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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 Mer. ANG. Officer, and ANT. E.
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

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

eye

and

Look'd he or red, or pale; or sad, or merrily?
What observation mad'st thou in this case,
Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face?1

Luc. First, he denied you had in him no right.2
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

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Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry foot well;"

One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls to hell.10

Adr. Why, man, what is the matter?

Dro. S. I do not know the matter : he is 'rested on the case.

Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me at whose suit. Dro. S. I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well;

But is

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,
[Erit LUCIANA.
That he, unknown to me, should be in debt:
Tell me, was he arrested on a band?12
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?

Dro. S. No, no, the bell : 'tis time that I were gone.
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 sergeant, a' turns back for very fear.

Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason?

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 he13 be in debt, and theft, and a sergeant in the

way,

IIath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
Enter LUCIANA.

Ar. Go, Dromio;
straight;

there's the money, bear it

And bring thy master home immediately.

Luc. Who would be jealous then of such a one? Come, sister: I am press'd down with conceit ;1a

No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone.

say,

Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I
And yet would herein others' eyes were worse:
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;5
My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

Conceit, my comfort, and my injury. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of

Syracuse.

Ant. S. There's not a man I meet, but doth salute me

As if I were their well acquainted friend ;' Dro. S. Here, go; the desk, the purse; sweet And every one doth call me by my name.

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 garments hath him,
One, whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;

A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that counter-
mands

The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;

1 The allusion is to those meteors which have sometimes been thought to resemble armies meeting in the shock of battle. The following comparison in the second book of Paradise Lost best explains it:

As when to wara proud cities, war appears Wag'd in the troubled sky, and armies rush To battle in the clouds, before each van Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears, Till thickest legions close; with feats of arms From either end of heaven the welkin burns.' 2 This double negative had the force of a stronger everation in the phraseology of that age. 3 Dry, withered.

Some tender money to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer nie 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 ?1

S The first folio reads, lans. Shakspeare would have put lanes but for the sake of the rhyme.

9 To hunt or run counter, signifies that the house s or beagles hunt it by the heel,' i. e. run backward, rus taking the course of the game. To draw dry foot was to follow the scent or track of the game. There is a quibble upon counter, which points at the prison so called.

10 Hell was the cant term for prison. There was a as-place of this name under the Exchequer, where the king's debtors were confined.

4 Marked or stigmatized by nature with deformity. 5 This expression, which appears to have been pro. verbial, is again alluded to in Measure for Measure, Act i. Sc. 5.

6 The buff or leather jerkin of the sergeant is called an everlasting garment, because it was se durable.

7 Theobald would read a fury; but a fairy, in Shak

11 Thus the old authentic copy. The omission of the personal pronoun was formerly very comma: wt should now write he's.

12 i. e. a bond. Shakspeare takes advantage of the old spelling to produce a quibble.

13 The old copy reads, If I, &c.'

14 Fanciful conception.

15 This actually happened to Sir H. Wetton when ca

speare's time, sometimes meant a malevolent sprite, | his travels. See Reliquia Wottonianæ, 168, p. 676.

and coupled as it is with pitiless and rough, the meaning is clear.

16 Theobald reads, What, have you got rid of the picture of old Adam? The emendation is approved misd

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's-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.

Dr. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, 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 a morris-pike.

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

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

Ant S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to night? may we begone? 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 sergeant, 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 ee, 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 e, 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, or bespeak a long spoon.*

Ant. S. Why, Dromio?

Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon, that must eat with the devil.

Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me
of supping?

Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress :
I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone.
Cour, Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd;
And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble

you.

Dro. S. Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail,

A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,

A nut, a cherry-stone: but she, more covetous,
Would have a chain.

Master, be wise; an if you give it her,
The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.
Cour. I
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;

Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let

us go.

adopted by Malone; but I think, with Johnson, that the text does not require interpolation.

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 an Officer.

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 I should be attach'd in Ephesus:
I tell you, it will 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 hurdred 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.

Off. Good sir, be patient.

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

Off. 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 served 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 waked with it, when I sleep; raised 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

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, and the Courtezan, with PINCH, and others.

Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.

4 This proverb is alluded to again in the Tempest, This unfortunate phrase is again mistaken here by Act ii. Sc. 2, p. 50:- He who eats with the devil had all the commentators. It has nothing to do with a mus-need of a long spoon."

trist; and the rest of u pike is a thing of the ima 5 In the Witch, by Middleton, when a spirit descends, gination. It is a metaphorical expression for being de- Hecate exclaims: termined, or resolutely bent to do a thing, taken from the game of Primero.

2 A morris pike is a moorish pike, commonly used in the 16th century. It was not used in the morris dance, as Johnson erroneously supposed. 3 Probably by purchasing something additional in the adjoining market.

'There's one come down to fetch his dues,

A kisse, a coll, a sip of blood,' &c.

6 i. e. punish them all by corporal correction. Falstaff says, in King Henry IV. Part 1. I have pepper'd the rogues; two of them, I'm sure, I've pay'd,'” 7 Long from frequent pulling. 9 In the old copy-and a

schoolmaster, called

Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem,' respect your end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, Beware the rope's end.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk?

