ROBERT WINDSOR.
Thanks gentle Lady. Lord Marques, who is she?

LUBECK.
That same is Blanch, daughter to the King.
The substance of the shadow that you saw.

ROBERT WINDSOR.
May this be she, for whom I crost the Seas?
I am ashamed to think I was so fond.
In whom there's nothing that contents my mind:
Ill head, worse featured, uncomely, nothing courtly;
Swart and ill favoured, a Colliers sanguine skin.
I never saw a harder favoured slut.
Love her? for what? I can no whit abide her.

KIND OF DENMARK.
Mariana, I have this day received letters
From Swethia, that lets me understand
Your ransom is collecting there with speed,
And shortly shalbe hither sent to us.

MARIANA.
Not that I find occasion of mislike
My entertainment in your graces court,
But that I long to see my native home--

KING OF DENMARK.
And reason have you, Madam, for the same.
Lord Marques, I commit unto your charge