Not of the greatest, shall be bought or sold;
Whereas too often honours are conferred
On soldiers, and no soldiers: This man knighted,
Because he charged a troop before his dinner,
And sculked behind a hedge i'the afternoon:
I will have strict examination made
Betwixt the meritorious and the base.

_Gril._ You have mouthed it bravely, and there is no doubt
Your deeds would answer well your haughty words;
Yet let me tell you, sir, there is a man,
(Curse on the hearts that hate him!) that would better,
Better than you, or all your puffy race,
That better would become the great battalion;
That when he shines in arms, and suns the field,
Moves, speaks, and fights, and is himself a war.

_Gui._ Your idol, sir; you mean the great Navarre:
But yet--

_Gril._ No _yet_, my lord of Guise, no _yet_;
By arms, I bar you that; I swear, no _yet_;
For never was his like, nor shall again.
Though voted from his right by your cursed League.

_Gui._ Judge not too rashly of the Holy League,
But look at home.

_Gril._ Ha! darest thou justify
Those villains?