Act 1 — [Scene II.][2428]
Reading edition
[Scene II.][2428]
Enter Friar Anselmo, Hippolito, Matheo, and Infelice.
Hip. Nay, nay, resolve,[2429] good father, or deny. Ans. You press me to an act both full of danger And full of happiness; for I behold Your father’s frowns, his threats, nay, perhaps death To him that dare do this: yet, noble lord,5 Such comfortable beams break through these clouds By this blest marriage, that your honour’d word Being pawn’d in my defence, I will tie fast The holy wedding-knot. Hip. Tush, fear not the duke. Ans. O son! wisely to fear, is to be free from fear.10 Hip. You have our words, and you shall have our lives, To guard you safe from all ensuing danger. Mat. Ay, ay, chop ’em up, and away. Ans. Stay, when is ’t fit for me, and safest for you, To entertain this business? Hip. Not till the evening.15 Ans. Be ’t so, there is a chapel stands hard by, Upon the west end of the abbey wall; Thither convey yourselves, and when the sun Hath turn’d his back upon this upper world, I ’ll marry you; that done, no thund’ring voice Can break the sacred bond: yet, lady, here21 You are most safe. Inf. Father, your love ’s most dear.
Mat. Ay, well said; lock us into some little room by ourselves, that we may be mad for an hour or two.25
Hip. O, good Matheo, no, let ’s make no noise.
Mat. How! no noise! Do you know where you are? ’Sfoot, amongst all the madcaps in Milan; so that to throw the house out at window will be the better, and no man will30 suspect that we lurk here to steal mutton.[2430] The more sober we are, the more scurvy[2431] ’t is. And though the friar tell us that here we are safest, I am not of his mind; for if those lay here that had lost their money, none would ever look35 after them; but here are none but those that have lost their wits, so that if hue and cry be made, hither they ’ll come; and my reason is, because none goes to be married till he be stark mad.40
Hip. Muffle yourselves, yonder ’s Fluello.
Enter Fluello.
Mat. Zounds!
Flu. O my lord, these cloaks are not for this rain! The tempest is too great. I come sweating to tell you of it, that you may get out of it.
Mat. Why, what ’s the matter?45
Flu. What ’s the matter? You have matter’d it fair; the duke ’s at hand.
All. The duke? Flu. The very duke. Hip. Then all our plots Are turn’d upon our heads and we ’re blown up With our own underminings. ’Sfoot, how comes he?50 What villain durst betray our being here?
Flu. Castruchio told the duke, and Matheo here told Castruchio.
Hip. Would you betray me to Castruchio?
Mat. ’Sfoot, he damn’d himself to the pit55 of hell, if he spake on ’t again.
Hip. So did you swear to me: so were you damn’d.
Mat. Pox on ’em, and there be no faith in men, if a man shall not believe oaths. He took bread and salt, by this light, that he would60 never open his lips.
Hip. O God, O God!
Ans. Son, be not desperate, Have patience, you shall trip your enemy Down by his own slights.[2432] How far is the duke hence?
Flu. He ’s but new set out: Castruchio,65 Pioratto, and Sinezi come along with him. You have time enough yet to prevent[2433] them, if you have but courage.
Ans. Ye shall steal secretly into the chapel, And presently be married. If the duke70 Abide here still, spite of ten thousand eyes, You shall scape hence like friars. Hip. O blest disguise! O happy man! Ans. Talk not of Happiness till your clos’d hand Have her by th’ forehead, like the lock of Time.75 Be nor too slow, nor hasty, now you climb Up to the tower of bliss; only be wary And patient, that ’s all. If you like my plot, Build and despatch; if not, farewell, then not. Hip. O yes, we do applaud it! we ’ll dispute80 No longer, but will hence and execute. Fluello, you ’ll stay here: let us be gone. The ground that frighted lovers tread upon Is stuck with thorns. Ans. Come, then, away, ’t is meet, To escape those thorns, to put on winged feet.85 Exeunt Anselmo, Hippolito, and Infelice]. Mat. No words, I pray, Fluello, for ’t stands us upon. Flu. Oh, sir, let that be your lesson! [Exit Matheo.] Alas, poor lovers! On what hopes and fears Men toss themselves for women! When she ’s got,90 The best has in her that which pleaseth not.
Enter to Fluello the Duke, Castruchio, Pioratto, and Sinezi from several doors, muffled.
