e a bolder man than I
am in parliament time[18]; but here comes the master and my niece.

_Alph._ Heaven preserve him! if a man may pray for him without
treason.

_Gril._ O yes, you may pray for him; the preachers of the Guise's side
do that most formally; nay, you may be suffered civilly to drink his
health; be of the court, and keep a place of profit under him: for, in
short, 'tis a judged case of conscience, to make your best of the
king, and to side against him.

_Enter_ KING _and_ MARMOUTIERE.

_King._ Grillon, be near me,
There's something for my service to be done,
Your orders will be sudden; now, withdraw.

_Gril._ [_Aside._] Well, I dare trust my niece, even though she comes
of my own family; but if she cuckolds my good opinion of her honesty,
there's a whole sex fallen under a general rule, without one
exception. [_Exeunt_ GRIL. _and_ ALPH.

_Mar._ You bid my uncle wait you.

_King._ Yes.

_Mar._ This hour?

_King._ I think it was.

_Mar._ Something of moment hangs upon this hour.

_King._ Not more on this, than on the next, and next.
My time is all ta'en up on usury;
I never am beforehand with my hours,
But every one has work before it comes.

_Mar._ "There's something for my service to be done;"--
Those were your words.

_King._ And you desire their meaning?

_Mar._ I dare not ask, and yet, perhaps, may guess.

_King._ 'Tis searching there where heaven can only pry,
Not man, who knows not man but by surmise;
Nor devils, nor angels of a purer mould,
Can trace the winding labyrinths of thought.
I tell thee, Marmoutiere, I never speak,
Not when alone, for fear some fiend should hear,
And blab my secrets out.

_Mar._ You hate the Guise.

_King._ True, I did hate him.

_Mar._ And you hate him still.

_King._ I am reconciled.

_Mar._ Your spirit is too high,
Great souls forgive not injuries, till time
Has put their enemies into their power,
That they may shew, forgiveness is their own;
For else, 'tis fear to punish, that forgives;
The coward, not the king.

_King._ He has submitted.

_Mar._ In show; for in effect he still insults.

_King._ Well, kings must bear sometimes.

_Mar._ They must, till they can shake their burden off;
And that's, I think, your aim.

_King._ Mistaken still:
All favours, all preferments, pass through them;
I'm pliant, and they mould me as they please.

_Mar._ These are your arts, to make them more secure;
Just s