The same. MORTIMER enters, and without paying attention
to the QUEEN, addresses PAULET.

MORTIMER.
Uncle, you're sought for.

[He retires in the same manner. The QUEEN remarks it, and
turns towards PAULET, who is about to follow him.

MARY.
Sir, one favor more
If you have aught to say to me—from you
I can bear much—I reverence your gray hairs;
But cannot bear that young man's insolence;
Spare me in future his unmannered rudeness.

PAULET.
I prize him most for that which makes you hate him
He is not, truly, one of those poor fools
Who melt before a woman's treacherous tears.
He has seen much—has been to Rheims and Paris,
And brings us back his true old English heart.
Lady, your cunning arts are lost on him.

[Exit.