uld 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.

_Mons._ He's the better man.

_Buss._ And, therefore, may doe worst?

_Mons._ He has more titles.

_Buss._ So Hydra had more heads.

_Mons._ He's greater knowne.

_Buss._ His greatnesse is the peoples, mine's mine owne. 75

_Mons._ He's noblier borne.

_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.

_Guis._ Come, follow me.

_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 supp