Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner. 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 parings of one's nail,

A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
A nut, a cherry-stone;

But she, more covetous, would have a chain.
Master, be wise: an if you give it her,

The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.
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. [Exeunt ANT. S. and DRO. S. 24

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,
He rush'd into my house, and took perforce
My ring away. This course I fittest choose,
For forty ducats is too much to lose.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.-The Same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and a Jailer. Ant. E. Fear me not, man; I will not break away:

I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, 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 them all.

Ant. E. But where's the money?

Dro. E. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope. 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 hie 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 you. [Beating him.

Jail. Good sir, be patient.

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

Jail. 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 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 wak'd with it, when I sleep; rais'd 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.

Ant. E. Come, go along: my wife is coming yonder.

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the Courtesan, and a Schoolmaster called PINCH.

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

[Beats him.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk?
Cour. How say you now? is not your husband

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

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

Pinch. I 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 were 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,
Whist 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. 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 there. Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?

Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd you.

Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence?

Dro. E. In verity, you did ::-my bones bear witness, That since have felt the vigour of his rage.

Adr. Is't good to soothe him in these contraries? Pinch. It is no shame: the fellow finds his vein, And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy Ant. E. Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to

arrest me.

Adr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you, By Dromio here, who came in haste for it. Dro. E. Money by me! heart and good-will you might;

But, surely, master, not a rag of money.

Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of ducats?

Adr. He came to me, and I deliver'd it.

Luc. And I am witness with her that she did. Dro. E. God and the rope-maker bear me witness, That I was sent for nothing but a rope!

Pinch. Mistress, both man and master is possess'd:

I know it by their pale and deadly looks.
They must be bound, and laid in some dark room.
Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth
to-day,

And why dost thou deny the bag of gold?

Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. Dro. E. And, gentle master, I receiv'd no gold; But I confess, sir, that we were lock'd out. Adr. Dissembling villain! thou speak'st false in both.

Ant. E. Dissembling harlot! thou art false in all, And art confederate with a damned pack To make a loathsome, abject scorn of me; But with these nails I'll pluck out these false eyes,

That would behold in me this shameful sport.

Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
Jail. 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,

And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it. 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 found for nothing? be mad,

good master;

Cry, the devil.—

Luc. God help, poor souls! how idly do they talk.

Cour. When as your husband, all in rage, today

Came to my house, and took away my ring. (The ring I saw upon his finger now,) Straight after did I meet him with a chain.

Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it.-Come, jailer, bring me where the goldsmith is : I long to know the truth hereof at large. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, with his rapier drawn, and DROMIO of Syracuse.

Luc. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again. Adr. And come with naked swords. Let's call

more help,

To have them bound again.

SCENE I.-The Same. Before an Abbey.

Enter Merchant, and ANGELO.

Ang. I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd you; But, I protest, he had the chain of me, Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.

Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the city?
Ang. Of very reverend reputation, sir.
Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,
Second to none that lives here in the city:
His word might bear my wealth at any time.
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

That you would put me to this shame and trouble;
And not without some scandal to yourself,
With circumstance and oaths so to deny
This chain, which now you wear so openly:
Beside 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.

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, Courtesan, and others. Adr. Hold! hurt him not, for God's sake! he is mad.

Some get within him; take his sword away.
Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.
Dro. S. Run, master, run; for God's sake take
a house!

This is some priory :-in, or we are spoil'd.
[Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO, to the Abbey.
Enter the Lady Abbess.

Abb. Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?

Adr. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence. Let us come in, that we may bind him fast, And bear him home for his recovery.

Ang. I knew, he was not in his perfect wits. Mer. I am sorry now, that I did draw on him. Abb. How long hath this possession held the man?

Adr. This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad; And much different from the man he was; But, till this afternoon, his passion Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.

Abb. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea ?

Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye
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 reprehended him. Adr. Why, so I did.

Abb.
Ay, but not rough enough.
Adr. As roughly, as my modesty would let 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 glanc'd 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 railing, And thereof comes it, that his head is light. Thou say'st. his meat was sauc'd with thy up

braidings:

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 scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.