DUKE

Merchant of Siracusa, plead no more. I am not partial to infringe our Laws; The enmity and discord which of late Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke, To Merchant's our well-dealing Countrymen, Who wanting gilders to redeem their lives, Have sealed his rigorous statutes with their bloods, Excludes all pity from our threatening looks: For since the mortal and intestine jars Betwixt thy seditious Countrymen and us, It hath in solemn Synods been decreed, Both by the Siracusians and our selves, To admit no traffic to our adverse towns: Nay more, if any born at Ephesus Be seen at any Siracusian Marts and Fairs: Again, if any Siracusian born Come to the Bay of Ephesus, he die: His goods confiscate to the Dukes dispose, Unless a thousand marks be levied To quit the penalty, and to ransom him: Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, Cannot amount unto a hundred Marks, Therefore by Law thou art condemned to die. And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Do me the favour to dilate at full, What have befallen of them and they till now. Hapless Egeon whom the fates have marked To bear the extremity of dire mishap: Now trust me, were it not against our Laws, Against my Crown, my oath, my dignity, Which Princes would they may not disannul, My soul should sue as advocate for thee: But though thou art adjudged to the death, And passed sentence may not be recalled But to our honours great disparagement: Yet will I favour thee in what I can; Therefore Merchant, I'll limit thee this day To seek thy help by beneficial help, Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus, Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, And live: if no, then thou art doomed to die: Jailer, take him to thy custody. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, If any friend will pay the sum for him, He shall not die, so much we tender him. She is a virtuous and a reverend Lady, It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong. Long since thy husband served me in my wars And I to thee engaged a Princes word, When thou didst make him Master of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go some of you, knock at the Abbey gate, And bid the Lady Abbess come to me: I will determine this before I stir. O Mistress, Mistress, shift and save your self, My Master and his man are both broke lose, Beaten the Maids arrow, and bound the Doctor, Whose beard they have sindg'd off with brands of fire, And ever as it blazed, they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair; My M r preaches patience to him, and the while His man with Cizers nicks him Like a fool: And sure (unless you send some present help) Between them they will kill the Conjurer. Come stand by me, fear nothing: guard with Halberds. Discover how, and thou shalt find me joust. A grievous fault: say woman, didst thou so? But had he such a Chain of thee, or no? Why what and intricate impeach is this? I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup: If here you housed 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? Sawest thou him enter at the Abbey here? Why this is strange: Go call the Abbess him there. I think you are all mated, or stark mad. Speak freely Siracusian what thou wilt. I tell thee Siracusian, twenty years Have I been Patron to Antipholus, During which time, he never saw Siracusa : I see thy age and dangers make thee dote. 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? Why here begins his Morning story right: These two Antipholus, these two so Like, And these two Dromio's, one in semblance: Beside her urging of her wrack at sea, These are the parents to these children, Which accidentally are met together. Antipholus thou camest from Corinth first. Stay, stand apart, I know not which is which. It shall not need, thy father hath his life. With all my heart, I'll Gossip at this feast. Well Siracusian ; say in brief the cause Why thou departedst from thy native home? And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus. Nay forward old man, do not break off so, For we may pity, though not pardon thee.