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: