_Forasmuch as our high and mighty Master_, Philip, _the potent_ _and most Catholick King of_ Spain, _hath not only in his own_ _Royal person, been long, and often sollicited, and grieved, with the deadly and [uncurable] hatred, sprung up betwixt the two antient and most [honorable] descended Houses of these his two dearly and equally beloved Subjects_, Don Ferdinando de Alvarez, _and_ Don Pedro de Vitelli: _(all which in vain his Majesty hath often endeavored to reconcile and qualifie:) But that also through the debates, quarrels, and outrages daily arising, falling, and flowing from these great heads, his publick civil Government is seditiously and barbarously molested and wounded, and many of his chief Gentry (no less tender to his Royal Majesty then the very branches of his own sacred blood) spoyld, lost, and submerged, in the impious_ _inundation and torrent of their still-growing malice: It hath therefore pleased His sacred Majesty, out of his infinite affection to preserve his Common-wealth, and general peace, from farther violation, (as a sweet and heartily loving father of his people) and on the earnest petitions of these arch-enemies, to Order, and ordain, that they b[e] ready, each with his well-chosen and beloved friend, armed at all points like Gentlemen, in the Castle of_ St. Jago, _on this present Monday morning betwixt eight and nine of the clock, where (before the combattants be allowed to commence this granted Duel) This to be read aloud for the publick satisfaction of his Majesties well bel[o]ved Subjects._ 'Save the King. [_Drums within._ _Say._ Hark their Drums speak their insatiate thirst Of blood, and stop their ears 'gainst pious peace, Who gently whispering, implores their friendship! _Assist._ Kings nor authority can master fate; Admit 'em then, and blood extinguish hate. _Enter severally,_ Alvarez, and Lucio, Vitelli _and_ Lamora[l]. _Say._ Stay, yet be pleas'd to think, and let not daring Wherein men now adaies exceed even beasts, And think themselves not men else, so transport you Beyond the bounds of _Christianity_: Lord _Alvarez, Vitelli_, Gentlemen, No Town in _Spain_, from our _Metropolis_ Unto the rudest hovel, but is great With your assured valors daily proofs: Oh will you then, for a superfluous fame, A sound of honor, which in these times, all Like hereticks profess (with obstinacy) But most erroneously venture your souls, 'Tis a hard task, through a Sea of blood To sail, and land at Heaven?