Gui. O gracious Harry, let me sound thy name, Lest this old rust of war, this knotty trifler, Should raise me to extremes.

Gril. If thou’rt a man, That didst refuse the challenge of Navarre, Come forth[10].

Gui. Go on; since thou’rt resolved on death, I’ll follow thee, and rid thy shaking soul.

  Enter King, Queen-Mother, ALPHONSO, Abbot, &c.

But see, the king:  I scorn to ruin thee,
Therefore go tell him, tell him thy own story.

King. Ha, colonel, is this your friendly visit?  Tell me the truth, how happened this disorder?  Those ruffled hands, red looks, and port of fury?

Gril. I told him, sir, since you will have it so, He was the author of the rebel-league; Therefore, a traitor and a murderer.

King. Is’t possible?

Gui. No matter, sir, no matter;
A few hot words, no more, upon my life;
The old man roused, and shook himself a little: 
So, if your majesty will do me honour,
I do beseech you, let the business die.

King. Grillon, submit yourself, and ask his pardon.

Gril. Pardon me, I cannot do’t.

King. Where are the guards!

Gui. Hold, sir;—­come, colonel, I’ll ask pardon for you; This soldierly embrace makes up the breach; We will be sorry, sir, for one another.

Gril. My lord, I know not what to answer you; I’m friends,—­and I am not,—­and so farewell. [Exit.

King. You have your orders; yet before you go, Take this embrace:  I court you for my friend, Though Grillon would not.

Gui. I thank you on my knees; And still, while life shall last, will take strict care To justify my loyalty to your person. [Exit.

Qu.  M. Excellent loyalty, to lock you up!

King. I see even to the bottom of his soul;
And, madam, I must say the Guise has beauties,
But they are set in night, and foul design: 
He was my friend when young, and might be still.

Ab. Marked you his hollow accents at the parting?

Qu.  M. Graves in his smiles.

King. Death in his bloodless hands.—­
O Marmoutiere! now I will haste to meet thee: 
The face of beauty, on this rising horror,
Looks like the midnight moon upon a murder;
  It gilds the dark design that stays for fate,
  And drives the shades, that thicken, from the state. [Exuent.

ACT III.  SCENE I.

  Enter GRILLON and POLIN._

Gril. Have then this pious Council of Sixteen Scented your late discovery of the plot?

Pol. Not as from me; for still I kennel with them. 
And bark as loud as the most deep-mouthed traitor,
Against the king, his government, and laws;
Whereon immediately there runs a cry
Of,—­Seize him on the next procession! seize him. 
And clap the Chilperick in a monastery! 
Thus it was fixt, as I before discovered;
But when, against his custom, they perceived
The king absented, strait the rebels met,
And roared,—­they were undone.