Ang. See, where they come; we will behold his death. [abbey. Luc. Kneel to the duke, before he pass the Enter Duke attended; ÆGEON 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 ! Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend lady; It cannot be, that she hath done thee wrong. Adr. May it please your grace, Antipholus, my husband, Whom I made lord of me and all I had, By rushing in their houses, bearing thence my wars; And I to thee engag'd a prince's word, And bid the lady abbess come to me; Enter a Servant. Serv. O mistress, mistress, shift 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 singed off with brands of fire; And ever as it blaz'd, they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair; My master preaches patience to him, and the while His man with scissars nicks him like a fool; And, sure, unless you send some present help, Between them they will kill the conjurer. Adr. Peace, fool, thy master and his man are here; And that is false, thou dost report to us. Ser. 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, bark, 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, oh, grant me justice! Even for the service that long since I did thee, When I bestrid thee in the wars, and took Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice. Ege. Unless the fear of death doth make me I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio. [dote, Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there. She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife; That hath abused and dishonour'd me, Even in the strength and height of injury! 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, didst thou so? [sister, Adr. No, my good lord ;-myself, he, and my To-day did dine together: So befall my soul, As this is false he burdens me withal! 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 for sworn. In this the madman justly chargeth them. Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say; Could witness it, for he was with me then; I did obey; and sent my peasant home To go in person with me to my house. By the way we met My wife, her sister, and a rabble more They brought one Pinch; a hungry lean-fac'd villain, A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune teller; And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, 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, And, thereupon, I drew my sword on you: Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this! Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porcupine. [her. Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd 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 starle mad. [Exit an Attendant. Ege. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word; Haply I see a friend will save my life, Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, 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. Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now. Ege. Oh! grief hath chang'd 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? Ant E. Neither. Ege. Dromio, nor thou? Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I. 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. Ege. Not know my voice! O, time's extremity! [tongue, Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor 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, |