William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Complete Works

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 LADY 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.

SECOND 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 hind'red 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 hind'red 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 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 myself;

And therefore let me have him home with me.

ABBESS. Be patient; for I will not let him stir

Till I have us'd 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.

ADRIANA. I will not hence and leave my husband here;

And ill it doth beseem your holiness

To separate the husband and the wife.

ABBESS. Be quiet, and depart; thou shalt not have him.

[Exit]

LUCIANA. Complain unto the Duke of this indignity.

ADRIANA. 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.

SECOND MERCHANT. By this, I think, the dial points at five;

Anon, I'm 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.

ANGELO. Upon what cause?

SECOND MERCHANT. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant,

Who put unluckily into this bay

Against the laws and statutes of this town,

Beheaded publicly for his offence.

ANGELO. See where they come; we will behold his death.

LUCIANA. Kneel to the Duke before he pass the abbey.

Enter the DUKE, attended; AEGEON, bareheaded; with the HEADSMAN and other OFFICERS

DUKE. Yet once again proclaim it publicly,

If any friend will pay the sum for him,

He shall not die; so much we tender him.

ADRIANA. 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.

ADRIANA. May it please your Grace, Antipholus, my husband,

Who 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 desp'rately 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, anything 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,

Chas'd us away; till, raising of more aid,

We came again to bind them. Then they fled

Into this abbey, whither we pursu'd 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 MESSENGER

MESSENGER. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself!

My master and his man are both broke loose,

Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor,

Whose beard they have sing'd off with brands of fire;

And ever, as it blaz'd, they threw on him

Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair.

My master preaches patience to him, and the while

His man with scissors nicks him like a fool;

And sure, unless you send some present help,

Between them they will kill the conjurer.

ADRIANA. Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here,

And that is false thou dost report to us.

MESSENGER. 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.

ADRIANA. Ay me, it is my husband! Witness you

That he is borne about invisible.