_
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.
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