Gui. Woman, all over woman![Aside.
The world confesses, madam, Henry's form
Is noble and majestic.
Mar. O you grudge
The extorted praise, and speak him but by halves.
Gui. Priest, Corso, devils! how she carries it!
Mar. I see, my lord, you're come to take your leave;
And were it not to give the court suspicion,
I would oblige you, sir, before you go,
To lead me to the king.
Gui. Death and the devil!
Mar. But since that cannot be, I'll take my leave
Of you, my lord; heaven grant your journey safe!
Farewell, once more. [Offers her hand.] Not stir! does this become you,—
Does your ambition swell into your eyes?—
Jealousy by this light; nay then, proud Guise,
I tell you, you're not worthy of the grace;
But I will carry't, sir, to those that are,
And leave you to the curse of bosom-war.[Exit.
May. Is this the heavenly—
Gui. Devil, devil, as they are all.
'Tis true, at first she caught the heavenly form,
But now ambition sets her on her head,
By hell, I see the cloven mark upon her.
Ha! Grillon here! some new court-trick upon me.
Gril. Sir, I have business for your ear.