_Q. Dor._ Danger and fear withdraw me from delight.
_Nano._ 'Tis virtue to contemn false fortune's spite.
_Q. Dor._ What should I do to please thee, friendly squire?
_Nano._ A smile a-day is all I will require; And, if you pay me well the smiles you owe me, I'll kill this cursèd care, or else beshrow me.
_Q. Dor._ We are descried; O, Nano, we are dead!
_Nano._ Tut, yet you walk, you are not dead indeed. Draw me your sword, if he your way withstand, And I will seek for rescue out of hand.
_Q. Dor._ Run, Nano, run, prevent thy princess' death.
_Nano._ Fear not, I'll run all danger out of breath. [_Exit._
_Jaq._ Ah, you _calletta_! you _strumpetta! Maitressa Doretie, êtes vous surprise?_ Come, say your paternoster, _car vous êtes morte, par ma foi_.
_Q. Dor._ Callet! me strumpet! Caitiff as thou art! But even a princess born, who scorns thy threats: Shall never Frenchman say an England maid Of threats of foreign force will be afraid.
_Jaq._ You no _dire votres prières? morbleu, mechante femme_, guarda your breasta there: me make you die on my Morglay.[287]
_Q. Dor._ God shield me, helpless princess and a wife, And save my soul, although I lose my life! [_They fight, and she is sore wounded._ Ah, I am slain! some piteous power repay This murderer's cursèd deed, that doth me slay!
_Jaq. Elle est tout morte._ Me will run _pour_ a wager, for fear me be _surpris_ and _pendu_ for my labour. _Bien, je m'en allerai au roi lui dire mes affaires. Je serai un chevalier_ for this day's travail. [_Exit._
[_Re-enter_ NANO, _with_ SIR CUTHBERT ANDERSON, _his sword drawn, and_ Servants.
_Sir Cuth._ Where is this poor distressèd gentleman?
_Nano._ Here laid on ground, and wounded to the death. Ah, gentle heart, how are these beauteous looks Dimm'd by the tyrant cruelties of death! O weary soul, break thou from forth my breast, And join thee with the soul I honour'd most!
_Sir Cuth._ Leave mourning, friend, the man is yet alive. Some help me to convey him to my house: There will I see him carefully recur'd, And send privy search to catch the murderer.
_Nano._ The God of heaven reward thee, courteous knight! [_Exeunt, bearing out_ QUEEN DOROTHEA.
_Enter the_ KING OF SCOTS, JAQUES, ATEUKIN, ANDREW; JAQUES _running with his sword one way, the_ King _with his_ train _another way._