Pol. My lord, you are gracious with the king.
Vir. I thank his majesty, I have his ear before another man.
Pol. Then see no pardon be granted; you may stop anything; I know Euphues will be soliciting for his son.
Vir. I warrant you, my lord, no pardon passes whilst I am there; I'll be a bar betwixt him and the king. But hark! the king approaches.
Enter King, with Attendants.
Ambo. Health to your majesty.
King. Count Virro and Lord Polymetes, welcome:
You have been strangers at the Court of late,
But I can well excuse you, count; you are about a wife,
A young one, and a fair one too, they say.
Get me young soldiers, count: but speak,
When is the day? I mean to be your guest;
You shall not steal a marriage.
Vir. I thank your majesty; but the marriage that I intended is stolen to my hand, and by another.
King. Stolen! how, man?
Vir. My promised wife
Is lately stol'n away by Philocles,
Lord Euphues' son, against her father's will;
Who follow'd 'em, and apprehended them:
The law may right us, sir, if it may have course.