250After the French embassador my liege,

251And tell him that you dare not ride to Yorke,

252Excuse it that your bonnie horse is lame.

253K. He heard that to, intollerable griefe:

254Woman farewell although I do not stay. Exunt Scots.

255Count: Tis not for feare, and yet you run away,

256O happie comfort welcome to our house,

257The confident and boystrous boasting Scot,

258That swore before my walls they would not backe,

259For all the armed power of this land,

260With facelesse feare that euer turnes his backe:

261Turnd hence againe the blasting North-east winde:

262Vpon the bare report and name of Armes.

264Mo: O Sommers day, see where my Cosin comes:

265How fares my Aunt? we are not Scots,

266Why do you shut your gates against your friends?

267Co: Well may I giue a welcome Cosin to thee:

268For thou comst well to chase my foes from hence.

269Mo: The king himselfe is come in person hither:

270Deare Aunt discend and gratulate his highnes.

271Co: How may I entertayne his Maiestie,

272To shew my duety, and his dignitie.

274K. Ed: What are the stealing Foxes fled and gone

275Before we could vncupple at their heeles.

276War: They are my liege, but with a cheereful cry,

277Hot hunds and hardie chase them at the heeles.

279K. Ed: This is the Countesse Warwike, is it not.

280War: Euen shee liege, whose beauty tyrants feare,

281As a May blossome with pernitious winds,

282Hath sullied, withered ouercast and donne.

283K. Ed: Hath she been fairer Warwike then she is?

284War: My gratious King, faire is she not at all,

285If that her selfe were by to staine herselfe,