Thou say'st, his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraid

ings:

Unquiet meals make ill digestions,

Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;

And what's a fever but a fit of madness?

Thou say'st, his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls:
Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue,
But moody and dull melancholy,

(Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair;)
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop
Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life?
In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest
To be disturb'd, would mad or man, or beast:
The consequence is then, thy jealous fits
Have scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.

Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himself rough, rude and wildly.Why bear you these rebukes, and answer not?

Adr. She did betray me to my own reproof.Good people, enter, and lay hold on him.

Abb. No, not a creature enters in my house. Adr. Then, let your servants bring my husband forth.

Abb. Neither; he took this place for sanctuary, And it shall privilege him from your hands,

Till I have brought him to his wits again,
Or lose my labour in assaying it.

Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse,
Diet his sickness, for it is my office,

And will have no attorney but myself;

And therefore let me have him home with me.
Abb. Be patient; for I will not let him stir,

Till I have used the approved means I have,
With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers,
To make of him a formal man again:

It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
A charitable duty of my order;

Therefore depart, and leave him here with me. Adr. I will not hence, and leave my husband here; And ill it doth beseem your holiness,

To separate the husband and the wife.

him.

Abb. Be quiet, and depart, thou shalt not have [Exit Abbess. Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indignity. Adr. Come, go; I will fall prostrate at his feet, And never rise until my tears and prayers Have won his grace to come in person hither, And take perforce my husband from the abbess. Mer. By this, I think, the dial points at five: Anon, I am sure, the duke himself in person Comes this way to the melancholy vale; The place of death and sorry execution, Behind the ditches of the abbey here.

Ang. Upon what cause?

Mer. To see a reverend Syracusan merchant,

Who put unluckily into this bay

Against the laws and statutes of this town,

Beheaded publickly for his offence.

Ang. See, where they come; we will behold his

death.

Luc. Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey.

Enter Duke attended; Egeon bare-headed; with the Headsman and other Officers.

Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publickly, If any friend will pay the sum for him,

He shall not die, so much we tender him.

Adr. Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess !
Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend lady;
It cannot be, that she hath done thee wrong.
Adr. May it please your grace, Antipholus, my
husband,-

Whom I made lord of me and all I had,
At your important letters,-this ill day
A most outrageous fit of madness took him;
That desperately he hurried through the street,
(With him his bondman, all as mad as he,)
Doing displeasure to the citizens

By rushing in their houses, bearing thence
Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
Once did I get him bound, and sent him home,
Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went,
That here and there his fury had committed.
Anon, I wot not by what strong escape,

He broke from those that had the guard of him;
And, with his mad attendant and himself,
Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords,
Met us again, and, madly bent on us,

Chased us away; till, raising of more aid,
We came again to bind them: then they fled
Into this abbey, whither we pursued them;
And here the abbess shuts the gates on us,

And will not suffer us to fetch him out,
Nor send him forth, that we may bear him hence.
Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command,
Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help.
Duke. Long since, thy husband serv'd me in my

wars;

And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,

When thou didst make him master of thy bed,
To do him all the grace and good I could.—
Go, some of you, knock at the abbey-gate,
And bid the lady abbess come to me;
I will determine this, before I stir.

Enter a Sercant.

Sero. O mistress, mistress, shift and save your

self!

My master and his man are both broke loose,
Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor,

Whose beard they have singed off with brands of

fire;

And ever as it blazed, they threw on him

Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair:
My master preaches patience to him, while
His man with scissars nicks him like a fool:
And, sure, unless you send some present help,
Between them they will kill the conjurer.

Adr. Peace, fool, thy master and his man are here;

And that is false, thou dost report to us.

Sero. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true; I have not breath'd almost, since I did see it. He cries for you, and vows, if he can take you,

To scorch your face, and to disfigure you:

[Cry within. Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, be gone. Duke. Come, stand by me, fear nothing: Guard with halberds!

Adr. Ah me, it is my husband! Witness you,
That he is borne about invisible:

Even now we hous'd him in the abbey here;
And now he's there, past thought of human reason.

Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Ephesus. Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke, oh, grant me justice!

Even for the service that long since I did thee,
When I bestrid thee in the wars, and took

Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood
That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.
Ege. Unless the fear of death doth make me
dote,

I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio.

Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman

there.

She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife;
That hath abused and dishonour'd me,

Even in the strength and height of injury!

Beyond imagination is the wrong,

That she this day hath shameless thrown on me. Duke. Discover how, and thou shalt find me

just.

Ant. E. This day, great duke, she shut the doors

upon me,

While she with harlots feasted in my house.