_Clow_. Out of peradventure, Madam, the ghost of Saint George is come out of England to see what hospitality S. Denis keeps in Fraunce. _Pem_. Poore Bellamira, I lament thy state But I must still suppresse my discontent. --What are you, so deformed with lothsome spots? And what that Anticke keeps you company? _Clow_. Anticke; thou lyest: and thou wert a knight of ginger-bread I am no Anticke. The whole parish where I was borne will sweare that since the raigne of Charlemain there was not a better face bred or brought up amongst them. _Pem_. Away, ye russeting-- _Kath_. Have patience, Knight: how ever thus deform'd, This Lady is the daughter of Navar. Madam, it joyes me I have met you heere Though much laments me of your heavy plight. There needs no repetition of your wrong: I know the villayne Burbon did the deed, Whom my incensed brother will revenge. _Bel_. For Philips sake I have been martyrd thus, And for his sake left King and Courtly life To entertayne a Pilgrims payneful habit. But on what strange adventure stayes this Knight Within this desolate forsaken wood? _Kath_. For love of Ferdinand your princely brother Whose hearse he gards in honorable Armes. _Bel_. Is this my brothers Hearse; is this the place Where I was shipwrackt of a brothers name? Oh let me spend a loving sigh for him And sacrifice a sisters holy rites. For ever rest, sweet Ferdinand, in peace Untill thy body glorified from heaven Become immortal by thy soules returne. _Pem_. Poore Bellamira, how I pity thee, Yet must forbeare to comfort thy distresse. _Clow_. Is my yong Lord buried here? I say no more, but I pray God send him a joyful insurrection. _Kat_. Inough, sweet Bellamira. These leprous spots tis time they were remov'd. Come, goe with me: since I left Aquitayne And came acquaynted with these private walks, It was my happy chance to meet an Hermit Whose skill in Phisike warrants present cure And pure refining of your poysoned bloud. Ile bring you thither: afterward select Delicious sweets to decke your brothers tombe. Come, sirra, follow us. [_Exeunt_. _Clow_. Doe not think, Madam, that Ile forsake you. And so, sir, you that walk in pewter vessayle, like one of the worthyes, will you be rul'd by me? _Pem_. Wherein? _Clow_. To set a gyn for Woodcocks & catch your selfe first. [_Exit_. _Pem_. Hence, beetle-head. And, Pembrook, now bethink How great a tyde of miseries breakes in. First, thou art taxed with the losse of him Whom equall with thy selfe thou holdest Deare; Next, Bellamira is become a Leper, Whose absence Philip carefully laments; Then trecherous Burbon joynes himselfe with Fraunce And both the Kings are angerly incenst; But last, which is some comfort to the rest, Disdaynfull Katharine wastes with fruiteless love: Would all so minded like mishap might prove. But by this signall there are knights at hand: I must provide their valours to withstand.