The Family Shakspeare

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, heaven 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

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?

Æge. Why look you strange on me? you know

me well.

Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now. Æge. Oh! grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last;

And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand

They brought one Pinch; a hungry, lean-fac'd Have written strange defeatures in my face:

villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller;

A needy, hollow-ey'd, 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 out-facing 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,
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 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 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! And this is false you burden me withal.

Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this! I think, you all have drank 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 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.

[Exit an Attendant. 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, Syracusan, what thou wilt. Æge. Is not your name, sir, called Antipholus? And is not that your bondman Dromio?

But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice? Ant. E. Neither.

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 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 lamp 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. Æge. 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 Syracusan, and
DROMIO Syracusan.

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. 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 And gain a husband by his liberty : Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once called 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!

1 Alteration of features.

Furrowed, lined.

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. 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. Renowned 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
Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company,

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right; And we shall make full satisfaction.

These two Antipholus's, 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.

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, ÆGEON, Courtezan,
Merchant, ANGELO, and Attendants.

Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from ship-board?

Ant. E. Brought to this town with that most famous warrior

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:

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 are arose.

Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. 3 The morning story is what Ægeon tells the Duke in the first scene of this play.

Come, go with us: we'll look to that anon :
Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.

[Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS S. and E. ADR.
and Luc.

Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's
house,

That kitchen'd me for you to day at dinner;
She now shall be my sister, not my wife.

Dro. E. Methinks you are my glass, and not my
brother:

I see by you, I am a sweet-faced youth.
Will you walk in to see their gossiping ?
Dro. S. Not I, sir; you are my elder.

Dro. E. That's a question: how shall we try it?
Dro. S. We will draw cuts for the senior till

then, lead thou first.

Dro. E. Nay, then thus:
We came into the world, like brother and brother:
And now let's go hand in hand, not one before
[Exeunt.

another.

SCENE, in the End of the Fourth Act, lies in England; through the Rest of the Play, in Scotland;

and, chiefly, at Macbeth's Castle.

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Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches.

1 Witch. When shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2 Witch. When the hurlyburly's' done,

When the battle's lost and won.

3 Witch. That will be ere set of sun.

1 Witch. Where the place?

2 Witch.

Upon the heath:

3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

1 Witch. I come, Graymalkin!

All. Paddock calls: - Anon.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair :

Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
'Gainst my captivity: - Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,
As thou didst leave it.

Sold.

Doubtfully it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
(Worthy to be a rebel; for, to that,
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallowglasses was supplied;
And fortune on him smil'd, but all too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,

[Witches vanish. Like valour's minion,

SCENE II. - A Camp near Fores.

Alarum within. Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier.

Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave;
And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflexion,

Dun. What bloody man is that? He can revort, Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt

So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come,
Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd,

e. Supplied with light and heavy armed troops.

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