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Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me;

I never saw the chain, so help me heaven;

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 Porpentine.

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.

Ege.

Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word:

Haply I see a friend will save my life,

And pay the sum that may deliver me.

Duke.

Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt.

Ege.

Is not your name, sir, call’d Antipholus?