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