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Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and a schoolmaster call’d Pinch.

E. Ant. Come go along, my wife is coming yonder.

E. Dro. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end, or rather, the prophecy like the parrot, ‘beware the rope’s end.’

E. Ant. Wilt thou still talk?

Beats Dromio.

Cour.

How say you now? Is not your husband mad?

Adr.

His incivility confirms no less.

Good Doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer,

Establish him in his true sense again,

And I will please you what you will demand.

Luc.

Alas, how fiery, and how sharp, he looks!

Cour.

Mark, how he trembles in his ecstasy!

Pinch.

Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.

E. Ant.

There is my hand, and let it feel your ear.

Strikes Pinch.

Pinch.

I charge thee, Sathan, hous’d within this man,

To yield possession to my holy prayers,

And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight:

I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven!

E. Ant.

Peace, doting wizard, peace! I am not mad.

Adr.

O that thou wert not, poor distressed soul!