MEL. Damnation!

LORD TOUCH. Monster, dog! your life shall answer this! [Draws and
runs at MELLEFONT, is held by LADY TOUCHWOOD.]

LADY TOUCH. O heavens, my lord! Hold, hold, for heaven's sake.

MEL. Confusion, my uncle! O the damned sorceress.

LADY TOUCH. Moderate your rage, good my lord! He's mad, alas, he's
mad. Indeed he is, my lord, and knows not what he does. See how
wild he looks.

MEL. By heaven, 'twere senseless not to be mad, and see such
witchcraft.

LADY TOUCH. My lord, you hear him, he talks idly.

LORD TOUCH. Hence from my sight, thou living infamy to my name;
when next I see that face, I'll write villain in't with my sword's
point.

MEL. Now, by my soul, I will not go till I have made known my
wrongs. Nay, till I have made known yours, which, if possible, are
greater,--though she has all the host of hell her servants.

LADY TOUCH. Alas, he raves! Talks very poetry! For heaven's sake
away, my lord, he'll either tempt you to extravagance, or commit
some himself.