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, Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say; Neither disturb'd 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; There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down, I did obey; and sent my peasant home To go in person with me to my house. F 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 meer anatomy, a mountebank, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller; 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 fled into this abbey here, From whence, I think, you are come by miracle. Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this! Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porcupine. Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd that ring. 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 hither; I think, you are all mated, or stark mad. [Exit an Attendant. Æge. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word; Haply, I see a friend will save my life, And pay the sum that may deliver me. Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt, Ege. 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, cords; But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my Ege. I am sure, you both of you remember me. you; For lately we were bound, as you are now. Ege. Why look you strange on me? you know me well. Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now. Ege. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me last; And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand Ege. Dromio, nor thou? Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I. Ege. 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 helieve him. Ege. Not know my voice! O, time's extre mity! Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue, All these old witnesses (I cannot err,) Ant. E. I never saw my father in my life. Ant. E. The duke, and all that know me in the city, Can witness with me that it is not so; I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life. Duke. I tell thee, Syracusan, twenty years During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa : Enter the Abbess, with Antipholus Syracusan and Dromio Syracusan. Abb. Most mighty Duke, behold a man much [All gather to see him. wrong'd. 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. I, 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 here? Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, And gain a husband by his liberty:- Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man That bore thee at a burden two fair sons: |