Angelo's merchant creditor being paid, the two were friendly again, and might soon have been seen chatting before an abbey about the odd behavior of Antipholus of Ephesus. “Softly,” said the merchant at last, “that's he, I think.” It was not; it was Antipholus of Syracuse with his servant Dromio, and he wore Angelo's chain round his neck! The reconciled pair fairly pounced upon him to know what he meant by denying the receipt of the chain he had the impudence to wear. Antipholus of Syracuse lost his temper, and drew his sword, and at that moment Adriana and several others appeared. “Hold!” shouted the careful wife. “Hurt him not; he is mad. Take his sword away. Bind him--and Dromio too.” Dromio of Syracuse did not wish to be bound, and he said to his master, “Run, master! Into that abbey, quick, or we shall be robbed!” They accordingly retreated into the abbey. Adriana, Luciana, and a crowd remained outside, and the Abbess came out, and said, “People, why do you gather here?” “To fetch my poor distracted husband,” replied Adriana. Angelo and the merchant remarked that they had not known that he was mad. Adriana then told the Abbess rather too much about her wifely worries, for the Abbess received the idea that Adriana was a shrew, and that if her husband was distracted he had better not return to her for the present. Adriana determined, therefore, to complain to Duke Solinus, and, lo and behold! a minute afterwards the great man appeared with officers and two others. The others were AEgeon and the headsman. The thousand marks had not been found, and AEgeon's fate seemed sealed. Ere the Duke could pass the abbey Adriana knelt before him, and told a woeful tale of a mad husband rushing about stealing jewelry and drawing his sword, adding that the Abbess refused to allow her to lead him home. The Duke bade the Abbess be summoned, and no sooner had he given the order than a servant from The Phoenix ran to Adriana with the tale that his master had singed off the doctor's beard. “Nonsense!” said Adriana, “he's in the abbey.” “As sure as I live I speak the truth,” said the servant. Antipholus of Syracuse had not come out of the abbey, before his brother of Ephesus prostrated himself in front of the Duke, exclaiming, “Justice, most gracious Duke, against that woman.” He pointed to Adriana. “She has treated another man like her husband in my own house.” Even while he was speaking AEgeon said, “Unless I am delirious, I see my son Antipholus.” No one noticed him, and Antipholus of Ephesus went on to say how the doctor, whom he called “a threadbare juggler,” had been one of a gang who tied him to his slave Dromio, and thrust them into a vault whence he had escaped by gnawing through his bonds.