Enter the Lady Abbess".

Abb. Be quiet, people.

hither?

Wherefore throng you

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.
Mer. I am sorry now, that I did draw on him.
Abb. How long hath this possession held the man?
Adr. 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.

Abb. 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?

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.

Abb. Ay, but not enough.

And in assemblies too.

10

Adr. It was the copy of our conference ".

In bed, he slept not for my urging it;

9 Enter the Lady Abbess.] It was therefore an abbey, not a priory, in which Antipholus and Dromio took sanctuary. She is called "Lady Abbess" in the old folios, but the modern editors deprive her of her title.

10 It was the COPY of our conference :] i. e. The chief part of our discourse: copy is often used in this sense by our old writers, from the Latin copia: thus Stephen Gosson, in his "School of Abuse," 1579, talks of "copy of abuses,” or abundance of abuses.

At board, he fed not for my urging it;
Alone, it was the subject of my theme;
In company, I often glanc'd it:

Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.

Abb. And thereof came it that the man was mad : The venom 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: 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,

1

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,

1 And at HER heels a huge infectious troop] So the old copies; and Malone needlessly altered her to their, when, in fact, only one person is spoken of, viz. "moody and dull melancholy :" the next line,

"Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,"

is clearly parenthetical. There is no reason why Shakespeare should not make the personification of melancholy feminine, as he has previously made love in this play, excepting that he had called her "kinsman" in the preceding line. Their was originally proposed by Heath.

And it shall privilege him from your hands,
Till I have brought him to his wits again,
Or lose my labour in essaying 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 us'd the approved means I have,
With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers,
To make of him a formal man again 2.
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.

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

[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 3: Anon, I'm sure, the duke himself in person Comes this way to the melancholy vale,

4

The place of death and sorry execution,
Behind the ditches of the abbey here.

2

Ang. Upon what cause?

Mer. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant,

- a FORMAL man again.] i. e. to restore him to his senses: to bring him back to the forms of sober behaviour. See Note 8, p. 96.

3 By this, I think, the dial points at five ;] The second folio here inserts "Enter Merchant and Goldsmith ;" but they had never quitted the scene. It also makes Adriana and Luciana very unnecessarily go out, and return again on the arrival of the Duke.

The place of DEATH] The original copy has depth, which is followed in the second folio. Rowe made the emendation.

Who put unluckily into this bay

Against the laws and statutes of this town,
Beheaded publicly 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; ÆGEON bare-headed; 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.

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,

Chas'd us away; till, raising of more aid,
We came again to bind them. Then they fled

3 At your IMPORTANT letters,] Important is often used for importunate. Instances might be quoted from "Much Ado about Nothing," "King Lear," &c.

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 Servant.

Serv. 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 blazed 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 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.

Serv. 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,

were

6 Beaten the maids A-ROW,] i. e. One after another, on a row. 7 His man with scissars NICKS him like a fool;] "Fools," says Malone, 66 shaved and nicked in a particular manner in our author's time, as is ascertained by the following passage in The Choice of Change, containing the Triplicitie of Divinitie, Philosophie, and Poetrie,' by S. R. Gent. 4to, 1598: 'Three things used by monks, which provoke other men to laugh at their follies: 1. They are sharen and notched on the head, like fooles.”

8thy master and his man are HERE:] Of course, meaning that they are in the Abbey, and pointing to it.