Complete Plays, The

by William Shakespeare

  Thou say’st his meat was sauced 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 hinderd 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 troop

  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 scared thy husband from the use of wits.

  Luciana

  She never reprehended him but mildly,

  When he demean’d himself rough, rude and wildly.

  Why bear you these rebukes and answer not?

  Adriana

  She did betray me to my own reproof.

  Good people enter and lay hold on him.

  Aemelia

  No, not a creature enters in my house.

  Adriana

  Then let your servants bring my husband forth.

  Aemelia

  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.

  Adriana

  I will attend my husband, be his nurse,

  Diet his sickness, for it is my office,

  And will have no attorney but myself;

  And therefore let me have him home with me.

  Aemelia

  Be patient; for I will not let him stir

  Till I have used the approved means I have,

  With wholesome syrups, drugs and holy prayers,

  To make of him a formal man again:

  It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,

  A charitable duty of my order.

  Therefore depart and leave him here with me.

  Adriana

  I will not hence and leave my husband here:

  And ill it doth beseem your holiness

  To separate the husband and the wife.

  Aemelia

  Be quiet and depart: thou shalt not have him.

  Exit

  Luciana

  Complain unto the duke of this indignity.

  Adriana

  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.

  Second Merchant

  By this, I think, the dial points at five:

  Anon, I’m 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.

  Angelo

  Upon what cause?

  Second Merchant

  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.

  Angelo

  See where they come: we will behold his death.

  Luciana

  Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey.

  Enter Duke Solinus, attended; Aegeon bareheaded; with the Headsman and other Officers

  Duke Solinus

  Yet once again proclaim it publicly,

  If any friend will pay the sum for him,

  He shall not die; so much we tender him.

  Adriana

  Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess!

  Duke Solinus

  She is a virtuous and a reverend lady:

  It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.

  Adriana

  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 order for the wrongs I went,

  That here and there his fury had committed.

  Anon, I wot 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,

  Chased us away; till, raising of more aid,

  We came again to bind 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 Solinus

  Long since thy husband served me in my wars,

  And I to thee engaged a prince’s word,

  When thou didst make him master of thy bed,

  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

  Servant

  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 blazed, 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 scissors nicks him like a fool,

  And sure, unless you send some present help,

  Between them they will kill the conjurer.

  Adriana

  Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here,

  And that is false thou dost report to us.

  Servant

  Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true;

  I have not breathed 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 Solinus

  Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds!

  Adriana

  Ay 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 of Ephesus and Dromio of Ephesus

  Antipholus of Ephesus

  Justice, most gracious duke, O, 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.

  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 gavest 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 Solinus

  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 Solinus

  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 perjured woman! They are both forsworn:

  In this the madman justly chargeth them.

  Antipholus of Ephesus

  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 Porpentine,

  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 perjured goldsmith swear me down

  That I this day of him received 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-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,

  A dead-looking 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 all together

  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 dined not at home, but was lock’d out.

  Duke Solinus

  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.

  Second 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 Solinus

  Why, what an intricate impeach is this!

  I think you all have drunk of Circe’s cup.

  If here you housed him, here he would have been;

  If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly:

  You say he dined at home; the goldsmith here

  Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?

  Dromio of Ephesus

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

  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 Solinus

  Saw’st thou him enter at the abbey here?

  Courtezan

  As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.

  Duke Solinus

  Why, this is strange. Go call the abbess hither.

  I think you are all mated or stark mad.

  Exit one to Abbess

  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 Solinus

  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

  O, grief hath changed 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 untuned 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 shamest 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 Solinus

  I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years

  Have I been patron to Antipholus,

  Dur
ing which time he ne’er saw Syracusa:

  I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.

  Re-enter Aemilia, with Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse

  Aemelia

  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 Solinus

  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.

  Antipholus of Syracuse

  Aegeon art thou not? or else his ghost?

  Dromio of Syracuse

  O, my old master! who hath bound him here?

  Aemelia

  Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds

  And gain a husband by his liberty.

  Speak, old Aegeon, if thou be’st the man

  That hadst a wife once call’d Aemilia

  That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:

  O, if thou be’st the same Aegeon, speak,

  And speak unto the same Aemilia!

  Aegeon

  If I dream not, thou art Aemilia:

  If thou art she, tell me where is that son

  That floated with thee on the fatal raft?

  Aemelia

  By men of Epidamnum he and I

  And the twin Dromio all were taken up;

  But by and by rude fishermen of Corinth

  By force took Dromio and my son from them

  And me they left with those of Epidamnum.

  What then became of them I cannot tell

  I to this fortune that you see me in.

  Duke Solinus

  Why, here begins his morning story right;

  These two Antipholuses, these two so like,

  And these two Dromios, one in semblance,—

  Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,—

  These are the parents to these children,

  Which accidentally are met together.

  Antipholus, thou camest from Corinth first?

  Antipholus of Syracuse

  No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.

  Duke Solinus

  Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which.

  Antipholus of Ephesus

  I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord,—

  Dromio of Ephesus

  And I with him.

  Antipholus of Ephesus

  Brought to this town by that most famous warrior,

  Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.

  Adriana

  Which of you two did dine with me to-day?

  Antipholus of Syracuse

  I, gentle mistress.

  Adriana

  And are not you my husband?

  Antipholus of Ephesus

  No; I say nay to that.

  Antipholus of Syracuse

  And so do I; yet did she call me so:

  And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,