Nav.  Saint Denis for Navar!  Alarum, Drums!

    Alarum:  they fight, Fraunce put to the worst; enter Rodorike
    and Peter; the fight continued, and Navar driven in.

Lew.  Navar and his weake forces make retire; Pursue them, Sirs, the victorie is ours.

Rod.  Be like starv’d Lions ’mongst a heard of Beasts, Ruthelesse and bloudy; slaughter[149] all you meete Till proud Navar be slayn or kisse your feet.  Saint Denis! and cry murder through the host!

    Alarum.  Enter Pembrooke, Ferdinand and Philip.

Pem.  He that steps forward with a murdring thought, Marries him selfe to death.  Fraunce, cease the fight:  They are Frenchmen you pursue, Frenchmen you should save:  Dig not for Traytors love your subjects graves.

Lew.  What franticke knights are those that dare oppose Their single force against our multitudes?

Phil.  Those that wish you and Fraunce bright fames encrease, So you would chase hence war and welcome peace.

Rod.  That was the Traytor that slew royall Burbon.

Pet.  Downe with the villaynes.

Rod.  Souldiers, seyze on him And then pursue Navar with sudden death.

Ferd.  Ere the least hayre fall from his kingly head, Rodorick, thy base trunck shall be butchered.

Pem.  Will you accept of peace?

Lew.  Follow Navar!

Pet.  Downe with that murderer!

Fer.  Zounds, then, in spight Weele save Navar and chase you hence in fight.

All.  Ha, ha!

Pem.  Nay, smile not; though our number’s few Our great hearts tell us we shall conquere you.  Alarum and S. George!

    Alarum:  they fight.  Enter Navar and his forces,
    Fraunce chaste away.

Nav.  Fraunce and his daunted forces gives us ground.  Charge, charge agayne, and we are Conquerours.

Phil.  Stand or ne’re stirre agayne.

Nav.  What meane these knights?

Pem.  To stop your passage this way, great Navar. 
I charge thee by the duty of a king,
Thy love to Justice and thy subjects lives,
You sound retreat and make a peace with Fraunce.

Nav.  A peace! and have the vantage of the day!

Bow.  That’s a tricke by Jesu to mocke an Ape:  wee’le none of that.

Nav.  Wee’le have no peace but what our swords can make.  Follow the chase.

Phil.  Are you growne insolent?  For one light puffe of fortune proves it so?  Nay, then our swords turn to your overthrow.

    Alarum:  they fight and drive in Navar.

Fer.  That was my father that you fought against.

Phil.  You did as much to mine.