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,180
(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.