Bal. In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.

Dro. E. They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.

Ant. E. There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.

Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.

Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold:

It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold.

Ant. E. Go, fetch me something, I'll break

ope the gate.

Dro.8. Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate.

Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, sir; and words are but wind;

Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.

Dro. 8. It seems, thou wantest breaking; Out upon thee, hind!

Dro. E. Here is too much, out upon thee! pray thee, let me in.

I
Dro. S. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and
fish have no fin.
[crow.
Ant. E. Well, I'll break in; Go borrow me a
Dro. E. A crow without feather; master, mean
you so?
[a feather:
For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without
If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow
together.
[crow.
Ant. E. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron
Bal. Have patience, sir: O, let it not be so;
Herein you war against your reputation,
And draw within the compass of suspect
The unviolated honour of your wife.
Once this; your long experience of her wisdom,
Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,
Plead on her part some cause to you unknown;
And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse
Why at this time the doors are made against you.
Be rul'd by me; depart in patience,
And let us to the Tiger all to dinner:
And, about evening, come yourself alone,
To know the reason of this strange restraint.
If by strong hand you offer to break in,
Now in the stirring passage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made on it;
And that supposed by the common rout
Against your yet ungalled estimation,
That may with foul intrusion enter in,
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead:
For slander lives upon succession;
For ever housed, where it once gets possession.
Ant. E. You have prevail'd: I will depart in
quiet,

And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.
I know a wench of excellent discourse,-
Pretty and witty; wild, and, yet too, gentle;-
There will we dine: this woman that I mean,
My wife (but, I protest, without desert),
Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal;
To her will we to dinner.-Get you home,
And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made:
Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine;
For there's the house; that chain will I bestow
(Be it for nothing but to spite my wife)
Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste:
Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain

me.

SCENE II. The same.

Enter LUCIANA, and ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.
Luc. And may it be that you have quite forgot
A husband's office? shall, Antipholus, hate,
Even in the spring of love, thy love springs rot?
Shall love, in building, grow so ruinate?
If you did wed my sister for her wealth,
Then, for her wealth's sake, use her with more
kindness:

Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your false love with some show of blindness:

Let not my sister read it in your eye;

Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger: Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted;

Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint: Be secret-false; What need she be acquainted? What simple thief brags of his own attaint? 'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed, And let her read it in thy looks at board: Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed; Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. Alas, poor women! make us but believe, Being compact of credit, that you love us; Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve; We in your motion turn, and you may move Then, gentle brother, get you in again; Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife: 'Tis holy sport to be a little vain, [strife. When the sweet breath of flattery conquers Ant. S. Sweet mistress (what your name is else, I know not,

[us.

Nor by what wonder you do hit on mine), Less, in your knowledge, and your grace, you show not, [divine.

Than our earth's wonder; more than earth Teach me, dear creature, how to think and Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, [speak; Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,

The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Against my soul's pure truth why labour you, To make it wander in an unknown field? Are you a god? would you create me new? Transform me then, and to your power I'll But if that I am I, then well I know, [yield. Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Nor to her bed no homage do I owe;

Far more, far more, to you do I decline. O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears; Sing, siren, for thyself, and I will dote:

Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie;

And, in that glorious supposition, think He gains by death, that hath such means to die:Let love, being light, be drowned if she sink! Luc. What, are you mad, that you do reason so? Ant. S. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.

Luc. It is a faulf that springeth from your eye. Ant. S. For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.

Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight. [on night. Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look Luc. Why call you me love? call my sister so. Ant. S. Thy sister's sister.

That's my sister.

No;

My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim,
My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.
Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be.
Ant. S. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I aim thee:
Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life;
Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife:
Give me thy hand.
Luc.
O, soft, sir, hold you still;
I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.

[Exit Luc. Enter, from the House of ANTIPHOLUS, of Ephesus, DROMIO, of Syracuse.

Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio? where runn'st thou so fast?

Dro. S. Do you know me sir? am I Dromio? am I your man? am I myself?

Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself.

Dro. S. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and besides myself. [thyself? Ant. S. What woman's man? and how besides Dro. S. Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman: one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.

Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee?

Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.

Ant. S. What is she?

Dro. S. A very reverend body; ay, such a one as a man may not speak of, without he say, sirreverence: I have but lean luck in the match, and yet she is a wondrous fat marriage.

Ant. S. How dost thou mean, a fat marriage? Dro. S. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen-wench, and all grease; and I know not what use to put her to, but to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a ween longer than the whole world.

Ant. 8. What complexion is she of? Dro. S. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like so clean kept: For why? she sweats, a man may go over shoes in the grime of it.

Ant. S. That's a fault that water will mend. Dro. S. No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood

could not do it.

Ant. S. What's her name?

Dro. S. Nell, sir;-but her name and three quarters, that is, an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip.

Ant. S. Then she bears some breadth? Dro. S. No longer from head to foot, than from hip to hip; she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out countries in her. [land? Ant. S. In what part of her body stands IreDro. 8. Marry, sir, in her buttocks; I found it out by the bogs.

Ant. S. Where Scotland?

Dro. 8. I found it by the barrenness; hard, in the palm of the hand.

Ant. S. Where France?

Dro. S. In her forehead; arm'd and reverted, making war against her heir.

Ant. S. Where England?

Dro. S. I look'd for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in them: but I guess, it stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

Ant. S. Where Spain? [in her breath. Dro. S. 'Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot Ant. S. Where America? the Indies?

Dro. S. O, sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellish'd with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole armadas of carracks to be ballast at her nose.

Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands? Dro. 8. O, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; call'd me Dromio; swore, I was assur'd to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch: and, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transform'd me to a curtail-dog, and made me turn i' the wheel.

Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the road; And if the wind blow any way from shore, I will not harbour in this town to-night. If any bark put forth, come to the mart, Where I will walk, till thou return to me. If every one knows us, and we know none, "Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be gone. Dro. S. As from a bear a man would run for life, So fly I from her that would be my wife. [Exit. Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit

Or I'll attach you by this officer.

Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to you, Is growing to me by Antipholus: And, in the instant that I met with you, He had of me a chain; at five o'clock, I shall receive the money for the same: Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house, I will discharge my bond, and thank you too.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and DROMIO of Ephesus from the Courtezan's.

comes.

Off. That labour may you save; see where he [go thou Ant. E, While I go to the goldsmith's house, And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow Among my wife and her confederates, For locking me out of my doors by day.But soft, I see the goldsmith:-get thee gone: Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me. Dro. E. I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy a rope! [Exit DROMIO. Ant. E. A man is well holp up, that trusts to you.

I promised your presence, and the chain;
But neither chain, nor goldsmith, came to me:
Belike, you thought our love would last too long,
If it were chain'd together; and therefore came

not.

Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the note, [carat; How much your chain weighs to the utmost The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion;

Which doth amount to three odd ducats more
Than I stand debted to this gentleman;
I pray you, see him presently discharg'd,
For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it.
Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present
money;

Besides, I have some business in the town:
Good signior, take the stranger to my house,
And with you take the chain, and bid my wife
Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof;
Perchance, I will be there as soon as you.
Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her
yourself?
[time enough.
Ant. E. No! bear it with you, lest I come not
Ang. Well, sir, I will: Have you the chain
about you?

Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have: Or else you may return without your money. Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain;

Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, And I, to blame, have held him here too long. Ant. E. Good lord, you use this dalliance, to

excuse

Your breach of promise to the Porcupine: I should have chid you for not bringing it. But like a shrew, you first begin to brawl. Mer. The hour steals on; I pray you, sir, despatch, [chain

Ang. You hear, how he importanes me; the Ant. E. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your money. [even now; Ang. Come, come, you know, I gave it you Either send the chain, or send by me some token. Ant. E. Fie! now you run this humour out of breath: [see it. Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me Mer. My business cannot brook this dalliance: Good sir, say, whe'r you'll answer me or no; If not, I'll leave him to the officer.

Ant. E. I answer you! What should I answer you? [chain.

Ang. The money, that you owe me for the

Ant. E. I owe you none, till I receive the chain. [since. Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour Ant. E. You gave me none; you wrong me much to say so.

Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it: Consider, how it stands upon my credit. Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. Off. I do; and charge you in the duke's name, to obey me.

Ang. This touches me in reputation: Either consent to pay this sum for me, Or I attach you by this officer.

Ant. E. Consent to pay thee that I never had! Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st.

Ang. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer; I would not spare my brother in this case, If he should scorn me so apparently.

I

Of. I do arrest you, sir: you hear the suit. Ant. E. I do obey thee, till I give thee bail:But, sirrah, you shall buy this sport as dear As all the metal in your shop will answer.

Ang. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, To your notorious shame, I doubt it not.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum, That stays but till her owner comes aboard, And then, sir, bears away: our fraughtage, sir, have convey'd aboard; and I have bought The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitæ. The ship is in her trim; the merry wind Blows fair from land: they stay for nought at all, But for their owner, master, and yourself. Ant. E. How now? a madman! Why thou peevish sheep,

What ship of Epidamnum stays for me?

Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire warfage. Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. Adr. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Might'st thou perceive austerely in his eye That he did plead in earnest, yea or no?

Look'd he or red, or pale; or sad, or merrily? What observation mad'st thou in this case, Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face?

Luc. First, he denied you had in him no right.
Adr. He meant, he did me none; the more
my spite.
[here.

Luc. Then swore he, that he was a stranger
Adr. And true he swore, though yet forsworn
Luc. Then pleaded I for you. [he were.
Adr.
And what said he?

move.

First, he did praise my beauty: then my speech.
Adr. Did'st speak him fair?
Luc.
Have patience, I beseech.
Adr. I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his
He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere. will.
Ill-fac'd, worse-bodied, shapeless every where;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
Luc. Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone.

Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I
say,
And yet would here in others' eyes were worse:
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;
My heart prays for him, though my tongue

do curse.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Here, go; the desk, the purse; sweet now, make haste.

Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath?
Dro. S.
By running fast.
Adr. Where is my master, Dromio? Is he well?
Dro. S. No, he's in tartar limbo, worse than
hell:

A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One, whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that

countermands

The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands; A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dryfoot well; [to hell. One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? Dro. S. I do not know the matter; he is

'rested on the case.

Conceit, my comfort, and my injury. [Exeunt
SCENE III. The same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.

Ant. S. There's not a man I meet, but doth
salute me

As if I were their well acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy:
Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And, therewithal, took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.
Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me
for: What, have you got the picture of old Adam
new apparell'd?
[thou mean?

Ant. S. What gold is this? what Adam dost Dro. S. Not that Adam, that kept the paradise, but that Adam, that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf's skin that was kill'd for the prodigal: he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. Ant. S. I understand thee not.

Dro. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the them a fob, and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives pity on decayed men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a morris-pike.

Ant. S. What? thou mean'st an officer?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his band: one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, God give you good rest.

Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone?

since, that the bark Expedition put forth toDro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour night? and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay; here are the angels that you sent for, to deliver you.

Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I;
And here we wander in illusions;
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
Enter a Courtezan.

Cour. Well met, well met, master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now;
Is that the chain, you promis'd me to-day?
Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee tempt

me not!

Dro. S. Master, is this mistress Satan?
Ant. S. It is the devil.

Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench; and thereof comes, that the wenches say, God damn me, that's as much as to say, God make me a light wench. It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn; Come not near her.

Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here.

Dro. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.

Ant. S. Why, Dromio?

Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoor, that must eat with the devil.

Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping?

Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress :
I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone.
Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at
dinner,

Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd;
And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Dro. S. Some devils ask but the paring of
one's nail,

A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,

A nut, a cherry-stone: but she, more covetous,
Would have a chain.

Master, be wise; and if you give it her,
The devil will shake her chain, and fright us

with it.

Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain; I hope, you do not mean to cheat me so. Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.

Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: Mistress,

that you know. [Exeunt ANT. and DRO. Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad, Else would he never so demean himself: A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, And for the same he promis'd me a chain! Both one, and other, he denies me now. The reason that I gather he is mad (Besides this present instance of his rage), Is a mad tale, he told to-day at dinner, Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits, On purpose shut the doors against his way. My way is now, to hie home to his house, And tell his wife, that, being lunatick, He rush'd into my house, and took perforce My ring away: This course I fittest choose; For forty ducats is too much to lose.

SCENE IV. The same.

[Exit.

Ant. E. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass.

Dro. E. I am as an ass indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have served him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service, but blows: when I am cold, he heats me with beating: when I am warm, he cools me with beating: I am waked with it, when I sleep: raised with it, when I sit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcomed home with it, when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door.

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, and the Courtezan, with PINCH, and others.

Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.

Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, Beware the rope's end.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk? [Beats him. Cour. How say you now? is not your husband Adr. His incivility confirms no less.- [mad. Good doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer; Establish him in his true sense again, And I will please you what you will demand. Luc. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks! Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his ecstasy! Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.

ear.

Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your [this man, Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within To yield possession to my holy prayers, And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight; I conjure thee by all the saints of heaven." Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace; I am

not mad.

[soul!

Adr. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed Ant. E. You minion, you, are these your customers?

Did this companion with a saffron face
Revel and feast it at my house to-day,
Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut,
And I denied to enter in my house?

Adr. O, husband, God doth know, you din'd at home,

Where'would, you had remain's until this time, Free from these slanders, and this open shame! Ant. E. Din'd at home! thou villain, what

say'st thou? [at home. Dro. E. Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine Ant. E. Were not my doors lock'd up, and I shut out? [you shut out. Dro. E. Perdy, your doors were lock'd, and Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there? [there.

Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you Ant. E. Did not her kitchen maid rail, taunt, and scorn me? [scorn'd you.

Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence? [witness, Dro. E. In verity, you did;-my bones bear That since have felt the vigour of his rage.

Adr. Is't good to sooth him in these contraries? Pinch. It is no shame; the fellow finds his vein, And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy. Ant. E. Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to

arrest me.

Adr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you, By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.