_Kath_. As like as if it were himselfe indeed. And would to God my prayers might be heard, That, as the image of Pigmalion once, Life might descend into this sencelesse stone: But that was faynd, as my desire is fond; Relentlesse Death withholds my Ferdinand, And no intreaty may recover him. In token, then, I do repent my scorne That I was cruell to so kind a friend, Thou, the presenter of his absent person, Receive these sweets; thy temples be adornd With this fresh garland; thy white ivory hand Boast of this ring, which, if thou wert alive, Should bind our faythes up in a nuptiall knot: But, for thou canst not be reviv'd agayne, He dwell with thee in death, and, as my spirit Mounts to the happy mansion of thy spirit, So, to accompany thy shaddow here, Ile turne my body to a shaddow, too, And, kneeling thus, confront thy silent lookes With my sad looks. This is the Instrument: Now, Ferdinand, behold thy Katharine comes. _Ferd_. And she is welcome unto Ferdinand. _Pem_. Ile play the dark for both and say Amen. Nay, muse not, madam: tis no sencelesse Image, But the true essence of your wished Love. _Kath_. I am asham'd to looke him in the face. _Ferd_. Hide not those splendant lights: hereafter be A constant wife; it shall suffice for me. _Kath_. Heaven cast her off if Katharine prove not so. _Pem_. Of that no more: now let us haste from hence To quiet the dissension lately sprung Betweene your parents. Philip, likewise gone To be reveng'd on Burbons trechery, Perhaps may stand in need of friendly ayd. To him and them our vowes must next be payd. _Ferd_. What Pembrook counsels we consent unto. [_Exeunt_. _Actus Quintus_. [SCENE 1.] _Enter Rodoricke and Philip_. _Rod_. Now whilest our Armies wearied with the heat That the bright sunne casts from his midday throne, Abstayne from bloudy intercourse of war, He lead thee, Philip, unto Burbons Tent. _Phil_. Rodoricke, thou highly favourest me in this And doubt not, if my complot take effect, Ile make thee Duke of Burbon. _Enter Lewes, Flaunders, and Burbon_. _Rod_. Stay your speach; Heere comes King Lewis. _Phil_. They can not know me, I am so disguisde. _Bur_. Follow my counsayle and immediately Begin the Battayle. _Lew_. Why, the heat's [so] great It burnes [us] in our Armour as we march. _Flaun_. It burnes the enemy as well as wee. _Bur_. It warmes our Souldiers spirits and makes them fire, I had rather dye then, when my bloud is hot, Be awde by counsell till it freeze like Ice: He is no Souldier that for feare of heat Will suffer victory to fly the field. _Rod_. My Lord of Burbon, ye are more hot then wise. _Bur_. Rodorick, me thinkes you are very peremptory.