Duke. Who ’s there? Cas. My lord. Duke. Peace; send that “lord” away. A lordship will spoil all; let ’s be all fellows. What ’s he? Cas. Fluello, or else, Sinezi, by his little95 legs. All. All friends, all friends. Duke. What? Met upon the very point of time? Is this the place? Pio. This is the place, my lord. Duke. Dream you on lordships? Come no more “lords,” I pray:100 You have not seen these lovers yet? All. Not yet. Duke. Castruchio, art thou sure this wedding feat Is not till afternoon? Cas. So ’t is given out, my lord. Duke. Nay, nay, ’t is like; thieves must observe their hours; Lovers watch minutes like astronomers;105 How shall the interim hours by us be spent? Flu. Let ’s all go to see the madmen. All. Mass, content.
Enter a Sweeper.[2434]
Duke. Oh, here comes one; question him, question him.110
Flu. Now, honest fellow? dost thou belong to the house?
Sweep. Yes, forsooth, I am one of the implements; I sweep the madmen’s rooms, and fetch straw for ’em, and buy chains to tie ’em,115 and rods to whip ’em. I was a mad wag myself here, once, but I thank Father Anselmo, he lasht me into my right mind again.
Duke. Anselmo is the friar must marry them; Question him where he is.120
Cas. And where is Father Anselmo now?
Sweep. Marry, he ’s gone but e’en now.
Duke. Ah, well done.—Tell me, whither is he gone?
Sweep. Why to God a’mighty.
Flu. Ha, ha! this fellow ’s a fool, talks125 idly.
Pio. Sirrah, are all the mad folks in Milan brought hither?
Sweep. How, all? There ’s a question indeed! Why if all the mad folks in Milan130 should come hither, there would not be left ten men in the city.
Duke. Few gentlemen or courtiers here, ha?
Sweep. O yes, abundance, abundance! Lands no sooner fall into their hands,135 but straight they run out a’ their wits. Citizens’ sons and heirs are free of the house by their fathers’ copy.[2435] Farmers’ sons come hither like geese, in flocks, and when they ha’ sold all their cornfields, here they sit and pick the140 straws.
Sin. Methinks you should have women here as well as men.
Sweep. Oh, ay, a plague on ’em, there ’s no ho![2436] with ’em; they ’re madder than March145 hares.
Flu. Are there no lawyers amongst you?
Sweep. Oh no, not one; never any lawyer. We dare not let a lawyer come in, for he ’ll make ’em mad faster than we can recover150 ’em.
Duke. And how long is ’t ere you recover any of these?
Sweep. Why, according to the quantity of the moon that ’s got into ’em. An alderman’s155 son will be mad a great while, a very great while, especially if his friends left him well. A whore will hardly come to her wits again. A puritan, there ’s no hope of him, unless he may pull down the steeple, and hang himself i’160 th’ bell-ropes.
Flu. I perceive all sorts of fish come to your net.
Sweep. Yes, in truth, we have blocks[2437] for all heads; we have good store of wild-oats165 here; for the courtier is mad at the citizen, the citizen is mad at the countryman; the shoemaker is mad at the cobbler, the cobbler at the carman; the punk is mad that the merchant’s wife is no whore, the merchant’s wife is mad170 that the punk is so common a whore. Gods so, here ’s Father Anselmo; pray say nothing that I tell tales out of the school.
Exit.
Re-enter Anselmo [and Servants].
All. God bless you, father. Ans. I thank you, gentlemen. Cas. Pray, may we see some of those wretched souls,175 That here are in your keeping? Ans. Yes, you shall; But gentlemen, I must disarm you then. There are of mad men, as there are of tame, All humour’d not alike: we have here some, So apish and fantastic, play with a feather,180 And, though ’t would grieve a soul to see God’s image So blemisht and defac’d, yet do they act Such antic and such pretty lunacies, That spite of sorrow they will make you smile. Others again we have like hungry lions,185 Fierce as wild-bulls, untameable as flies, And these have oftentimes from strangers’ sides Snatcht rapiers suddenly, and done much harm, Whom if you ’ll see, you must be weaponless. All. With all our hearts. [Giving their weapons to Anselmo.] Ans. Here, take these weapons in.— [Exit Servant with weapons.] 190 Stand off a little, pray; so, so, ’t is well. I ’ll show you here a man that was sometimes A very grave and wealthy citizen; Has serv’d a prenticeship to this misfortune, Been here seven years, and dwelt in Bergamo.195 Duke. How fell he from his wits? Ans. By loss at sea; I ’ll stand aside, question him you alone, For if he spy me, he ’ll not speak a word, Unless he ’s th’roughly vext. Discovers an old man, wrapt in a net.
