William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare

and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.]

       ANGELO.

       ‘Tis so; and that self chain about his neck

       Which he forswore most monstrously to have.

       Good sir, draw near to me, I’ll speak to him.—

       Signior Andpholus, I wonder much

       That you would put me to this shame and trouble;

       And, not without some scandal to yourself,

       With circumstance and oaths so to deny

       This chain, which now you wear so openly:

       Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment,

       You have done wrong to this my honest friend;

       Who, but for staying on our controversy,

       Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day;

       This chain you had of me; can you deny it?

       ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.

       I think I had: I never did deny it.

       MERCHANT.

       Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too.

       ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.

       Who heard me to deny it or forswear it?

       MERCHANT.

       These ears of mine, thou know’st, did hear thee.

       Fie on thee, wretch! ‘tis pity that thou liv’st

       To walk where any honest men resort.

       ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.

       Thou art a villain to impeach me thus;

       I’ll prove mine honour and mine honesty

       Against thee presently, if thou dar’st stand.

       MERCHANT.

       I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.

       [They draw.]

       [Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, COURTEZAN, and others.]

       ADRIANA.

       Hold, hurt him not, for God’s sake; he is mad.

       Some get within him, take his sword away:

       Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.

       DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.

       Run, master, run; for God’s sake, take a house.

       This is some priory;—in, or we are spoil’d.

       [Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE to the priory.]

       [Enter the ABBESS.]

       ABBESS.

       Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?

       ADRIANA.

       To fetch my poor distracted husband hence:

       Let us come in, that we may bind him fast,

       And bear him home for his recovery.

       ANGELO.

       I knew he was not in his perfect wits.

       MERCHANT.

       I am sorry now that I did draw on him.

       ABBESS.

       How long hath this possession held the man?

       ADRIANA.

       This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad,

       And much different from the man he was:

       But till this afternoon his passion

       Ne’er brake into extremity of rage.

       ABBESS.

       Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea?

       Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye

       Stray’d his affection in unlawful love?

       A sin prevailing much in youthful men

       Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.

       Which of these sorrows is he subject to?

       ADRIANA.

       To none of these, except it be the last;

       Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.

       ABBESS.

       You should for that have reprehended him.

       ADRIANA.

       Why, so I did.

       ABBESS.

       Ay, but not rough enough.

       ADRIANA.

       As roughly as my modesty would let me.

       ABBESS.

       Haply in private.

       ADRIANA.

       And in assemblies too.

       ABBESS.

       Ay, but not enough.

       ADRIANA.

       It was the copy of our conference.

       In bed, he slept not for my urging it;

       At board, he fed not for my urging it;

       Alone, it was the subject of my theme;

       In company, I often glanced it;

       Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.

       ABBESS.

       And thereof came it that the man was mad:

       The venom clamours of a jealous woman

       Poisons more deadly than a mad dog’s tooth.

       It seems his sleeps were hindered by thy railing:

       And thereof comes it that his head is light.

       Thou say’st his meat was sauc’d with thy upbraidings:

       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

       Hath scar’d thy husband from the use of’s wits.

       LUCIANA.

       She never reprehended him but mildly,

       When he demean’d himself rough, rude, and wildly.—

       Why bear you these rebukes, and answer not?

       ADRIANA.

       She did betray me to my own reproof.—

       Good people, enter, and lay hold on him.

       ABBESS.

       No, not a creature enters in my house.

       ADRIANA.

       Then let your servants bring my husband forth.

       ABBESS.

       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.

       ADRIANA.

       I will attend my husband, be his nurse,

       Diet his sickness, for it is my office,

       And will have no attorney but