K. of Scots. But here returnes our traine.
Welcome faire Doll: how fares our father, is he shipt and gone.

Enters the traine backe.

Dor. My royall father is both shipt and gone,
God and faire winds direct him to his home.

K. of Sc. Amen say I, wold thou wert with him too: 270
Then might I haue a fitter time to woo.
But Countesse you would be gone, therfore farwell
Yet Ida if thou wilt, stay thou behind,
To accompany my Queene.
But if thou like the pleasures of the Court,
Or if she likte me tho she left the Court,
What should I say? I know not what to say,
You may depart, and you my curteous Queene,
Leaue me a space, I haue a waightie cause to thinke vpon:

Id., it nips me neere: 280
It came from thence, I feele it burning heere.

Exeunt all sauing the King and Ateukin.

K. of Scot. Now am I free from sight of commõ eie,
Where to my selfe I may disclose the griefe
That hath too great a part in mine affects.

Ateu. And now is my time, by wiles & words to rise,
Greater then those, that thinks themselues more wise.

K. of Scots. And first fond King, thy honor doth engraue,
Vpon thy browes, the drift of thy disgrace:
Thy new vowd loue in sight of God and men, 290
Linke thee to Dorithea, during life.
For who more faire and vertuous then thy wife,
Deceitfull murtherer of a quiet minde,
Fond loue, vile lust, that thus misleads vs men,
To vowe our faithes, and fall to sin againe.
But Kings stoupe not to euery common thought,
Ida is faire and wise, fit for a King:
And for faire Ida will I hazard life,
Venture my Kingdome, Country, and my Crowne:
Such fire hath loue, to burne a kingdome downe. 300
Say Doll dislikes, that I estrange my loue,
Am I obedient to a womans looke?
Nay say her father frowne when he shall heare
That I do hold faire Idaes loue so deare:
Let father frowne and fret, and fret and die,
Nor earth, nor heauen shall part my loue and I.
Yea they shall part vs, but we first must meet,
And wo, and win, and yet the world not seet.
Yea ther’s the wound, & wounded with that thoght
So let me die: for all my drift is naught. 310

Ateu. Most gratious and imperiall Maiestie,