Pem.  Farewell, kind host.
                   [Exit Forester. 
                            And now let me embrace
This empty Monument of my lost friend. 
Oh! wer’t so happy to enshrine his bones
How blest should Pembrooke be! but they are torne
By the fierce savadge Woolfe whose filthy mawe
Is made an unfit grave to bury him. 
But, if (without offence) I may desire it,
I wish his soule from Paradise may see
How well his name is kept in memorie. 
These eyes that saw him bleed have wept for him,
This heart devisde his harme hath sigh’d for him,
And now this hand, that with ungentle force
Depryv’d his life, shall with repentant service
Make treble satisfaction to his soule. 
Fortune, thou dost me wrong to suffer me
So long uncombatted:  I prythee send
Some stubborne knight, some passenger,
Whose stout controuling stomack will refuse
To yield to my prescription but by force. 
I hate this idle rest of precious time.

    Enter Kathar.

How now? derid’st thou my devotion, goddesse,
Thou sendst a woman to incounter me? 
Henceforth Ile hold thee for a fayned name
And no disposer of my Christian hopes. 
But, soft; I know that face:  oh, I! tis she
Was unjust cause of all my misery.

Kath.  Long have I wandred with unquiet mind
To find my Pembrook.  That they fought, I heare;
That they were wounded both to death, I heare;
But whether cu’rde or dead I cannot heare,
Nor lives there any (if deceasde) can tell
Within what place their bodies are interr’d. 
Since therefore all my travell is in vayne,
Here will I take a truce with former care. 
This cursed nook was that unlucky plot
Where cursed Ferdinand did kill my love. 
What knight is this?  Ile question him:  perhaps
He can resolve me where my Pembrooke is. 
—­Joy and good fortune, sir, attend your state.

Pem.  Your wishes come too late.  What seeke you, Madam?

Kath.  Tell me, sir knight, for so you seeme to be,
Know you this dismall place you do frequent? 
Or have you heard of that unhappy fight
Was here perform’d by Pembrook and his foe?

Pem.  Yes, Madam, I have heard of it long since And to my grief knew both the gentlemen.

Kath.  But can you tell me if they live or no, Or, dead, what hand hath given them buryall?

Pem.  Rest you assured, Madam, they are dead: 
The one of them, to whom I was allyed
And neerely knit in friendship from my youth,
By me lyes buried heere:  a braver knight
And truer Lover never breathd in Fraunce.

Kath.  O tell me, is it Pembrooke? if for him
You have erected this fayre monument,
Perpetuall honour I will do your state.

Pem.  Not only, Madam, have I built this tombe
In his memoriall, but my selfe have sworne
Continuall residence within this wood;
And for the love I bare him weare these armes
That whatsoever knight, adventurer, or other,
Making his journey this way and refusing
To do knights homage to my breathlesse friend,
By this assayling steele may be compeld.