That time comes stealing on by night and day?
If he be in debt, and theft, and a sergeant in the
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd;
And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Dro. S. Some devils ask but the paring of one
A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
A nut, a cherry-stone: but she, more covetous,
Would have a chain.
Adr. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it Master, be wise; an' if you give it her,
And bring thy master home immediately.
Come, sister; I am press'd down with conceit;
Conceit, my comfort, and my injury.
SCENE III.-The same.
Enter Antipholus of Syracuse.
Ant. S. There's not a man I meet but doth salute
As if I were their well-acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy:
Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And, therewithal, took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.
Enter Dromio of Syracuse.
Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: What, have you got [rid of] the picture of Old Adam new apparelled?
Ant. S. What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?
The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with
Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain=
Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch!
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. [us go.
Come, Dromio, let
Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock; Mistress,
that you know. [Exeunt Ant. S. and Dro. S.
Else would he never so demean himself:
Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad,
A ring he hath of mine worthy forty ducats,
And for the same he promis'd me a chain;
Both one, and other, he denies me now.
The reason that I gather he is mad,
(Besides this present instance of his rage,)
Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner,
Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.
Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,
On purpose shut the doors against his way.
My way is now, to nie home to his house,
And tell his wife, that, being lunatic,
He rush'd into my house, and took perforce
My ring away: This course I fittest choose;
For forty ducats is too much to lose.
SCENE IV.-The same. ?
Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, and an Officer.
Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes, Ant. E. Fear me not, man, I will not break away: in the calf's-skin that was killed for the prodigal; he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.
Ant. S. I understand thee not. Dro. S. No? why, 't is a plain case: he that went like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace, than a morris-pike.
Ant. S. What! thou mean'st an officer?
Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he, that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, 'God give you good rest!
Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay: Here are the angels that you sent for, to deliver you.
Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I ;
And here we wander in illusions;
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
Cour. Well met, well met, master Antipholus. see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
Is that the chain you promis'd me to-day?
I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money
To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to-day;
And will not lightly trust the messenger:
That I should be attach'd in Ephesus,
I tell you, 't will sound harshly in her ears.—
Enter Dromio of Ephesus, with a rope's end.
Here comes my man; I think he brings the money.
How now, sir? have you that I sent you for?
Dro. E. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all.
Ant. E. But where 's the money?
Dro. E. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope?
Ant. E. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope.
Dro. E. I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate.
Ant. E. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?
Dro. E. To a rope's end, sir; and to that end am
I return'd.
Ant. E. And to that end, sir, I will welcome you.
Off. Good sir, be patient.
[Beating him.
Dro. E. Nay, 't is for me to be patient; I am in
Off. Good now, hold thy tongue. [adversity.
Dro. E. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands.
Ant. E. Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
Dro. E. I would I were senseless, sir, that I might
not feel your blows.
Ant. E. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass.
Dro. E. I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have served him from the hour of
Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee tempt me my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his
Dro. S. Master, is this mistress Satan?
Ant. S. It is the devil.
hands for my service, but blows: when I am cold, he heats me with beating: when I am warm, he Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; cools me with beating: I am waked with it, when I and here she comes in the habit of a light wench; sleep; raised with it, when I sit; driven out of doors and thereof comes, that the wenches say, 'God with it, when I go from home; welcomed home with damn me,' that's as much as to say, 'God make me it, when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, a light wench. It is written, they appear to men as a beggar wont her brat: and, I think, when he like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door. fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come [sir. Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, Will you go with me? We ll mend our dinner here. Dro. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, so bespeak a long spoon. Ant. S. Why, Dromio Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoor. that must eat with the devil.
Ant. S. Avoid thee, fiend! what tell'st thou me of
Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress : [supping?
I conjure thee to leave ine, and be gone.
Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Enter Adriana, Luciana, and the Courtezan,
with Pinch, and others.
Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder. or rather to prophesy, like the parrot, 'Beware the Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end; rope's end.' Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk? [Beats him. Adr. His incivility confirms no less. Cour. How say you now? is not your husband mad? Good doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer; Establish him in his true sense again, And I will please you what you will demand.
