_Gui._ Where will you find such game as you would hawlk at? 60
_Buss._ Ile hawlk about your house for one of them.
_Gui._ Come, y'are a glorious ruffin and runne proud Of the Kings headlong graces; hold your breath, Or, by that poyson'd vapour, not the King Shall back your murtherous valour against me. 65
_Buss._ I would the King would make his presence free But for one bout betwixt us: by the reverence Due to the sacred space twixt kings and subjects, Here would I make thee cast that popular purple In which thy proud soule sits and braves thy soveraigne. 70
_Mons._ Peace, peace, I pray thee, peace!
_Buss._ Let him peace first That made the first warre.
_Buss._ His greatnesse is the peoples, mine's mine owne. 75
_Buss._ He is not; I am noble, And noblesse in his blood hath no gradation, But in his merit.
_Gui._ Th'art not nobly borne, But bastard to the Cardinall of Ambois.
_Buss._ Thou liest, proud Guiserd; let me flie, my Lord! 80
_Henr._ Not in my face, my eagle! violence flies The sanctuaries of a princes eyes.
_Buss._ Still shall we chide, and fome upon this bit? Is the Guise onely great in faction? Stands he not by himselfe? Proves he th'opinion 85 That mens soules are without them? Be a duke, And lead me to the field.
_Henr._ Stay them! stay, D'Ambois! Cosen Guise, I wonder Your honour'd disposition brooks so ill A man so good that only would uphold 90 Man in his native noblesse, from whose fall All our dissentions rise; that in himselfe (Without the outward patches of our frailty, Riches and honour) knowes he comprehends Worth with the greatest. Kings had never borne 95 Such boundlesse empire over other men, Had all maintain'd the spirit and state of D'Ambois; Nor had the full impartiall hand of Nature, That all things gave in her originall Without these definite terms of Mine and Thine, 100 Beene turn'd unjustly to the hand of Fortune, Had all preserv'd her in her prime like D'Ambois; No envie, no disjunction had dissolv'd, Or pluck'd one stick out of the golden faggot In which the world of Saturne bound our lifes, 105 Had all beene held together with the nerves, The genius, and th'ingenious soule of D'Ambois. Let my hand therefore be the Hermean rod To part and reconcile, and so conserve you, As my combin'd embracers and supporters. 110