Fred_. In her allurements first [the strife] begun;
Banish her from the land, and Ile resigne.

_Duke_. Learne thine owne dutie, traitor, I know mine.

_Albert_. Then there's no banishment?

_Duke_. None but by death;
Thy head is forfeit for that daring breath.

_Alfred_. Submit, degenerate and presumptuous Lord.

_Albert_. When we are ignorant to weild a sword.

_Fred_. Never shall noble knee bend to this ground,
As long as that vile strumpet liveth crownd.

_Duke_. I cannot stay to heare my love deprav'd.
In few words is it peace, or shall we fight
Till our deepe wounds shall dampe the heavenly light,
Make the ayre purple with the reaking gore?

_Fre_. Fight, whilst life serves you, we will nere give ore;
The grasse greene pavement shall be drownd in blood,
And yet Ile wade to kill her in the flood.

_Duke_. Alarum, Drum! madnesse is on their side,
All vertuous counsell is by them defied.
Upon our part strike Drums, Trumpets proclaime
Death most assur'd to those that love their shame.

_Alarum, fight lustily, and drive away the Duke;
Fredericke pursues Valentia over the stage and
takes her; a Retreate sounded_.

_Enter at one doore the Duke, Mon., Hatto, and
Alfred, with Drum and Colours.--Enter at the
other doore Fredericke leading Valentia prisoner,
Rinaldo and Alberto with Drum and Colours_.

_Duke_. Why doe traitors sound retreate so soone?

_Fred_. Behold the cause.

_Duke_. _Valentia_ prisoner?

_Fred_. The firebrand of this tumultuous warre,
The originall from whence your subjects bloud
Flowes in abundance on[203] this spatious playn.

_Valen_. And what of all this?

_Fred_. That thy lifes too meane
To satisfie the unworthiest of the Campe
For the effusion of a loyall drop.

_Duke_. Meanes _Fredericke_ then, to kill his fathers heart In faire
_Valentia's_ death?

_Fred_. Not touch your hand,
Other then humble as becomes a sonne;
But she shall suffer for enchanting you.

_Valen_. I am a Dutchesse, set my ransome downe.

_Fred_. A Dutchesse! whence proceeds that borowed name?
Of what continuance? scarcely hath the Sunne
Beheld thy pride a day, but doth decline
Shaming to view a crowned Concubine.

_Duke_. In mine owne honour, _Fredericke_, I command
Thou set a ransome on _Valentia_.

_Fred_. What honor's that? your Dukedomes interest?
Your princely birth? your honerable fame?
All these are blemisht with a strumpets name.

_Mon_. Be not so cruell