Luc. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks! Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his extasy! Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse. Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear. Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man, To yield possession to my holy prayers, And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight; I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven. [mad. Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace; I am not Adr. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul! Ant. E. You minion, you, are these your customers? Did this companion with the saffron face Revel and feast it at my house to-day, Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut, And I denied to enter in my house? [home, Adr. O husband, God doth know, you din'd at Where 'would you had remain'd until this time, Free from these slanders, and this open shame! Ant. E. Din'd at home! Thou villain, what say'st
Dro. E. Perdy, your doors were lock'd and you
Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there?
Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you there.
Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and
Lyou.
Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd
Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence?
Dro. E. In verity, you did;-my bones bear witness,
That since have felt the vigour of his rage.
Adr. Is 't good to sooth him in these contraries?
Pinch. It is no shame; the fellow finds his vein,
And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy.
Ant. E. Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith
Adr. Alas! I sent you money to redeem you, By Dromio here, who came in haste for it. Dro. E. Money by me? heart and good-will you But, surely, master, not a rag of money. [might, Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of Adr. He came to me, and I deliver'd it. [ducats? Luc. And I am witness with her, that she did. Dro. E. God and the rope-maker, bear me witness, That I was sent for nothing but a rope! Pinch. Mistress, both man and master is possess'd; I know it by their pale and deadly looks: They must be bound, and laid in some dark room. Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day?
And why dost thou deny the bag of gold?
Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. Dro. E. And, gentle master, I receiv'd no gold; But I confess, sir, that we were lock'd out.
Adr. Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in both. Ant. E. Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all; And art confederate with a damned pack, To make a loathsome abject scorn of me: But with these nails I'll pluck out these false eyes, That would behold in me this shameful sport. (Pin, and his Assistants bind Ant. E. and Dro.E. Adr. O, bind him, bind him, let him not come near Pinch. More company; the fiend is strong within [him. Luc. Ah me, poor man! how pale and wan he looks! Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, I am thy prisoner: wilt thou suffer them [thou, To make a rescue? Off. Masters, let him go: He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him. Pinch. Go, bind this man, for he is frantic too. Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer? Hast thou delight to see a wretched man Do outrage and displeasure to himself? Of He is my prisoner; if I let him go, The debt he owes will be requir'd of me.
Adr. I will discharge thee, ere I go from thee: Bear me forthwith unto his creditor, And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it. Good master doctor, see him safe convey'd Home to my house. O most unhappy day! Ant. E. O most unhappy strumpet! Dro. E. Master, I am here enter'd in bond for you. Ant. E. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me?
Dro. E. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, good master; cry, the devil.—
Luc. God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk! Adr. Go bear him hence.-Sister, go you with me.--[Exeunt Pinch and Assistants, with Ant. E. and Dro. E.
Say now, whose suit is he arrested at?
Of One Angelo, a goldsmith. Do you know him?
Adr. I know the man: What is the sum he owes?
Off. Two hundred ducats.
Adr.
Say, how grows it due!
Off. Due for a chain your husband had of him.
Adr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.
Cour. When as your husband, all in rage, to-day,
Came to my house, and took away my ring,
(The ring I saw upon his finger now,)
Straight after, did I meet hiin with a chain.
Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it :-
Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is ;
I long to know the truth hereof at large.
Enter Antipholus of Syracuse, with his rapier drawn, and Dromio of Syracuse.
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Luc. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again. Adr. And come with naked swords; let 's call To have them bound again. [more help, Away, they 'll kill us. [Exeunt Officer, Adr. and Luc. Ant. S. I see, these witches are afraid of swords. Dro. S. She, that would be your wife, now ran from [thence: Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from I long that we were safe and sound aboard. Dro. S. Faith, stay here this night, they will surely do us no harm; you saw they speak us fair, give us gold: methinks, they are such a gentle nation, that but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still, and turn witch.
Ant. S. I will not stay to-night for all the town; Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard. [Exeunt.
SCENE I.-The same.
Enter Merchant and Angelo.
Ang. I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd you;
But, I protest, he had the chain of me,
Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.
Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the city!
Ang. Of very reverend reputation, sir,
Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,
Second to none that lives here in the city;
His word might bear my wealth at any time.
Mer. Speak softly: yonder, as I think, he walks.
Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse.
Ang. 'T is so; and that self chain about his neck,
Which he forswore, most monstrously, to have.
Signior Antipholus, I wonder much
Good sir, draw near to me, I 'll speak to him.
And not without some scandal to yourself,
That you would put me to this shame and trouble;
With circumstance and oaths, so to deny
Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
This chain, which now you wear so openly:
You have done wrong to this my honest friend;
Who, but for staying on our controversy,
Had hoisted sail, and put to sea to-day:
This chain you had of me, can you deny it?
Ant S. I think I had; I never did deny it...
Mer. Yes, that you did, sir; and forswore it too.
Ant. S. Who heard me to deny it, or forswear it?
Mer. These ears of mine, thou knowest, did hear
thee:
Fye on thee, wretch! 't is pity, that thou liv'st
To walk where any honest men resort.
Ant. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty
Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand.
Mer. I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.
[They draw
Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and others. Adr. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake; he is Some get within him, take his sword away: [mad,
Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.
Dro. S. Run, master, run; for God's sake, take a
house.
This is some priory.-In, or we are spoiled.
[Exeunt Ant. S. and Dro. S. to the Priory.
Enter the Abbess.
Abb. Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you
hither?
Adr. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence:
Let us come in, that we may bind him fast,
And bear him home for his recovery.
Ang. I knew he was not in his perfect wits.
Mer. I am sorry now that I did draw on him.
Abb. How long hath this possession held the man?
Adr. This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad,
And much different from the man he was;
But, till this afternoon, his passion
Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.
Abb. Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack of sea?
Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye
Stray'd his affection in unlawful love?
A sin, prevailing much in youthful men,
Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.
Which of these sorrows is he subject to?
Adr. To none of these, except it be the last;
Namely, some love, that drew him oft from home.
Abb. You should for that have reprehended him.
Adr. Why, so I did.
Ay, but not rough enough.
Adr. As roughly as my modesty would let me.
Abb. Haply, in private.
Adr.
And in assemblies too.
Abb. Ay, but not enough.
Adr. It was the copy of our conference:
In bed, he slept not for my urging it;
At board, he fed not for my urging it;
Alone, it was the subject of my theme;
In company, I often glanced it;
Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.
Abb. And therefore came it that the man was mad:
The venom clamours of a jealous woman
Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
It seems, his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing:
And thereof comes it, that his head is light.
Thou say'st, his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraid-
Unquiet meals make ill digestions,
[ings:
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;
And what's a fever but a fit of madness?
Abb. Be quiet, and depart, thou shalt not have hin.
[Exit Abbess.
Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indignity.
Adr. Come, go; I will fall prostrate at his feet,
And never rise until my tears and prayers
Have won his grace to come in person hither,
And take perforce my husband from the abbess.
Mer. By this, I think, the dial points at five:
Anon, I'm sure, the duke himself in person
Comes this way to the melancholy vale,-
The place of death and sorry execution,
Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
Ang. Upon what cause?
Mer. To see a reverend Syracusan merchant,
Who put unluckily into this bay
Against the laws and statutes of this town,
Beheaded publicly for his offence.
Ang. See, where they come; we will behold his
Luc. Kneel to the duke, before he pass the abbey.
Enter Duke, attended; Ægeon, bare-headed; with
the Headsman and other Officers.
Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly,
If any friend will pay the sum for him,
He shall not die, so inuch we tender him.
Adr. Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess!
Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend lady;
It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.
Adr. May it please your grace, Antipholus, my
Whom I made ford of me and all I had, [husband,-
At your important letters,-this ill day
A most outrageous fit of madness took him;
That desperately he hurried through the street,
(With him his bondman, all as mad as he,)
Doing displeasure to the citizens
By rushing in their houses, bearing thence
Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
Once did I get him bound, and sent him home,
Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went,
That here and there his fury had committed.
Anon, I wot not by what strong escape,
He broke from those that had the guard of him;
And, with his mad attendant and himself,
Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords,
Met us again, and, madly bent on us,
Chased us away; till, raising of more aid,
We came again to bind them: then they fled
Into this abbey, whither we pursued them;
And here the abbess shuts the gates on us,
Thou say'st, his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls: And will not suffer us to fetch him out,
Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue
But moody and dull melancholy,
Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop
Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life?
In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest
To be disturb'd, would mad or man, or beast:
The consequence is then, thy jealous fits
Have scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.
Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly,
When he demean'd himself rough, rude and wildly.
Why bear you these rebukes, and answer not?
Adr. She did betray me to my own reproof.-
Good people, enter, and lay hold on him.
