Omnes. Away, you bawling Mastiffe.
Clow. Pish, pish. |Exeunt.|
Enter Atticus, Sforza, Nicanor, and one or two Lords more.
King. Why doe you thus pursue me? Can no place
Shelter a King from being bayted thus
With Acclamations beyond sufferance
Of Maiestie, or mortall strength to beare?
We will indure’t no longer. Where’s our Guard?
Where is Aurelia? where’s Iago gone?
To studie new Inuectiues? If agen