_Serv._ O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself! My master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor, 170 Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire; And ever, as it blazed, they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair: My master preaches patience to him, and the while His man with scissors nicks him like a fool; 175 And sure, unless you send some present help, Between them they will kill the conjurer. _Adr._ Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here; And that is false thou dost report to us. _Serv._ Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true; 180 I have not breathed almost since I did see it. He cries for you, and vows, if he can take you, To scorch your face and to disfigure you. [_Cry within._ Hark, hark! I hear him, mistress: fly, be gone! _Duke._ Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds! 185 _Adr._ Ay me, it is my husband! Witness you, That he is borne about invisible: Even now we housed him in the abbey here; And now he’s there, past thought of human reason. _Enter _ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus_ and _DROMIO of Ephesus_._ _Ant. E._ Justice, most gracious Duke, O, grant me justice! 190 Even for the service that long since I did thee, When I bestrid thee in the wars, and took Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice. _Æge._ Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, 195 I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio. _Ant. E._ Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there! She whom thou gavest to me to be my wife, That hath abused and dishonour’d me Even in the strength and height of injury: 200 Beyond imagination is the wrong That she this day hath shameless thrown on me. _Duke._ Discover how, and thou shalt find me just. _Ant. E._ This day, great Duke, she shut the doors upon me, While she with harlots feasted in my house. 205 _Duke._ A grievous fault! Say, woman, didst thou so? _Adr._ No, my good lord: myself, he and my sister To-day did dine together. So befal my soul As this is false he burdens me withal! _Luc._ Ne’er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, 210 But she tells to your Highness simple truth! _Ang._ O perjured woman! They are both forsworn: In this the madman justly chargeth them.