Dor. What should I do, ah poore vnhappy Queen?
Borne to indure what fortune can containe,
Ah lasse the deed is too apparant now:
But oh mine eyes were you as bent to hide,
As my poore heart is forward to forgiue. 1470
Ah cruell king, my loue would thee acquite,
Oh what auailes to be allied and matcht
With high estates that marry but in shewe?
Were I baser borne, my meane estate
Could warrant me from this impendent harme,
But to be great and happie these are twaine.
Ah Rosse what shall I do, how shall I worke?
Rosse. With speedie letters to your father send,
Who will reuenge you, and defend your right.
Dor. As if they kill not me, who with him fight? 1480
As if his brest be toucht, I am not wounded,
As if he waild, my ioyes were not confounded:
We are one heart, tho rent by hate in twaine:
One soule, one essence doth our weale containe:
What then can conquer him that kils not me?
Rosse. If this aduice displease, then Madame flee.
Dor. Where may I wend or trauel without feare?
Na. Where not, in changing this attire you weare?
Dor. What shall I clad me like a Country maide?
Na. The pollicie is base I am affraide. 1490
Dor. Why Nano?
Na. Aske you why? what may a Queene
March foorth in homely weede and be not seene?
The Rose although in thornie shrubs she spread:
Is still the Rose, her beauties waxe not dead.
And noble mindes altho the coate be bare,
Are by their semblance knowne, how great they are