William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

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.

AEGEON.

Unless the fear of death doth make me dote,

I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

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!

Beyond imagination is the wrong

That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.

DUKE.

Discover how, and thou shalt find me just.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

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?

ADRIANA.

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 withal!

LUCIANA.

Ne’er may I look on day nor sleep on night

But she tells to your highness simple truth!

ANGELO.

O peflur’d woman! they are both forsworn.

In this the madman justly chargeth them.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

My liege, I am advised what I say;

Neither disturb’d with the effect of wine,

Nor, heady-rash, provok’d 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,

Where Balthazar and I did dine together.

Our dinner done, and he 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, I saw not: for the which

He did arrest me with an officer.

I did obey, and sent my peasant home

For certain ducats: he with none return’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: along with them

They brought one Pinch; a hungry lean-faced villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller;

A needy, hollow-ey’d, sharp-looking wretch;

A living dead man; this pernicious slave,

Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer;

And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,

And with no face, as ‘twere, outfacing me,

Cries out, I was possess’d: then altogether

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

And in a dark and dankish 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 your grace; whom I beseech

To give me ample satisfaction

For these deep shames and great indignities.

ANGELO.

My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him,

That he din’d not at home, but was lock’d out.

DUKE.

But had he such a chain of thee, or no?

ANGELO.

He had, my lord: and when he ran in here

These people saw the chain about his neck.

MERCHANT.

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.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

I never came within these abbey walls,

Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me:

I never saw the chain, so help me heaven!

And this is false you burden me withal.

DUKE.

What an intricate impeach is this!

I think you all have drunk 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 say he din’d at home: the goldsmith here

Denies that saying:—Sirrah, what say you?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS.

Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porcupine.

COURTEZAN.

He did; and from my finger snatch’d that ring.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

‘Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her.

DUKE.

Saw’st thou him enter at the abbey here?

COURTEZAN.

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 stark mad.

[Exit an Attendant.]

AEGEON.

Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word;

Haply, I see a friend will save my life

And pay the sum that may deliver me.

DUKE.

Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt.

AEGEON.

Is not your name, sir, call’d Antipholus?

And is not that your bondman Dromio?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS.

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.

AEGEON.

I am sure you both of you remember me.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS.

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?

AEGEON.

Why look you strange on me? you know me well.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

I never saw you in my life, till now.

AEGEON.

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?

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

Neither.

AEGEON.

Dromio, nor thou?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS.

No, trust me, sir, nor I.

AEGEON.

I am sure thou dost.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not; and whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

AEGEON.

Not know my voice! O time’s extremity!

Hast thou so crack’d and splitted 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.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

I never saw my father in my life.

AEGEON.

But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy,

Thou know’st we parted; but perhaps, my son,

Thou sham’st to acknowledge me in misery.

ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.

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, Syracusan, twenty years

Have I been patron to Antipholus,

During which time he ne’er saw Syracusa:

I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.

[Enter the ABBESS, with ANTIPHOLUS SYRACUSAN and DROMIO

SYRACUSAN.]

ABBESS.

Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong’d.

[All gather to see them.]

ADRIANA.

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?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.

I, sir, am Dromio; command him away.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS.

I, sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay.