GORDON.
And all then have deserted him you say?
He has built up the luck of many thousands;
For kingly was his spirit: his full hand
Was ever open! Many a one from dust
[With a sly glance on BUTLER.]
Hath he selected, from the very dust
Hath raised him into dignity and honor,
And yet no friend, not one friend hath he purchased,
Whose heart beats true to him in the evil hour.
BUTLER.
Here's one, I see.
GORDON.
I have enjoy'd from him
No grace or favor. I could almost doubt
If ever in his greatness he once thought on
An old friend of his youth. For still my office
Kept me at a distance from him; and when first
He to this citadel appointed me,
He was sincere and serious in his duty.
I do not then abuse his confidence,
If I preserve my fealty in that
Which to my fealty was first delivered.
BUTLER.
Say, then, will you fulfil th' attainder on him,
[And lend your aid to take him in arrest?]