TRESHAM. A man, you say:
What man? Young? Not a vulgar hind? What dress?

GERARD. A slouched hat and a large dark foreign cloak
Wraps his whole form; even his face is hid;
But I should judge him young: no hind, be sure!

TRESHAM. Why?

GERARD. He is ever armed: his sword projects
Beneath the cloak.

TRESHAM. Gerard,--I will not say
No word, no breath of this!

GERARD. Thank, thanks, my lord!
[Goes.]

TRESHAM [paces the room. After a pause].
Oh, thoughts absurd!--as with some monstrous fact
Which, when ill thoughts beset us, seems to give
Merciful God that made the sun and stars,
The waters and the green delights of earth,
The lie! I apprehend the monstrous fact--
Yet know the maker of all worlds is good,
And yield my reason up, inadequate
To reconcile what yet I do behold--
Blasting my sense! There's cheerful day outside:
This is my library, and this the chair