SCENE V.

Enter Antipholis, and Dromio of Ephefus.

E. Ant. USTICE, moft gracious Duke, oh, grant me juftice.

JUS

Even for the service that long fince I did thee,
When I beftrid thee in the wars, and took
Deep fears to fave thy life, even for the blood
That then I loft for thee, now grant me juftice.
Egeon. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote;
I fee my fon Antipholis, and Dromio.

E. Ant. Juftice, fweet Prince, against that woman

there :

She whom thou gav'ft to me to be

my wife;
That hath abused and difhonour'd me,
Ev'n in the ftrength and height of injury.
Beyond imagination is the wrong,

That the this day hath fhameless thrown on me.
Duke. Difcover how, and thou fhalt find me juft.
E. Ant. This day, great Duke, she shut the doors
upon me;

Whilft fhe with harlots feafted in my house.

Duke. A grievous fault; fay, woman, didst thou so? Adr. No, my good lord: myself, he and my fifter, To day did dine together: fo befal my foul, As this is falfe, he burdens me withal!

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor fleep on night, But he tells to your highnefs fimple truth!

Ang. O, perjur'd woman! they are both forfworn. In this the mad-man juftly chargeth them.

E. Ant. My Liege, I am advised, what I say. Neither difturb'd with the effect of wine, Nor, hardy-rafh, provok'd with raging ire; Albeit, my wrongs might make one wifer mad. This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner; That goldfmith there, were he not pack'd with her, Could witness it; for he was with me then;

D 3

Who

Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
Promifing to bring it to the Porcupine,
Where Balthazar and I did dine together.
Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
I went to feek him; in the ftreet I met him,
And in his company that gentleman.

There did this perjur'd goldfmith fwear me down,
That I this day from him receiv'd the chain;
Which, God he knows, I faw not; for the which,
He did arreft me with an officer. );

I did obey, and fent my peasant home
For certain ducats; he with none return'd,
Then fairly I bespoke the officer,

To go in perfon with me to my house.
By th' way we met my wife, her fifter, and

A rabble more of vile confederates ;

They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villian,
A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
A needy, hollow-ey'd, fharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man. This pernicious flave,
Forfooth, took on him as a conjurer;
And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no-face, as 'twere, out-facing me,
Cries out, I was poffeft. 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 afunder,
I gain'd my freedom, and immediately

Ran hither to your Grace; whom I beseech
To give me ample fatisfaction.

For thefe deep fhames and great indignities.

Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witnefs with him; That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out. Duke. But had he fuch a chain of thee, or no? Ang. He had, my lord; and when he ran in here,

These people faw the chain about his neck.

Mer.

Mer. Befides I will be fworn, these ears of mine

Heard you confefs, you had the chain of him,
After you firft forfwore it on the mart;
And thereupon I drew my fword on you;
And then you fled into this abbey here,
From whence, I think, you're come by miracle.
E. Ant. I never came within these abbey walls,
Nor ever didft thou draw thy fword on me;
I never faw the chain, fo help me heav'n!
And 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 fo coldly:
You fay, he din'd at home; the goldfmith here
Denies that faying. Sirrah, what fay you?

E. Dro. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Porcupine.

Cour. He did, and from my finger fnatch'd that
ring.

E. Ant. 'Tis true, my Liege, this ring I had of her.
Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?
Gour. As fure, my Liege, as I do fee your Grace.
Duke. Why, this is ftrange; go call the Abbess

hither;

I think, you are all mated, or stark mad.

[Exit one to the Abbess.

Haply, I fee a friend, will fave my life;

And pay the fum that may deliver me.

Duke. Speak freely, Syracufan, what thou wilt.
Egeon. Is not your name, Sir, call'd Antipholis ?

⚫ And is not that your bond-man' Dromio?

E. Dro. Within this hour I was his bond-man,

Sir,

D 4

But

But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords;
Now am I Dromio, and his man unbound.

Ægeon. I am fure, you both of you remember me.
E. Dro. 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?

Egeon. Why look you ftrange on me? you know me well.

E. Ant. I never fay you in my life, 'till now.
Egeon. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, fince you faw
me laft;

And careful hours with time's deformed hand
Haye written ftrange defeatures in my face;
But tell me yet, doft thou not know my voice?
E. Ant. Neither.

Egeon. Dromio, nor thou?

E. Dro. No, truft me, Sir, nor I.

Egeon. I am fure, thou doft.

E. Dro. I, Sir? but I am fure, I do not: and whatfoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him..

Ageon. Not know my voice! oh, time's extremity! Haft thou fo crack'd and splitted my poor tongue In seven short years, that here my only fon Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares? Tho' now this grained face of mine be hid In fap-confuming winter's drizzled snow, And all the conduits of my blood froze Yet hath my night of life fome memory; My wafling lamp fome fading glimmer left, My dull deaf ears a little ufe to hear: All these hold witneffes I cannot err, Tell me thou art my fon Antipholis.

up;

E. Ant. I never faw my father in my life. Egeon. But feven years fince, in Syracusa-bay, Thou know'ft, we parted; but, perhaps, my fon, Thou fham'ft t'acknowledge me in mifery.

E. Ant.

E. Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the

city.

Can witness with me that it is not fo:

Ine'er faw Syracufa in my life.

Duke. I tell thee, Syracufan, twenty years
Have I been Patron to Antipholis,

During which time he ne'er faw Syracufa :
I fee, thy age and dangers make thee doat.

SCENE

VII.

Enter the Abbefs with Antipholis Syracufan, and Dro

Abb.

mio Syracufan.

OST mighty Duke, behold a man much wrong'd. [All gather to fee him. Adr. I fee two hufbands, or mine eyes deceive me. Duke. One of these men is Genius to the other; And fo of these which is the natural man, And which the spirit? who deciphers them?

S. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio; command him away.
E. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay.
S. Ant. Egeon, art thou not? or else his ghoft?
S. Dro. O, my old mafter! who hath bound him.
here?

Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loofe his bonds; And gain a husband by his liberty.

Speak, old Egeon, if thou be'ft the man,
That hadft a wife once call'd Æmilia,
That bore thee at a burden two fair fons?
Oh, if thou be'ft the fame Ægeon, speak;

And speak unto the fame Emilia.

Duke. Why, here begins his morning ftory right: These two Antipholis's, these two so like,

And thofe two Dromio's, one in femblance;
Befides her urging of her wreck at fea,

Thefe plainly are the parents to these children,
Which accidentally are met together.

D 5

Egeon.