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Who, but for staying on our controversy,
Had hoisted sail, and put to sea to-day:
Tliis chain you had of me, can you deny it?

S. Am. I think, I tod; I never did deny it.

Mer. Yes, that you diJ, fir, and forswore it too.

S. .4*1. Who heard me to deny it, or forswear it?

Mtr. These ean; of mine, thou know '11, did
hear thee:

Fye on the*, wretch! 'tis pity, tint thou liv'rt
To walk where .my honest men resort.

S. Ant. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
111 prove mine honour and my honclty
Against thee presently, if thou dar'st Hand.
Mtr. 1 dare, and do defy thee for a villain.

[They draw. Enter Adnanay Ltn'ianat CourteKany and others. Ad,i. Hold,hurt him not, for God's lake | he is mad ;—

Some get within him, take his sword aw ay:
Bind Dromiotoo, and hear them to my house.
S. Pro. Run, master, run; for God's lake, take
a liouse.

This is some priory ;—In, or we are spoil'd.

[ Exeunt to the priory. Enter L-idy Al>b,j't. Abb. Be quiet, people j Wherefore throng you hither?

Air. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence: Let us come in, tliat we may hind him fast, And bear him home for his reco.ery.

Ang. I knew, he was not in his perfect wits.

Mtr. I am sorry now, that I did draw on him.

Abb. How long hath this poueffion held the man }

Adr. This week he hath been heavy, four, fad, And much, much different from the man lie was; Kut, till this afternoon, his paiVton Ne'er brake into extremity of rage. [sea?

Abb. Hath he not l"st mnch w ealth by wreck at Bury'd some dear friend r Hath not else his eye Stray'd his anectioo in unlawful love? A sin, prevailing much in youthful men, Who give their eye;, the liberty of gazing. Which of these sorrows is he subject to?

Adr. To none of these, except it be the last; Kamely, some love that drew him oft from home.

Abb. You should for that ha\ e reprehended him.

Adi . Why, so I did.

A^b. But not rough enougli.

Adr. As roughly, as my modesty would let me

A^b. Haply, in private.

Adr. And in assemblies too.

Abb. Ay, but not enough.

Adr. It was the copy' of our conference;
pi bed, he flept not for my urging it i
At board, he fed not for my urging it j
Alone, it was the fuhject of my theme;
In company, I often glanc'd at it;
Still did I tell him it w as vile and bad.

Abb. And therefore came it that the man w as mad. 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 therefore comes it, ttot Ids head is light.

Tliou say'st his meat was saue'd with thy upbraid

Unquiet meals make ill digestions, ['"S*:

Therefore the raging tire of fever bred;

And what's a fever but a fit of madness?

Thou fay 'st, his sports w ere hinder'd by thy brawls:

Sw eet recreation harrM, w hat doth ensue,

Knt moody and dull melancholy,

Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair;

And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop

Of pale distemper.iturcs, and foes to life?

In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest

To be ditturb'd, would mad or man or beast:

The consequence is then, thy jealous fits

Have scar'd thy husband from the use of w its.

Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himself rough, rude and wildly. Why bear you these rebukes, and answer not?

Adr. She did betray me to my own reproof.— Good penph , enter, and lay hold on him.

Abb. No, not a creature enter in my house.

Adr. Then, let your servants bring my husband forth.

Abb. Neither! he took this place for sanctuary,
And it shall privilege him from your liands",
"fill 1 have brought him to his wits again,
Or lose my labour in allaying it.

Adr. I will attend my hu'.band, be his nurse,
Diet his sickness, fur it is my office;
And w ill have no attorney but myself j
Aid therefore let me have him home with me.

Abb. Be patient; for I will not let him stir,
Till I lave Us'd the approved means I have,
With "Wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers.
To make of him a formal1 man again:
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
A charitable duty of my order j
Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.

Adr. I will not hence, and leave my husband And ill it doth beseem your lioliness, [here \ To separate the hulband and the wife. [him.

Abb. Be quiet, and depart, thou shalt net haw*

Luc. Complain unto tlic duke of tliis indignity.

{Exit Abbes;.

