Ambois hurts him._

_[Enter Renel, the Countess, and] Charlotte above._

_Charlotte._ Death of my father, what a shame is this!
Sticke in his hands thus! _She gets downe._

_Renel [trying to stop her]._ Gentle sir, forbeare!

_Countess._ Is he not slaine yet?

_Ren._ No, madame, but hurt
In divers parts of him.

_Mont._ Y'have given it me,
And yet I feele life for another vennie. 90

_Enter Charlotte [below]._

_Cler._ What would you, sir?

_Char._ I would performe this combat.

_Cler._ Against which of us?

_Char._ I care not much if twere
Against thy selfe; thy sister would have sham'd
To have thy brothers wreake with any man
In single combat sticke so in her fingers. 95

_Cler._ My sister! know you her?

_Tam._ I, sir, shee sent him
With this kinde letter, to performe the wreake
Of my deare servant.

_Cler._ Now, alas! good sir,
Thinke you you could doe more?

_Char._ Alas! I doe;
And wer't not I, fresh, sound, should charge a man 100
Weary and wounded, I would long ere this
Have prov'd what I presume on.

_Cler._ Y'have a minde
Like to my sister, but have patience now;
If next charge speede not, Ile resigne to you.

_Mont._ Pray thee, let him decide it.

_Cler._ No, my lord, 105
I am the man in fate; and since so bravely
Your lordship stands mee, scape but one more charge,
And, on my life, Ile set your life at large.

_Mont._ Said like a D'Ambois, and if now I die,
Sit joy and all good on thy victorie! 110

_Fights, and fals downe._

_Mont._ Farewell! I hartily forgive thee; wife,
And thee; let penitence spend thy rest of life.
_Hee gives his hand to Cler[mont] and his wife._

_Cler._ Noble and Christian!

_Tam._ O, it breakes my heart.

_Cler._ And should; for all faults found in him before
These words, this end, makes full amends and more. 115
Rest, worthy soule; and with it the deare spirit
Of my lov'd brother rest in endlesse peace!
Soft lie thy