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Enter a Servant.
Serv. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself!
Adr. Peace, fool; thy master and his man are here;
Serv. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true;
Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, begone.
Adr. Ah me, it is my husband!
Even now we housed him in the abbey here;
Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Ephesus.
Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke, O, grant me justice!
Even for the service that long since I did thee,
Ege. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio.
1 i. e. successively, one after another.
Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there.
She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife;
That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.
While she with harlots 1 feasted in my house.
Duke. A grievous fault. Say, woman, didst thou
Adr. No, my good lord;—myself, he, and my sister,
To-day did dine together. So befall my soul,
Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, But she tells to your highness simple truth!
Ang. O perjured woman! they are both forsworn. In this the madman justly chargeth them.
Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I Neither disturbed with the effect of wine, Nor heady rash, provoked with raging ire, Albeit, my wrongs might make one wiser mad. This woman locked me out this day from dinner; That goldsmith there, were he not packed 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 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 perjured goldsmith swear me down, That I this day of him received the chain,
Which, God he knows, I saw not; for the which,
1 Harlot was a term anciently applied to a rogue or base person among men, as well as to wantons among women. See Todd's Johnson.
He did arrest me with an officer.
I did obey; and sent my peasant home
My wife, her sister, and a rabble more
They brought one Pinch; a hungry, lean-faced villain,
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 locked 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
Ant. E. I never came within these abbey walls,
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 snatched 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
I think you are all mated,1 or stark mad.
[Exit an Attendant. Ege. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word;
Haply I see a friend will save my life,
Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt.
Dro. E. Within this hour, I was his bondman, sir, But he, I thank him, gnawed in two my cords; Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound.
Ege. I am sure, you both of re, 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?
Ege. Why look you strange on me? You know
1 Confounded. See note on Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 1.
Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now.
Ege. Oh! grief hath changed me, since you saw me last;
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face:
Dromio, nor thou?
Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I.
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.1
Ege. Not know my voice! O, time's extremity! Hast thou so cracked and splitted my poor tongue, In seven short years, that here my only son Knows not my feeble key of untuned 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 lamp 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.
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
Enter the Abbess, with ANTIPHOLUS Syracusan, and DROMIO Syracusan.
Abb. Most mighty duke,
behold a man much [All gather to see him.
1 Dromio delights in a quibble, and the word bound has before been the subject of his mirth.
2 Furrowed, lined.