The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

Ant. E. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me ?

Dro. E. Will you be bound for nothing ? be mad,

Good master; cry, the devil.

Luc. God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk!

me.

Adr. Go, bear him hence. Sister, go you with [Exeunt Pinch and Assistants with Antipholus and Dromio.

Say now, whose suit is he arrested at? Of. One Angelo, a goldsmith: Do you know him?

Adr. I know the man What is the sum he owes ?

Offi. Two hundred ducats.
Adr.

Say, how grows it due? Offi. Due for a chain, your husband had of him. Adr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.

Cour. When as your husband, all in rage, to

day Came to my house, and took away my ring, (The ring I saw upon his finger now,) Straight after, did I meet him with a chain. Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it:Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is, I long to know the truth hereof at large.

Enter Antipholus of 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 call

more help,

To have them bound again.
Offi.

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. 1 will not stay to-night for all the town; Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

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, 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. 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

at 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 7
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

you;

But, I protest, he had the chain of me,

Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.

city ?

Ang. Of very reverend reputation, sir,

SCENE I. The same.

Enter Merchant and Angelo.

Ang. I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd Adr. As roughly, as my modesty would let me.

Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the Adr. It was the copy of our conference:

Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,
Second to none that lives here in the city:

him. Adr. Why, so I did. Abb.

Ay, but not rough enough.

His word might bear my wealth at any time. Mer. Speak softly: yonder, as I think, he

Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.

Abb. And therefore came it, that the man was

walks.

mad:

Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue,
But moody and duil 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 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 hus

band forth.

Abb. Neither; he took this place for sanctuary. And it shall privilege him froin 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 it is my office,

Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command. Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help.

Duke. Long since, thy husband serv'd me in my wars;

And I to thee engag'd 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.

And will have no attorney 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:

It is a branch and parcel of mire 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
(Exit Abbess.

him.

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 publickly 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; Egeon bare-headed;
with the Headsman and other Officers.
Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publickly,
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, cearing 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,

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.
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 nave 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, 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

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

Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here 1
Cour. As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.

Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on Duke. Why, this is strange; Go call the abnight,

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;
Neither disturbed 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,

bess hither;

I think, you are all mated, or stark mad.

[Erit an Attendant. Æge. 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, 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,

For certain ducats: he with none return'd.

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.

Ant. E I never saw you in my life, till now.
Ege. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you

saw me last;

I did obey; and sent my peasant home

Then fairly I bespoke the officer,

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 7

Ant. E. Neither.

Ege.

Dromio, nor thou ?

My wife, her sister, and a rabble more

I am sure, thou dost.

To go in person with me to my house.

By the way we met

Of vile confederates; along with them

Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I.
Ege.

They brought one Pinch; a hungry lean-fac'd Dro. E. Ay, sir? but I am sure, I do not, and

villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare 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.
Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with

here,
These people saw the chain about his neck.
Mer. Besides, I will be sworn, these ears
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.
Ant. E. I never came within these ese 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. 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, he dined at home; the goldsmith here
Denies that saying:-Sirrah, what say you?
Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there, at the
Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd
that ring.
Ant E. 'Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of

Porcupine.

her.

whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

Æge. Not know my voice! O, time's extre

mity!
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 lamp 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.

Ant. E. I never saw my father in my life.
Æge. But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy,
Thou know'st we parted: but, perhaps, my son,
Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery.
Ant. E. The duke, and all that know me in this
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.

That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:
O, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak,
And speak unto the same Æmilia!
Æge. If I dream not, thou art Æmilia;
If thou art she, tell me, where is that son
That floated with thee on the fatal raft?

Abb. By men of Epidamnum, he, and 1,
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.

And thereupon these errors are arose.
Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father
here.

Duke. It shall not need, thy father hath his life.
Cour. Sir, I must have that diamond from you.
Ant. E. There, take it; and much thanks for

my good cheer.

Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains
To go with us into the abbey here,
And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes :-
And all that are assembled in this place,
That by this sympathized one day's error
Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company,

Duke. Why here begins his morning story And we shall make full satisfaction.

right;

These two Antipholuses, these two so alike,

And these two Dromioes, 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 cam'st from Corinth first.
Ant. S. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.
Duke. Stay, stand apart; I know not which is

which.

Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most gra

cious lord.

Twenty-five years have I but gone in travail
Of you, my sons, and till this present hour;
My heavy burden here delivered.

The duke, my husband, and my children both,
And you the calendars of their nativity,
Go to a gossip's feast, and go with me:
After so long grief, such

nativity!

Duke. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.
[Exeunt Duke, Abbess, Ægeon, Courtezan,
Merchant, Angelo, and Attendants.
Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from
Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou

ship-board ?

embark'd?

Dro. S. Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the
Centaur.

Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon:
Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.

Ant. S. He speaks to me; I am your master,

Dromio;

And are not you my husband?

Ant. E. No, I say nay to that.

Ant. S. And so do 1, yet did she call me so;

And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,
Did call me brother:-What I told you then,
I hope, I shall have leisure to make good:

[Exeunt Ant. S. and Ant. E. Adr. and Luc. Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's

house,

If this be not a dream I see and hear.

That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner;
She now shall be my sister, not my wife.

Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of Dro. E. Methinks, you are my glass, and not

Ant. S. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, Dro. E. Nay; then thus:

SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, General The Ghost of Banquo, and several other Appa

of the English Forces.

ritions.

SCENE-In the end of the Fourth Act, lies in England; through the rest of the play, in

-Give me, quoth I:

Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the
Tiger:

But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.
1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other;

And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;

He shall live a man forbid:
Weary sev'n nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest toss'd.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Show me, show me.
1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A drum, a drum;

Macbeth doth come.

[Drum within.

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about;

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again to make up nine:
Peace! the charm's wound up.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores 7-What are

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane

of Cawdor!

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: From the Text of the Corrected ...