Egeon. 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 she this day hath shameless thrown on me. Discover how, and thou shalt find me just. This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon Angelo. O perjur'd woman! They are both forsworn: In this the madman justly chargeth them. Antipholus of Ephesus. My liege, I am advised what I say; I did obey, and sent my peasant home My wife, her sister, and a rabble more [villain, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller, 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 did'st thou draw thy sword on me. I never saw the chain, so help me heaven! And this is false you burden me withal. Duke. Why, 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, be dined 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. 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. Egeon. 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? Ægeon. Why look you strange on me? you know me well. Antipholus of Ephesus. 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? Neither. Antipholus of Ephesus. Egeon. Ægeon. 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) Fell me thou art my son Antipholus. Antipholus of Ephesus. I never saw my father in my life. Egeon. 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, Syracusian, 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 Abbess, with Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse. 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. 1, sir, am Dromio: pray let me stay. Egeon, art thou not? or else his ghost? O, my old master! who hath bound him here? Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, And gain a husband by his liberty.Speak, old Egeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once call'd Emilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons. O! if thou be'st the same Egeon, speak, And speak unto the same Emilia ! Ægeon. If I dream not, thou art Emilia. If thou art she, tell me, where is that son That floated with thee on the fatal raft? Abbess. By men of Epidamnum, he, and I, And the twin Dromio, all were taken up; Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right. No, sir, not I: I came from Syracuse. Stay, stand apart: I know not which is which. I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord. Dromio of Ephesus. Antipholus of Syracuse. This purse of ducats I received from you, It shall not need: thy father hath his life. Sir, I must have that diamond from you. cheer. Abbess. Abbess. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains The duke, my husband, and my children both, Duke. With all my heart: I'll gossip at this feast. [Exeunt Duke, Abbess, Egeon, Courtexan, Merchant, Angelo, and Attendants. Dromio of Syracuse. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard? Antipholus of Ephesus. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd? Dromio of Syracuse. Antipholus of Syracuse. He speaks to me.-I am your master, Dromin: Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon. Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him. [Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Ephesus, Adriana, and Luciana. Dromio of Syracuse. There is a fat friend at your master's house, That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner : She now shall be my sister, not my wife. Dromio of Ephesus. Methinks, you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth. Not I, sir; you are my elder. That's a question: how shall we try it? We'll draw cuts for the senior: till then, lead thou first. Dromio of Ephesus. Nay, then thus: We came into the world, like brother and brother; Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the Cen- And now, let's go hand in hand, not one before taur. another. Leonato. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio. Messenger. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion; he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how. Leonato. Leonato. You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her: they never meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between them. Beatrice. Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one; so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He. Messenger. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very hath every month a new sworn brother. much glad of it. Messenger. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness. Leonato. Did he break out into tears? I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from Claudio. the wars, or no? Messenger. O Lord! he will hang upon him like a disease: I know none of that name, lady: there was he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the none such in the army of any sort. Leonato. taker runs presently mad. God help the noble I will hold friends with you, lady. Do, good friend. Leonato. You will never run mad, niece. No, not till a hot January. Don Pedro is approached. Euter Don Pedro, John, Claudio, Benedik, Bal thacar, and ethers. You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady, for you are like an honourable father. Benedick. If signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is. Beatrice. Benedick. I noted her not; but I looked on her. Is she not a modest young lady? Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a pro I wonder that you will still be talking, signior fessed tyrant to their sex? Benedick: no body marks you. Benedick. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were. Benedick. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. Beatrice. Claudio. No; I pray thee, speak in sober judgment. Why, I'faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her; that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome, and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty, as the first of May doth the last of De A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of cember. But I hope, you have no intent to turn husband, have you? |