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 Have scared thy husband from the use of wits. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himself rough, rude and wildly. Why bear you these rebukes and answer not? She did betray me to my own reproof. Good people enter and lay hold on him. No, not a creature enters in my house. Then let your servants bring my husband forth. 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. 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. Be patient; for I will not let him stir Till I have used 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. I will not hence and leave my husband here: And ill it doth beseem your holiness To separate the husband and the wife. Be quiet and depart: thou shalt not have him. Complain unto the duke of this indignity. 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. 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. Upon what cause? 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. See where they come: we will behold his death. Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, If any friend will pay the sum for him, He shall not die; so much we tender him. Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess! She is a virtuous and a reverend lady: It cannot