_Gui._ I'll not justify a villain,
More than yourself; but if you thus proceed,
If every heated breath can puff away,
On each surmise, the lives of free-born people,
What need that awful general convocation,
The assembly of the states?--nay, let me urge,--
If thus they vilify the Holy League,
What may their heads expect?

_Gril._ What, if I could,
They should be certain of,--whole piles of fire.

_Gui._ Colonel, 'tis very well I know your mind,
Which, without fear, or flattery to your person,
I'll tell the king; and then, with his permission,
Proclaim it for a warning to our people.

_Gril._ Come, you're a murderer yourself within,
A traitor.

_Gui._ Thou a ---- hot old hair-brained fool.

_Gril._ You were complotter with the cursed League,
The black abettor of our Harry's death.

_Gui._ 'Tis false.

_Gril._ 'Tis true, as thou art double-hearted:
Thou double traitor, to conspire so basely;