Lew. Navar, thou dar'st not.
Nav. Now by Saynt Denis and our Grandsire's tombe Weele meet thee.
Lew. Welcome. O bring valiant men, Weel think on nought but graves & tombs till then.
[Exeunt.
Rod. Ha, ha! I laugh to see these kings at jarr.
How civill discord, like a raging floud
Swelling above her banks, shall drowne this land
Whilst Rodoricke on her ruines builds his hopes.
The king of Fraunce, through my suggestion,
Thinks Katherine his daughter ravished,
Who onely, winged with love, is fled the Campe.
Pembrooke and Ferdinand, in mutual strife,
Slayne by eche other doth confirme my words
And for revenge whets keene the two Kings swords.
[Exit.
Actus Quartus.
[SCENE 1.]
Enter Pembrooke armde and the Forrester.
Pem. I thank thee, Forrester, whose rough grown walks,
Wild in aspect, afford more courtesy
Then places smoother for civility.
My life, redeemd by thy industrious hand,
Remaynes in love and duty bound to thee.