_Q. Dor._ What should I do? ah, poor unhappy queen, Born to endure what fortune can contain! Alas, the deed is too apparent now! But, O mine eyes, were you as bent to hide As my poor heart is forward to forgive, Ah cruel king, my love would thee acquit! O, what avails to be allied and match'd With high estates, that marry but in show? Were I baser born, my mean estate Could warrant me from this impendent harm: But to be great and happy, these are twain. Ah, Ross, what shall I do? how shall I work?
_Ross._ With speedy letters to your father send, Who will revenge you and defend your right.
_Q. Dor._ As if they kill not me, who with him fight! As if his breast be touch'd, I am not wounded! As if he wail'd, my joys were not confounded! We are one heart, though rent by hate in twain; One soul, one essence doth our weal contain: What, then, can conquer him, that kills not me?
_Ross._ If this advice displease, then, madam, flee.
_Q. Dor._ Where may I wend or travel without fear?
_Ross._ Where not, in changing this attire you wear?
_Q. Dor._ What, shall I clad me like a country maid?
_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.
_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.