Bur. Philip!
Phil. I, Philip, Bellamiraes Love,
Whose beauty, villayne, thou hast poysoned;
For which I have vow'd thy death, and thou shall dye.
Therefore betake you to what fence you will;
Amongst this bundle chuse one weapon forth
And like a worthy Duke prepare thy selfe
In knightly manner to defend thy life;
For I will fight with thee and kill thee, too,
Or thou shalt give an end unto my life.
But if thou call unto thy slaves for helpe,
Burbon, my sword shall nayle thee to the wall.
And thinke Prince Philip is a Prince indeed
To give thee this advantage for thy life.
Bur. Boy, I will scourge your insolence with death.
Phil. Come on. Fight, and kill Burbon.
Bur. Oh, I am slayne.
[Enter Rodorick.]
Rod. Murder! murder! Burbon the Duke is slayne!
Phil. Peace, Roderick, I am Philip thy deare friend.
Rod. Thou art a counterfet, I know thee not.
Phil. Didst not thou guide me unto Burbons Tent?