Came to my house, and took away my ring, (The ring I saw upon his finger now), Straight after, did I meet him with a chain.

Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it: Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is, I long to know the truth hereof at large.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, with his rapier drawn, and DROMIO of Syracuse.

Luc. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again. Adr. And come with naked swords; let's call more help,

To have them bound again.

Off.

Away, they'll kill us. [Exeunt Officer, ADR. and Luc. Ant. S. I see, these witches are afraid of swords. Dro. S. She, that would be your wife, now ran from you.

Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff11 from thence:

I long, that we were safe and sound aboard.

Dro. S. Faith, stay here this night, they will surely do us no harm; you saw, they speak us fair, give us gold: methinks, they are such a gentle nation, that but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still, and turn witch.

Ant. S. I will not stay to-night for all the town; Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard. [Exeunt.

11 i. e. baggage. Stuff is the genuine old English word for all moveables. 'Baggage,' says Baret, is borrowed of the French, and signifyeth all such stuffe as may hinder or trouble us in warre or traveling, being not worth carriage, impedimenta.' Thus Lord Bacon:- I cannot call riches better than the baggage of virtue; the Romane word impedimenta is better; for as the baggage is to an armie, so is riches to vertue: it cannot be spared, nor left behind; but it hindreth the march, yea, and the care of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory.'

Enter Merchant and ANGelo.

Ang. I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd you; But, I protest, he had the chain of me, Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.

Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the city? Ang. Of very reverend reputation, sir,

Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,

Second to none that lives here in the city;
His word might bear my wealth at any time.
Mer. Speak softly: yonder, as I think, he walks.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse.
Ang. 'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck,
Which he forswore, most monstrously, to have.
Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him.
Signior Antipholus, I wonder much

That you would put me to this shame and trouble;
And not without some scandal to yourself,
With circumstance, and oaths, so to deny
This chain, which now you wear so openly:
Besides the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
You have done wrong to this my honest friend;
Who, but for staying on our controversy,
Had hoisted sail, and put to sea to-day:
This chain you had of me, can you deny it?
Ant. S. I think, I had; I never did deny it.
Mer. Yes, that you did, sir; and forswore it too.
Ant. S. Who heard me to deny it, or forswear it?
Mer. These ears of mine, thou knowest, did hear
thee:

Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity, that thou liv'st
To walk where any honest men resort.

Ant. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
I'll prove mine honour, and mine honesty
Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand.
Mer. I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.
[They draw.

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, Courtezan, and others. Adr. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake; he is mad;

Some get within him 1, take his sword away:
Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.
Dro. S. Run, master, run; for God's sake take a
house 2.

This is some priory;-In, or we are spoil'd.

[Exeunt ANTIPH. and DRO. to the Priory.

Enter the Abbess.

Abb. Be quiet, people; Wherefore throng you

hither?

Adr. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence: Let us come in, that we may bind him fast, And bear him home for his recovery.

Ang. I knew, he was not in his perfect wits. Mer. I am sorry now, that I did draw on him. Abb. How long hath this possession held the man? Adr. This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad, And much different from the man he was; But, till this afternoon, his passion

Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.

Abb. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea?

1 i. e. close, grapple with him.

2 i. e. go into a house: we still say that a dog takes the water.

Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye
Stray'd his affection in unlawful love?
A sin, prevailing much in youthful men,
Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.
Which of these sorrows is he subject to?

Adr. To none of these, except it be the last; Namely, some love, that drew him oft from home. Abb. You should for that have reprehended him. Adr. Why, so I did.

Abb.

Ay, but not rough enough. Adr. As roughly, as my modesty would let me.

Abb. Haply, in private.

Adr.

Abb. Ay, but not enough.

3

And in assemblies too.

Adr. It was the copy of our conference:
In bed, he slept not for my urging it;
At board, he fed not for my urging it;

3 The COPY,' says Steevens, that is, the theme. We still talk of setting copies for boys!' Surely a boy's copy is not a theme? and that word occurs again in the fourth line of this speech. 'Our poet frequently uses copy for pattern,' says Malone. So in Twelfth Night:- And leave the world no copy.' I believe Malone's frequently may be reduced to two other instances, one in Henry V. and another in a sonnet. I am persuaded that copy in the present instance neither means theme nor pattern, but copie, plenty, copious source, an old latinism, many times used by Ben Jonson. So Puttenham in his Arte of Poesie, 1589, book i. ch. 14:- Cicero,' said Roscius, 'contended with him by varietie of lively gestures to surmount the copy (i. e. copiousness) of his speech." So Cooper in his dictionary :-' Copiose et abundanter loqui, to use his words with great copie and abundance of eloquence.' The word is spelt copie in the folio; and in King Henry V. where it means pattern, example, it is spelt copy. But the sense of the passage here will show that my interpretation is right. Mr. Gifford is correct in saying that the word was not introduced by Jonson; it is to be found in Horman's Vulgaria, printed in 1519. The latest vocabulary in which I find it is Bullokar's Expositor, 1616, of which there are later editions. It is not in Philips's Dictionary. Luckily,' says Mr. Gifford, its uncouthness has long since banished it from the language which it only served to stiffen and deform.'

6

Alone, it was the subject of my theme;
In company, I often glanced it;

Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.

Abb. And therefore came it, that the man was mad : The venom clamours of a jealous woman Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. It seems his sleeps were hindered by thy railing: And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings: Unquiet meals make ill digestions,

Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;

And what's a fever but a fit of madness?
Thou say'st his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls;
Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue,
But moody and dull melancholy,

(Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair);
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop*
Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life?
In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest
To be disturb'd, would mad or man, or beast;
The consequence is then, thy jealous fits
Have scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.

Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himself rough, rude, and wildly.Why bear you these rebukes, and answer not?

4 I think that there is no doubt that this passage has suffered by incorrect printing; I am not satisfied with it, even with the parenthesis in which the third line is enclosed by Steevens. The second line evidently wants a word of two syllables, and I feel inclined to read the passage thus:

'Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue,
But moody [madness] and dull melancholy,
Kinsmen to grim and comfortless despair;
And at their heels a huge infectious troop?'

Heath proposed a similar emendation, but placed moping where I have placed madness. Malone has admitted the reading 'their' into his text, but for other reasons.