William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare

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.