by my name? Belike
He was affected unto Ferdinand,
And for his sake (hearing he did me wrong)
Covets to make amends, or meanes to prove
If I imbrace him with unfayned love.
He shall not doubt of that.--Once more I say
Twas Ferdinand was the renowned Knight
Of all the world.

_Ferd_. But I deny that saying,
Giving to Pembroke that preeminence.

_Pem_. For Ferdinand my valour will I try.

_Ferd_. In Pembrooks valour I will fight and die.

[_Discover eche other in fighting_.

_Pem_. Eyther I dreame or this is Ferdinand.

_Ferd_. My sight deludes me or stout Pembroke lyves.

_Pem_. Thrice happy hour[143]! I do embrace my friend.

_Ferd_. Welcome, oh welcome, Pembrok, to myne armes,
Whom I imagined death had tane from me.

_Pem_. The like did I by Princely Ferdinand,
But that he lives my soule confounds with joy.

_Ferd_. Tell me, deare friend, since our unlucky fight
Have you heard ought of my disdainfull Love?

_Pem_. Of her and all the rest. Her Father lives:
This is his shield and this is great Navars,
This Rodoricks, [this] the Duke of Orleance,
And this malicious Burbons: all the which
I forc't from them to beautifie thy shrine.
But tis of Katharine thou desir'st to heare:
She likewise hath bin here; her flinty heart,
So much before inclined to cruelty,
Now waxeth tender: she no sooner saw
Thy picture here, but by heavens providence,
Or how I know not, she so doats on it
As I supposde she would a dyed for love.

_Ferd_. Has then my shaddow and supposed death
Brought that to passe my living substance could not?

_Pem_. It hath, and never Lady more enamour'd
Then now is Katharine of her Ferdinand.
I told her, and no more then truth I told,
A cunning Carver had cut out thy shape.
And whole proportion in white alablaster,
Which I intended here should be set up.
She earnestly entreated she might have
A sight of it and dayly be permitted
To deck thy tombe and statue with sweet flowers:
Shee's but even now departed to that end,
And will (I know) be quickly here agayne.
Now, for assurance I dissemble not,
Instead of thy resemblance cut in stone
Kneele here, thyself, and heare her pitious mone.

_Ferd_. Content! I hold your counsell for the best;
Weele once conclude our sorrowes with a jest.

_Pem_. Soft there's a cushen: nay, and you must be bare
And hold your hands up, as the maner is.

_Ferd_. What if I held a book as if I pray'd?

_Pem_. Twere best of all; and, now I think u