And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie;
And, in that glorious supposition, think
He gains by death, that hath such means to die:
Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink!
Luc. What are you mad, that you do reason so?
Ant. S. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.
Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eye.
Ant. S. For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.
Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear
your sight.
[night.
Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on
Luc. Why call you me love? call my sister so.
Ant. S. Thy sister's sister.
Luc.

Ant. S.

That's my sister.

No;

It is thyself, mine own self's better part;
Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart;
My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim,
My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.

Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be.
Ant. S. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee.
Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life:
Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife.
Give me thy hand.
Luc.
O, soft, sir! hold you still:
I'll fetch my sister, to get her good-will.

[Exit.

Dro. S. A very reverend body; ay, such a one as a man may not speak of, without he say, sir-reverI have but lean luck in the match, and yet she is a wondrous fat marriage.

ence.

Ant. S. How dost thou mean a fat marriage? Dro. S. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen-wench, and all grease; and I know not what use to put her to, but to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a Polar winter: if she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

Ant. S. What complexion is she of?

Dro. S. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like so clean kept: for why? she sweats; a man may go over shoes in the grime of it.

Ant. S. That's a fault that water will mend. Dro. S. No, sir; 'tis in grain: Noah's flood could not do it.

Ant. S. What's her name?

Dro. S. Nell, sir; but her name is three quarters, that is, an ell; and three quarters will not measure her from hip to hip.

Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?

Dro. S. O! sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; call'd me Dromio; swore, was fassured to her: mark of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great told me what privy marks I had about me, as the wart on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch and, I think, if my breast had not been form'd me to a curtail-dog, and made me turn i' the made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transh wheel.

And if the wind blow any way from shore,
Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently post to the road,
I will not harbor in this town to-night.
Where I will walk till thou return to me.
If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
If every one knows us, and we know none,
"Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and begone.
Dro. S. As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly I from her that would be my wife.

[Exit.

Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here, And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence. She that doth call me husband, even my soul Doth for a wife abhor; but her fair sister, Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace, Hath almost made me traitor to myself: Of such enchanting presence and discourse, But, lest myself be guilty of self-wrong, I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.

Enter ANGELO.

Ang. Master Antipholus?
Ant. S. Ay, that's my name.

Ang. I know it well, sir. Lo! here is the chain.
I thought to have ta'en you at the Porcupine;
The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.

Ant. S. What is your will that I shall do with this? Ang. What please yourself, sir: I have made it for you.

Ant. S. Made it for me, sir? I bespoke it not.

Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have. Go home with it, and please your wife withal; And soon at supper-time I'll visit you, And then receive my money for the chain.

Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, For fear you ne'er sec chain, nor money, more. Ang. You are a merry man, sir. Fare you well. [Exit. Ant. S. What I should think of this, I can not tell; But this I think, there's no man is so vain, That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.

[thou

Off. That labor may you save: see where he comes. Ant. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go And buy a rope's end, that will I bestow Among my wife and these confederates, For locking me out of my doors by day.But soft, I see the goldsmith.-Get thee gone; Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.

Dro. E. I buy a thousand pound a-year? I buy a rope?

[Exit.
Ant. E. A man is well holp up that trusts to you:
promis'd 3 me your presence, and the chain,
But neither chain, nor goldsmith, came to me.
Belike, you thought our love would last too long,
If it were chain'd together, and therefore came not.
Ang. Saving your merry humor, here's the note
How much your chain weighs to the utmost caract,
The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion,
Which doth amount to three odd ducats more
Than I stand debted to this gentleman:

I pray you, see him presently discharg'd,
For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it.
Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present money;
Besides, I have some business in the town.
Good signior, take the stranger to my house,
And with you take the chain, and bid my wife
Disburse the sum on the receipt thercof:
Perchance, I will be there as soon as you.
Ang. Then, you will bring the chain to her yourself?
Ant. E. No; bear it with you, lest I come not time
enough.
[you?
Ang. Well, sir, I will. Have you the chain about

Accruing; growing due. Carat.-"Will" for shall,

Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have, Or else you may return without your money.

Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain: Both wind and tide stay for this gentleman, And I, to blame, have held him here too long. Ant. E. Good lord! you use this dalliance, to excuse Your breach of promise to the Porcupine. I should have chid you for not bringing it, But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl. Mer. The hour steals on: I pray you, sir, dispatch. Ang. You hear, how he importunes me: the chainAnt. E. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your money. [now.