Flu. Alas, poor soul!
Cas. A very old man.200
Duke. God speed, father!
1 Mad. God speed the plough, thou shalt not speed me.
Pio. We see you, old man, for all you dance in a net.205
1 Mad. True, but thou wilt dance in a halter, and I shall not see thee.
Ans. Oh do not vex him, pray.
Cas. Are you a fisherman, father?
1 Mad. No, I am neither fish nor flesh.210
Flu. What do you with that net then?
1 Mad. Dost not see, fool? There’s a fresh salmon in ’t; if you step one foot further, you’ll be over shoes, for you see I’m over head and ears in the salt-water: and if you fall into215 this whirl-pool where I am, y’ are drown’d: y’are a drown’d rat. I am fishing here for five ships, but I cannot have a good draught, for my net breaks still, and breaks; but I ’ll break some of your necks an I catch you in my clutches.220 Stay, stay, stay, stay, stay, where ’s the wind? where ’s the wind? where ’s the wind? where ’s the wind? Out, you gulls, you goose-caps,[2438] you gudgeon-eaters![2439] Do you look for the wind in the heavens? Ha, ha, ha, ha! no, no! Look225 there, look there, look there! the wind is always at that door: hark how it blows, puff, puff, puff!
All. Ha, ha, ha!
1 Mad. Do you laugh at God’s creatures?230 Do you mock old age, you rogues? Is this gray beard and head counterfeit that you cry, ha, ha, ha? Sirrah, art not thou my eldest son?
Pio. Yes, indeed, father.
1 Mad. Then th’ art a fool, for my eldest235 son had a polt-foot,[2440] crooked legs, a verjuice[2441] face, and a pear-colour’d beard. I made him a scholar, and he made himself a fool.—Sirrah, thou there: hold out thy hand.
Duke. My hand? Well, here ’t is.240
1 Mad. Look, look, look, look! Has he not long nails, and short hair?
Flu. Yea, monstrous short hair, and abominable long nails.
1 Mad. Ten-penny nails, are they not?245
Flu. Yes, ten-penny nails.
1 Mad. Such nails had my second boy. Kneel down, thou varlet, and ask thy father’s blessing. Such nails had my middlemost son, and I made him a promoter:[2442] and he scrapt, and250 scrapt, and scrapt, till he got the devil and all: but he scrapt thus, and thus, and thus, and it went under his legs, till at length a company of kites, taking him for carrion, swept up all, all, all, all, all, all, all. If you love your255 lives, look to yourselves: see, see, see, see, the Turks’ galleys are fighting with my ships! Bounce goes the guns! Oooh! cry the men! Rumble, rumble, go the waters! Alas, there; ’t is sunk, ’t is sunk: I am undone, I am undone!260 You are the damn’d pirates have undone me: you are, by the Lord, you are, you are!—Stop ’em—you are!
Ans. Why, how now sirrah! Must I fall to tame you?265
1 Mad. Tame me! No, I ’ll be madder than a roasted cat. See, see, I am burnt with gunpowder,—these are our close fights!
Ans. I ’ll whip you, if you grow unruly thus.
1 Mad. Whip me? Out you toad! Whip270 me? What justice is this, to whip me because I am a beggar? Alas! I am a poor man: a very poor man! I am starv’d, and have had no meat by this light, ever since the great flood; I am a poor man.275
Ans. Well, well, be quiet, and you shall have meat.
1 Mad. Ay, ay, pray do; for, look you, here be my guts: these are my ribs—you may look through my ribs—see how my guts come out!280 These are my red guts, my very guts, oh, oh!
Ans. Take him in there.
[Servants remove 1 Madman.]
All. A very piteous sight.
Cas. Father, I see you have a busy charge.
Ans. They must be us’d like children, pleas’d with toys.285 And anon whipt for their unruliness. I ’ll show you now a pair quite different From him that ’s gone. He was all words; and these Unless you urge ’em, seldom spend their speech, But save their tongues. [Opens another door, from which enter 2 and 3 Madmen.] La, you; this hithermost Fell from the happy quietness of mind291 About a maiden that he lov’d, and died. He followed her to church, being full of tears, And as her body went into the ground, He fell stark mad. This is a married man,295 Was jealous of a fair, but, as some say, A very virtuous wife; and that spoil’d him.
