E. Ant.
Justice, most gracious Duke, oh, grant me justice.
Even for the service that long since I did thee,
When I bestrid thee in the wars, and took
Deep scars to save thy life, even for the blood
That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.

Ægeon.
Unless the fear of death doth make me dote,
I see my son Antipholis, and Dromio.

E. Ant.
Justice, sweet Prince, against that woman there:
She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife;
That hath abused and dishonour'd me,
Ev'n 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.

E. Ant.
This day, great Duke, she shut the doors upon me;
Whilst she with harlots feasted in my house.

Duke.
A grievous fault; say, woman, didst thou so?

Adr.
No, my good lord: myself, he, and my sister,
To day did dine together: so befal my soul,
As this is false, he burthens me withal!

Luc.
Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night,
But she tells to your highness simple truth!

Ang.
O perjur'd woman! they are both forsworn.
In this the mad-man justly chargeth them.

E. Ant.
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 from 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 th' way we met my wife, her sister, and
A rabble more of vile confederates;
They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villain,
&plquo;A meer anatomy, a mountebank,
&plquo;A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller,

&plquo;A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch,
&plquo;A living dead man.&prquo; This pernicious slave,
Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer;
And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no-face, as 'twere, out-facing me,
Cries out, I was possest. Then all together
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 asunder,
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 him;
That he din'd 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're come by miracle.

E. Ant.
I never came within these abbey walls,
Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me;
I never saw the chain, so help me heav'n!
And this is false, you burthen 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 din'd at home; the goldsmith here
Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?

E. Dro.
Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Porcupine.

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

E. Ant.
'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 Abbess hither;
I think, you are all mated, or stark mad. [Exit one to the Abbess.

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