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's A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, [nail, A nut, a cherry-stone: but she, more covetous, Would have a chain.

Master, be wise: an' if you give it her, [with it. The devil will shake her chain, and fright us Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain: I hope, you do not mean to cheat me so.

Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! come, Dromio,

let us go.

Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: mistress, that you know.

[ereunt Ant. S. and Dro. S. Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad, Else would he never so demean himself: A ring he hath of mine worth 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 hie home to his house, And tell his wife, that, being lunatic,

away;

I'll give thee, ere I leave thec, 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, 'twill 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 Ant. E. But where's the money? [them all. Dro. E. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope. [rope? Ant. E. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a Dro. E. I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate. [home? Ant. E. To what end did I bid thee hle thee Dro. E. To a rope's end, sir; and to that end am I return'd.

94

you.

Ant. E. And to that end, sir, I will welcome [beating him. Off. Good sir, be patient. Dro. E. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.

Off. Good now, hold thy tongue.

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

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 my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service but blows: when I am cold, he heats me with beating: when I am warm, he cools me with beating. I am waked with it, when I sleep; raised with it, when I sit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcomed home with it, when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door. Enter Adriana, Luciana, and the Courtezun, with Pinch, and others.

Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yond

Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, Beware the rope's end.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk?

[beats him.

Cour. How say you now? is not your husband Adr. His incivility confirms no less. [inad? 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 extacy! Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.

ear.

Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your [man, Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this 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. I din'd at home! thou villain, what say'st thou? [home. Dro. E. Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at Ant. E. Were not my doors lock'd up, and I shut out? L [shut out. 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 scorn me? 016021 [scorn'd you. Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal Ant. E. And did not. I in rage depart from

thence?

If any friend will pay the sum for him, He shall not die, so much we tender him.

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 husband,——

Whom I made lord of me and all I had,
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,
Chas'd 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,
And will not suffer us to fetch him out,
Nor send him forth, that we may bear him hence.
Therefore, most gracious dube, with thy command,
Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for
help.
Duke. Long since, thy husband serv'd me in
my wars;

And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,
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.
Enter a Servant.

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 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, 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 scorch 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, it is my husband! Witness you,

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.
Ege. Unless the fear of death doth make me
dote,

I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio.

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,
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,

NEX

While she, with harlots, feasted in my house.
Duke. A grievous fault: say, woman, didst
thou so?
D [sister,
Adr. No, my good lord;-myself, he, and my
To-day did dine together: so befal my soul,
As this is false, he burdens me withal! [night,

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on
But she tells to your highness simple truth!
Ang. O perjur'd woman! They are both for

sworn.

In this the madman justly chargeth them.

Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say; Neither disturb'd with the effect of wine,sim Nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire, Albeit, my wrongs might make some 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, i 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 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-fac'd
A mere anatomy, a mountebank, [villain,
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 'twere, out-facing me,
Cries out, I was possess'd: 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 in sunder,
I gain'd my freedom, and immediately

Ch

Ran hither to your grace; whom I beseech
To give me ample satisfaction

For these deep shames 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. [mine
Mer. Besides, I will be sworn, these ears of
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.
Ant. E. I 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 me withal.

Duke. What an intricate impeach is this!! I think, you all have drank 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?

Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there at the Porcupine. [that ring. Cour. He did, and from my finger snatch'd 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;

4.11

I think, you all are mated, or stark-mad.
[exit an Attendant.
Ege. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak
Haply, I see a friend will save my life, [a word;
And pay the sum that may deliver me.

Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt. Ege. Is not your name, sir, called Antipholus; And is not that your bondman, Dromio?

[sir,

Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords; Now am I Dromio, and his man unbound. [me. Ege. I am sure, you both of you remember 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?
Ege. Why look you strange on me? you know

me well.

Ant. E. I never saw you in my life till now. Ege. O! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me last;

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.
Ege. Dromio, nor thou?

Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I. am sure, thou dost.

Ege.

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 Can witness with me that it is not so; [the city. 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 danger make thee dote. Re-enter the Abbess, with Antipholus, Syracusan; and Dromio, Syracusan.

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. I, sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay. Ant. S. Ægeon, 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 hadst a wife once call'd Æmilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons: O, if thou be'st the same Egeon, speak, And speak unto the same Æmilia!

Ege. 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 them, I cannot tell; I, to this fortune that you see me in.

[right

Duke. Why, here begins this morning story These two Antipholus's, these two so like, And these two Dromio's, one in semblance,Besides her urging of her wreck at 628--