Abb. No, not a creature enters in my house.
Adr. Then, let your servants bring my husband
Abb. Neither; he took this place for sanctuary,
And it shall privilege him from your hands,
Till I have brought him to his wits again,
Or lose my labour in assaying it.
Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse,
Diet his sickness, for it is my office,
And will have no attorney but myself;
And therefore let me have him home with me.
Abb. Be patient: for I will not let him stir,
Till I have used the approved means I have,
With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers
To make of hiin a formal man again:
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
A charitable duty of my order;
Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.
Adr. I will not hence, and leave my husband here;
And ill it doth beseem your holiness,
To separate the husband and the wife.
Nor send him forth, that we may bear him hence.
Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command,
Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help.
Duke. Long since, thy husband serv'd me in my
And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,
[wars;
When thou didst make him master of thy bed,
To do him all the grace and good I could.
Go, some of you, knock at the abbey-gate,
And bid the lady abbess come to me;
I will determine this, before I stir.
Serv. 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 singed off with brands of fire;
And ever as it blazed, 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 scissars 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.
Serv. 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 :"
[Cry within. Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, be gone. Duke. Come, stand by me, fear nothing: Guard with halberds.
Adr. Ah me, it is my husband! Witness you
That he is borne about invisible:
Even now we hous'd him in the abbey here;
And now he 's there, past thought of human reason.
Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Ephesus. Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke, oh, grant me justice!
Even for the service that long since I did thee,
When I bestrid 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!
Age. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote,
I see my son Antipholus and Dromio.
Ant. É. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman
She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife; [there.
That hath abused and dishonoured me,
Even 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 just.
Ant. E. This day, great duke, she shut the doors
upon me,
While she with harlots feasted in my house.
Duke. A grievous fault: Say, woman, didst thou so?
Adr. No, my good lord;-myself, he, and my sister,
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 justly chargeth them.
Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say;
Neither disturbed with the effect of wine,
Nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire,
Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner:
That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
Could witness it, for he was with me then;
Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
Promising to bring it to the Porpentine,
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 perjur'd goldsmith swear me down,
That I this day of him receiv'd the chain,
Which, God he knows, I saw not: for the which,
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 bespoke the officer,
To go in person with me to my house.
By the way we met
My wife, her sister, and a rabble more
Of vile confederates; along with them
They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain,
A mere anatoiny, a mountebank,
A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller;
A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man: this pernicious slave,
Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer,
And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no face, as 't were, outfacing me,
Cries out, I was possess'd: then altogether
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;
Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder,
I gain'd my freedom, and immediately
Ran hither to your grace; whom I beseech
To give ine ample satisfaction
For these deep shames, and great indignities.
Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him,
That he dined 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. Besides, I will be sworn, these 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 filed into this abbey here,
From whence, I think, you are come by miracle.
Ant. E. 1 never came within these abbey walls,
Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me;
I never saw the chain, so help me heaven!
And this is false you burden ine withal.
Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this!
I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup.
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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? Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porpentine. (ring.
Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd that
Ant. E. 'Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of her.
Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?
Cour. As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.
Duke. Why, this is strange :-Go call the abbess
I think, you are all mated, or stark mad. [hither;
[Exit an Attendant.
Ege. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a
Haply, I see a friend will save my life, [word;
And pay the sum that may deliver me.
Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt.
Age. Is not your name, sir, call'd Antipholus!
And is not that your bondman Dromio?
Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman, sir,
But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords:
Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound.
Age. I am sure you both of you remember me.
Dro. E. 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?
Age. Why look you strange on me? you know me
well.
Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now.
Age. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face:
But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
Ant. E. Neither. Age. Dromio, nor thou?
Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I.
Æge. I am sure thou dost. Dro. E. Ay, sir? but I am sure I do not; and whatsoever a man denies you are now bound to believe him.
Ege. Not know my voice! O, Time's extremity ! Hast 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? Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, And all the conduits of my blood froze up, Yet hath my night of life some memory, My wasting lamps some 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 Antipholus. Ant. E. I never saw my father in my life. Ege. But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy, Thou know'st we parted: but, perhaps, my son, Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery. Ant. E. The duke, and all that know me in the Can witness with me that it is not so;
I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life.
Duke. I tell thee, Syracusan, twenty years
Have I been patron to Antipholus,
During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa.
