_Henr._ Here's nought but whispering with us; like a calme Before a tempest, when the silent ayre 110 Layes her soft eare close to the earth to hearken For that she feares steales on to ravish her; Some fate doth joyne our eares to heare it comming. Come, my brave eagle, let's to covert flie! I see almighty Æther in the smoak 115 Of all his clowds descending, and the skie Hid in the dim ostents of tragedy. _Exit Henr[y] with D'Amb[ois] & Ladies._ _Guis._ Now stirre the humour, and begin the brawle. _Mont._ The King and D'Ambois now are growne all one. _Mons._ Nay, they are two, my lord. _Mont._ How's that? _Mons._ No more. 120 _Mont._ I must have more, my lord. _Mons._ What, more than two? _Mont._ How monstrous is this! _Mons._ Why? _Mont._ You make me horns. _Mons._ Not I, it is a work without my power, Married mens ensignes are not made with fingers; Of divine fabrique they are, not mens hands: 125 Your wife, you know, is a meere Cynthia, And she must fashion hornes out of her nature. _Mont._ But doth she? dare you charge her? speak, false prince. _Mons._ I must not speak, my lord; but if you'l use The learning of a noble man, and read, 130 Here's something to those points. Soft, you must pawne Your honour, having read it, to return it. _Enter Tamira, Pero._ _Mont._ Not I:--I pawne mine honour for a paper! _Mons._ You must not buy it under. _Exeunt Guise and Monsieur._ _Mont._ Keepe it then, And keepe fire in your bosome! _Tam._ What sayes he? 135 _Mont._ You must make good the rest. _Tam._ How fares my lord? Takes my love any thing to heart he sayes? _Mont._ Come, y'are a-- _Tam._ What, my lord? _Mont._ The plague of Herod Feast in his rotten entrailes! _Tam._ Will you wreak Your angers just cause given by him on me? 140 _Mont._ By him? _Tam._ By him, my lord. I have admir'd You could all this time be at concord with him, That still hath plaid such discords on your honour. _Mont._ Perhaps tis with some proud string of my wives. _Tam._ How's that, my lord? _Mont._ Your tongue will still admire, 145 Till my head be the miracle of the world. _Tam._ O woe is me! _She seemes to sound._