Duke. None but by death; Thy head is forfeit for that daring breath.
Alfred. Submit, degenerate and presumptuous Lord.
Albert. When we are ignorant to weild a sword.
Fred. Never shall noble knee bend to this ground, As long as that vile strumpet liveth crownd.
Duke. I cannot stay to heare my love deprav'd.
In few words is it peace, or shall we fight
Till our deepe wounds shall dampe the heavenly light,
Make the ayre purple with the reaking gore?
Fre. Fight, whilst life serves you, we will nere give ore; The grasse greene pavement shall be drownd in blood, And yet Ile wade to kill her in the flood.
Duke. Alarum, Drum! madnesse is on their side,
All vertuous counsell is by them defied.
Upon our part strike Drums, Trumpets proclaime
Death most assur'd to those that love their shame.
Alarum, fight lustily, and drive away the Duke; Fredericke pursues Valentia over the stage and takes her; a Retreate sounded.
Enter at one doore the Duke, Mon., Hatto, and Alfred, with Drum and Colours.—Enter at the other doore Fredericke leading Valentia prisoner, Rinaldo and Alberto with Drum and Colours.
Duke. Why doe traitors sound retreate so soone?