Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes
And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me
To any other trust but that [I am] mad,
Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her followers,
Take and give back [affairs and their dispatch]
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing
As I perceive she does: there's something in't