KING DAVID.
She mocks at us, Douglas; I cannot endure it.

COUNTESS.
Say, good my Lord, which is he must have the Lady,
And which her jewels? I am sure, my Lords,
Ye will not hence, till you have shared the spoils.

KING DAVID.
She heard the messenger, and heard our talk;
And now that comfort makes her scorn at us.

[Another messenger.]


MESSENGER.
Arm, my good Lord! O, we are all surprised!

COUNTESS.
After the French ambassador, my liege,
And tell him, that you dare not ride to York;
Excuse it that your bonny horse is lame.

KING DAVID.
She heard that too; intolerable grief!
Woman, farewell! Although I do not stay...

[Exeunt Scots.]