3 Mad.[2443] All these are whoremongers, and lay with my wife: whore, whore, whore, whore, whore!300
Flu. Observe him.
3 Mad. Gaffer shoemaker, you pull’d on my wife’s pumps, and then crept into her pantofles.[2444] lie there, lie there!—This was her tailor.304 You cut out her loose-bodied gown, and put in a yard more than I allowed her; lie there by the shoemaker. O master doctor! are you here? You gave me a purgation, and then crept into my wife’s chamber to feel her pulses, and309 you said, and she said, and her maid said, that they went pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat. Doctor, I’ll put you anon into my wife’s urinal. Heigh, come aloft, Jack! This was her school-master, and taught her to play upon the virginals,314 and still his jacks[2445] leapt up, up. You prickt[2446] her out nothing but bawdy lessons, but I’ll prick you all, fiddler—doctor—tailor—shoemaker —shoemaker—fiddler—doctor—tailor! So! lie with my wife again, now.319
Cas. See how he notes the other, now he feeds.
3 Mad. Give me some porridge.
2 Mad. I’ll give thee none.
3 Mad. Give me some porridge.
2 Mad. I’ll not give thee a bit.325
3 Mad. Give me that flap-dragon.[2447]
2 Mad. I’ll not give thee a spoonful. Thou liest, it’s no dragon, ’t is a parrot that I bought for my sweetheart, and I’ll keep it.
3 Mad. Here ’s an almond for parrot.[2448]330
2 Mad. Hang thyself!
3 Mad. Here ’s a rope for parrot.[2448]
2 Mad. Eat it, for I’ll eat this.
3 Mad. I’ll shoot at thee, an thou ’t give me none.335
2 Mad. Wu’t thou?
3 Mad. I’ll run a tilt at thee, an thou ’t give me none.
2 Mad. Wu’t thou? Do an thou dar’st.
3 Mad. Bounce! 340
[Strikes him.]
2 Mad. O—oh! I am slain! Murder, murder, murder! I am slain; my brains are beaten out.
Ans. How now, you villains! Bring me whips: I’ll whip you.345
2 Mad. I am dead! I am slain! ring out the bell, for I am dead.
Duke. How will you do now, sirrah? You ha’ kill’d him.349
3 Mad. I’ll answer ’t at sessions: he was eating of almond-butter, and I long’d for ’t. The child had never been delivered out of my belly, if I had not kill’d him. I’ll answer ’t at sessions, so my wife may be burnt i’ th’ hand, too.354
Ans. Take ’em in both: bury him, for he’s dead.
2 Mad. Indeed, I am dead; put me, I pray, into a good pit-hole.
3 Mad. I’ll answer ’t at sessions.
[Servants remove 2 and 3 Madmen.] 359
Enter Bellafront mad.
Ans. How now, huswife, whither gad you?
Bell. A-nutting forsooth. How do you, gaffer? How do you, gaffer? There’s a French curtsey for you, too.
Flu. ’T is Bellafront!
Pio. ’T is the punk, by th’ Lord!365
Duke. Father, what’s she, I pray?
Ans. As yet I know not, She came in but this day; talks little idly, And therefore has the freedom of the house.
Bell. Do not you know me?—nor you?—nor you?—nor you?370
All. No, indeed.
Bell. Then you are an ass,—and you an ass, —and you are an ass,—for I know you.
Ans. Why, what are they? Come, tell me, what are they?375
Bell. They’re fish-wives, will you buy any gudgeons? God’s santy![2449] yonder come friars, I know them too.— Enter Hippolito, Matheo, and Infelice disguised in the habits of Friars. How do you, friar? Ans. Nay, nay, away, you must not trouble friars.—379 [Aside to Hippolito, etc.] The duke is here, speak nothing.
Bell. Nay, indeed, you shall not go: we’ll run at barley-break first, and you shall be in hell.[2450]384
Mat. My punk turn’d mad whore, as all her fellows are!
Hip. Say nothing; but steal hence, when you spy time.
Ans. I’ll lock you up, if you ’re unruly: fie!
Bell. Fie! Marry, so, they shall not go indeed, till I ha’ told ’em their fortunes.390
Duke. Good father, give her leave.
Bell. Ay, pray, good father, and I’ll give you my blessing.
