[_Exit_.

[SCENE 2.]

_Enter at one dore_ Philip _and_ Roderick, _a drummer
before them with his Drum at his back: at the other
dore_ Ferdinand _and_ Pembrooke _with their Drummes_.

_Ferd_. Whither goes royall _Philip_ thus prepard?

_Phil_. On what adventure goes Prince _Ferdinand_?

_Ferd_. To conquer all the world, fayre _Katharine_,
Whose beauty in mine eye surmounts it far.
Vertue and love conducts me to your sister.

_Phil_. On the like voyage are my fortunes bound,
I goe to winne thy sister.

_Ferd_. Some fayre Starre
On our great hopes shine fayre and debonaire.

_Pem_. Amen, sayth _Pembroke_.

_Rod_. Amen, sayth _Rodoricke_,

_Ferd_. This way my Love dwels.

_Phil_. In this ayre breathes mine.

_Both_. Farewell.

_Phil_. Prince _Ferdinand_ if these cross loves
Enjoy a wisht success, peace here shall dwell.

_Ferd_. And we be friendly Brothers.

_Phil_. True.

_Ferd_. Farewell.

[_Exeunt Philip and Rodoricke_.

_Pem_. Pity such true love, which like blessed seed
Sowne in such fertile soyle his princely brest,
By the rough stormy brow and winters hate
Of adverse parents should be timelesse nipt
And dye e're it attayne maturity.
For I have heard the Princesse whom he serves
Is hotely courted by the Duke of Burbon,
Who to effect his choyce hath in these warres
Furnisht your father with a gallant power;
His love may haply then disable _Philip_.

_Fer_. O no; my father doth affect the Prince:
Besides, my sister's heart is so combin'd
To his in perfect love that _Burbon's_ hate
Nor all the world that knot can separate.
Then sorrow not for him, but turne the streame
Of gentle pity on thy wretched friend
Within whose bosome love hath kindled fire
So ardent that the flames will bury me.
_Philip_ is throned in my sister's eyes,
But in my love disdayne and hatred lyes.

_Pem_. Doth she not pay true kindnesse with the like?

_Fer_. As stepdames orphanes, night the cleer-fac't day,
So doth she hate me and returne my woes
Like a steeld Anvil backward on my selfe.
She is all hate, yet such a lovely foe
That I must kisse the sword that wounds me so.

_Pem_. Interre these thoughts, this is her fathers tent:
Drum, give a friendly summons to the king.

_Fer_. Forbeare a while (deare _Pembroke_): by our vowes
Which in the booke of heaven are registered,
By all the rightes of friendship, by that love
Thou bear's