Ant. S. What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean?

Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: Mistress, that you know. [Exeunt Ant. and Dro. Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad,

Dro. S. Not that Adam, that kept the paradise, but that Adam, that keeps the prison: he that goes Else would he never so demean himself: in the calf's-skin that was kill'd for the prodigal; A ring he hath of mine, worth forty ducats, he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, And for the same he promis'd me a chain ! and bid you forsake your liberty.

Ant. §. I understand thee not.

Both one, and other, he denies me now.

The reason that I gather he is mad,

Dro. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went (Besides this present instance of his rage,) like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, Is a mad tale, he told to-day at dinner, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. and 'rests them: he, sir, that takes pity on decayed Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,

men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets

up his rest to do more exploits with his mace, than a morris-pike.

Ant. S. What! thou mean'st an officer?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he, that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his band: one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, God give you good rest.

Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone?

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.
SCENE IV. -The same. Enter Antipholus of
Ephesus, and an Officer.

[Erit.

Ant. E. Fear me not, man, I will not break away;

Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for. and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to My wife is in a wayward mood to-day; tarry for the hoy, Delay: Here are the angels that

you sent for, to deliver you.

Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I;
And here we wander in illusions;
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!

Enter a Courtezan.

Cour. Well met, well met, master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now;
Is that the chain, you promis'd me to-day?

Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me

not!

Dro. S. Master, is this mistress Satan?
Ant. S. It is the devil.

Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench; and thereof comes, that the wenches say, God damn me, that's as much as to say, God make me a light wench. It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn; Come not near her.

Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.

Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here. Dro. S. Master, if you do expect spoon-meat, bespeak a long spoon.

Ant. S. Why, Dromio?

Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon, that must eat with the devil.

Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping?

Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress :

I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone.

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.1

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
[Beating him.

you.

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

Off. 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 nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service, but blows: when I am cold,

Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at he heats me with beating: when I am warm, he dinner,

Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd;
And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.

cools me with beating: I am waked with it, when I sleep; raised with it, when I sit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcomed

Dro. S. Some devils ask but the paring of one's home with it, when I return: nay, I bear it on my

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; and 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.

shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think,
when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from
door to door.

Enter Adriana, Luciana, and the Courtezan, with
Pinch, and others.

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

(1) Correct them all.

Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your I know it by their pale and deadly looks: end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, Be- They must be bound, and laid in some dark room. ware the rope's end.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk?

[Beats him. 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 ecstasy!
Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your
pulse.

ear.

Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your
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 wert not, poor distressed soul! Ant. E. You minion you, are these your customers?

Did this companion' with a saffron face 'Revel and feast it at my house to-day, Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut,

And I denied to enter in my house?

home,

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.

Luc. Ah me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!

Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou
gaoler, thou,

I am thy prisoner; wilt thou suffer them
To make a rescue?

Off.
Masters, let him go;
He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
Pinch. Go, bind this man, for he is frantic too.
Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?

Adr. O, husband, God doth know, you din'd at Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
Where 'would you had remain'd until this time,
Free from these slanders, and this open shame!

Ant. E. I 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. 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 sooth 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.

Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
Off. 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

Cour. When as your husband, all in rage, to-day Came to my house, and took away my ring, (The ring I saw upon his finger now,)

Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of Straight after, did I meet him with a chain.

ducats?

Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it:Come, gaoler, 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,

(5) Foolish.

(6) Unhappy for unlucky, i. e. mischievous.

To have them bound again.
Off.
Away, they'll kill us.
[Exeunt Off. Adr. and Luc.
Ant. S. I see, these witches are afraid of swords.
Dro. S. She, that would be your wife, now ran
from you.

Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff
from thence:

Enter the 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?

I long, that we were safe and sound aboard. Dro. S. Faith, stay here this night, they will surely do us no harm; you saw, they speak us fair, Adr. This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad, give us gold: methinks, they are such a gentle And much, much different from the man he was; nation, that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that But, till this afternoon, his passion claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.

stay here still, and turn witch.

Ant. S. I will not stay to-night for all the town: Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The same.
Angelo.

Abb. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck at

sea?

[Exe. Bury'd 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 :

Enter Merchant and Namely, some love, that drew him oft from home.
Abb. You should for that have reprehended him.
Adr. Why, so I did.
Abb.

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:
Besides 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, 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.

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 glanced 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 hindered by thy railing;
And thereof comes it that his head is

light.

Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraid

ings:

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 scared thy husband from the use of wits.
Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly,
When he demeaned 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.

Abb. Neither; he took this place for sanctuary,
And it shall privilege him from your hands,
Till I have brought him to his wits again,

Dro. S. Run, master, run; for God's sake, take Or lose my labour in assaying it.

a house.

This is some priory;-In, or we are spoil'd.

Exeunt Ant. and Dro. to the priory.

(2) i. e. Close, grapple with him.

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.

Duke. Why, this is strange: -Go call the abbess hither;

I think you are all mated, or stark mad.

[Exit an attendant.

Æge. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak
a word;

Haply I see a friend will save my life,
And pay the sum that will deliver me.

Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt.
Æge. Is not your name, sir, call'd Antipholus?
And is not that your bondman Dromio ?

There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords;

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.

Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman, sir,

Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound.

Æge. 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?

Æge. Why look you strange on me? you know

me well.

Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now.
Æge. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you

And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,

Of vile confederates; along with them

lain,

saw me last;

They brought one Pinch; a hungry lean-fac'd vil- Have written strange defeature's in my face:

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 conjuror;

And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no fare, as 'twere, outfacing me,
Cries out, I was possess'd: then all together
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 immédiately

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 dined 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 didst thou draw the 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.

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.

Æge. 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 lamp 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, 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.
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. 1, 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,
(3) Furrowed, lined.