Adr. Come, go | I will fall prostrate at his feetjp And never rife until my tears and prayers Have won his grace to come in person hither, And take perforce my husband from the abbess. -»

Mer. By this, I think, the dial points at fivei Anon, I am sure, the duke himself in person Comes this way to the melancholy vale; The place of death and sorry 3 execution, Behind the ditches of the abbey here.

Ang. Upon what cause?

Mer. To see a reverend Syracusan merchant. Who put unluckily into this bay Against the laws and statutes of this town, Beheaded publickly for his offence. [death,

Altg. See, where they come) we will behold hit

» That it, the theme, or subject. » i. e, a regular, sober man- 3 Sorry here means vile, worthless,

Luc. Kneel to the Juke, before he pass the
abbey.

Enter tl.1 Duke j and Ægeon hart-headed; with the
headjtnan and other officers,
Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly.
If any siiend 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 sire hath done thee wrong.

Adr. May it please your grace, Antipholis, my
husband,—
\Vhom I made lord of me and all I had,
At your important1 letters,—this ill day
A most outrageous fit of madness took him;
That desperately he hurry'd through the street,
(With him his bondman, all as mad as he)
Doing displeasure to the citizens,
By rustling in their houses, bearing thence
Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
Once did 1 get him bound, and sent him home,
Whilst to take order 2 for the wrongs I went,
Thai here and there his fury had committed.
Anon, 1 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, w hither we purfu'd them;
And here the abbess stuits the gates on us,
And will not suffer us to fetch him out,
Nor fend him forth, th..t we may bear him hence.
Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command.
Let him be hrought forth, and borne hence sot
help. [wars;

Duke. Long since thy husband serv'd me in my
And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,
When thou didst make liim 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 thi=, before I stir.

Enter a Messenger.
Mess. O mistress, mistress, (hist and save yourself!
My master and his man are both broke loose!
Beaten the maids a-row •', and bound the doctor,
Whose beard they have sing'd off with brands of
And ever as it blaz'd, they threw on him [fire;
Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair:
My master preaches patience to him, and the while
His man with scilfars nicks him like a fool.
And, sure, unless you fend some present help,
Between them they will kill the conjurer, [here;

Adr. Peace, fool, thy master and his man are
And that is false, thou dost report to us.

M'Js. Mistress, upon my life, I tel! you true; I have not hrenth'd almost, since I did fee 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 Antipholii, and Dromio of Ephesut.
E, Ant. Justice, most gracious duke, oh, grant
me justice!

Even for the service that long since I did thee,
When I belti id thee in the wars, and took
Deep scars to save thy life j even for the blood
That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.

Ægean. Unless the fear of death doth make me
I fee my son Antipholis, and Dromio. [dote,
E. Ant. Justice, sweet prince, against that wo-
man there.

She whom thou gav 'st to me to be my wife j
Tliat hath abused and dishonour'd me,
Even in the strength and height os injury!
Beyond imagination is the wrong,
That (he this day hath shameless thrown on me.
Duke. Discoverhow, and thou shalt rind me just.
£. Ant. This day, great duke, she sliur the doors'
upon me,

Whilst she w ith harlots4 feasted in my house.
Duke. A grievous fault: Say, woman, didst
thou so! [sister,
Adr. No, my g<x>d lord ;—myself, he, and my1
To-day did dine together: So befal my sou!,
As this is false, he burdens me withal I

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, norsleep on nights
But she tells to your highness simple truth!

Aug. O perjur'd woman! They are both for-
In this the madman justly tiiargeth them, [sworn.

E. Ant. My liege, 1 am advised what 1 soy \
Neither disturb'd with the effect of wine,
Nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire,
Albeit, my wrongs might make one wiser nv.d.
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner:
That goldsmith there, were he not pack'dwith her,
Could witness it, for he was w ith me then,'
Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
Promising to bring it to the Porcupine,
Where Balthazar and 1 did dine together.
Our dinner dune, and lie 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, 1 saw not: for the which,
He did arrest me with an officer.
1 did obey; and sent my peasant home
For certain ducats: he w ith none retum'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;

» Perhaps we should read importunate. 1 i. c. to take treasures. 3 i. e. one after another. * liar* hit here means cheats.