[Beats him.
Cour. How say you now? is not your husband mad?
Adr. His incivility confirms no less.-
Good doctor Pinch, you are a conjuror;
Establish him in his true sense again,
And I will please you what you will demand.
Luc. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks!
Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his ecstacy!2
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.

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Did this companion with a 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?

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

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 up, and I shut out?

Dro. E. Perdy," your doors were lock'd, and
you 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?

Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal

scorn'd you.

Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence?
Dro. E. In verity you did;-my bones bear wit-

ness,

That since have felt the vigour of his rage.

Adr. Is't good to sooth him in these contraries?
Pinch. It is no shame; the fellow finds his vein,
And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy.
Ant. E. Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to

arrest me.

Adr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you, By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.'

Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day,

And why dost thou deny the bag of gold?

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.

Adr. Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in

both.

Ant. E. Dissembling harlot, thou art faise 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 these false eyes,
That would behold in me this shameful sport.

[PINCH and his Assistants bind ANT. and DRO. Adr. O, bind him, bind him, let him not come

near me.

Pinch. More company;-the fiend is strong within him.

Luc. Ah me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!
Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou gasier,
thou,

I am thy prisoner; wilt thou suffer them
To make a rescue ?

Masters, let him go;

Of.
He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
Pinch. Go, bind this man, for he is frantic too.
Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?
Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
Of. 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
I will
grows,
pay
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.
Ant. E. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou
mad me?

it.

Dro. E. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad,
Good master; cry, the devil.-

Lue. God help, poor souls, how idly do they ta'k!
Adr. Go, bear him hence.-Sister, go you with

me.

[Exeunt PINCH and Assistants with ANT.
and DRO.

Say now, whose suit is he arrested at?
Off. One Angelo, a goldsmith; Do you know him?
Adr. I know the man: What is the sum he ones?
Of. Two hundred ducats.
Adr.

Say, how grows it due'
Off. Due for a chain, your husband had of him.
Adr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it o
Cour. When as your husband, all in rage, to-day
Came to my house, and took away my ring

Dro. E. Money by me? heart and good-will you (The ring I saw upon his finger now,)

might,

But, surely, master, not a rag of money.

Straight after, did I meet him with a chain.
Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it:-

Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is,

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, bear me witness,
That I was sent for nothing but a rope!

Pinch. Mistress, both man and master is possess'd;
I know it by their pale and deadly looks:
They must be bound, and laid in some dark room.

Pinch. As learning was necessary for an exorcist, the schoolmaster was often employed. Within a very few years, in country villages the pedagogue was still a reputed conjuror.

1 Buchanan wrote a pamphlet against the Lord of Liddington, which ends with these words: respice firem, respice funem. Shakspeare's quibble may be borrow ed from this. The parrot's prophecy may be understood by means of the following lines in Hudibras:

"Could tell what subtlest parrots mean,
That speak and think contrary clean;
What member 'ts of whom they talk,
When they cry rope, and talk, knave, walk.

2 This tremor was anciently thought to be a sure indication of being possessed by the devil.

I long to know the truth hereof at large.

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

Luc. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again.
Adr. And come with naked swords; let's cal
more help,
To have them bound again.

3A customer,' says Malone, is used in Othell fr a common woman. Here it seems to signify one who visits such women," It is surprising that a man ke Malone, whose life had been devoted to the study at d elucidation of Shakspeare, should so often seem igifr24 of the language of the poet's time. 'A customer was a familiar, an intimate, a customary haunter of coa place; as any of the old dictionaries would have shown him under the word consuetudo or custom.

4 Companion is a word of contempt, anciently usel as we now use fellow.

5 A corruption of the common French oath par diru 6 Vide before, p. 345, note 6.

7 Unhappy for unlucky, i. e. mischievous.

Of Away, they'll kill us.

[Exeunt Officer, ADR. and Luc. Ant. S. I see, these witches are afraid of swords. Dro. S. She, that would be your wife, now ran from you.

Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff' from thence:

I long, that we were safe and sound aboard.

Dro. S. Faith, stay here this night, they will surely do us no harm; you saw, they speak us fair, give us gold: methinks, they are such a gentle nation, that but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims 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.

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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 to 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:
Besides the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
You have done wrong to this my honest friend;
Who, but for staying on our controversy,
Had hoisted sail, and put to sea to-day:
This chain you had of me, can you deny it?
Ant. S. I think, I had; I never did deny it.
Mer. Yes, that you did, sir; and forswore it too.
Ant. S. Who heard me to deny it, or forswear it?
Mer. These ears of mine, thou knowest, did hear
thee:

Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity, that thou liv'st
To walk where any honest men resort.
Ant. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty
Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand.
Mer. I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.

[They draw. Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, Courtezan, and others. Adr. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake; he is

mad;

Some get within him,2 take his sword away:
Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.
Dro. S. Run, master, run; for God's sake take

a house.

