_Phil_. I, Philip, Bellamiraes Love, Whose beauty, villayne, thou hast poysoned; For which I have vow'd thy death, and thou shall dye. Therefore betake you to what fence you will; Amongst this bundle chuse one weapon forth And like a worthy Duke prepare thy selfe In knightly manner to defend thy life; For I will fight with thee and kill thee, too, Or thou shalt give an end unto my life. But if thou call unto thy slaves for helpe, Burbon, my sword shall nayle thee to the wall. And thinke Prince Philip is a Prince indeed To give thee this advantage for thy life. _Bur_. Boy, I will scourge your insolence with death. _Phil_. Come on. _Fight, and kill Burbon_. _Bur_. Oh, I am slayne. [_Enter Rodorick_.] _Rod_. Murder! murder! Burbon the Duke is slayne! _Phil_. Peace, Roderick, I am Philip thy deare friend. _Rod_. Thou art a counterfet, I know thee not. _Phil_. Didst not thou guide me unto Burbons Tent? _Rod_. I guide thee to the Tent? I know thee not. What! murder! ho! will no man heare my voyce? _Enter Peter and 2 or 3 souldiers_. _Pet_. Yes, here are those [that] can heare well ynough. Where is the murdered and the murderer? _Rod_. Peter, behold thy masters breathlesse truncke, And there's Prince Philip that hath murdered him. _Pet_. To avoyd prolixity Ile kill him; yet first give me leave to weepe for my master. _Rod_. First seyze the murderer and after weepe. _Phil_. He that first ventures to attach my life Let him be sure he hath a life to spare, For I will send one breathlesse to the grave. _Pet_. You that have nyne lives assault the gentleman. _Rod_. What, peasants! dare you not attach the slave? Ile rayse the whole Campe but Ile apprehend him. Alarum, drummes! Souldiers, incircle him, And eyther apprehend or slay the wretch. _Enter Pembrooke and Ferdinand_. _Pem_. Tis princely Philip. Helpe to rescue him. _Rod_. What slaves are these that dare oppose themselves In rescue of a murderer 'gainst an Host? _Ferd_. Such as will make thee, Roderick, fly for life. _Pet_. Zounds, men are mortall; to avoyd prolixity, My lord of Orleance, your best course is flying, And therein I will be your follower. _Rod_. Fly before three, and be thus strong? 'Twere madnesse. _Pem_. We trifle time; let's drive them from the Tent. _Alarum and drive away Peter and Rodoricke_. _Pem_. Live, worthy Philip; Pembrooke bids thee live, That did suspect this complot at the tombe When in the honour of Prince Ferdinand You did resigne your shield. _Phil_. Th[e] Earle of Pembrooke! _Ferd_. And Ferdinand that loves thee as his soule. _Phil_. Two lives I owe my starres beside mine owne In sending me two friends of such import. Durst you adventure thorow the enemies Campe And put your lives in danger to save mine?