Call Grillon in. All that I beg you now,
Is to be hushed upon the consultation,
As urns, that never blab.
_Qu. M._ Doubt not your friends;
Love them, and then you need not fear your foes.
_Enter_ GRILLON.
_King._ Welcome, my honest man, my old tried friend.
Why dost thou fly me, Grillon, and retire?
_Gril._ Rather let me demand your majesty,
Why fly you from yourself? I've heard you say,
You'd arm against the League; why do you not?
The thoughts of such as you, are starts divine;
And when you mould with second cast the spirit,
The air, the life, the golden vapour's gone.
_King._ Soft, my old friend; Guise plots upon my life;
Polin shall tell thee more. Hast thou not heard
The insufferable affronts he daily offers,--
War without treasure on the Huguenots;
While I am forced against my bent of soul,
Against all laws, all custom, right, succession,
To cast Navarre from the Imperial line?
_Gril._ Why do you, sir? Death, let me tell the traitor--
_King._ Peace, Guise is going to his government;
You are his foe of old; go to him, Grillon;
Visit him as from me, to be employed
In this great war against the Huguenots;
And, pr'ythee, tell him roundly of his faults,
No farther, honest Grillon.
_Gril._ Shall I fight him?
_King._ I charge thee, not.
_Gril._ If he provokes me, strike him;
You'll grant me that?
_King._ Not so, my honest soldier;
Yet speak to him.
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