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 singed 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, while
His man with scissars nicks himt 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:

Guard with halberts.

[Cry within.

Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, be gone.
Duke. Come, stand by me, fear nothing:
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.

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, didst thou so?

Adr. No, my good lord ;-myself, he, and my sister, 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 night,

But she tells to your highness simple truth! Ang. O perjur'd woman! They are both for

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, [down,
There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me
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 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
A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
[villain,
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, outfacing 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 to-
gether;
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 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 foreswore 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,

been;

If he were mad, he would not plead so coldYou 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 leige, this ring I had

of her.

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

Æge. I am sure, you both of you remember Dro. E. Ourselves we do remember, Sir, by

me.

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. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me last;

And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand Have written strange defeaturest 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.
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! [tongue, Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor 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. Ege. But seven years since, in Syracusa,

'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. 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 had'st a wife once call'd Emilia,
That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:
0, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak,
And speak unto the same Æmilia!

Æge. 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;*

7

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.

Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most gra cious lord.

Dro. E. And I with him,

Ant. E. Brought to this town with that mos famous warrior

Duke Menaphen, your most renowned uncle. Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to-day?

Ant. S. I, gentle mistress.
Adr. And are you not 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.

* The morning story is what Ægeon tells the Duke in the first scene of this play X

of me.

you,

And Dromio my man did bring them me:
I see, we still did ineet each other's man,
And I was ta'en for him, and he for me,
And thereupon these Errors are arose.
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 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,

After so long grief, such nativity!

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

[Exeunt DUKE, ABRESS, ÆGEON, COURTEZAN, MERCHANT, ANGELO, and Attendants.

Dro. S. Master, shall I 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.

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 ANTIPHOLUS S. and 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.
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 gossipping?
Dro. S. Not I, Sir; you are my elder..
Dro. E. That's a question: how shall we try

it?

Dro. S. We will draw cuts for the senior: till then, lead thou first.

Dro. E. Nay, then thus: [ther: We came into the world, like brother and broAnd now let's go hand in hand, not one be[Exeunt.

Enter ROSSE.

Who comes here?

Mal. The worthy thane of Rosse.

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes!

So should he look,

That seems to speak things strange.

Rosse. God save the king!

Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane? Rosse. From Fife, great king,

Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.

Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'din proof,;
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: And, to conclude,

The victory fell on us;

Dun. Great happiness!
Rosse. That now

[tion;

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composi-
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' inch,
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall

Tiger:

But in a sieve I'll thither sail,

And, like a rat without a tail,

I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other;

And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.

I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid :**
Weary sev'n-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Show me, show me.
1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,

Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A drum, a drum;

[Drum within.

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about;
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine:
Peace! the charm's wound up.

Enter MACBETH and BANQUO.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores?-What

are these,

So wither'd, and so wild in their attire;
That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to under-

By

stand me,

By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips: -You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.

Macb. Speak, if you can;-What are you? 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee

thane of Cawdor!

Things that do sound so fair? I'the name of
Are ye fantastical or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great pre-
diction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,
That he seems rapts withal; to me you speak
If you can look into the seeds of time,

[not:

And say, which grain will grow, and which

will not;

Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,

Your favours, nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3 Witch. Hail!

1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:

So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!

1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail ! Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me

more :

By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman; and, to be king,
Stands not within the prospect of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting?-Speak, Icharge
you.
[WITCHES vanish.
Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water
has,

And these are of them :---Whither are they va-
nish'd?
Macb. Into the air; and what seem'd cor-
poral melted
[staid!
As breath into the wind-'Would they had
Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak
about?

Or have we eaten of the insane root,||
That takes the reason prisoner?

Much. Your children shall be kings.

* Prophetic sisters. + Supernatural, spiritual. † Estate.