_Buss._ I will not. I say, mistresse, and I will
stand unto it, that if a woman may have three
servants, a man may have threescore mistresses.
_Gui._ Sirrha, Ile have you whipt out of the
Court for this insolence.
_Buss._ Whipt! Such another syllable out a
th'presence, if thou dar'st, for thy Dukedome.
_Gui._ Remember, poultron!
_Mons._ Pray thee forbeare!
_Buss._ Passion of death! Were not the King
here, he should strow the chamber like a rush.
_Mons._ But leave courting his wife then.
_Buss._ I wil not: Ile court her in despight of
him. Not court her! Come madam, talk on;
feare me nothing. [_To Guise._] Well mai'st
thou drive thy master from the Court, but never
D'Ambois.
_Mons._ His great heart will not down, tis like the sea,
That partly by his owne internall heat,
Partly the starrs daily and nightly motion,
Their heat and light, and partly of the place
The divers frames, but chiefly by the moone,
Bristled with surges, never will be wonne,
(No, not when th'hearts of all those powers are burst)
To make retreat into his setled home,
Till he be crown'd with his owne quiet fome.
_Henr._ You have the mate. Another?
_Gui._ No more.
_Flourish short._
Exit Guise; after him the King, Mons[ieur] whispering.
_Bar._ Why here's the lion skar'd with the
throat of a dunghill cock, a fellow that has
newly shak'd off his shackles; now does he
crow for that victory.
_L'An._ Tis one of the best jiggs that ever
was acted.
_Pyr._ Whom does the Guise suppose him to
be, troe?
_L'An._ Out of doubt, some new denizond
Lord, and thinks that suit newly drawne out a

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