Mer. These ears of mine, thou know'st, did hear thee.

Fie on thee, wretch ! 'tis pity that thou liv'st To walk where any honest men resort. [thus: Ant. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me 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, Courtezan, 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 Ant. S. and Dro. S. into the Abbey. Enter the Abbess.

Abb. Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither? [hence. Adr. To fetch my poor distracted husband 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. [the man? Abb. How long hath this possession held 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 at 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
Adr. Why, so I did.
him.
Abb.
Ay, but not rough enough.
Adr. As roughly as my modesty would let
Abb. Haply, in private.
[me.
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 at it:
Still did I tell him it was vile and bad. [mad:
Abb. And therefore came it that the man was
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.

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.

Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himself rough, rude, and wildly.

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 husband forth. [tuary,

Abb. Neither; he took this place for sancAnd 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 parcel 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 hus-
band here:

And ill it doth beseem your holiness
To separate the husband and the wife.
Abb. Be quiet, and depart: thou shalt not
have him.
[Exit.

Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indignity. [feet,

Adr. Come, go: I will fall prostrate at his And never rise until my tears and prayers Have won his grace to come in person hither, And take perforce my husband from the abbess. Sec. Mer. By this, I think, the dial points

at five :

Anon, I'm sure, the duke himself in person
Comes this way to the melancholy vale,
The place of death and sorry execution,
Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
Ang. Upon what cause?

Sec. Mer. To see a reverend Syracusan Who put unluckily into this bay [merchant, Against the laws and statutes of this town, Beheaded publicly for his offence. [his death. Ang. See where they come : we will behold

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 iord 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, anything his rage did like.

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 me, it is my husband: Witness That he is borne about invisible : [you, Even now we hous'd him in the abbey here; And now he's there, past thought of human

reason.

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,

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.
mand

Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy comLet him be brought forth, and borne hence for help.

Duke. Long since thy husband serv'd me in

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 me,
Even in the strength and height of injury:
Beyond imagination is the wrong [me.
That she this day hath shameless thrown on
Duke. Discover how, and thou shalt find me
just.
[doors upon me,
Ant. E. This day, great duke, she shut the
While she with harlots feasted in my house,
Duke. A grievous fault.-Say, woman, didst
[my sister,

thou so?

Adr. No, my good lord: myself, he, and To-day did dine together. So befall my soul, As this is false he burdens me withal!

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on

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 threadbare 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, altogether
They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence,
And in a dark and dankish vault at home
They left me and my man, both bound to-
gether;
[sunder,
Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds in
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,

[out. That he dined not at home, but was lock'd Duke. But had he such a chain of thee, or no? [in here, Ang. He had, my lord; and when he ran These people saw the chain about his neck. Sec. Mer. Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine

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, [this!
Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is
I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup.
If here you hous'd him, here he would have]
been;

say

If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly: You 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. [that ring Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd Ant. E. 'Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her. here? Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey Cour. As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.

Duke. Why, this is strange.-Go call the abbess hither. [Exit an Attendant.

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.
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.

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 knows 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.
Re-enter Abbess, with Antipholus of Syracuse
and Dromio of Syracuse.

Abb. Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd. [All gather to see him.

ceive me!

Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes de[other; Duke. One of these men is Genius to the And so of these: which is the natural man,

away.

[stay.

Dro. E. 1, sir, am Dromio: pray let me Ant. S. Ægeon, art thou not? or else his ghost? [him here? Dre. S. O, my old master! who hath bound Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loose his And gain a husband by his liberty. [bonds, Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once called 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 !

Age. 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 his morning story These two Antipholuses, 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. [gracious lord,Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most Dro. E. And I with him. [famous warrior, Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle. Adr. Which of you two did dine with me Ant. S. I, gentle mistress. [to-day?

[so;

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 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. [of me. Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had Ant. S. I think it be, sir; I deny it not. Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain arrest

ed me.

Ang. I think I did, sir; I deny it not.

life.

[you.

Cour. Sir, I must have that diamond from Ant. E. There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer.

Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the To go with us into the abbey here, [pains And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes;And all that are assembled in this place, That by this sympathized one day's error Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company, And we shall make full satisfaction.-Twenty-five years have I but gone in travail Of you, my sons; nor, till this present hour, My heavy burdens are delivered.The duke, my husband, and my children both, And you the calendars of their nativity, Go to a gossip's feast, and go with me: After so long grief, such nativity! [feast. Duke. With all my heart; I'll gossip at this [Exeunt Duke, Abbess, Egeon, Courtezan, Merchant, Angelo, and Attendants. Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard? [thou embark'd? Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast Dro. S. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur. [master, Dromio: Ant. S. He speaks to me. I am your Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon: Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him. [Exeunt Ant. S. and Ant. E., Adr. and Luc. 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.

I