MARQUIS.
That old soldier, sire,
Who has faced death, in twenty battles, for you,
Must hold it thankless to be so dismissed.
KING.
'Tis thus for you to think—for me to act;
In a few hours you have been more to me
Than that man in a lifetime. Nor shall I
Keep my content a secret. On your brow
The lustre of my high and royal favor
Shall shine resplendent—I will make that man
A mark for envy whom I choose my friend.
MARQUIS.
What if the veil of dark obscurity
Were his sole claim to merit such a title?
KING.
What come you now to tell me?
MARQUIS.
As I passed
Along the antechamber a dread rumor
Fell on my ear,—it seemed incredible,—
Of a most angry quarrel—blood—the queen——
KING.
Come you from her?
MARQUIS.
I should be horrified
Were not the rumor false: or should perhaps
Your majesty meantime have done some act—
Discoveries of importance I have made,
Which wholly change the aspect of affairs.
KING.
How now?
MARQUIS.
I found an opportunity
To seize your son's portfolio, with his letters,
Which, as I hope, may throw some light——
[He gives the PRINCE's portfolio to the KING.