Alberto.  I heare the Duke is strong.

Fred.  Suppose him so,
And be advis’d strongly to meete the foe. 
I had rather, you should think him ten thousand strong
Then find it so to our destruction. 
An enemy thought many and found few,
When our first courage failes, gives us a new.

[Alarum.

Alberto.  That’s the Dukes Drum.

Fred.  They are welcome to their death, The ground they tread on covers them with earth.

[Exeunt.

Enter Fredericke and Duke severall.

Fred.  The enemy sends forth a Champion To encounter me, I heard him use my name; The honour of the combate shall be mine.

Duke.  Come, boy, retreate not, only I intend With thy lifes losse this bloody warre to end.

Fred.  My naturall father in my blood I feele, Passion more powerfull then that conquering steele.

Duke.  Why dost thou pause, base boy? thy Soveraigne’s come, To inter the life I gave thee in this tombe.

Fred.  My father, oh my father! nature, be still That I may have my fame, or he his will.

Duke.  What, dost thou feare thy cause? is’t now so evill?

Fred.  I am possest with a relenting devill; Legions of kinde thoughts have supriz’d my sense And I am too weake to be mine owne defence.

Duke.  Thou art a coward.

Fred.  And you make me so,
For you come charm’d like a dishonest[199] foe. 
You have conferr’d with spirits, and tane their aydes
To make me weake, by them I am betraid,
My strength drawne from me by a slight;
What other meanes could hold me from the fight?

Duke.  I have no spells about me.

Fred.  ’Tis untrue,
For naturall Magique you have brought with you,
And such an exorcisme in your name
That I forbeare the combate to my shame. 
But that I am no coward, from your host
Elect two of the valiantst that dare most;
Double that number, treble it, or more,
I have heart at will t’encounter with a score. 
Or had your selfe come in a strange attire,
One of us twaine had lost his living fire.

    Enter[200] Montano, Alfred, Vandermas, Valentia, and others.

Duke.  Ile trie your valour; see, audacious boy,
Thou art incompast with a world of foes
Montano, Alfred, Vandermas, and all: 
My Dutchesse comes, too, to behold thy fall. 
If thou hast spirit enough, now crave her ayd,
Never was poore ventrous souldier worse apayd.
                                        [Exit Duke.

Fred.  My[201] desire now from the skie of starres.  Dart all your Deitie, since I am beset, In honourable wise pay[202] all Natures debt.

    They fight, Fredericke beats them off and courses
    the Dutchesse over the stage.