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.