Enter DUKE attended; ÆGEON bare-headed; with the Headsman and other Officers.

Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly,
If any friends will pay the sum for him,
He shall not die, so much we tender him.

Adr. Justice, most sacred duke, against the abboss!

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

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.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. 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;

And ever as it blazed 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 scissars nicks him 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 halberds!

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! O! 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
Ege. 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 me,
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.
Ant. E. This day, great duke, she shut the doors

upon me,

While she with harlots feasted in my house.

Duke. A grievous fault. Say, woman, did'st thou so?

Adr. No, my good lord: myself, he, and my sister,

To-day did dine together. So befal my soul,
As this is false he burdens me withal.

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night,
But she tells to your highness simple truth.
Ang. O perjur'd woman! They are both for-

sworn:

In this the madman justly chargeth them.

Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say;
Neither disturb'd 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 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.
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

My wife, her sister, and a rabble more
Of vile confederates along with them
They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villain,
A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

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, 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

There left me and my man, both bound together;
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 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.

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 did'st 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; If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly: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 liege; 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.

[Erit 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, Syracusian, 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, gnaw'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;
For lately we were bound, as you are now.
You are not Pinch's patient, are you, sir?
Ege. Why look you strange on me? you know
me well.

Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now. Ege. O! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me last;

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. 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, 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. Enter Abbess, with ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, and DROMIO of Syracuse.

Abb. Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd. [All gather to see them. Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me!

Duke. One of these men is Genius to the other; And so of these: which is the natural man, And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?

Dro. S. I, sir, am Dromio: command him away. Dro. E. I, sir, am Dromio: pray let me stay. Ant. S. Ægeon, art thou not? or else his ghost? Dro. S. O, my old master! who hath bound him here?

Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, And gain a husband by his liberty.Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once called Emilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons. O! if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak, And speak unto the same Æmilia!

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 Antipholus', 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 gracious lord.

Dro. E. And I with him.

Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior,

Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.

Ant. S. I, gentle mistress.

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;
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.

Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.
Ant. S. I think it be, sir: I deny it not.
Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.
Ang. I think I did, sir: I deny it not.
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 received from you. And Dromio, my man, did bring them me.

I see, we still did meet each other's man,
And I was ta'en for him, and he for me,
And thereupon these errors are arose.

To

Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. Duke. It shall not need: thy father hath his life. Cour. Sir, I must have that diamond from you. Ant. E. There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer.

Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains go with us into the abbey here, 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 suffered wrong, go, keep us company, And we shall make full satisfaction. Twenty-five years have I but gone in travail Of you, my sons; and 'till this present hour

32

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!

Duke. With all my heart: I'll gossip at this feast. [Exeunt Duke, Abbess, EGEON, Courtesan, 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 all, except the two DROMIO brothers. 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
brother:

I see by you I am a sweet-faced 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!
Dro. S. We'll draw cuts for the senior: till then,
lead thou first.

Dro. E. Nay, then thus:

We came into the world, like brother and brother: And now, let's go hand in hand, not one before [Exeunt.

another.

ACT I.-SCENE I.

It hath in solemn synods been decreed,
Both by the Syracusians and ourselves,

To admit no traffic to our adverse towns," etc. "The offence which Egeon had committed, and the penalty which he had incurred, are pointed out with a minuteness by which the Poet doubtless intended to convey his sense of the gross injustice of such enactments. In the TAMING OF THE SHREW, written most probably about the same period as the COMEDY OF ERRORS, the jealousies of commercial states, exhibiting themselves in violent decrees and impracticable regulations, are also depicted by the same powerful hand.".

The obvious meaning is, that they came "aboard too soon," as a storm immediately followed.

"So his case was like"-"So" is the reading of the first folio-not for, as in many editions: his case was so like that of Antipholus.

"To seek thy HELP by benfiecial HELP"-Pope and other editors would substitute life for "help," where it first occurs. Stevens recommends means for "help," at the end of the line. Collier suggests

To seek thy hope by beneficial help.

That is, to seek what you hope by beneficial help to acquire-money for your ransom. This is consistent with Egeon's exclamation just afterwards,-"Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend," etc. The folios have it as it stands in the text.

SCENE II.

"SOON AT five o'clock"-i. e. About five o'clock. In act iii. scene 2, we have "soon at supper-time." "Soon at night," is a common expression.

"CONFOUNDS himself"-This is explained by what Antipholus afterwards says,

So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself;as a drop is lost in the sea, and confounded with the mass of waters.

"Here comes the ALMANACK of my true date"-i. e. Because he and Dromio were born at the same hour. He mistakes Dromio of Ephesus for his own man.

"Are PENITENT for your default to-day"-In the sense of doing penance.

"SCORE your fault upon my pate"-The reference is here to the custom of keeping a score upon a post, instead of entering the item in a book.

"-is O'ER-RAUGHT OF"-i. e. Over-reached.

ACT II.-SCENE I.

"-some other WHERE"-i. e. Somewhere else, as we now familiarly express it. Johnson suggests that we should read "start some other hare," and Stevens is for taking "where" as a noun; but no alteration is required. Adriana says afterwards, "I know his eye doth homage other where."