I see, thy age and dangers make thee dote.
Enter the Abbess, with Antipholus of Syracuse,
and Dromio of Syracuse.
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;
And so of these: Which is the natural man,
And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?
Dro. S. I, sir, am Dromio; command him away.
Dro. E. 1, sir, am Dromio; pray, let me stay.
Ant. S. Egeon, art thou not? or else his ghost?
Dro. S. O, my old master, who hath bound him
Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, And gain a husband by his liberty: Speak, old geon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once call'd Æmilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons: O, if thou be'st the same Ageon, speak, And speak unto the same Amilia! Age. 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 Corinth
By force took Dromio and my son from them,
And me they left with those of Epidamnum:
What then became of thein I cannot tell;
I, to this fortune that you see me in.
Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right.
These two Antipholuses, these two so like,
And these two Dromios, one in semblance,-
Besides her urging of her wrack at sea,-
These are the parents to these children,
Which accidentally are met together.
Antipholus, thou cam'st from Corinth first?
Ant. S. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.
Duke. Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which.
Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most gracious
Dro. E. And I with him.
[lord.
Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior
Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.
Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to-day?
Ant. S. I, gentle mistress.
Adr.
And are not you my husband?
Ant. E. No, I say nay to that.
Ant. S. And so do I, yet she did call me so,
And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,
Did call me brother:-What I told you then,
I hope I shall have leisure to make good;
If this be not a dream I see and hear.
Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.
Ant. S. I think it be, sir; I deny it not.
Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.
Ang. I think I did, sir; I deny it not.
Adr. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail,
By Dromio; but I think he brought it not.
Dro. E. No, none by me.
Ant. S. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me: I see, we still did meet each other's man, And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, And thereupon these Errors are arose.
Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. Duke. It shall not need; thy father hath his life. Cour. Sir, I must have that diamond from you. Ant. E. There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer.
Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pairs
To go with us into the abbey here,
And here at large discoursed all our fortunes:
And all that are assembled in this place,
That by this sympathized one day's error
Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company,
And we shall make full satisfaction.
Twenty-five years have 1 but gone in travail
Of you, my sons; and, till this present hour,
My heavy burden ne'er delivered:
The duke, my husband, and my children both,
And you the calendars of their nativity,
Go to a gossip's feast, and joy with me;
After so long grief, such festivity!
Duke. With all my heart I 'll gossip at this feast.
[Exeunt Duke, Abbess, Egeon, Courtezan,
Merchant, Angelo, and Attendants.
Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from ship-
board?
[bark'd?
Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou em-
Dro. S. Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the
Centaur.
[Dromio:
Ant. S. He speaks to me; I am your master,
Come, go with us; we 'll look to that anon:
Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.
[Exeunt Ant. S. and E., Adr. and Luc.
Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's house,
That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner;
She now shall be my sister, not my wife.
Dro. E. Methinks you are my glass, and not my
I see, by you, I am a sweet-faced youth. [brother:
Will you walk in to see their gossiping?
Dro. S. Not I, sir; you are my elder.
Dro. E. That's a question: how shall we try it? Dro. S. We will draw cuts for the senior: till then, Dro. E. Nay, then thus: [lead thou first. We came into the world like brother and brother: And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another. [Exeunt.
BEATRICE, niece to Leonato.
followers of Don MARGARET, gentlewomen at
URSULA, Stending on Hero.
Messengers, Watch, and Attend
DON PEDRO, Prince of Arragon. | BALTHAZAR, servant to Don | HERO, daughter to Leonato.
DON JOHN, his bastard brother. Pedro.
CLAUDIO, a young lord of Flo- BORACHIO,
rence, favourite of Don Pedro. CONRADE,
BENEDICK, a young lord of Pa- DOGBERRY,
dua, favourite likewise of Don VERGES,
Pedro.
A Sexton.
LEONATO, governor of Mes- A Friar.
ANTONIO, his brother. [sina. A Boy.
SCENE I.-Street in Messina.
Enter Leonato, Hero, Beatrice, and others, with a Messenger.
Leon. I learn in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina. Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him.
Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio.
Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better
bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how.
Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.
Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.
Leon. Did he break out into tears?
Mess. In great measure.
Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping!
Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no?
Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was
none such in the army of any sort.
Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece?
Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick of Padua.
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