| | Adriana. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence. |
| | Let us come in, that we may bind him fast | 40 | |
| | And bear him home for his recovery. |
| | Angelo. I knew he was not in his perfect wits. |
| | 2 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 wrack of sea? |
| | Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye | 50 |
| | 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. | 60 |
| | 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. | 70 |
| | It seems his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing, |