Guise. Now, sir, I hope you're much abus'd eyes see
In my word for my Clermont, what a villaine
Hee was that whisper'd in your jealous eare
His owne blacke treason in suggesting Clermonts,
Colour'd with nothing but being great with mee.5
Signe then this writ for his deliverie;
Your hand was never urg'd with worthier boldnesse:
Come, pray, sir, signe it. Why should Kings be praid
To acts of justice? tis a reverence
Makes them despis'd, and showes they sticke and tyre[10]