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 bie 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 [Beating him.

you.

Off. Good Sir, be patient.

Dro. E. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.

Of. 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 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 serv'd him from the hour of 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 COURTEZAN, with PINCH, and others.

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

yonder.

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 hus

band mad?

Adr. His incivility confirms no less.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!

*Correct them all.

Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his extacy Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.

Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your

ear.

Pinch. 1 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.
Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace, I am
not mad.

Adr. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul!

Ant. E. You minion you, are these your customers?

Did this companion with a 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?

Adr. O, husband, God doth know, you din'd at home,

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?

Dro. E. Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at home.

Ant. E. Were not my doors lock'd up, and I shut out?

Dro. E. Perdy, your doors were lock'd, and you shut out.

Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there?

Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you

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 jailer, thou,

I am thy prisoner; wilt thou suffer them
To make a rescue?

Offi. 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 offiHast thou delight to see a wretched man [cer? Do outrage and displeasure to himself?

Offi. 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, [it. And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay 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 Good master; cry, the devil.— mad, 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. and DRO.

Adr. And come with naked swords; let's call more help,

To have them bound again.
Offi. 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 you.

Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff* from thence:

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

Enter MERCHANT and ANGELO. Ang. I am sorry, Sir, that I have hinder'd But, I protest, he had the chain of me, [you; Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.

Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the city?

Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,
Ang. Of very reverend reputation, Sir,

His word might bear my wealth at any time.
Second to none that lives here in the city;
Mer. Speak softly: yonder, as I think, he

walks.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse. Ang. "Tis so; and that self chain about his

neck,

Which he forswore, most monstrously, to have.
Good Sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him.
Signior Antipholus, I wonder much [ble;
That you would put me to this shame and trou-
And not without some scandal to yourself,
With circumstance, and oaths, so to deny
This chain, which now you wear so openly:
Besides the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
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:

Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis 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.

drawn, and DROMIO of Syracuse.

Luc. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again.

Foolish. Unhappy for unlucky, i. e. mischievous.

others.

Adr. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake; he is mad:

* Baggage.

Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his
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 reprebended him.

Adr. Why, so I did.

Abb. Ay, but not rough enough.

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 hus-
band forth.

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 us'd the approved means I have,
With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy
prayers,

To make of him a formal man again:*
It is a branch and parcelt 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
And ill it doth beseem your holiness, [here;
To separate the husband and the wife.
Abb. Be quiet, and depart, thou shalt not
have him.
[Exit ABBESS.
Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indig-

nity.

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 thereof 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 rail-
ing:

And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say'st, his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings:

Unquiet meals make ill digestions,
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;
And what's a fever but a fit of madness?
Thou say'st, his sports were hinder'd by thy
brawls:

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 scared thy husband from the use of wits.
Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly,
When he demean'd himself rough, rude, and
wildly,--

1. e. Close, grapple with him.
te. Go into a house. ✰ The theme.

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 death.

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 much 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 husband,

Whom I made lord of me and all I had,
At your importants 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

Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
By rushing in their houses, bearing thence
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,

* I. e. To bring him back to his senses. + Part. Sad. Importunate. II. e. To take measures. 1 Know

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
[mand,
Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy com-
Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for
help.

hence.

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.

And ever as it blazed, 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 himt 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 halberts.

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

I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio,

Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there.

She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife;
That hath abused and dishonour'd nie,
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.

* I. e. Successively, one after another. + I. e. Cuts his hair close.

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, [down,
There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me
Which, God he knows, I saw not for the
That I this day of him receiv'd the chain,
He did arrest me with an officer. [which,
For certain ducats: he with none return'd.
I did obey; and sent my peasant home
To go in person with me to my house.
Then fairly I bespoke the officer,
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, 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 to-
gether;

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 me 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 foreswore 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,

Harlot was a term of reproach applied to cheats among men as well as to wantons among women.

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. Why, 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;
[ly:-
If he were mad, he would not plead so cold-
You say, he dined at home; the goldsmith here
Denies that saying:-Sirrah, what say you?
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 leige, 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.

Ege. 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 ?

Aud 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.
Ege. I am sure, you both of you remember

Ant. E. Neither.

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 believe him.

mity!

Ege. Not know my voice! O, time's extre[tongue, Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor 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 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. Ege. But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy,

Confounded.

bonds,

And gain a husband by his liberty:-
Speak, old Egeon, if thou be'st the man
That had'st a wife once call'd Æmilia,

That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:

O, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak,
And speak unto the same Emilia!

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.

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story

right;*

These two Antiphol uses, these two so like,
And these two Dromios, one in semblance,—
Besides her urging of her wreck 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 gra cious lord.

Dro. E. And I with him.

Ant. E. Brought to this town with that mos

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 you not my husband?
Ant. E. No, I say nay to that.

Ant. S. And so do I, yet did she 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.

The morning story is what Egeon tells the Duke In the first scene of this play

Rr