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Abb.

Ay, but not enough.

Adr.

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 vild and bad.

Abb.

And thereof came it that the man was mad.

The venom clamors of a jealous woman

Poisons more deadly than a mad dog’s tooth.

It seems his sleeps were hind’red 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 hind’red 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