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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.
Dro. S. Some devils ask but the parings of
one's 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: an 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.

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,


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I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money,
To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to-day,
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.

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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.

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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

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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,
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

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
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?


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. And did not she herself revile me there? Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you there. 80

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.

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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
of Ephesus.

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

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

Masters, let him go:
He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
Pinch. Go bind this man, for he is frantic too.
They bind DROMIO of Ephesus.
Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?
Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
Do outrage and displeasure to himself?

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:

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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. Exeunt.


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;
And not without some scandal to yourself,
With circumstance and oaths so to deny
This chain which now you wear so openly:
Beside 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 know'st, 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


Adr. As roughly as my modesty would let me.
Abb. Haply, in private.

And in assemblies too. c

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


The venom clamours of a jealous woman
Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
It seems, his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing,
And thereof comes it that his head is light.
Thou say st his meat was sauc'd with thy up-

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

Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue
But moody and dull melancholy,
Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,
And at their 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 scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.
Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly


Adr. Hold hurt him not, for God's sake! he When he demean'd himself rough, rude, and'

is mad. Some get within him, take his sword away : Bind 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

Adr. To fetch my poor distracted husband

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


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?



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

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;
And therefore let me have him home with me.
Abb. Be patient; for I will not let him stir
Till I have us'd the approved means I have,
With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers,
To make of him a formal man again.
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
A charitable duty of my order;
Therefore depart and leave him here with me.
Adr. I will not hence and leave my husband


And ill it doth beseem your holiness To separate the husband and the wife. Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye Abb. Be quiet and depart: thou shalt not Stray'd his affection in unlawful love? Exit. have him. A sin prevailing much in youthful men, Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indignity. Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing. Adr. Come, go: I will fall prostrate at his feet, Which of these sorrows is he subject to? And never rise until my tears and prayers Adr. To none of these, except it be the last; Have won his grace to come in person hither, Namely, some love that drew him oft from home. And take perforce my husband from the abbess. Abb. You should for that have reprehended h dhim. Mer. By this, I think, the dial points at five: Adr. Why, so I did. Anon, I'm sure, the duke himself in person Abb. Ay, but not rough enough. | Comes this way to the melancholy vale,


The place of death and sorry execution,
Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
Ang. Upon what cause?

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.

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.

Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, 13) 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. 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, anything 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 pursu'd 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.

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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. 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 reason.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and DROMIO
of Ephesus.

Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke! O! grant me justice,


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In this the madman justly chargeth them!


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,
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-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.

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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

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
All gather to see them.
Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive


Duke. One of these men is Genius to the other;

Ant. E. "Tis true, my liege; this ing I had And so of these. Which is the natural man, 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.

abbess hither.

Go call the

I think you are all mated or stark mad.


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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. Egeon 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 Egeon, 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 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:

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