--
Mend me this curl.
_Gui._ Woman! [_Aside._
_Mar._ You see, my lord,
I have my followers, like you. I swear,
The court's a heavenly place; but--O, my heart!
I know not why that sigh should come uncalled;
Perhaps, 'twas for your going; yet I swear,
I never was so moved, O Guise, as now,
Just as you entered, when from yonder window
I saw the king.
_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.
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