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

[Exeunt ANTIPH. and DRO. to the Priory.

1 i. e. baggage. Stuff is the genuine old English word for all moveables.

2 i. e. close, grapple with him.

3 i. e. go into a house: we still say that a dog takes

the water.

4The copy,' says Steevens, that is, the theme. We still talk of setting copies for boys! Surely a boy's copy is not a theme? and that word occurs again in the fourth line of this speech. Our poet frequently uses copy for pattern,' says Malone. So in Twelfth Night: And leave the world no copy. I believe Malone's frequently may be reduced to two other instances, one in Henry V. and another in a sounet. I am persuaded that copy in the present instance neither means theme nor pattern, but copie, plenty, copious source, an old latinism, many times used by Ben Jonson. The word is spelt copie in the folio; and in King Henry V. where

Enter the Abbess.

Abb. Be quiet, people; Wherefore throng you
hither?

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.

Abb. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of
sea?

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.
Abb. Haply, in private.

Adr.

And in assemblies too. Abb. Ay, but not enough.

In bed, he slept not for my urging it;
Adr. It was the copy of our conference:
At board, he fed not for my urging it;
Alone, it was the subject of my theme;
In company, I often glanced it;

Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.

Abb. And therefore came it, that the man was 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 thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings: Unquiet meals make ill digestions, Thereof the raging fire of fever bred; And what's a fever but a fit of madness? Thou say'st his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls; Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, But moody and dull melancholy, (Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair ;) And, at her heels, a huge infectious troops Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life? In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest To be disturb'd, would mad or man or beast; The consequence is then, thy jealous fits Have scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.

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,
And it shall privilege him from your hands,
Till I have brought him to his wits again,
Or lose my labour in assaying it.

Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, Diet his sickness, for it is my office,

But the

it means pattern, example, it is spelt copy. sense of the passage here will show that my interpretation is right.

5 I think that there is no doubt that this passage has suffered by incorrect printing; I am not satisfied with it, even with the parenthesis in which the third line is enclosed by Steevens. The second line evidently wants a word of two syllables, and I feel inclined to read the passage thus:

"Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, But moody [madness] and dull melancholy Kinsmen to grim and comfortless despair; And at their heels a huge infectious troop?" Heath proposed a similar emendation, but placed moping where I have placed madness.

And will have no attorney1 but myself;
And therefore let me have him home with me.
Abb. Be patient; for I will not let him stir,
Till I have us'd the approved means I have,
With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers
To make of him a formal man again:2
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
A charitable duty of my order;
Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.
Adr. I will not hence, and leave my husband here;
And ill it doth beseem your holiness,
To separate the husband and the wife.
Abb. Be quiet, and depart, thou shalt not have
him.
[Exit Abbess.
Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indignity.
Adr. Come, go; I will fall prostrate at his feet,
And never rise 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 five:
Anon, I am sure, the duke himself in person
Comes this way to the melancholy vale;
The place of death and sorry 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 publicly for his offence.

Ang. See, where they come; we will behold his death.

Luc. Kneel to the duke, before he pass the abbey. Enter Duke attended; GEON 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,

At

your important letters,-this ill day A most outrageous fit of madness took him; That desperately he hurried through the street (With him his bondman, all as mad as he,) Doing displeasure to the citizens

By rushing in their houses, bearing thence Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like. Once did I get him bound, and sent him home, Whilst to take orders for the wrongs I went, That here and there his fury had committed. Anon, I wote 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 hind them: then they fled Into this abbey, whither we pursued them; And here the abbess shuts the gates on us, And will not suffer us to fetch him out, Nor send him forth, that we may bear him hence. Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command, Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help. Duke. Long since, thy husband served me in my

wars;

And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,
When thou didst make him master of thy bed,

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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 this, before I stir.
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 conjuror.

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, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, begone. 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 housed 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, 1" 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 dote,
I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio.

Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, against that wo-
man 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!
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

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Adr. No, my good lord;-myself, he, and my
sister,

To-day did dine together: So befall my soul,
As this is false he burdens me witha!!

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 advised' what I say;
Neither disturbed with the effect of wine,
Nor heady rash, provoked with raging ire,
Albeit, my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner;
That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
Could witness it, for he was with me then;
Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
Promising to bring it to the Porcupine,

Choice of Change, 1598.
which provoke other men to laugh at their follies.
"Three things used by monks
1. They are shaven and notched on the head like fooles?
Florio explains, zuccone, a shaven pate, a notted poll,
a poll-pate, a gull, a ninnie,

10 This act of friendship is frequently mentioned by

6 To wot is to know. Strong escape is an escape Shakspeare. effected by strength or violence.

7 Are is here inaccurately put for have.

8 i. e. successively, one after another.

9 The heads of fools were shaved, or their hair cut close, as appears by the following passage in The

11 Harlot was a term anciently applied to a rogue or base person among men, as well as to wantons among women. See Todd's Johnson.

rashly and precipitately,
12 I speak with consideration and circumspectly not

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