Alberto. That's the Dukes Drum.
Fred. They are welcome to their death, The ground they tread on covers them with earth.
[Exeunt.
Enter Fredericke and Duke severall.
Fred. The enemy sends forth a Champion To encounter me, I heard him use my name; The honour of the combate shall be mine.
Duke. Come, boy, retreate not, only I intend With thy lifes losse this bloody warre to end.
Fred. My naturall father in my blood I feele, Passion more powerfull then that conquering steele.
Duke. Why dost thou pause, base boy? thy Soveraigne's come, To inter the life I gave thee in this tombe.
Fred. My father, oh my father! nature, be still That I may have my fame, or he his will.
Duke. What, dost thou feare thy cause? is't now so evill?