As this is false he burthens me withal!

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, 210

But she tells to your Highness simple truth !

Ang. O perjured woman! They are both forsworn :

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, provoked 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 perjured goldsmith swear me down
That I this day of him received the chain,
Which, God he knows, I saw not: for the which
He did arrest me with an officer.

215

220

225

230

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

236

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,

240

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.

245

250

255

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.

Sec. 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 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:

260

265

I never saw the chain, so help me Heaven!
And this is false you burthen 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 ?

270

Dro. E. Sir, he dined 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? 278 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.

281

[Exit one to the Abbess.

Æge. 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, Syracusian, what thou wilt. 285 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 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?

290

Æge. Why look you strange on me? you know me well. Ant. E. I never saw you in my life till now.

296

Æge. O, 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?

300

Ant. E.

Neither.

Æge. Dromio, nor thou?

Dro. E.

No, trust me, sir, nor I.

305

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, 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.

310

315

Æge. But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy,

Thou know'st we parted: but perhaps, my son,
Thou shamest to acknowledge me in misery.

320

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.

Re-enter Abbess, with ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of

Syracuse.

325

Abb. Most mighty Duke, behold a man much wrong'd. [All gather to see them.

Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me. 330
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,

335

And gain a husband by his liberty.
Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man
That hadst a wife once call'd Æmilia,
That bore thee at a burthen two fair sons:
O, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak,
And speak unto the same Æmilia!

340