father is called Philip.
Phil. I am the man thou seekst.
Clow. Then the old saying is verified, He that seeks shall find. Heere is a poore kinswoman of mine would desire some private conference with you, or so.
Phil. With me?—whom see I? Bellamira!
Nav. Daughter!
Phil. Do not deride my woes; speake, speake, I pray.
Pem. Looke not so strange; it is thy lovely Love
Thus manag'd to approve thy constancy.
Embrace her then: and now Navar and Fraunce,
Here end our strife and let all hatred fall
And turne this warre to Hymens festivall.
Nav. This Pembrooks counsell we subscribe unto.
Lew. The like doth Fraunce. Lovers, imbrace your loves
And, Captaines, joyne your bands; mix power with power
And let those swords, which late were drawne for death,
Sleepe in their sheaths. You, worthy Pembrooke[155],
And all your followers, shall receyve our favours
In plenteous largesse. So, set on to Court;
Sound Drums and Trumpets, deafe the ayre with cryes,
And fill eche subjects heart with joyes increase
T'applaud our childrens love and this dayes peace.
[Exeunt.