Enter Mont[surry] with all the murtherers.
Montsurry. Cowards! a fiend or spirit beat ye off!
They are your owne faint spirits that have forg'd
The fearefull shadowes that your eyes deluded:
The fiend was in you; cast him out, then, thus![70]
[Montsurry fights with D'Ambois.] D'Ambois hath Montsurry downe.
Tam. Favour my lord, my love, O, favour him!
Buss. I will not touch him. Take your life, my lord,
And be appeas'd. Pistolls shot within.
O then the coward Fates