Along with them . [lain,

They brought one Pinch; a hungry lean-fac'd vil

A meer amtomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, an J a fortune-teller j

A needy, hollow-ey'd, (harp-looking wretch,

A living dead-man: this pemicioas slave,

Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer;

And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulse,

And with no-face, as it were, out-facing me,

Cries out, I was poflefs'd: then all together

They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence;

And in a dark and dankifh 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 vour grace; whom 1 beseech

To give me ample satisfaction

For these deep shames and great indignities.

sing. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him;

That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out. Dukt. But had he such a chain of thee, or no slag- He had, my lord: and when he ran here,

These people saw the chain about his neck.

Mir. Besides, I will be sworn, tliese ears of mine Heard you confess, you h:ut the cliain of him, After you first forswore it on the mart, And, thereupon, I drew my sword on you i And then yotWled into this abbey here, From whence, 1 think, you are come by miracle.

E. shit. 1 never came within these abbey-walls, Nor ever didst thou, draw thy sword on me; I never saw the chain, so help me heaven I 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 fay, he din'd at home; the goldsmith here Denies that saying :—Sirrah, what say you?

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

Ciur. He did; and from my finger snatch'd tha:

E. Ant. 'Tis true, my liege, this ring I liad us her.

Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here? Coir: As sure, my liege, as I do fee your grace. Dukt. Why, this is strange i—-Go call the abbess hither;

1 think you are all mated', or stark mad

[Exit one to the Abbesi.

Ægeon. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak Haply, 1 see a friend, will save my life, [a word j And pay the sum that may deliver me.

Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt.

Æreon. Is not your name, sir, call'd Antipholis f And is not that your bondman Dromio! [sir,

E. Dro. Within this hour I was his bond-man, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords; Kow am I Dromio, and his man, unbound, [me.

Ægeon. I am sure, you both of you remember I

E. Dro. Ourselves we do remember, sir, by For lately we were bound, as you are now. [you; You are not Pinch's patient, are you, fir?

Æg.on. Why lcxik you strange on me? yon know me well.

E. -'ht. I never saw you in my life, 'till now.

Ægeon. Oh! grief liath chang'd me, since you saw me last; And careful hours, with time's deformed1 hand Have written strange defeatures 3 in my face: But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?

Ant. Neither.

Ægeon. Dromio, nor thou?

E. Dro. No, trust me, sir, nor I.

Ægeon. 1 am sure, tliuu dost.

E.~D,o. Ay, sir? But I am sure, I do not; and whatsoever A man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

Ægean. Not know my voice 1 Oh, time's ex-
tremity!

Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue
In sev en short yea's, that here my only son
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares?
Though now this grained * face of mine be hid
In (ap-consuming winter's drizled snow,
And all the conduits of my blood froze up;
Yet bath my night of life some memory,
My wasting limps 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 Antipholis.

E. Am. I never saw my father in my life.

Ægion. Bui seven years since, in Syracuse, boy, Thou know est, we parted i but, perliaps, my son, Thousham'll to acknow ledge me in misery.

E. Ant. The duke, and all that know me in Can witness with me tliat it is not so; [the city, 1 ne'er saw Syracuse in my life.

Duke. I tell thee, Syracusan, twenty years Have I been patron to Antipholis, During which time he ne'er sew Syracuse: I fee, thy age and dangers make thee dote. Enter the Abbes, Kuitb Antipholis Syracusan, a»d Dromio Syracusan.

Abb. Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd. \ All gather to sec 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 w hich the spirit? who deciphers them?

S. Dro. I, sir, am Dromio ; command him away.

E. Dro. I sir, am Dromio j pray, let me stay.

S. Ant. Ægeon, art thou not ? or else his ghost f

S. Drc. O, my old master '. who liath hound him here?

y^ii. Whoever bound him, I will loose his boudsj 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 hurden two fair sons? Oh, if thou be 'st the some Ægeon, fpeak| And speak unto the same Æmilia!

I i. f. wild, foolish, * for defirmng. 3 i. e. strange alteration of feature*. 4 i. e, furrow'd.

t * Ptekl, * Dr. Warburton think* we should read, and gaude; that is, rejoin with me.

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right: These two Antipholis's, these two so like, And those two Dromio's, one in semblance,— Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,— These are the parents to these children, Which accidentally are met together.

Ægem. If I dream not, thou art /Emilia;
If thou art she, tell me, where is that son
That floated with thee on the fatal raft?

