lion, braying all the huger beasts out of the
Pyr. Peace! he looks this way.
Bar. Marrie, let him look, sir; what will you
say now if the Guise be gone to fetch a blanquet
for him?
L'An. Faith, I beleeve it, for his honour sake.210
Pyr. But, if D'Ambois carrie it cleane? Exeunt Ladies.
Bar. True, when he curvets in the blanquet.
Pyr. I, marrie, sir.