Ans. Well then, be brief, but if you’re thus unruly, I’ll have you lockt up fast.395 Pio. Come, to their fortunes. Bell. Let me see, one, two, three, and four. I’ll begin with the little friar[2451] first. Hers’s a fine hand, indeed! I never saw friar have such a dainty hand: here’s a hand for a lady!400 Here’s your fortune:— You love a friar better than a nun; Yet long you ’ll love no friar, nor no friar’s son. Bow a little, the line of life is out, yet I’m afraid, For all you ’re holy, you ’ll not die a maid.405 God give you joy! Now to you, Friar Tuck. Mat. God send me good luck! Bell. You love one, and one loves you: You ’re a false knave, and she ’s a Jew,410 Here is a dial that false ever goes— Mat. O your wit drops! Bell. Truth, so does your nose— Nay let ’s shake hands with you too; pray open, here ’s a fine hand! Ho friar, ho! God be here!415 So he had need. You ’ll keep good cheer, Here ’s a free table,[2452] but a frozen breast, For you ’ll starve those that love you best; Yet you have good fortune, for if I ’m no liar, Then you are no friar, nor you, nor you no friar, Haha, haha! 421 Discovers them. Duke. Are holy habits cloaks for villany? Draw all your weapons! Hip. Do: draw all your weapons. Duke. Where are your weapons? Draw!425 All. The friar has gull’d us of ’em. Mat. O rare trick! You ha’ learnt one mad point of arithmetic. Hip. Why swells your spleen so high? Against what bosom Would you your weapons draw? Her’s? ’T is your daughter’s:429 Mine? ’T is your son’s. Duke. Son? Mat. Son, by yonder sun. Hip. You cannot shed blood here but ’t is your own; To spill your own blood were damnation. Lay smooth that wrinkled brow, and I will throw Myself beneath your feet: Let it be rugged still and flinted ore,435 What can come forth but sparkles, that will burn Yourself and us? She ’s mine; my claim ’s most good; She ’s mine by marriage, though she ’s yours by blood. [Ans. kneeling.] I have a hand, dear lord, deep in this act, For I foresaw this storm, yet willingly440 Put forth to meet it. Oft have I seen a father Washing the wounds of his dear son in tears. A son to curse the sword that struck his father, Both slain i’ th’ quarrel of your families.444 Those scars are now ta’en off; and I beseech you To seal our pardon! All was to this end, To turn the ancient hates of your two houses To fresh green friendship, that your loves might look Like the spring’s forehead, comfortably sweet; And your vext souls in peaceful union meet.450 Their blood will now be yours, yours will be theirs, And happiness shall crown your silver hairs. Flu. You see, my lord, there ’s now no remedy. All. Beseech your lordship! Duke. You beseech fair, you have me in place fit455 To bridle me.—Rise friar, you may be glad You can make madmen tame and tame men mad. Since Fate hath conquer’d, I must rest content; To strive now, would but add new punishment. I yield unto your happiness; be blest,460 Our families shall henceforth breathe in rest. All. Oh, happy change! Duke. Your’s now is my content, I throw upon your joys my full consent.
Bell. Am not I a good girl, for finding464 “the friar in the well?”[2453] Gods so, you are a brave man! Will not you buy me some sugar-plums, because I am so good a fortune-teller?
Duke. Would thou hadst wit, thou pretty soul, to ask, As I have will to give.469
Bell. Pretty soul? A pretty soul is better than a pretty body. Do not you know my pretty soul? I know you. Is not your name Matheo?
Mat. Yes, lamb.
Bell. Baa lamb! there you lie, for I am mutton.[2454]—Look, fine man! he was mad for me475 once, and I was mad for him once, and he was mad for her once, and were you never mad? Yes, I warrant; I had a fine jewel once, a very fine jewel, and that naughty man stole it away from me,—a very fine and a rich jewel.480
Duke. What jewel, pretty maid?
Bell. Maid? Nay, that ’s a lie. O, ’t was a very rich jewel, called a maidenhead, and had not you it, leerer?
Mat. Out, you mad ass! away.485
Duke. Had he thy maidenhead? He shall make thee amends, and marry thee. Bell. Shall he? O brave Arthur of Bradley[2455] then! Duke. And if he bear the mind of a gentleman, I know he will.491 Mat. I think I rifled her of some such paltry jewel. Duke. Did you? Then marry her; you see the wrong Has led her spirits into a lunacy.495
Mat. How? Marry her, my lord? ’Sfoot, marry a madwoman? Let a man get the tamest wife he can come by, she ’ll be mad enough afterward, do what he can.
