Count. Peace Ida, heere are straungers neare at hand.
Eust. Madame God speed. 760
Count. I thanke you gentle squire.
Eust. The countrie Countesse of Northumberland,
Doth greete you well, and hath requested mee,
To bring these letters to your Ladiship.
He carries the letter.
Count. I thanke her honour, and your selfe my friend.
Shee receiues and peruseth them.
Ida. As much salute as may become my sex,
And hee in vertue can vouchsafe to thinke,
I yeeld him for the courteous Countesse sake.
Good sir sit downe, my mother heere and I,
Count time mispent, an endlesse vanitie.
Eust. Beyond report, the wit, the faire, the shape,
What worke you heere, faire Mistresse may I see it?
Id. Good Sir looke on, how like you this compact?