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And is not that your bondman, Dromio?

E. Dro.

Within this hour I was his bondman, sir,

But he, I thank him, gnaw’d in two my cords:

Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound.

Ege.

I am sure you both of you remember me.

E. Dro.

Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you;

For lately we were bound as you are now.

You are not Pinch’s patient, are you, sir?

Ege.

Why look you strange on me? You know me well.

E. Ant.

I never saw you in my life till now.

Ege.

O! grief hath chang’d me since you saw me last,

And careful hours with time’s deformed hand

Have written strange defeatures in my face:

But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?

E. Ant.

Neither.

Ege.

Dromio, nor thou?

E. Dro.

No, trust me, sir, nor I.

Ege. I am sure thou dost!

E. Dro. Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not—and whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

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?