refused to take any nourishment, Demetrius arrived, ignorant of all
that had passed in his absence. He no sooner learnt the truth, than
he flew to the prison. It was now evening, and he was refused
admittance, the gaoler having long since bolted the door and
retired to rest, leaving his slaves to keep guard. Morning came,
and after many entreaties he was allowed to enter. Suffering had
altered Antiphilus beyond recognition, and for long Demetrius
sought him in vain: like men who seek their slain relatives on the
day after a battle, when death has already changed them, he went
from prisoner to prisoner, examining each in turn; and had he not
called on Antiphilus by name, it would have been long before he
could have recognized him, so great was the change that misery had
wrought. Antiphilus heard the voice, and uttered a cry; then, as
his friend approached, he brushed the dry matted hair from his
face, and revealed his identity. At the unexpected sight of one
another, the two friends instantly fell down in a swoon. But
presently Demetrius recovered, and raised Antiphilus from the
ground: he obtained from him an exact account of all that had
happened, and bade him be of good cheer; then, tearing his cloak in
two, he threw one half over himself, and gave the other to his
friend, first ripping off the squalid, threadbare rags in which he
was clothed. From that hour, Demetrius was unfailing in his
attendance. From early morning till noon, he hired himself out as a
porter to the merchants in the harbour, and thus made a
considerable wage. Returning to the prison when his work was over,
he would give a part of his earnings to the gaoler, thus securing
his obsequious goodwill, and the rest sufficed him amply for
supplying his friend's needs. For the remainder of the day, he
would stay by Antiphilus, administering consolation to him; and at
nightfall made himself a litter of leaves near the prison door, and