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My mafter preaches patience to him, and the while
His man with sciffars nicks him like a fool :
And, sure, unless you send some present help,
Between them they will kill the conjurer.

Adr. Peace, fool, thy master and his man are here, And that is false, thou dost report to us.

Mel. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true; I have not breath'd almoft, fince I did see it. He cries for you, and vows if he can take you, To fcorch your face, and to disfigure you. (Cry withina Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, be gone. Duke. Come, stand by me, fear nothing: guard with

halberds. Adr. Ay me, it is my husband; witness you, That he is borne about invisible! Ev'n now we hous'd him in the abbey here, And now he's there, past thought of human reason.

Enter Antipholis, and Dromio of Ephesus.
E. Ant. Justice, mot gracious Duke, oh,grantmejustice,
Even for the service that long fince I did thee,
* When I beftrid thee in the wars, and took

Deep scars to save thy life, even for the blood
That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.

Ægeon. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, I see my son Antipholis, and Dromio.

E. Ant. Justice, sweet Prince, against that woman there; She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife; That hath abused and dishonour'd me, Ev'n in the strength and height of injury: Beyond imagination is the wrong, That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.

Duke. Discover how, and thou shalt find me juft.

E. Ant. This day, great Duke, she Ahut the doors upon Whilst the with harlots feafted in

my

house. [me; Duke. A grievous fault; say, woman, didft thou for

Adr. No, my good Lord: myself, he, and my fifter, To-day did dine together : so befal my soul, As this is false, he burdens me withal!

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, But she tells to your Highness simple truth!

Ang. O perjur'd woman! they are both forsworn. In this the madman juftly chargeth them.

E. Ant. My Liege, I am advised, what I say.
Neither disturb’d with the effect of wine,
Nor, heady-rash, provok'd wità raging ire;
Albeit

my wrongs might make one wifer mad.
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner ;
That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with hefy
Could witness it; for he was with me then,
Who parted with me to go ferch a chain,
Promising to bring it to the Porcupine,
Where Balthazar and I did dine together.
Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
I went to seek him; in the street I met him,
And in his company that gentleman.
There did this perjar'd goldsmith swear me dowity
That I this day from him receiv'd the chain;
Which, God he knows, I saw not; for the whichy
He did arrest me with an officer.
I did obey, and sent my peasant home
For certain ducats; he with none return'd.
Then fairly I befpoke the officer,
To go in person with me to my house.
th'

way we met my wife, her sister, and A rabble more of vile confederates; They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villaing A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller, A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch, A living dead man. This pernicious flave, Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer; And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulse, And with no-face, as 'twere, out-facing me, Cries out, I was poffeft. Then all together They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence; And in a dark and dankish vault at home There left me and my man, both bound together;

Ву

"Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds asunder,
I gaind my freedom, and immediately
Ran hither to your Grace; whom I beseech
To give me ample satisfaction
For these deep fames and great indignities.

Ang. My Lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him; That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out.

Duke. But had he such a chain of thee, or no? Ang. He had, my Lord; and when he ran in here, These people saw the chain about his neck.

Mer. Befides, I will be sworn, thefe ears of mine
Heard you confess, you had the chain of him,
After
you

first forswore it on the mart;
And thereupon I drew my sword on you;
And then you Aed into this abbey here,
From whence, I think, you're come by miracle.

E. Ant. I never came within these abbey-walls,
Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me;
I never saw the chain, so help me heav'n!
And this is false, you burden me withal.

Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this ?
I think, you

all have drunk of Circe's cup: If here

you

hous'd him, here he would have been;
If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly :
You say, he din’d at home; the goldsmith here
Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you ?

E. Dro. Sir, he din’d with her there, at the Porcupine.
Cour. He did, and from my finger snatch'd that ring.
E. Ant. 'Tis true, my Liege, this ring I had of her.
Duke. Saw'ft thou him enter at the abbey here?
Cour. As fure, my Liege, as I do fee your

Grace, Duke. Why, this is strange; go call the Abbess hither; I think, you are all mated, or stark mad.

[Exit one to the Abbess. Ægeor. Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe mespeak a word: Haply I see a friend will save my life ; And pay the sum that may deliver me,

Duke. Speak freely, Syracufan, what thou wilt.

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your

Ægeon. Is not your name, Sir, calld Antipholis? And is not that bond-man Dromio?

E. Dro. Within this hour I was his bond-mán, Sir, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords ; Now am I Dromio, and his man unbound.

Ægeon. I am sure, you both of you remember me.

E. Dro. Ourselves we do remember, Sir, by you; For lately we were bound, as you are now. You are not Pinch's patient, are you, Sir?

Æge.Why look you strangeon me? you know me well. E. Ant. I never saw you in my life, 'till now.

Æg. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw melaft;
And careful hours with time's deformed hand
Have written ftrange defeatures in my face;
But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice.?

E. Ant. Neither.
Ægeon. Dromio, nor thou?
E. Dro. No, trust me, Sir, nor I.
Ægeon. I am sure, thou doft.

E. Dro. I, Sir! but I am sure, I do not; and whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

Ægeon. Not know my voice! oh, time's extremity!
Haft thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue
In seven short years, that here my only son
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares?
Tho' now this grained face of mine be hid
In sap-consuming winter's drizled snow,
And all the conduits of my blood froze up;
Yet hath my night of life some mémory;
My wasting lamp fome fading glimmer left,
My dull deaf ears a little use to hear:
All these old witnesses, I cannot err,
Tell me thou art my son Antipholis.

E. Ant. I never saw my father in my life.
Ægeon. But seven years since, in Syracusa-bay,
Thou know'it, we parted; but, perhaps, my son,
Thou sham'ft t'acknowledge me in misery.

E. Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the city, Can witness with me that it is not so:

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I ne'er faw Syracusa in my life.

Duke. I tell thee, Syracufan, twenty years
Have I been patron to Antipholis,
During which time he ne'er faw Syracufa:
I see, thy age and dangers make thee dote.
Enter the Abbels, with Antipholis Syracusan, and Dromio

Syracufan.
Abb. Most mighty Duke, behold a man much wrong’d.

[All gather to see him. Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.

Duke. One of these men is Genius to the other i
And so of these which is the natural man,
And which the spirit? who deciphers them?
S. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio; command him

away.
E. Dro. I, Sir, am Drimio ; pray, let me stay.
S. Ant. Ægeon, art thou not? or else his ghost ?
S. Dro. O, myold master! who hath bound him here?

Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loofe his bonds ;
And gain a husband by his liberty.
Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man,
That hadft a wife once calld Æmilia,
That bore thee at a burden two fair sons ?
Oh, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak;
And speak unto the same Æmilia.

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right:
These two Antipholis's, these two fo like,
And those two Dromio's, one in semblance ;
Befides her urging of her wreck at sea,
*These plainly are the parents to these children,
Which accidently are met together.

Ægeon. If I dream not, thou art Æmilia ;
If thou art she, tell me where is that son
That floated with thee on the fatal raft,

Abb. By men of Epidamnum, he and I,
And'the twin Dromio, all were taken up;
But, by and by, rude fishermen of Corintb
By force took Dromio and my son from them,
And me they left with those of Epidamnum.

What

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