_K. of Scots._ In that you will dispraise so sweet A thing, as loue, had I my wish. _Ida._ What then? 260 _K. of Scots._ Then would I place his arrow here, His bewtie in that face. _Ida._ And were _Apollo_ moued and rulde by me, His wisedome should be yours, and mine his tree. _K. of Scots._ But here returnes our traine. Welcome faire _Doll_: how fares our father, is he shipt and gone. _Enters the traine backe._ _Dor._ My royall father is both shipt and gone, God and faire winds direct him to his home. _K. of Sc._ Amen say I, wold thou wert with him too: 270 Then might I haue a fitter time to woo. But Countesse you would be gone, therfore farwell Yet _Ida_ if thou wilt, stay thou behind, To accompany my Queene. But if thou like the pleasures of the Court, Or if she likte me tho she left the Court, What should I say? I know not what to say, You may depart, and you my curteous Queene, Leaue me a space, I haue a waightie cause to thinke vpon: _Ida_, it nips me neere: 280 It came from thence, I feele it burning heere. _Exeunt all sauing the King and ~Ateukin~._ _K. of Scot._ Now am I free from sight of commṏ eie, Where to my selfe I may disclose the griefe That hath too great a part in mine affects. _Ateu._ And now is my time, by wiles & words to rise, Greater then those, that thinks themselues more wise. _K. of Scots._ And first fond King, thy honor doth engraue, Vpon thy browes, the drift of thy disgrace: Thy new vowd loue in sight of God and men, 290 Linke thee to _Dorithea_, during life. For who more faire and vertuous then thy wife, Deceitfull murtherer of a quiet minde, Fond loue, vile lust, that thus misleads vs men, To vowe our faithes, and fall to sin againe. But Kings stoupe not to euery common thought, _Ida_ is faire and wise, fit for a King: And for faire _Ida_ will I hazard life, Venture my Kingdome, Country, and my Crowne: Such fire hath loue, to burne a kingdome downe. 300 Say _Doll_ dislikes, that I estrange my loue, Am I obedient to a womans looke? Nay say her father frowne when he shall heare That I do hold faire _Idaes_ loue so deare: Let father frowne and fret, and fret and die, Nor earth, nor heauen shall part my loue and I. Yea they shall part vs, but we first must meet, And wo, and win, and yet the world not seet. Yea ther’s the wound, & wounded with that thoght So let me die: for all my drift is naught. 310 _Ateu._ Most gratious and imperiall Maiestie, _K. of S._ A little flattery more were but too much, Villaine what art thou that thus darest interrupt a Princes secrets. _Ateu._ Dread King, thy vassall is a man of Art, Who knowes by constellation of the stars, By oppositions and by drie aspects, The things are past, and those that are to come. _K. of S._ But where’s thy warrant to approach my presence?