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, By rushing in their houses, bearing thence Once did I get him bound, and sent him home, ; He broke from those that had the guard of him wars.; And I to thee engag'd a prince's word, Enter a Servant. Serv. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself! My master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor, Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire; And ever as it blazed, they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair : My master preaches patience to him, while His man with scissars 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. Serv. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true; I have 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 reason. Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Ephesus. Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke, oh, grant me justice! Even for the service that long since I did thee, To-day did dine together: So befal my soul, Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say; I did obey; and sent my peasant home My wife, her sister, and a rabble more A meer anatomy, a mountebank, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller; For these deep shames, 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. 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. Ege. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word, Haply, I see a friend will save my life, 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, sir, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords: Ege. I am sure, you both of you remember me. Ant. E. I never saw you in my life, till now. Æge. Oh! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me last; And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand, Ege. Dromio, nor thou? Dro. E. No, trust me, sir, nor I. Ege. 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 nim. Ege. 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,) Tell me, thou art my son Antipholus. Ant. E. I never saw my father in my life. Ege. 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 year: Abb. Most mighty Duke, behold a man much 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? Dro. S. I, sir, am Dromio; command him away. Dro. E. I, sir, am Dromio; pray, let me stay. Ant. S. Ægeon, art thou not? or else his ghost? Dro. S. O, my old master, who hath bound him here? Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, And gain a husband by his liberty: :Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man That had'st a wife once called Æmilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons: O, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak, And speak unto the same Æmilia! Ege. If I dream not, thou art Æmilia; Abb. By men of Epidamnum, he, and I, Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right These two Antipholus's, these two so like, And these two Dromio's, 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 gracious lord. Dro. E. And I with him. Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncie. Ant. S. And so do I, yet did she call me so ; Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of T Ant. S. I think it be, sir; I deny it not. Ant. S. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. 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 shipboard? Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou Dro. S. Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the Ant. S. He speaks to me; I am your master, Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon: Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains, That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner; And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes: - The duke, my husband, and my children both, Dro. E. Methinks, you are my glass, and not I see by you, I am a sweet-faced youth. Dro. E. Nay, then thus: We came into the world like brother and brother : And now let's go hand in hand, not one betore [Baruni another. SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, general of the English forces. Lady MACDUFf. Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. HECATE, and three Witches. Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants, and Messengers. The Ghost of Banquo, and several other Apparitions. SCENE, in the end of the Fourth Act, lies in ENGLAND; through the rest of the Play, in ScOTLAND. and, chiefly, at MACBETH's Castle. - Lady MACBETH. ACT 1. SCENE I. An open Place. Thunder and Lightning. Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought Sol. The multiplying villainies of nature Like valour's minion, Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave; And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements. Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflexion Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come, Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, The worthy thare of Rosse. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look, That seems to speak things strange. Rosse. God save the king! Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky, Norway himself, with terrible numbers, The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict: Dun. Rosse. That now Great happiness! 1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister? 2 Witch. Killing swine. 3 Witch. Sister, where thou? 1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch'd and mounch'd, and mounch'd: — Give me, quoth I: Aroint thee, witch the rump-fed ronyon cries. 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. Sch. And I another. 1 Witch. I myself have all the other And the very por s they blow, All the quarters that they know l'the shipman's card. I will drain him dry as I ay: 2 Wuch. Show me, show me. 1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd, as homeward he did come. [Drum within. 3 Witch. A drum, a drum: Macbeth doth come. 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, Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. So wither'd, and so wild in their attire ; That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth, me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Macb. Speak, if you can; — What are you? 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair?--I'the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction Of noble having, and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not: And say, which grain will grow, and which will not; 1 Witch. Hail! 2 Witch. Hail! 3 Witch. Hail! 1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! 1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail! Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more : By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis Y |