2. Mer. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant,

Who put unluckily into this bay

Against the laws and statutes of this town,
Beheaded publicly for his offence.

125

Ang. See where they come; we will behold his death.

Luc. Kneel to the Duke before he pass the abbey.

Enter DUKE [attended], and EGEON bareheaded, with the Headsman and other Officers.

Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, 180 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. 135 Adr. May it please your grace, Antipholus,

my husband,

Who I made lord 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

By rushing in their houses, bearing thence
Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
Once did I get him bound and sent him home,
Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went 146
That here and there his fury had committed.
Anon, I wot not by what strong escape,
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 pursu'd them; 156
And here the abbess shuts the gates on us,
And will not suffer us to fetch him out,

150

Mess. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself!

My master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor, Whose beard they have sing'd off with brands of fire;

171

And ever, as it blaz'd, they threw on him
Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair.
My master preaches patience to him and the
while

His man with scissors nicks him like a fool, 175
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.

Mess. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true; I have not breath'd almost since I did see it. 181 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!

185

Adr. Ay 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

In this the madman justly chargeth them.

215

Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say,
Neither disturbed with the effect of wine,
Nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire,
Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner.
That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd 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 Porpentine,
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 125
And in his company that gentleman.
There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me

down

That I this day of him receiv'd the chain,
Which, God he knows, I saw not; for the which
He did arrest me with an officer.

I did obey, and sent my peasant home
For certain ducats; he with none return'd.
Then fairly I bespoke the officer
To go in person with me to my house.
By the way we met

230

235

My wife, her sister, and a rabble more
Of vile confederates. Along with them
They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fae'd
villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A threadbare juggler and a fortune-teller,
A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch, 240
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 't were, out facing me,
Cries out, I was possess'd. Then all together 245
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;

250

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,

254

That he din'd 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.
2. Mer. Besides, I will be sworn these ears
of mine

Heard you confess you had the chain of him 200
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.

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, 315
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, 319 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 know me in the city

Can witness with me that it is not so.

I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life.

325

Duke. I tell thee, Syracusian, 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.

And gain a husband by his liberty.
Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man
That hadst a wife once call'd Æmilia
That bore thee at a burden two fair sons.
O, if thou be'st the same Egeon, 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.

340

345

350

355

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right.

360

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.

200

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.
Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail
Of you, my sons; and till this present hour 401
My heavy burden ne'er delivered.

The Duke, my husband, and my children both,
And you the calendars of their nativity,
Go to a gossips' feast, and go with me;
After so long grief, such nativity!

405

Duke. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.

[Exeunt all but Ant. S., Ant. E.,

Dro, S., and Dro. E.

Dro. S. Master, shall I go fetch your stuff from shipboard?

Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd?

Dro. S. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.

410

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 Ant. S. and Ant. E.].
Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's

house,

That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner; 415 She now shall be my sister, not my wife.

Dro. E. Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother.

I see by you I am a sweet-fac'd youth.
Will you walk in to see their gossiping?
Dro. S. Not I, sir; you are my elder.
Dro. E. That's a question: how shall we try

it ?

420