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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. Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or for my diamond the chain you promis'd,
And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
But she, more covetous, would have a chain,
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.
Dro. S. Fly pride,' says the peacock; mistress, that you know.
Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse. Cour. Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad, Else would he never so demean himself. A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, And for the same he promis'd me a chain: Both one and other he denies me now. The reason that I gather he is mad, Besides this present instance of his rage, Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner,
I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money,
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.
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 returned.
Ant. E. And to that end, sir, I will welcome you. Beats him. Off. Good sir, be patient.
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 served him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm, he 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 home with it when I return; nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door.
Ant. E. Come, go along: my wife is coming
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.
Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your Strikes him. Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man,
To yield possession to my holy prayers,
Adr. O! that thou wert not, poor distressed soul. Ant. E. You minion, you, are these your cus tomers?
Did this companion with the saffron face
Adr. O husband, God doth know you din'd at home;
Where would you had remain'd until this time, Free from these slanders and this open shame! Ant. E. Dined 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. Perdy, your doors were lock'd and you shut out.
Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?
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 soothe 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.
Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of ducats?
Adr. He came to me, and I delivered it.
Luc. And I am witness with her that she did. Dro. E. God and the rope-maker bear me witness
That I was sent for nothing but a rope!
Pinch. Mistress, both man and master is possessed:
I know it by their pale and deadly looks. 100 They must be bound and laid in some dark room. 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.
Pinch. More company! the fiend is strong within him.
Luc. Ay me! poor man, how pale and wan he looks!
Enter three or four, and bind ANTIPHOLUS
Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, thou,
I am thy prisoner: wilt thou suffer them
Of. 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,
Dro. E. Master, I am here enter'd in bond for you.
Ant. E. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me?
Dro. E. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, good master; cry the devil!'
Luc. God help, poor souls! how idly do they talk.
Adr. Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me. Exeunt PINCH and Assistants with ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and DROMIO of Ephesus. Say now, whose suit is he arrested at ? Off. One Angelo, a goldsmith; do you know him?
Adr. I know the man. What is the sum he owes?
Off. Two hundred ducats.
Say, how grows it due? Off. Due for a chain your husband had of him. Adr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.
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, Straight after did I meet him with a chain.
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, To have them bound again. Off
Away they'll kill us. Exeunt ADRIANA, LUCIANA, and Officer. 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 :
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, give us gold: methinks they are such a gentle nation, that but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to 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.
SCENE I-A Street before an Abbey.
Enter Merchant and ANGelo.
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 of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse.
Ang. 'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck Which he forswore most monstrously to have. 11 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;
Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity that thou liv'st
Ant. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, Courtezan, and
Adr. Hold! hurt him not, for God's sake! he is mad.
Some get within him, take his sword away: Lind 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 ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse to the Abbey. 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,
Ang. I knew he was not in his perfect wits.
Adr. As roughly as my modesty would let me.
And in assemblies too. ∞
Abb. Ay, but not enough.
Adr. It was the copy of our conference :
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
Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue
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. 90 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, 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;
40 And therefore let me have him home with me.
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 of sea?
And ill it doth beseem your holiness
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,
Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, 13)
Ang. Upon what cause?
Mer. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant, He cries for you and vows, if he can take you, Who put unluckily into this bay To scorch your face and to disfigure you. Against the laws and statutes of this town, Cry within Beheaded publicly for his offence. Hark, hark! I hear him, mistress: fly, be gone! Duke. Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds!
Ang. See where they come: we will behold his death.
Luc. Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey. Enter DUKE, attended; ÆGEON bare-headed; with the Headsman and other Officers.
Adr. Ay me, it is my husband! Witness you,
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,
And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,
Enter a Servant.
Serv. O mistress, mistress! shift and save yourself.
My master and his man are both broke loose,
And ever as it blaz'd they threw on him
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.
Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke! O! grant me justice,
Even for the service that long since I did thee,
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,
While she with harlots feasted in my house.
myself, he, and my
Adr. No, my good lord:
Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night,
In this the madman justly chargeth them!
Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say:
To go in person with me to my house.
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-eyed, 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 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 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 261 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! As this is false you burden me withal.
Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this! I think you all have drunk 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 din'd at home; the goldsmith here Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?
Dro. E. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Porpentine.
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.
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: 300 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. 320 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
Can witness with me that it is not so:
Duke. I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years