_Fred_. Woe and destruction then must rule the land.
Come, Lord _Rinaldo_, valiant _Alberto_, come;
We have friends enough to grace a warlike Drum. [_A shout within_.
Hearke how the Commons doe applaud our cause.
Lascivious Duke, farewell, father, oh vilde!
Where Queanes are mothers, _Fredericke_ is no child.
[_Exeunt_.
_Duke_. My guard pursue them, and alive or dead
Cut off the cause by which these cries are bred.
Come, my faire Dutchesse; first unto the Church,
There sollemnize our nuptials; then unto our armes:
A little rough breath overbeares these stormes.
[_Exeunt. Manet Alfred & Hatto_.
_Alfred_. The Duke's besotted. Now we are secure;
This match makes well for us; we may command
And on them lay the abuses of the land.
_Hat_. Excellent good; we are like to have warres indeed,
But in the meane the poore will starve for bread.
Wee must share proffits, howsoere things goe.
Winner or looser, neither is our foe;
For mutually we'll beare our selues in all
Or taking part leane to the strongest wall.
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