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Albeit, my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down,
go in person with me to my house.
? 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;
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;
mated,] See p. 259, n. 6. MALONE.
And careful hours, with Time's deformed * hand
ANT. E. Neither.
Dromio, nor thou?
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?
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,