Bel.  For Philips sake I have been martyrd thus,
And for his sake left King and Courtly life
To entertayne a Pilgrims payneful habit. 
But on what strange adventure stayes this Knight
Within this desolate forsaken wood?

Kath.  For love of Ferdinand your princely brother Whose hearse he gards in honorable Armes.

Bel.  Is this my brothers Hearse; is this the place
Where I was shipwrackt of a brothers name? 
Oh let me spend a loving sigh for him
And sacrifice a sisters holy rites. 
For ever rest, sweet Ferdinand, in peace
Untill thy body glorified from heaven
Become immortal by thy soules returne.

Pem.  Poore Bellamira, how I pity thee, Yet must forbeare to comfort thy distresse.

Clow.  Is my yong Lord buried here?  I say no more, but I pray God send him a joyful insurrection.

Kat.  Inough, sweet Bellamira. 
These leprous spots tis time they were remov’d. 
Come, goe with me:  since I left Aquitayne
And came acquaynted with these private walks,
It was my happy chance to meet an Hermit
Whose skill in Phisike warrants present cure
And pure refining of your poysoned bloud. 
Ile bring you thither:  afterward select
Delicious sweets to decke your brothers tombe. 
Come, sirra, follow us.
          
                           [Exeunt.

Clow.  Doe not think, Madam, that Ile forsake you.  And so, sir, you that walk in pewter vessayle, like one of the worthyes, will you be rul’d by me?

Pem.  Wherein?

Clow.  To set a gyn for Woodcocks & catch your selfe first.
          
                                           [Exit.

Pem.  Hence, beetle-head.  And, Pembrook, now bethink
How great a tyde of miseries breakes in. 
First, thou art taxed with the losse of him
Whom equall with thy selfe thou holdest Deare;
Next, Bellamira is become a Leper,
Whose absence Philip carefully laments;
Then trecherous Burbon joynes himselfe with Fraunce
And both the Kings are angerly incenst;
But last, which is some comfort to the rest,
Disdaynfull Katharine wastes with fruiteless love: 
Would all so minded like mishap might prove. 
But by this signall there are knights at hand: 
I must provide their valours to withstand.

    Enter Fraunce, Burbon, Rodoricke, Peter de Lions, at
    one dore; at the other Navar, Flaunders, Dicke
    Bowyer and Souldiers:  Pembrooke betweene them.

Pem.  Stay your intended march.

Lew.  What Peere of France
Or in the world, so haughty-resolute,
Dare breathe the word of “stay” to mighty Fraunce?

Nav.  Or what art thou presum’st to stay my course?

Pem.  A knight I am and to adventures bound: 
This monument erected for my friend
By me is garded.  If you meane to passe,
You must do homage or else fight with me.