Ang. Come, come; you know, I gave it you even
Either send the chain, or send by me some token.
Ant. E. Fie! now you run this humor out of breath.
Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it.
Mer. My business cannot brook this dalliance.
Good sir, say, whe'r you'll answer me, or no?
If not, I'll leave him to the officer.

Ant. E. I answer you! what should I answer you?
Ang. The money that you owe me for the chain.
Ant. E. I owe you none, till I receive the chain.
Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour since.
Ant. E. You gave me none: you wrong me much
to say so.

Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it:
Consider how it stands upon my credit.

Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit.

Off. I do, and charge you in the duke's name to Ang. This touches me in reputation.- [obey me. Either consent to pay this sum for me,

Or I attach you by this officer.

Ant. E. Consent to pay for that I never had?
Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st.

Ang. Here is thy fee: arrest him, officer.-
I would not spare my brother in this case,
If he should scorn me so apparently.

Off. I do arrest you, sir. You hear the suit.
Ant. E. I do obey thee, till I give thee bail.-
As all the metal in your shop will answer.
But, sirrah, you shall buy this sport as dear,

Ang. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus,
To your notorious shame, I doubt it not.
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

d

Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum, That stays but till her owner comes aboard, And then, sir, she bears away. Our fraughtage, sir, I have convey'd aboard, and I have bought The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitæ. The ship is in her trim: the merry wind Blows fair from land; they stay for nought at all, But for their owner, master, and yourself. Ant. E. How now? a madman! Why, thou peevish What ship of Epidamnum stays for me?

[sheep,

Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope; And told thee to what purpose, and what end. Dro. S. You sent me for a rope's end as soon. You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark.

Ant. E. I will debate this matter at more leisure, And teach your ears to list me with more heed. To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight; Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry, There is a purse of ducats: let her send it. Tell her, I am arrested in the street, And that shall bail me. Hie thee, slave, be gone. On, officer, to prison till it come.

[Exeunt Merchant, ANGELO, Officer, and ANT. E.

Freight; cargo.- Mad; foolish.- Carriage.

Dro. S. To Adriana? that is where we din'd, Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband: She is too big, I hope, for me to compass. Thither I must, although against my will,

For servants must their masters' minds fulfil. [Exit.

SCENE II.-The Same.

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

Adr. Ah! Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Might'st thou perceive austerely in his eye That he did plead in earnest? yea or no?

Look'd he or red, or pale? or sad, or 'merry? What observation mad'st thou in this case, Of his heart's a meteors tilting in his face?

Luc. First he denied you had in him no right. Adr. He meant, he did me none: the more my spite. Luc. Then swore he, that he was a stranger here. Adr. And true he swore, though yet forsworn he Luc. Then pleaded I for you. [were. Adr. And what said he? Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me. Adr. With what persuasion did he tempt thy love? Luc. With words, that in an honest suit might move. First, he did praise my beauty; then, my speech. Adr. Did'st speak him fair?

Luc.

b

Have patience, I beseech. Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me still: My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will. He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, Ill-fac'd, worse bodied, shapeless every where; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind, Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

Luc. Who would be jealous, then, of such a one? No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone.

d

Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I say, And yet would herein others' eyes were worse. Far from her nest the lapwing cries away: My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse, running. Dro. S. Here, go: the desk! the purse! 3swift, now make haste.

Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath? Dro. S. By running fast. Adr. Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well? Dro. S. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell: A devil in an everlasting garment hath him fell, One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel; 5 Who knows no touch of mercy, cannot feel; A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough;

4

A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff; [mands
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that counter
The passages and alleys, creeks and narrow lands:
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws 'dry-foot
well;
[shell.
One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls to
Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? [the case.
Dro. S. I do not know the matter: he is 'rested on
Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whose suit.
Dro. S. I know not at whose suit he is arrested
well;

An allusion to the northern lights, which have the appearance of armies meeting in the shock.- Dry; withered. "Stigmatical," i. e., stigmatized or marked by nature with deformity. The lapwing is said to draw pursuers from her nest by crying in other places. See Measure for Measure, Aet i Scene 5- The buff or leather jerkin of the serjeant is called an everlasting garment, because it was so durable. To run counter, in sportman's phrase, signifies that the hounds, mistaking the course of the game, run backward; to draw dry foot was to follow the scent or track of the game. There is a quibble upon the word counter, which points at a well-known prison in London, so called.-"Hell" was the cant term for a prison.

But he's in a suit of buff which 'rested him, that can I tell.

Will you send him, mistress, redemption? the money in his desk?