"This FOOL-BEGG'D patience"-" She seems," says Johnson, "to mean by 'fool-begg'd patience,' that patience which is so near to idiotical simplicity, that your next relation would take advantage from it to represent you as a fool, and beg the guardianship of your fortune."

This would seem a far-fetched interpretation, were it not evident from other dramatic writers, even as late as Congreve, that this abuse of that regal prerogative was a familiar source of sarcastic allusion.

"and withal so doubtfully, that I could scarce UNDERSTAND them"-i. e. "Stand under them. We have the same quibble in the Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONAMy staff understands me.' Milton does not hesitate to make Belial, in gamesome mood,' use a similar play upon words. (See Paradise Lost,' book vi. 625.)" KNIGHT.

"Am I so ROUND with you, as you with me"-"To be round with any one is to be plain spoken; as, in HAMLET 'Let her be round with him." Dromio uses the word in a double sense, when he alludes to the football."-KNIGHT.

"Whilst I at home STARVE for a merry look"-" In Shakespeare's Forty-seventh Sonnet, there is a similar phrase:

When that mine eye was famished for a look.
Also, in the Seventy-fifth:-

Sometimes all full with feeding on his sight,
And, by and by, clean starved for a look.

"My decayed FAIR"-" Fair" is used for fairness, in the sense of beauty, by the writers of Shakespeare's time, and by himself in his Sonnets.

I see the lewell best enameled

Will loose his beautie: yet the gold bides still
That others touch, and often touching will,
Where gold and no man that hath a name,
By falshood and corruption doth it shame.

The passage is evidently so grossly misprinted, that it is impossible to ascertain precisely the true reading. All the editors, Pope, Warburton, Stevens, etc., have tried their hands at it. We have followed Collier, not as certainly right, but being probably as near as any. The meaning will then be-I see that the jewel best enamelled will lose his beauty: yet though gold that others touch remains gold, an often touching will wear gold; no man with a name willingly shames it by falsehood and corruption.

SCENE II.

"I must get a sCONCE for my head, and INSCONCE it too"-Dromio's joke depends upon the double meaning of "sconce," a head, or, a small fortification. The verb to insconce is used in the old poets for "fortifying one's self."

"May he not do it by FINE and RECOVERY"-In this, (says Knight,) as in all Shakespeare's early plays, and in his Poems, we have the professional jokes of the attorney's office in abundance.

"That never words were MUSIC to thine ear"-Thus imitated by Pope, in his "Sappho to Phaon:"

My music then you could for ever hear,
And all my words were music to your ear.

"Be it my wrong, you are from me EXEMPT"-" Exempt" is here used in the sense of separated or parted; as, in the first part of HENRY VI. :

And by his reason stand'st thou not attainted,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?

“I live DISSTAIN'D"-i. e. Say all the commentators. unstained. All the old editions have disstained; and disstain is universally used by Shakespeare for stain. I therefore think it an error of the press or the copyist for unstained, but have not judged it right to insert this conjecture in the text, against the authority of all editions, old and modern, without the absolute certainty that disstain was never used anciently in this sense.

"Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine”—“When Milton uses this classical image, in Paradise Lost,'— they led the vine

To wed the elm; she, spous'd, about him twines
Her marrriageable arms,-

the annotators of our great epic poet naturally give us the parallel passages in Catullus, in Ovid, in Virgil, and in Horace. Shakespeare unquestionably had the image from the same sources. Farmer does not notice this passage; but had he done so, he would, of course, have shown that there were translations of the Georgics' and the Metamorphoses' when this play was written. It appears to us that this line of Shakespeare's is neither a translation, nor an imitation, of any of the well-known classical passages; but a transfusion of the spirit of the ancient poets by one who was familiar with them."KNIGHT.

"This is the fairy land"—" In the first act we have a description of the unlawful arts of Ephesus. It was observed by Capell, that the character given of Ephesus in this place is the very same that it had with the ancients, which may pass for some note of the Poet's learning.' It was scarcely necessary, however, for Shakespeare to search for this ancient character of Ephesus in more recondite sources than the interesting narrative of St. Paul's visit to that city, given in the xixth chapter of the Acts.' In the 13th verse we find mention of certain of the vagabond Jews, exorcists;' and in the 19th verse we are told that many of them also which used curious arts brought their books together, and burned them before all men.' The ancient proverbial term, Ephesian Letters, was used to express every kind of charm or spell."-KNIGHT.

"We talk with goblins, OWLS, and elvish sprites”— Theobald changed "owls" to ouphes, upon the plea that owls could not suck breath and pinch. Warburton maintains that the owl here is the striz of the ancientsthe destroyer of the cradled infant

Nocte volant, puerosque petunt nutricis egentes, Et vitiant cunis corpora rapta suis.-Ovid. Fasti. lib. vi. "And SHRIVE you"-i. e. Take confession from you. Shrift is confession.

-the doors are MADE against you"-Several editors have altered this, which is the original text, to the doors are barred," supposing "made" to be a misprint; but "make the door" is still a provincial phrase, signifying to "bar the door."

"ONCE this"-" This expression puzzled Malone and Stevens, who did not perceive that it was elliptical, and meant, For once let me tell you this.'"-COLLIER.

"And, in despite of MIRTH, mean to be merry"-The meaning is, says Warburton, "I will be merry even out of spite to mirth, which is now of all things the most unpleasing to me.'