Fall in a rage, and run vpon his foe,
Let him, I say, behold the raging woe
Of Buckingham, that in these gripes of griefe,
Rageth gaynst him that hath betrayde his lyfe.
85.
With bloud red iyen hee stareth here and there,
Frothing at mouth, with face as pale as cloute:
When, loe, my lyms were trembling all for feare,
And I amazde stoode still in dread and doubt,
While I mought see him throwe his arms about: