You know since Pentecost the sum is due, And since I have not much importuned you; Nor now I had not, but that I am bound To Persia, and want guilders for my voyage: Therefore make present satisfaction, Or I’ll attach you by this officer.
You know the money’s due since Pentecost, And I haven’t bothered you much until now; And now I wouldn’t, except that I have to go To Persia, and I need money for my trip: So please pay me now, Or I’ll have this officer arrest you.
Second Merchant · Act 4, Scene 1
A second merchant demands payment from Angelo, who in turn demands it from Antipholus of Ephesus, who claims he never received the chain that supposedly justifies the debt. The chain of obligation matters because it shows how financial and legal systems can trap an innocent man; a debt travels from merchant to goldsmith to man, and no one can prove he owes anything, yet he faces arrest. The play argues that justice is only as good as the agreement that binds people, and when facts are in dispute, the powerless lose.
By this, I think, the dial points at five: Anon, I’m sure, the duke himself in person Comes this way to the melancholy vale, The place of death and sorry execution, Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
By now, I think, the clock is pointing to five: Soon, I’m sure, the duke will come himself This way, to the sad and gloomy place, The place of death and cruel punishment, Behind the abbey’s walls here.
Second Merchant · Act 5, Scene 1
The second merchant observes that it is nearly five o'clock, the hour of execution, and the Duke is on his way to witness the beheading of Egeon. The line matters because it marks the play's pivot toward tragedy; despite all the comedy of confusion, a real death is pending, and the errors that have been amusing are about to become fatal. Time is running out, and the play's loose ends must suddenly resolve or someone dies.
See where they come: we will behold his death.
Look, here they come: we’ll watch his execution.
Second Merchant · Act 5, Scene 1
Angelo spots the Duke approaching with Egeon and prepares to watch the merchant's execution, speaking of it as a spectacle to behold. The line registers because it shows how casual the play has become about death; what began as Egeon's private terror has become public entertainment. The moment reminds us that under all the mistaken identities and comic confusion, there is a man waiting to die, and no amount of laughter changes that.