_Q. Dor._ What, shall I clad me like a country maid? _Nano._ The policy is base, I am afraid. _Q. Dor._ Why, Nano? _Nano._ Ask you why? What, may a queen March forth in homely weed, and be not seen? The rose, although in thorny shrubs she spread, Is still the rose, her beauties wax not dead; And noble minds, although the coat be bare, Are by their semblance known, how great they are. _Sir Bar._ The dwarf saith true. _Q. Dor._ What garments lik'st thou, than? _Nano._ Such as may make you seem a proper man. _Q. Dor._ He makes me blush and smile, though I am sad. _Nano._ The meanest coat for safety is not bad. _Q. Dor._ What, shall I jet[277] in breeches, like a squire? Alas, poor dwarf, thy mistress is unmeet. _Nano._ Tut, go me thus, your cloak before your face, Your sword uprear'd with quaint and comely grace: If any come and question what you be, Say you "A man," and call for witness me. _Q. Dor._ What, should I wear a sword? to what intent? _Nano._ Madam, for show; it is an ornament: If any wrong you, draw: a shining blade Withdraws a coward thief that would invade. _Q. Dor._ But, if I strike, and he should strike again, What should I do? I fear I should be slain. _Nano._ No, take it single on your dagger so: I'll teach you, madam, how to ward a blow. _Q. Dor._ How little shapes much substance may include!-- Sir Bartram, Ross, ye ladies, and my friends, Since presence yields me death, and absence life, Hence will I fly, disguisèd like a squire, As one that seeks to live in Irish wars: You, gentle Ross, shall furnish my depart. _Ross._ Yea, prince, and die with you with all my heart! Vouchsafe me, then, in all extremest states To wait on you and serve you with my best. _Q. Dor._ To me pertains the woe: live then in rest. Friends, fare you well: keep secret my depart: Nano alone shall my attendant be. _Nano._ Then, madam, are you mann'd, I warrant ye! Give me a sword, and, if there grow debate, I'll come behind, and break your enemy's pate. _Ross._ How sore we grieve to part so soon away! _Q. Dor._ Grieve not for those that perish if they stay. _Nano._ The time in words misspent is little worth; Madam, walk on, and let them bring us forth. [_Exeunt._ CHORUS _Enter_ BOHAN. _Boh._ So, these sad motions make the fairy sleep; And sleep he shall in quiet and content: For it would make a marble melt and weep, To see these treasons 'gainst the innocent. But, since she 'scapes by flight to save her life, The king may chance repent she was his wife. The rest is ruthful; yet, to beguile the time, 'Tis interlac'd with merriment and rhyme. [_Exit._ ACT THE FOURTH SCENE I.--_On the King's Preserves._ _After a noise of horns and shoutings, enter certain_ Huntsmen _(if you please, singing) one way; another way_ ATEUKIN _and_ JAQUES.