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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

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,

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 vil,

A meer anatomy, a mountebank,
A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller ;
A needy, hollow-ey'd, tharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man: this pernicious Nave,
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

? A living dead man:] This thought appears to have been bor. rowed from

Sackvil's Induction to the Mirror for Magistrates :

but as a lyuing death, " So ded aline of life hee drew the breath." STEEVENS.

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 Thames and great indignities.
Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with

him; That he dined not at home, but was lock'd out.

Duke. But had he such a chain of thee, or no? Ang. He had, my lord: and when he ran in

here, These people saw the chain about his neck. Mer. 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.

Ant. E. 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. Why, what an intricate impeach is this ! I think, you all have drank 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 Porcupine.

Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd that

ring. Ant. E. 'Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of

her. Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here? Cour. As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace. DUKE. Why, this is strange:-Go call the ab,

bess hither; I think, you are all mated, or stark mad.

[Exit 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


deliver me. Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou wilt.

EGE. Is not your name, sir, callid Antipholus ? And is not that your bondman Dromio? Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman,

fir, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords; Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound.

Ege. I am sure, you both of you remember me, Dro. E. 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? EGE. Why look you strange on me? you know

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

faw me lait;

fince you


mated,] See p. 259, n. 6. MALONE.

And careful hours, with Time's deformed * hand
Have written ftrange defeatures in my face:
But tell me yét, dost thou not know my voice?

ANT. E. Neither.

Dromio, nor thou?
Dro. E. No, trust me, fir, nor I.

I am sure, thou dost. Dro. E. Ay, sir? but I am sure, I do not; and 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


deformed -] For deforming. Steevens. Sifrange defeatures --] Defeature is the privative of feature. The meaning is, time hath cancelled my features. Johnson.

Defeatures are undoings, miscarriages, misfortunes; from de faire, Fr. So, in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1599:

“ The day before the night of my defeature, (i. e. undoing.)

He greets me with a casket richly wrought.” The sense is, I am deformed, undone, by misery. Misfortune has left its impression on my face. STÉEVENS.

Defeature is, I think, alteration of feature, marks of deformity, So, in our author's Venus and Adonis :

to cross the curious workmanship of nature, To mingle beauty with infirmities,

“ And pure perfection with impure defeaturi.MALONE. Defeatures are certainly neither more nor less than features; as demerits are neither more nor less than merits. Time, says Ægeon, hath placed new and Arange features in my face; i. e. given it quite a different appearance: no wonder therefore thou doft not know me. Ritson.

you are now bound to believe him.] Dromio is still quibbling on his favourite topick. See p. 308. MALONE.


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,) o

me, thou art my fon Antipholus. Ant. E. I never saw


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 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,


-my feeble key of untun'd cares?] i. e. the weak and difcordant tone of my voice that is changed by grief. Douce.

8 this grained face —] i.e. furrow'd, like the grain of wood. So, in Coriolanus :

my grained ash.” Steevens. 9 All these old witnefles (I cannot err,)] I believe should be read :

All these hold witnesses I cannot err. i. e. all these continue to testify that I cannot err, and tell me, &c.

WARBURTON. The old reading is the true one, as well as the most poetical. The words I cannot err, should be thrown into a parenthesis. By old witnesses I believe he means experienced, accustom'd ones, which are therefore less likely to err. So, in The Tempest:

“ If there be true spies that I wear in my head," &c. Again, in Titus Andronicus, fc. ult:

“ But if my frofty figns and chaps of age,
Grave witnesses of true experience," &c. STEVENS.

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