He was my friend when young, and might be still.

_Ab._ Marked you his hollow accents at the parting?

_Qu. M._ Graves in his smiles.

_King._ Death in his bloodless hands.--
O Marmoutiere! now I will haste to meet thee:
The face of beauty, on this rising horror,
Looks like the midnight moon upon a murder;
It gilds the dark design that stays for fate,
And drives the shades, that thicken, from the state. [_Exuent._


ACT III. SCENE I.

_Enter_ GRILLON _and_ POLIN._

_Gril._ Have then this pious Council of Sixteen
Scented your late discovery of the plot?

_Pol._ Not as from me; for still I kennel with them.
And bark as loud as the most deep-mouthed traitor,
Against the king, his government, and laws;
Whereon immediately there runs a cry
Of,--Seize him on the next procession! seize him.
And clap the Chilperick in a monastery!
Thus it was fixt, as I before discovered;
But when, against his custom, they perceived
The king absented, strait the rebels met,