_Count. of A._ It was of duty, prince, that I have done; And what in favour may content me most, Is, that it please your grace to give me leave For to return unto my country-home. _K. of Scots._ But, lovely Ida, is your mind the same? _Ida._ I count of court, my lord, as wise men do, 'Tis fit for those that know what 'longs thereto: Each person to his place; the wise to art, The cobbler to his clout, the swain to cart. _K. of Scots._ But, Ida, you are fair, and beauty shines, And seemeth best, where pomp her pride refines. _Ida._ If beauty, as I know there's none in me, Were sworn my love, and I his life should be, The farther from the court I were remov'd, The more, I think, of heaven I were belov'd. _K. of Scots._ And why? _Ida._ Because the court is counted Venus' net, Where gifts and vows for stales[250] are often set: None, be she chaste as Vesta, but shall meet A curious tongue to charm her ears with sweet. _K. of Scots._ Why, Ida, then I see you set at naught The force of love. _Ida._ In sooth, this is my thought, Most gracious king,--that they that little prove, Are mickle blest, from bitter sweets of love. And weel I wot, I heard a shepherd sing, That, like a bee, love hath a little sting: He lurks in flowers, he percheth on the trees, He on kings' pillows bends his pretty knees; The boy is blind, but when he will not spy, He hath a leaden foot and wings to fly: Beshrew me yet, for all these strange effects, If I would like the lad that so infects. _K. of Scots._ [_aside_]. Rare wit, fair face, what heart could more desire? But Doll is fair and doth concern thee near: Let Doll be fair, she is won; but I must woo And win fair Ida; there's some choice in two.-- But, Ida, thou art coy. _Ida._ And why, dread king? _K. of Scots._ In that you will dispraise so sweet a thing As love. Had I my wish-- _Ida._ What then? _K. of Scots._ Then would I place His arrow here, his beauty in that face. _Ida._ And were Apollo mov'd and rul'd by me, His wisdom should be yours, and mine his tree. _K. of Scots._ But here returns our train. _Re-enter_ QUEEN DOROTHEA _and_ Lords. Welcome, fair Doll! How fares our father? is he shipp'd and gone? _Q. Dor._ My royal father is both shipp'd and gone: God and fair winds direct him to his home!