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George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
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SCENE II. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Curtezan and others.

Adr.
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.

S. Dro.
Run, master, run, for God's sake take a house;
This is some Priory; in, or we are spoil'd.
[Exeunt to the Priory. Enter Lady Abbess.

Abb.
Be quiet people, wherefore throng you hither?

Adr.
To fetch my poor distracted husband hence;
Let us come in, that we may bind him fast,
And bear him home for his recovery.

Ang.
I knew he was not in his perfect wits.

-- 463 --

Mer.
I'm sorry now that I did draw on him.

Abb.
How long hath this possession held the man?

Adr.
This week he hath been heavy, sower, sad,
And much, much different from the man he was:
But 'till this afternoon his passion
Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.

Abb.
Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack at sea?
Bury'd 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?

Adr.
To none of these, except it be the last,
Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.

Abb.
You should for that have reprehended him.

Adr.
Why so I did.

Abb.
Ay, but not rough enough.

Adr.
As roughly as my modesty would let me.

Abb.
Haply in private.

Adr.
And in assemblies too.

Abb.
Ay, but not enough.

Adr.
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 theam;
In company I often glanc'd at it;
Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.

Abb.
And thereof came it that the man was mad.
The venom'd clamours of a jealous woman
Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
It seems his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing,
And thereof comes it that his head is light.
Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings,

-- 464 --


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 with thy brawls.
&plquo;Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue,
&plquo;But muddy and dull melancholy,
&plquo;Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,
&plquo;And at her heels a huge infectious troop
&plquo;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 those 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 my self,
And therefore let me have him home with me.

Abb.
Be patient, for I will not let him stir,
'Till I have us'd th' approved means I have,
With wholsome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers
To make of him a formal man again;
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,

-- 465 --


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.

Abb.
Be quiet and depart, thou shalt not have him.

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.
Enter Merchant and Angelo.

Mer.
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.

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.
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George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
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