Mel. Miftrefs, upon my life, I tell you true;
I have not breath'd almoft, fince I did fee it.
He cries for you, and vows if he can take you,
To fcorch your face, and to disfigure you.

[Cry within. Hark, hark, I hear him, miftrefs; fly, be gone. Duke. Come, ftand by me, fear nothing: guard with halberds,

Adr. Ay me, it is my

hufbond; witness you,

That he is borne about invifible!

Ev'n now we hous'd him in the abbey here,
And now he's there, paft thought of human reafon.

SCENE V.

Enter Antipholis, and Dromio of Fphefus.

E. Ant. Juftice, moft gracious Duke, oh, grant me

justice.

Even for the fervice that long fince I did thee,

When I beftrid thee in the wars and took

Deep scars to fave thy life, even for the blood
That then I loft for thee, now grant me juftice.
Egeon. Unless the fear of death doth make medote,
I fee my fon Antipholis, and Dromio.

E. Ant. Juftice, fweet Prince, against that woman
there :

She whom thou gav'ft 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 the this day hath fhameless thrown on me.

Duke. Discover how, and thou fhalt find me juft.
E. Ant. This day, great Duke, fhe fhut the doors
upon me;

To SCORCH your face,-] We should read scorсн, i. e. hack, cut.

WARBURTON.

Whilft

Whilft fhe with harlots feafted in my houfe.

Duke. A grievous fault; fay, woman, didft thou fo? Adr. No, my good Lord-myself, he, and my fifter, To day did dine together: fo befal my foul, As this is falfe, he burdens me withal!

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor fleep on night, But fhe tells to your highnefs fimple truth!

Ang. O perjur'd woman! they are both forfworn. In this the mad-man juftly chargeth them.

E. Ant. My Liege, I am advifed, what I fay.
Neither disturb'd with the effect of wine,
Nor, heady-rafh, provok'd with raging ire;
Albeit, my wrongs might make one wifer mad.
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner;
That goldfmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
Could witnefs it; for he was with me then;
Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
Promifing to bring it to the Porcupine,
Where Balthazar and I did dine together.
Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
I went to feek him; in the street I met him,
And in his company that gentleman.

There did this perjur'd goldfmith fwear me down,
That I this day from him receiv'd the chain;
Which, God he knows, I faw not; for the which,

He did arreft me with an officer.

I did obey, and fent my peafant home

For certain ducats; he with none return'd.

Then fairly I bespoke the officer,

To go in perfon with me to my house.

By th' way we met my wife, her sister, and

A rabble more of vile confederates;

They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villain,
A meer anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
A needy, hollow-ey'd, fharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man. This pernicious slave,
Forfooth, took on him as a conjurer;

M 2

And,

And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulfe,
And with no-face, as it were, 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;
'Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds afunder,
I gain'd my freedom, and immediately

Ran hither to your Grace; whom I beseech
To give me ample fatisfaction

For these deep fhames and great indignities.

Ang. My Lord, in truth, thus far I witnefs with him; That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out. Duke. But had he fuch a chain of thee, or no? Ang. He had, my Lord; and when he ran in here, These people faw the chain about his neck.

Mer. Befides, I will be fworn, thefe ears of mine
Heard you confefs, you had the chain of him,
After you first forfwore it on the mart;
And thereupon I drew my fword on you;
And then you fled into this abbey here,
From whence, I think, you're come by miracle.
E. Ant. I never came within these abbey-walls,
Nor ever didft thou draw thy fword on me;
I never faw the chain, fo help me heav'n!
And this is falfe, 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 fo coldly :
You fay, he din'd at home; the goldfmith here
Denies that faying. Sirrah, what fay you?

E. Dro. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Porca-
pine.
Cour. He did, and from my finger fnatch'd that ring.
E. Ant. 'Tis true, my Liege, this ring I had of her.
Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?
Cour. As furé, my Liege, as I do fee your Grace.

Duke.

Duke. Why, this is ftrange; go call the Abbefs

hither;

I think, you are all mated, or stark mad.

[Exit one to the Abbess.

Egeon. Moft mighty Duke, vouchfafe me speak a word:

Haply, I see a friend, will fave my life;
And pay the fum that may deliver me.

Duke. Speak freely, Syracufan, what thou wilt. Ægeon. Is not your name, Sir, call'd Antipholis? And is not that your bond-man Dromio?

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

Ægeon. I am fure, 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?

Ægeon. Why look you ftrange on me? you know me well.

E. Ant. I never faw you in my life, 'till now.
Egeon. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, fince you faw
me last;

And careful hours with time's deformed hand
Have written strange defeatures in my face;
But tell me yet, doft thou not know my voice?
E. Ant. Neither.

Egeon. Dromio, nor thou?

E. Dro. No, trust me, Sir, nor I.

Ægeon. I am fure, thou doft.

E. Dro. I, Sir? but I am fure, I do not: and whatfoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

Strange defeatures. Defeature is the privative of feature.

The meaning is time hath cancelled my features.

M 3

Egeon.

Egeon. Not know my voice! oh, time's extremity! Haft thou fo crack'd and splitted my poor tongue In seven short years, that here my only fon Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares? Tho' now this grained face of mine be hid In fap-confuming winter's drizled fnow, And all the conduits of my blood froze up; Yet hath my night of life fome memory; My wafting lamp fome fading glimmer left, My dull deaf ears a little use to hear: 3 All these old witneffes, I cannot err, Tell me thou art my fon Antipholis.

E. Ant. I never faw my father in my life. Ægeon. But seven years fince, in Syracufa-bay, Thou know'ft, we parted; but, perhaps, my fon, Thou fham'ft t'acknowledge me in mifery.

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

I ne'er faw Syracufa 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 fee, thy age and dangers make thee doat.

Enter the Abbefs, with Antipholis Syracufan, and Dromio Syracufan.

Abb. Moft mighty Duke,

wrong'd.

behold a man much

[All gather to fee him.

Adr. I fee two hufbands, or mine eyes deceive me. Duke. One of thefe men is Genius to the other;

3 All these OLD witneffes, I cannot err,] I believe we fhould read.

All thefe HOLD witnesses I cannot

err,

i. e. All thefe continue to testify that I cannot err, and tell me, &c. WARBURTON.

And