Abb. By men of EpiJamnum, he and I,
And the twin Dromio, all were taken up;
But, by and by, rude fishermen os 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 fee me in.

Duke. Antiphnlis, thou cam'st from Corinth first .'

S. Ant. No, sir, not 1; I came from Syracuse.

Duke. Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which. [lord.

E. Ant. I came from Corinth, my most gracious

E. Dm. And I with him. [mous warrior

E. .'int. Brought to this town by tliat most faDuke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.

Adr. Which of you two did dine w ith me to-day?

S. Ant. I, gentle mistress.

Aiir. And are you not my husband?

E. Ant. No, I say nay to that.

S. Ant. And so do I, yet she did call me so;
And this fair gentlewom.m, her sister here,
D:d call me brother: What I told you then,
I hope, I sh;ul have leisure to make grKid;
If thij he not a dream, I see, ;ind hear.

Aug. Tliat is the chain, sir, which you had of me.

S. Ant. 1 think it he, fir; I deny it not.

E Ait. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.

An>. I think I did, sir; I deny it not.

Adr. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail, By Dromio; but I think lie brought it not.

S. Dro. No, none by me.

S. Ant. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me: 1 fee, we still did meet each others man, And 1 was ta'cn for him, and he for me, And thereupon these Errors are arose.

E. Ant. These ducats pawn I for my father here.

Duke. It shall not need, thy father bath his life.

Cour. Sir, I must have that diamond from you,

E. Ait. There, take it j and much thanks for. my good cheer. [pains

Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the 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, And ye shall have full satisfaction.— Twenty-five years have 1 but gone in travail Of you, my sons; and, till this present liour. My heavy burden not delivered :— The duke, my husband, and my children both,. And you the calendars of their nativity, Go to a gollip's feast, and go 1 with me; After so long grief such nativity!

Duke. With all my heart, I '11 gossip at this feast.

[Exeunt.

Melnent the tivo Antipbol'u's, and ftvo Drotnio'i. S.Drc. Master, (hall I fetch your stuff from ship-board? [imhark'd i

E. Ant. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou S. Dro. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.

S. Ant. He speaks to me j I am your master,
Dromio:

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

[Exeunt Antipbcli. S. and E. S. Dn. There is a tat friend aByour master's house,

Tliat kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner;
Siie now shall be my sister, not my w ife.

E. Dro. Methinks, you are my glass, and noc my brother: I fee by you, I am a fweet-fae'd youth. Will you walk ill to fee their gossiping? 5. Dro. Not I, sir; you are my elder. E. Dro. That's a question: How stiall we try it >

S. Dro. We will draw
Cuts for the senior; till then lead thou first.

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

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SCENE L

Before Leonato i bouse.

inter Lronato, He'O, and Beatrice, with a Messenger,

Leen. I LEARN in this letter, that Don Pedro of 1 Arragon comes this night to Messina.

Mess- He is very ne.ir by this j he was not three leagues off when I left him.

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

Mejs. But few of any fort *, and none of name.

Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the atchiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, call'd Claudio.

Mejs. Much deferv'd on his part, and equally rememberM by Don Pedro: He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better berter'd expectation, than you must expect of Bie to tell you how.

Leon. He hr.tli an uncle here in Messina will b* \tvy much glad of it.

Mejs. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much juy in him j even so much, that joy could not (hew itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness.

Leon. Did he break out into tears?

Mejs. In great measure.

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so wash'd. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy ac weeping?

Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto' return'd from the wars, or no?

Mejs. 1 know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army of any sort.

Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece >

Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick of Padua.

Mejs. O, he's return'd; and as pleasant as e v er he was.

Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina 4, and challenged Cupid at the flight s: and my uncle's fool

> Mr. Pope was of opinion, that the story of this play it taken from Aiiosto's Orlando Furiofo, h. v. Mr. Steevcns, however, supposes, that a novel of Btllcforest, copied from another of Bandello, furnished Shakspeare with his fable. * That is, of any rank. 3 Montante, in Spanish, is a huge tuiohandedsword, given, with much humour, to one, the speaker would represent as a boaster or bravado. « This alludes to the custom of fencers, or prize-fighters, setting up bills, containing a general challenge. 5 To challenge at the slight, was a challenge to shoot with an arrtw of a particular kind, * .th narrow feathers.

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