_Pem_. The rumour of the Duke of Burbons death Hath so possest the Campe with admiration That they regardlesse suffer all to passe. Only this Roderick wakens them a little, But cannot weane them from their wondring minds. _Phil_. That Roderick is a perfect villayne turn'd; For though he guided me unto his Tent And gave his liking that the Duke should dye, Yet how the villayne cryed to murder me! But come: in this confusion let's be gone, Tis dangerous to abide in Burbons Tent. Rodoricke, thou art the next must taste of death; That taske once done, we shall with little payne Our angry fathers reconcile agayne. [_Exeunt_. [SCENE 2.] _Alarum. Enter Navar, Bowyer, Nod, Core, Souldiers, [with] drum and colours_. _Nav_. The Alarum sounded in the enemies Campe; Now for Navar and Fame stand to it, sirs. _Bow_. Hart, stand to it? heere's some of us knowes how to runne away and they be put to it. Though wee have left our brave Generall, the Earle of Pembrooke, yet here's Cavaliero Bowyer, Core and Nod, by Jesu, sound cards: and Mahound and Termagant[148] come against us, weele fight with them. Couragio, my hearts! S. George for the honour of England! _Nav_. The adverse part comes on; fight gallantly. _Enter Fraunce, Flaunders and Souldiers, with Drum and Colours_. _Lew_. Is false Navar so thirsty to drinke bloud That he must joyne the Squadron of his troops Before the signall of the battel's given? Belike you thought to take us unpreparde. No, king: our wrong hangs like a watch before us, And makes us nomber every short-lyvd minute Till your lives answere for our Daughters death. Charge, brave spirits! Saint Denis now for Fraunce! _Nav_. Saint Denis for Navar! Alarum, Drums! _Alarum: they fight, Fraunce put to the worst; enter Rodorike and Peter; the fight continued, and Navar driven in_. _Lew_. Navar and his weake forces make retire; Pursue them, Sirs, the victorie is ours. _Rod_. Be like starv'd Lions 'mongst a heard of Beasts, Ruthelesse and bloudy; slaughter[149] all you meete Till proud Navar be slayn or kisse your feet. Saint Denis! and cry murder through the host! _Alarum. Enter Pembrooke, Ferdinand and Philip_. _Pem_. He that steps forward with a murdring thought, Marries him selfe to death. Fraunce, cease the fight: They are Frenchmen you pursue, Frenchmen you should save: Dig not for Traytors love your subjects graves. _Lew_. What franticke knights are those that dare oppose Their single force against our multitudes? _Phil_. Those that wish you and Fraunce bright fames encrease, So you would chase hence war and welcome peace. _Rod_. That was the Traytor that slew royall Burbon. _Pet_. Downe with the villaynes. _Rod_. Souldiers, seyze on him And then pursue Navar with sudden death. _Ferd_. Ere the least hayre fall from his kingly head, Rodorick, thy base trunck shall be butchered. _Pem_. Will you accept of peace? _Lew_. Follow Navar!