_Buss._ My lord! _Gui._ I know not you; whom doe you serve? _Buss._ Serve, my lord! _Gui._ Go to companion; your courtship's too saucie. 120 _Buss._ Saucie! Companion! tis the Guise, but yet those termes might have beene spar'd of the guiserd. Companion! He's jealous, by this light. Are you blind of that side, Duke? Ile to her againe for that. Forth, princely mistresse, 125 for the honour of courtship. Another riddle. _Gui._ Cease your courtshippe, or, by heaven, Ile cut your throat. _Buss._ Cut my throat? cut a whetstone, young Accius Noevius! Doe as much with your 130 tongue as he did with a rasor. Cut my throat! _Barrisor._ What new-come gallant have wee heere, that dares mate the Guise thus? _L'Anou._ Sfoot, tis D'Ambois! the Duke mistakes him (on my life) for some Knight of the 135 new edition. _Buss._ Cut my throat! I would the King fear'd thy cutting of his throat no more than I feare thy cutting of mine. _Gui._ Ile doe't, by this hand. 140 _Buss._ That hand dares not doe't; y'ave cut too many throats already, Guise, and robb'd the realme of many thousand soules, more precious than thine owne. Come, madam, talk on. Sfoot, can you not talk? Talk on, I say. Another 145 riddle. _Pyrhot._ Here's some strange distemper. _Bar._ Here's a sudden transmigration with D'Ambois, out of the Knights ward into the Duches bed. 150 _L'An._ See what a metamorphosis a brave suit can work. _Pyr._ Slight! step to the Guise, and discover him. _Bar._ By no meanes; let the new suit work; 155 wee'll see the issue. _Gui._ Leave your courting. _Buss._ I will not. I say, mistresse, and I will stand unto it, that if a woman may have three servants, a man may have threescore mistresses. 160 _Gui._ Sirrha, Ile have you whipt out of the Court for this insolence. _Buss._ Whipt! Such another syllable out a th'presence, if thou dar'st, for thy Dukedome. _Gui._ Remember, poultron! 165 _Mons._ Pray thee forbeare! _Buss._ Passion of death! Were not the King here, he should strow the chamber like a rush. _Mons._ But leave courting his wife then. _Buss._ I wil not: Ile court her in despight of 170 him. Not court her! Come madam, talk on; feare me nothing. [_To Guise._] Well mai'st thou drive thy master from the Court, but never D'Ambois.