Till knawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, Ran hither to your grace; whom I beseech For these deep shames, and great indignities. Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him; Mer. Besides, I will be sworn, these ears of mine Duke. 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. 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? And is not that your bondman Dromio? Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman, sir, But he, I thank him, knaw'd in two my cords : Now am I Dromio and his man unbound. Ege. I am sure, you both of you remember me. Dro. E. Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you; Ege. Why look you strange on me? you know me well. Ant. E. I never saw you in my life till now. [last; Ege. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me And careful hours, with time's deformedy hand, Have written strange defeatures2 in my face: But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice? Ant. E. Neither. Æge. Dromio, nor thou? Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I. Æge. 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." 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. y deformed-] For deforming.-STEEVENS. strange defeatures] Defeatures are certainly neither more nor less than features; as demerits are neither more nor less than merits. Time, says Ægeon, hath placed new and strange features in my face; i. e. given in quite a different appearance: no wonder therefore thou dost not know me.-RITSON. you are now bound to believe him.] Dromio is still quibbling on his favourite topick.-MALONE. a b my feeble key of untun'd cares?] i. e. The weak and discordant tone of my voice, that is changed by grief.-DOUCE. C this grained face-]i. e. Furrowed, like the grain of wood.-STEEVENS. Ant. E. I never saw my father in my life. Æge. 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 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 Have I been patron to Antipholus, During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa : I see thy age and dangers make thee dote. 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. Dro. S. I, sir, am Dromio; command him away. And gain a husband by his liberty :— Ege. If I dream not, thou art Æmilia; Abb. By men of Epidamnum, he, and I, 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: Ant. S. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse. Duke. Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which. Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle. Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to-day? Adr. And are not you my husband? Ant. E. No, I say nay to that. Ant. S. And so do I, yet did she call me so; : Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me. Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me. Adr. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail, By Dromio; but I think he brought it not. Dro. E. No, none by me. Ant. S. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me : I see, we still did meet each other's man, Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. d Why, here begins his morning story right:] "The morning story" is what Ægeon tells the duke in the first scene of this play.-HOLT WHITE. Duke. It shall not need, thy father hath his life. Ant. E. There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer. Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains To go with us into the abbey here, And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes:- The duke, my husband, and my children both, Go to a gossip's feast, and go with me; After so long grief, such nativity !e Duke. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast. [Exeunt Duke, Abbess, ÆGEON, Courtezan, Merchant, ANGELO, and Attendants. Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from ship board? Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd? Dro. S. Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur. Ant. S. He speaks to me; I am your master, Dromio : Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon: Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him. [Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS S. and E. ADRIANA, and LUCIANA. Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's house, That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner; She now shall be my sister, not my wife. Dro. E. Methinks, you are my glass, and not my I see by you, I am a sweet-faced youth. • After so long grief, such nativity!] She has just said, that to her, her sons were not born till now.-STEEVENS. |