My grisly countenance made others fly,
None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
In iron walls they deem’d me not secure:
So great a fear my name amongst them spread,
That they suppos’d I could rend bars of steel,
And spurn in pieces posts of adamant.
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had:
They walk’d about me every minute-while;
And if I did but stir out of my bed,
Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.’