<SPEECH 1><ACT 5><SCENE 1><85%>
<SERVANT>	<86%>
	O mistress, mistress! shift and save yourself!
	My master and his man are both broke loose,
	Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor,
	Whose beard they have sing'd off with brands of fire;
	And ever as it blaz'd they threw on him
	Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair.
	My master preaches patience to him, and the while
	His man with scissors nicks him like a fool;
	And sure, unless you send some present help,
	Between them they will kill the conjurer.
</SERVANT>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 5><SCENE 1><86%>
<SERVANT>	<86%>
	Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true;
	I have not breath'd almost, since I did see it.
	He cries for you and vows, if he can take you,
	To scotch your face, and to disfigure you.
<STAGE DIR>
<Cry within.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Hark, hark! I hear him, mistress: fly, be gone!
</SERVANT>

