_Buss._ Tis our Kings motion, and we shall not seeme To worst eies womanish, though we change thus soone Never so great grudge for his greater pleasure.
_Gui._ I seale to that, and so the manly freedome, That you so much professe, hereafter prove not 115 A bold and glorious licence to deprave, To me his hand shall hold the Hermean vertue His grace affects, in which submissive signe On this his sacred right hand I lay mine.
_Buss._ Tis well, my lord, and so your worthy greatnesse 120 Decline not to the greater insolence, Nor make you think it a prerogative To rack mens freedomes with the ruder wrongs, My hand (stuck full of lawrell, in true signe Tis wholly dedicate to righteous peace) 125 In all submission kisseth th'other side.
_Henr._ Thanks to ye both: and kindly I invite ye Both to a banquet where weele sacrifice Full cups to confirmation of your loves; At which (faire ladies) I entreat your presence; 130 And hope you, madam, will take one carowse For reconcilement of your lord and servant.
_Duchess._ If I should faile, my lord, some other lady Would be found there to doe that for my servant.
_Buss._ Think your thoughts like my mistresse, honour'd lady?
_Tamyra._ I think not on you, sir; y'are one I know not.
_Montsurry._ Oh sir, has she met you? _Exeunt Henry, D'Amb[ois], Ladies._
_Mons._ What had my bounty drunk when it rais'd him?
_Gui._ Y'ave stuck us up a very worthy flag, 140 That takes more winde than we with all our sailes.
_Gui._ He must downe; Upstarts should never perch too neere a crowne.
_Mons._ Tis true, my lord; and as this doting hand Even out of earth (like Juno) struck this giant, 145 So Joves great ordinance shall be here implide To strike him under th'Ætna of his pride. To which work lend your hands, and let us cast Where we may set snares for his ranging greatnes. I think it best, amongst our greatest women: 150 For there is no such trap to catch an upstart As a loose downfall; for, you know, their falls Are th'ends of all mens rising. If great men And wise make scapes to please advantage, Tis with a woman--women that woorst may 155 Still hold mens candels: they direct and know All things amisse in all men, and their women All things amisse in them; through whose charm'd mouthes We may see all the close scapes of the Court. When the most royall beast of chase, the hart, 160 Being old, and cunning in his layres and haunts, Can never be discovered to the bow, The peece, or hound--yet where, behind some queich, He breaks his gall, and rutteth with his hinde, The place is markt, and by his venery 165 He still is taken. Shall we then attempt The chiefest meane to that discovery here, And court our greatest ladies chiefest women With shewes of love, and liberall promises? Tis but our breath. If something given in hand 170 Sharpen their hopes of more, 'twill be well ventur'd.