No passage! Whither would the madman press?
Close the doors quick on me!
Gui. Too late! He's here.
(Enter, hastily and with discomposed dress, Valence.)
Valence. Sir Guibert, will you help me?—Me, that come
Charged by your townsmen, all who starve at Cleves,
To represent their heights and depths of woe
Before our Duchess and obtain relief!
Such errands barricade such doors, it seems:
But not a common hindrance drives me back