Adr. Go fetch it, sister.-This I wonder at; [Exit LUCIANA, That he, unknown to me, should be in debt:Tell me, was he arrested on a band? Dro. S. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing; A chain, a chain: do you not hear it ring? Adr. What, the chain?

[gone:

Dro. S. No, no, the bell. 'Tis time that I were It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. Adr. The hours come back! that did I never hear. Dro. S. O yes; if any hour meet a serjeant, 'a turns back for very fear. [reason! Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly dost thou Dro. S. Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more

than he's worth, to season. Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? If he be in debt and theft, and a serjeant in the way, Hath he not reason to turn back any hour in a day? Re-enter LUCIANA.

Adr. Go, Dromio: there's the money, bear it straight,

And bring thy master home immediately.Come, sister; I am press'd down with 'conceit, Conceit, my comfort, and my injury.

SCENE III.-The Same.

[Exeunt.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, wearing the chain.
Ant. S. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me,
As if I were their well acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy:
Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And, therewithal, took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have you got the picture of old Adam new apparell'd?

Ant. S. What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?

Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf-skin that was kill'd for the prodigal: he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.

Ant. S. I understand thee not.

Dro. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, like a base-viol, in a case of leather: the man, sir, and 'rests them: he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace, than amorris-pike.

Ant. S. What, thou mean'st an officer?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, the serjeant of the band; he that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his band; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, "God give you good rest!"

Bond.-"Conceit," i. e., fanciful conception.-"To set up one's rest," signified to be firmly resolved to do a thing. A "morris-pike" is a Moorish pike, used in the 16th cen tury.

Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the serjeant to tarry for the hoy Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you.

Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I, And here we wander in illusions.

Some blessed power deliver us from hence!

Enter a Courtezan.

Cour, Well met, well met, master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
Is that the chain, you promis'd me to-day?

Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not!
Dro. S. Master, is this mistress Satan?
Ant. S. It is the devil.

Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes that the wenches say, "God damn me," that's as much as to say, "God make me a light wench." It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her.

Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? we'll mend our dinner here. Dro. S. Master, if you do expect spoon-meat, bespeak a long spoon.

Ant. S. Why, Dromio?

Dro. S. Some devils ask but the parings of one's A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherryBut she, more covetous, would have a chain. [stone; Master, be wise: an if you give it her,

[us go.

The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.
Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain.
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let
Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: mistress, that
you know.
[Exeunt ANT. and DRO.
Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad,
Else would he never so demean himself.
A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
And for the same he promis'd me a chain:
Both one and other he denies me now.
The reason that I gather he is mad,
Besides this present instance of his rage,
Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner

Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.

Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,
On purpose shut the doors against his way.
My way is now, to hie home to his house,
And tell his wife, that being lunatic,
He rush'd into my house, and took perforce
My ring away. This course I fittest choose,
For forty ducats is too much to lose.

SCENE IV.-The Same.

[Exit.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and a Jailor. Ant. E. Fear me not, man; I will not break away! I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money, To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.

My wife is in a wayward mood to-day,

And will not lightly trust the messenger:
That 1 should be attach'd in Ephesus,
I tell you, 'twill sound harshly in her ears.

Enter DROMIO of Ephesus with a rope's-end. Here comes my man: I think he brings the money.— How now, sir? have you that I sent you for?

Dro. E. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all.
Ant. E. But where's the money?

Dro. E. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope. Ant. E. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope? Dro. E. I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate. Ant. E. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home? Dro. E. To a rope's end, sir; and to that end am I return'd.

Ant. E. And to that end, sir, I will welcome you. [Beating him.

Jail. Good sir, be patient. Dro. E. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.

Jail. Good now, hold thy tongue.

Dro. E. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands. Ant. E. Thou whoreson, senseless villain! Dro. E. I would I were senseless, sir; that I might not feel your blows.

Ant. E. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass.

Dro. E. I am an ass, indeed: you may prove it by my long ears. I have serv'd him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service, but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm, he cools me with beating: I am wak'd with it, when I sleep; rais'd with it, when I sit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcomed home with it, when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door. Ant. E. Come, go along: my wife is coming yonder. Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the Courtezan, and a schoolmaster called PINCH. Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, "beware the rope's end."

[Beats him.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk? Cour. How say you now? is not your husband mad? Adr. His incivility confirms no less.Good doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer; Establish him in his true sense again, And I will please you what you will demand.

C

Luc. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks! Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his ecstasy! Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.

Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear. Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man, To yield possession to my holy prayers, And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight: I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven.

Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace! I am not mad.
Adr. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul !
Ant. E. You minion, you; are these your cus
tomers?

Did this companion with the saffron face
Revel and feast it at my house to-day,
Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut,
And I denied to enter in my house?

[home;

Adr. O, husband, God doth know, you din'd at

Long from frequent pulling.-b" Wont," i. e., is wont, accustomed to. This tremor was anciently thought to be a sure indication of demoniacal possession,-"Customers," e., familiars; intimates.-"Companion," a word of con. tempt, anciently used as we now use fellow.

Where 'would you had remain'd until this time,
Free from these slanders, and this open shame!
Ant. E. Din'd at home! Thou, villain, what say'st
thou?

Dro. E. Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at home.
Ant. E. Were not my doors lock'd
out?

up,

and I shut

shut out.

Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there? Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you there. Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me? [you.

Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence? Dro. E. In verity, you did ;-my bones bear witness, That since have felt the rigor of his rage.

Adr. Is't good to soothe him in these contraries? Pinch. It is no shame: the fellow finds his vein, And, yielding to him, humors well his frenzy. [me. Ant. E. Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to arrest Adr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you, By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.

Dro. E. Money by me! heart and good-will you But, surely, master, not a rag of money. [might; Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of

ducats!

Adr. He came to me, and I deliver'd it. Luc. And I am witness with her that she did. Dro. E. God and the rope-maker now bear me That I was sent for nothing but a rope! [witness,

Pinch. Mistress, both man and master is possessed: I know it by their pale and deadly looks. They must be bound, and laid in some dark room. Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth And why dost thou deny the bag of gold? [to-day? Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. Dro. E. And, gentle master, I receiv'd no gold; But I confess, sir, that we were lock'd out. [both. Adr. Dissembling villain! thou speak'st false in Ant. E. Dissembling harlot! thou art false in all, And art confederate with a damned pack To make a loathsome, abject scorn of me; But with these nails I'll pluck out 3 those false eyes, That would behold in me this shameful sport. Enter three or four, and bind ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO.

C

He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
Pinch. Go, bind this man, for he is frantic too.
Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?
Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
Jail. He is my prisoner: if I let him go,
The debt he owes will be requir'd of me.

Adr. I will discharge thee, ere I go from thee.
Bear me forthwith unto his creditor,
And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.
Good master doctor, see him safe convey'd
Home to my house.-O, most unhappy day!
Ant. E. O, most unhappy strumpet!
Dro. E. Master, I am here enter'd in bond for you.

e

“Perdy," a corruption of the French oath, par Dieu.Certainly; in truth.- Mad; foolish.-"How the debt grows," i. e., how it has accrued. Unlucky; mischievous.

Jail. One Angelo, a goldsmith; do you know him? Adr. I know the man. What is the sum he owes? Jail. Two hundred ducats.

Adr. Say, how grows it due? Jail. Due for a chain your husband had of him. Adr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not. Cour. When as your husband, all in rage, to-day Came to my house, and took away my ring, (The ring I saw upon his finger now) Straight after did I meet him with a chain. Adr. It but I did never see it.may be 80, Come, jailor, bring me where the goldsmith is: I long to know the truth hereof at large.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, with his rapier drawn, and DROMIO of Syracuse.

Jail.

Luc. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again. Adr. And come with naked swords. Let's call To have them bound again. [more help, Away! they'll kill us. Exeunt ADRIANA, LUCIANA, and Jailor. Ant. S. I see, these witches are afraid of swords. Dro. S. She, that would be your wife, now ran from you. [thence: Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from I long, that we were safe and sound aboard. do us no harm; you saw they spake us fair, gave Dro. S. Faith, stay here this night, they will surely us gold. Methinks they are such a gentle nation, that but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims

4

marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still, and turn witch.

Ant. S. I will not stay to-night for all the town; Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard. [Exeunt.

Enter Merchant and ANGelo. Ang. I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd you; But, I protest, he had the chain of me, Though most dishonestly he doth deny it. Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the city? Ang. Of very reverend reputation, sir, Of credit infinite, highly belov'd, Second to none that lives here in the city: His word might bear my wealth at any time. Mer. Speak softly: yonder, as I think, he walks. Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse. Ang. 'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck, Which he forswore most monstrously to have. Good sir, draw near 5 with me, I'll speak to him.Signior Antipholus, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble; And not without some scandal to yourself, With circumstance and oaths so to deny This chain, which now you wear so openly: You have done wrong to this my honest friend; Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment, Who, but for staying on our controversy,

Becomes.- Baggage.