Duke. Nay then, Father Anselmo here shall do his best,500 To bring her to her wits; and will you then? Mat. I cannot tell, I may choose. Duke. Nay, then, law shall compel. I tell you, sir. So much her hard fate moves me, you should not breathe Under this air, unless you married her.505 Mat. Well, then, when her wits stand in their right place, I ’ll marry her. Bell. I thank your grace.—Matheo, thou art mine. I am not mad, but put on this disguise, Only for you, my lord; for you can tell510 Much wonder of me; but you are gone: farewell. Matheo, thou didst first turn my soul black, Now make it white again. I do protest, I ’m pure as fire now, chaste as Cynthia’s breast. Hip. I durst be sworn, Matheo, she ’s indeed. Mat. Cony-catcht, gull’d! Must I sail in your fly-boat,516 Because I helpt to rear your main-mast first? Plague ’found[2456] you for ’t, ’t is well. The cuckold’s stamp goes current in all nations, Some men ha’ burns giv’n them at their creations;520 If I be one of those, why so: ’t is better To take a common wench, and make her good, Than one that simpers, and at first will scarce Be tempted forth over the threshold door, Yet in one se’nnight, zounds, turns arrant whore!525 Come wench, thou shalt be mine, give me thy golls,[2457] We ’ll talk of legs hereafter.—See, my lord, God give us joy! All. God give you joy!529
Enter Candido’s wife [Viola] and George.
Geo. Come mistress, we are in Bedlam now; mass and see, we come in pudding-time, for here ’s the duke.
Vio. My husband, good my lord!
Duke. Have I thy husband?534
Cast. It ’s Candido, my lord, he ’s here among the lunatics. Father Anselmo, pray fetch him forth. [Exit Anselmo.] This mad woman is his wife, and though she were not with child, yet did she long most spitefully to have her539 husband mad; and because she would be sure he should turn Jew, she placed him here in Bethlem. Yonder he comes.
Enter Candido with Anselmo.
Duke. Come hither, signor; are you mad? Cand. You are not mad. Duke. Why, I know that.545 Cand. Then may you know I am not mad, that know You are not mad, and that you are the duke. None is mad here but one.—How do you, wife? What do you long for now?—Pardon, my lord:549 She had lost her child’s nose else. I did cut out Pennyworths of lawn, the lawn was yet mine own: A carpet was my gown, yet ’t was mine own: I wore my man’s coat, yet the cloth mine own: Had a crackt crown, the crown was yet mine own.554 She says for this I ’m mad: were her words true, I should be mad indeed. O foolish skill![2458] Is patience madness? I ’ll be a madman still. Vio. Forgive me, and I ’ll vex your spirit no more. [Kneels.] Duke. Come, come, we ’ll have you friends; join hearts, join hands.560 Cand. See, my lord, we are even,— Nay, rise, for ill deeds kneel unto none but Heaven. Duke. Signor, methinks patience has laid on you Such heavy weight, that you should loathe it—— Cand. Loathe it! Duke. For he whose breast is tender, blood so cool,565 That no wrongs heat it, is a patient fool. What comfort do you find in being so calm? Cand. That which green wounds receive from sovereign balm.568 Patience, my lord! why, ’t is the soul of peace; Of all the virtues, ’t is nearest kin to Heaven; It makes men look like gods. The best of men That e’er wore earth about him, was a sufferer, A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, The first true gentleman that ever breath’d. The stock of patience, then, cannot be poor;575 All it desires, it has; what monarch more? It is the greatest enemy to law That can be; for it doth embrace all wrongs, And so chains up lawyers’ and women’s tongues. ’T is the perpetual prisoner’s liberty,580 His walks and orchards: ’t is the bond slave’s freedom, And makes him seem proud of each iron chain, As though he wore it more for state than pain: It is the beggars’ music, and thus sings,584 Although their bodies beg, their souls are kings. O my dread liege! It is the sap of bliss Rears us aloft, makes men and angels kiss. And last of all, to end a household strife, It is the honey ’gainst a waspish wife. Duke. Thou giv’st it lively colours: who dare say590 He ’s mad, whose words march in so good array? ’T were sin all women should such husbands have, For every man must then be his wife’s slave. Come, therefore, you shall teach our court to shine, So calm a spirit is worth a golden mine.595 Wives with meek husbands that to vex them long, In Bedlam must they dwell, else dwell they wrong. Exeunt.