1 Had hoisted sail, and put to sea to-day. Ant. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus. mad. 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, sad; And much different from the man he was; But, till this afternoon, his passion Ne'er brake into extremity of rage. [sea? Abb. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of 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. Adr. Why, so I did. Abb. Ay, but not rough enough. Adr. As roughly as my modesty would let me. Adr. It was the copy of our conference. In bed, he slept not for my urging it; Abb. And thereof came it that the man was mad: "Get within him," i. e., close, grapple with him.-"Take a house," i. e., take shelter in a house." The copy of our conference," i. e., a large part of our discourse. Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life? 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 people, enter, and lay hold on him. Abb. No; not a creature enters in my house. Adr. Then, let your servants bring my husband forth. Abb. Neither: he took this place for sanctuary, Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, Abb. Be patient; for I will not let him stir, Mer. By this, I think, the dial points at five: Ang. Upon what cause? Mer. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant, Who put unluckily into this bay Against the laws and statutes of this town, Beheaded publicly for his offence. [death. Ang. See, where they come: we will behold his Luc. Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey. Enter DUKE attended; EGEON bare-headed; with the Headsman and other Officers. Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, If any friend will pay the sum for him, He shall not die, so much we tender him. Adr. Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess! It cannot be, that she hath done thee wrong. By rushing in their houses, bearing thence d Substitute.-i. e., to bring him back to his senses.- Importunate.-"To take order," i. e., to take measures. Anon, I wot not by what 'strange escape, Nor send him forth, that we may bear him hence. Enter a Servant. Serv. O mistress, mistress! shift and save yourself. His man with scissors nicks him like a fool; Adr. Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here: And that is false, thou dost report to us. Serv. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true; I have not breath'd almost, since I did see 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. Ah 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 ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Ephesus. Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke! O! grant me justice, Even for the service that long since I did thee, [there! Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife, That hath abused and dishonor'd me, Even in the strength and height of injury. Beyond imagination is the wrong, That she this day hath shameless thrown on me. Duke. Discover how, and thou shalt find me just. Ant. E. This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon me, While she with harlots feasted in my house. Duke. A grievous fault. Say, woman, did'st thou so? Adr. No, my good lord: myself, he, and my sister, To-day did dine together. So befal my soul, As this is false he burdens me withal. "I wot not," i. e., I know not,--b" A-row," i. e., one after another; successively." Nicks him like a fool :" the heads of fools or jesters were shaved, or their hair cut close.Defended. Harlot was anciently applied to a base person among men, as well as to wantons among women. Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, But she tells to your highness simple truth. Ang. O perjur'd woman! They are both forsworn: In this the madman justly chargeth them. Ant. E. My liege, I am fadvised what I say; There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down, For certain ducats: he with none return'd. My wife, her sister, and a rabble more They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villain, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller, bound me, bore me thence, And in a dark and dankish vault at home 2 They left me and my man, both bound together; 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 did'st 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! Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her, there, at the Porcu- 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 I think you are all mated, or stark mad. [hither.[Exit an Attendant. Ege. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a Haply, I see a friend will save my life, [word. And pay the sum that may deliver me. Duke. Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt. Ege. 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. 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? [well. Ege. Why look you strange on me? you know me And careful hours, with time's deformed hand, 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 'my voice, split 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 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, Syracusian, twenty years Have I been patron to Antipholus, During which time he ne'er saw Syracuse. I see, thy age and dangers make thee dote. Enter Abbess, with ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse. 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! 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? "Mated," ie., confounded.- Deformed for deforming. -"Defeatures," i e., change of features.- Dromio quibbles upon the word bound.-i. e., the weak and discordant tone of my voice. Furrowed; lined. 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 had a wife once call'd 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! Ege. If I dream not, thou art Emilia. Abb. By men of Epidamnum, he, and I, Duke. Why, here begins his morning 5 story right Ant. S. No, sir, not I: I came from Syracuse. Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle. Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to-day? Adr. And are not you my husband? Ant. S. And so do I, yet did she call me so; Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of 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. 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 suffered wrong, go, keep us company, And we shall make full satisfaction. Twenty-five years have I been gone in travail Of you, my sons; and at this present hour My heavy burdens are delivered.The duke, my husband, and my children both, And you the calendars of their nativity, The morning story is the story that Egeon tells the Duke in the first scene of the play.-hi e., the two Dromios. 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, GEON, Courtezan, Merchant, ANGELO, and Attendants. Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from ship board? [barked? Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou emDro. S. Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur. [Dromio: Ant. S. He speaks to me.-I am your master, Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon. Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him. 1[Exeunt ANT. 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. [brother: Dro. E. Methinks, you are my glass, and not my 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'll 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 another [Exeunt. SCENE I.-Before LEONATO's House. Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others, with a Gentleman. Leon. I learn in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina. Gent. 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? Gent. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young Florentine, called Claudio. Gent. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered 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 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. Gent. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness. Leon. Did he break out into tears? Leon. A kind overflow of kindness. There are no faces truer than those that are so washed: how much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping? Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no? Gent. I 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. a "In great measure," i. e., in abundance. Montanto was one of the ancient terms of the fencing-school: a title humorously given to one whom she would represent as a bravado. -Rank. |