Cas. Pray, may we see some of those wretched souls,
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 humoured not alike: we have here some,
So apish and fantastic, play with a feather,
And, though ’twould grieve a soul to see God’s image
So blemished and defaced, 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,
Fierce as wild-bulls, untameable as flies,
And these have oftentimes from strangers’ sides
Snatched 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.
Stand off a little, pray; so, so, ’tis well:
I’ll show you here a man that was sometimes
A very grave and wealthy citizen;
Has served a prenticeship to this misfortune,
Been here seven years, and dwelt in Bergamo.
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 throughly vexed.
[Opens a door and then retires: enter 1st Madman, wrapt in a net.
Flu. Alas, poor soul!
Cas. A very old man.
Duke. God speed, father!