FIRST SOLDIER.
Resign thy title, cative, unto me,
Or with my sword I'll pierce thy coward's loins.

SECOND SOLDIER.
Soft words, good sir, tis not enough to speak;
A barking dog doth seldom strangers bite.

LOCRINE.
Unreverent villains, strive you in our sight?
Take them hence, Jailor, to the dungeon;
There let them lie and try their quarrel out.
But thou, fair princess, be no whit dismayed,
But rather joy that Locrine favours thee.

ESTRILD.
How can he favor me that slew my spouse?

LOCRINE.
The chance of war, my love, took him from thee.

ESTRILD.
But Locrine was the causer of his death.

LOCRINE.
He was an enemy to Locrine's state,
And slew my noble brother Albanact.

ESTRILD.