Ant. S. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me

As if I were their well acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy:
Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop,"

And shew'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And therewithal took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,

And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for.What, have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled?

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

Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf's-skin that was killed for the prodigal; he that came behind you, Sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.

Ant. S. I understand thee not.

Dro. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went, like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, Sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and 'rests them; he, Sir, that takes pity on decayed men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace, than a morrispike. 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!"

Is

Ant. S. Well, Sir, there rest in your foolery. there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? Dro. S. Why, Sir, I brought you word, an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to 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 promised 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, or 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 Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress:

I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone.

[supping?

Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised; And I'll be gone, Sir, and not trouble you.

Dro. S. Some devils ask but the paring of one's A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,

A nut, a cherrystone: but she, more covetous,
Would have a chain.

[nail,

Master, he 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
Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: mistress, that
you know. [Exeunt ANT. S. and DRO. S.❘
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 promised 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,

Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.
Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,
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.

[Ezit.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and an Officer. Ant. E. Fear me not, man, I will not break away; 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 Ant. E. But where's the money?

[all.

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.
[Beating him.

Offi. Good Sir, be patient.
Dro. E. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in ad-
Offi. Good now, hold thy tongue.
[versity. I

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 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.

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, and the Courtezan, with PINCH, and others.

Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder. Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, "Beware the rope's end."

[Beats him.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk?
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 ear.
Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man,
To yield possession to my holy prayers,
And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight;
1 conjure thee by all the saints in heaven.
Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace; I am not mad.
Adr. O, that thou wert net, poor distressed soul!
Ant. E. You minion you, are these your customers?

Tid 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 dined at home,
Where would you had remain'd until this time,
Free from these slanders, and this open shame!

Ant. E. I 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
Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there? [out.
Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself reviled you there.
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 Adr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you,

By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.

[me.

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 deliver'd it.

Lue. 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 possess'd: I know it by their pale and deadly looks: They must be bound, and laid in some dark room. Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth toAnd why dost thou deny the bag of gold? [day, Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. Dro. E. And, gentle master, I received no gold; But I confess, Sir, that we were lock'd out.

Adr. Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in both. Ant. E. Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all; And art confederate with a damned pack, To make a loathsome abject scorn of me: But with these nails I'll pluck out these false eyes, That would behold me in this shameful sport.

[PINCH and his Assistants bind ANT. E. and DRO. E. Adr. O, bind him, bind him, let him not come near me. Pinch. More company;-the ficnd is strong within him.

Luc. Ah me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks! Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou jailer, 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? Hast thou delight to see a wretched man Do outrage and displeasure to himself? off. He is my prisoner; if I let him go, The debt he owes will be required 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!

[thou,

Dro. E. Master, I am here enter'd in bond for you. Ant. E. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad Dro. E. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, [me? 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 Pisca and Assistants with ANT. E. and DRO. E. 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.

Adr. Say, how grows it due?

Of. Due for a chain your husband had of him. Adr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not. Cour. Whenas 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, jailer, 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 To have them bound again. [help,

Off. Away, they'll kill us.

[Exeunt Officer, 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 I long that we were safe and sound aboard. [thence:

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.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The same.

Enter Merchant and ANGELO.

[Exeunt

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 reverent 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 him to my house. Dro. S. Run, master, run; for God's sake, take a This is some priory;-in, or we are spoil'd. [house.

[Exeunt ANT. S. and DRO. S. to the Priory,

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? Adr. This week he hath been heavy, sour, and sad, And much, 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 at sea? Buried 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;
Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.
Abb. You should for that have reprehended him.

My wife, her sister, and a rabble more

Of vile confederates; along with them

They brought one Pinch; a hungry, lean-faced villain,
A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A threadbare 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 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

Το

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 tied 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 housed 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.

ge. 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, Syracusan, what thou wilt. Ege. Is not your name, Sir, called 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. Oh! grief hath changed 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 untuned 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. 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, 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 of Syracuse, and DROMIO of Syracuse.

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. 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 called Emilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons: O, if thou be'st the same geon, speak, And speak unto the same milia!

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.
Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to-day?
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 all 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. Nenowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains To 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

74

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,

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, Courtezan,
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:

ACT I.

SCENE I-Before LEONATO's House.

Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others, with a

Messenger.

Leon. I learn in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina.

Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him.

Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever I find here, that Don brings home full numbers. Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio.

Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro. He hath borue himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.

Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not shew itself modest enough without a badge of bit

terness.

was.

a lord?

Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues.

Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stuffing,-Well we are all mortal.

Leon. You must not, Sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her; they never meet but there is a skirmish of wit between them.

Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that! In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature.-Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.

Mess. Is it possible?

Beat. Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.

Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. Beat. No: an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young that will make a voyage with him to the squarer now, devil? Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

Beat. O Lord! he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio; if