him, After you first forswore it on the mart; And thereupon I drew my sword on you, And then you fled into this abbey here, From whence, I think, you are come by miracle. ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never came within these abbey walls, Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me; I never saw the chain, so help me Heaven! And this is false you burden 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? DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Porpentine. COURTEZAN. He did; and from my finger snatch'd that ring. ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. 'Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her. DUKE. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here? COURTEZAN. 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.