[SCENE 1.]

_Enter [at one door] Duke, Montano, Valentia, Hatto, and Alfred.

Drumme, Colours, and Souldiers. [At another door enter Frederick, Rinaldo, Alberto, with soldiers_.]

Duke. Our anger long agoe, renowned Lords, Is satisfied in faire Valentias love. Behold our proud sonne and these traiterous crew That dares confront us in the field of Mars.

Valen. You have been too patient, my beloved Lord, In calming these tumultuous jarring spirits. Scourge them with steele, and make the proudest know Tis more then death to have their Prince their foe.

Mon. Bloody constraints beseemes where dutie failes, And, oratory ceasing, force prevailes.

Hat. Peace would doe better, so it pleas'd your sonne.

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 to bereave her life 'Twill draw upon thee a perpetuall scar,— Thy fathers curse, and a continuall warre.

Duke. Oh doe not threaten; Fredericke is so mild He will not prove such a degenerate child. I cannot blame him tho' hee rise in armes: 'Twas not in hate to me, but in disdaine That I should sell my royaltie so vaine; But did he know the value of the jem, Hee would not crase[204] it for a Dyadem. That shee was common her owne words approve, But many faults are cover'd where men love. As thou respects my blessing and good dayes, Restore her, Fredericke, and augment her prayse.

Fred. Restore her?

Albert. Never.

Duke. Albert, thou wert kind And I ne're wrong'd thee; doe not change thy minde.

Hat. You doe abase your honour to intreate.

Duke. How can I choose? my affection is so great.

Alfred. Your power is strong, the enemy is but weake.

Duke. In her destruction all my powers will breake. As thou dost hope of kindnesse in thy choyse If ere thou love, give eare unto my voice; Turne not aside thy eye, the feares I feele Makes me to bow, where tis thy part to kneele. Loe vassailelike, laying aside command, I humbly crave this favour at thy hand: Let me have my beloved, and take my state; My life I undervalue to that rate. Crave anything that in my power doth lye, Tis thine, so faire Valentia may not dye.

Fred. My soule is griev'd, and it appals my blood To see my father pusseld in such mood. Yet shall shee dye, Ile doe as I have said; With mine hand Ile chop off the Strumpets head.

Alberto. Kill her, my Lord, or let me have the honour.

Duke. Tigers would save her, if they lookt upon her; Shee is so beautifull, so heavenly bright, That she would make them love her for the sight. Thou art more rude then such if thou proceede In the execution of so vilde a deede. Remember one thing, I did never love Till thou, my Fredericke, broughtst that fatall Glove. That and the Owners name thou didst descry; Onely for that cause, let not my love dye.

Fred. O gods!

Duke. Cannot my kneeling serve, my teares prevaile, When all helpes faile mee, yet this will not faile: Proffer thy weapon to her beautious side, And with her heart my heart I will divide. Intreaty Ile urge none more then are past, And either now relent or heres my last.

Fred. Stay: if I should relent, will you agree To sign our general pardon presently?

Duke. By heaven I doe, I freely pardon all And a reward I give in generall.

Fred. Then take her, you deserve her were shee better, Making your Crown and life to be her Debter.

Duke. Welcome a thousand times, welcome, sweete wife, Never more deare then now I have saved[205] thy life.

Valen. This more then kindnesse I turne backe to you, Doubling my chast vow to bee ever true.

Fred. Then here the warres end, here[206] our fightings marde, Yet by your leave Ile stand upon my Guard.

Duke. Take any course you please, Citie or Towne, My royall word Ile keepe by this my Crowne.

Fred. Then thus Ile take my leave.

Duke. Since we must part, Farewell, my Sonne, all farewell with my heart.

[Exeunt Fred, and his [sic].

Mon. Twas well, my Lord, 'twas a good policie, To gaine your bride: I hope your grace did not meane To be thus overrulde, by a proud Sonne.

Duke. Why, thinke you he intends some treachery?

Mon. Why not? and did release Valentia To blind your eyes. Hee that could be so proud, To rise in armes against his naturall Father, Hath courage to doe more when he sees time.

Duke. But I have pardon'd that offence by oath.

Mon. It were no periury to make him know Hee is your Sonne, and sonnes a dutie owe. This sequestration will in time aspire Unto a flame shall set your Realme on fire; For[207] when a Subject hath the meanes of will, 'Tis not enough, to say he has no will; For will is alter'd by the place and time And hee that's once up knowes the way to clime. I speake perchance like a prophetique foole, But these are wise can counsaile with your bride; Wisedome adviseth timely to provide.

Duke. What thinkes my love of Frederickes reconcilment?

Valen. That he has spirit enough, to be a traytor. But I am beholding to him for a life And he may brag he gave your grace a wife. A [O?] good old man, he could not choose but feele For shame some small remorse to see you kneele. Pray God he gave me not into your hand That he might be the ruine of your land.

Duke. Thinkes my love so? but, brothers, what's your censure?

Hat. I am no Polititian.

Alfred. Neither I: Wee are both content to live quietly.

Duke. Hee may be a villaine tho' he be my Sonne.

Mon. Why not? and worke your ruine like a foe. Had he meant well, why did he leave you so? Your noble heart was free from all deceipt, But hee's retirde to doe some dangerous feate. When Subjects stand upon their guard, looke to't, They have some plot in hand, and they will do't.

Duke. What course is readiest to prevent such mischiefe?

Mon. Plucke up the fulsome thistle in the prime: Young trees bend lightly, but grow strong in time. Were I the worthiest to advise your honour, You should pursue him with your spredding bandes Swifter in march then is the lightning flame, And take him tardy whilst his plots are tame. Now to charge on his army, questionlesse Would drive them all into a great distresse, If not confound them; having tane your Sonne, You may be as kind, and doe as hee hath done; So shall he know himself and be lesse proud.

Valen. The counsailes good.

Duke. And it shall be allowed. You that doe love me, see the host prepar'd To scare those traytors that our liues have scarde. Our armie's many, but their power is few:[208] Besides, they are traytors, all with us are true. Sound Drums and trumpets, make the world rebound; Hearten our friends, and all our foes confound. [Alarum.

[Exeunt.