Fab. Why, we shall make him mad indeed.

Mar. The house [will] be the quieter.

Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and

bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's mad:

we may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till

our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have

mercy on him: at which time we will bring the device to

the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see,

but see.

[Enter Sir Andrew.]