My lord, thinke not a thought so villanous

Can harbor in a man of noble birth.

To do your highnes service and devoire,

And save you from your foes, Bartley would die.

I, my most gratious lord, so tis decreed.

Your grace must hence with mee to Bartley straight.

Even so betide my soule as I use him.

And thinkes your grace that Bartley will bee cruell?