Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for such store,

When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door.

Dro. E. What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street.

Dro. S. Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet.

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. S. Right, sir, I'll tell you when, an

you'll tell me wherefore.

Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner; I have not din'd to-day.

Dro. S. Nor to-day here you must not; come again, when you may.

Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe?

Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio.

Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name;

[blame. The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, Thou would'st have chang'd thy face for a name,

or thy name for an ass.

Dro. E. O Lord, I must laugh:Have at you with a proverb.-Shall I set in my staff?

Luce. Have at you with another: that's,When? can you tell?

Dro. S. If thy name be call'd Luce, Luce, thou hast answer'd him well.

Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope?

Luce. I thought to have ask'd you.

Dro. S. And you said, no.

bought and sold.

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

Dro. S. 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. S. It seems, thou wantest breaking: out upon thee, hind!

Dro. E. Here's too much, out upon thee! I pray thee, let me in.

Dro. S. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fish have no fin

Ant. E. Well, I'll break in; go borrow me a

crow.

Dro. E. A crow without a feather; master,

mean you so?

For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather;

If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.

Ant. E. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron

crow.

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

was blow for blow.

Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in.
Luce. Can you tell for whose sake?
Dro. E. Master, knock the door hard.
Luce. Let him knock till it ache.

Ant. E. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down.

Luce. What needs all this, and a pair of stocks in the town?

Adr. [within.] Who is that at the door, that keeps all this noise ?

Dro. S. By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys.

Ant. E. Are you there, wife? you might have come before.

Adr. Your wife, sir knave! go, get you from the door.

Dro. E. If you went in pain, master, this knave would go sore.

Ang. Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome; we would fain have either.

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

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 hous'd, where it once gets possession.

Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in

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.
Ang. I'll meet you at that place, some hour
hence.

Ant. E. Do so: this jest shall cost me some
expense.
[exeunt.

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;

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 fault, 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.

Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.

Luc. Why call you me love? call my sister so.
Ant. S. Thy sister's sister.
Luc. That's my sister.

Ant. S. No;

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 us. Then, gentle brother, get you in again; Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife: 'Tis holy sport to be a little vain, When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. Ant. S. Sweet mistress (what your name is else, I know not,

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

Than our earth's wonder; more than earth divine.

'Teach

me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthly gross conceit, 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 yield. But if that I am I, then well I know,

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;

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 run'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.

Ant. S. What woman's man? and how besides thyself?

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?s

Dro. S. A very reverent 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 is she 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 week longer than the whole world.

Ant. S. 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, tnat 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.

Ant. S. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Dro. S. Marry, sir, in her buttocks; I found it out by the bogs.

Ant. S. Where Scotland?

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 fo

life,

So fly I from her, that would be my wife. [exit. Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit

here;

Ant. S. Where France?

Hath almost made me traitor to myself: But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,

Ant. S. Where England?

Dro. S. I looked 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?

Dro. S. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it, hot in her breath.

Ant. S. Where America, the Indies?

Dro. S. O, sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellished 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. S. O, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; called me Dromio; swore, I was assured to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark on my shoulder, the mole on 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 transformed me to a curtail-dog, and made me turn i'the wheel. [road; Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the

SCENE I. THE SAME.

Enter a Merchant, Angelo, and an Officer. Mer. You know, since Pentecost the sum is due, And since, I have not much impórtun'd you. Nor now I had not, but that I am bound To Persia, and want gilders for my voyage: Therefore make present satisfaction, 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.
[comes.

Of That labour may you save: see where he

Enter Angelo. Ang. Master Antipholus? Ant. S. Ay, that's my name.

Ang. I know it well, sir: Lo, here is the chain: I thought to have ta'en you at the Porcupine The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long. Ant. S. What is your will, that I shall do with this? [it for you.

Ang. What please yourself, sir; I have made
Ant. S. Made it for me, sir? I bespoke it not
Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times
you have.

Go home with it, and please your wife withal;
And soon at supper-time I'll visit you,
And then receive my money for the chain.

Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, For fear you ne'er see chain, nor money, more. Ang. You are a merry man, sir; fare you well

[exit.

Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot tell;

But this I think, there's no man is so vain,
That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.
I see a man here needs not live by shifts,
When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay;
If any ship put out, then straight away.

IV.

[exit.

Ant. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house,
go thou

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, 1 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
I promised your presence, and the chain; [you:
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
[note,

not.

Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the How much your chain weighs to the utmost carrat;

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?

Ant. E. No; bear it with you, lest I come not time enough.

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. [chainAng. You hear, how he importunes 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.

[you? Ant. E. I answer you! What should I answer Ang. The money that you owe me for the chain. Ant. E. I owe you none, till I receive the chain. Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour since.

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.

Off. 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 Epherus, 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, I 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 waftage. Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a

And teach your ears to listen with more heed.
To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight:
Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk
That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry,
There is a purse of ducats; let her send it
Tell her, I am arrested in the street,
And that shall bail me: hie thee, slave; be gone.
On, officer, to prison, till it come.

Texeunt Mer. Ang. Off. and Ant. E.
Dro. S. To Adriana! that is where we din'd,
Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband:
She is too big, hope, for me to compass.
Thither I must, although against my will,
For servants must their masters' minds fulfil.
[exit

SCENE 11. THE SAME.

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 red, or pale; or sad, or merrily? What observation mad'st thou in this case, Of his beart's meteors tilting in his face? Luc. First he denied you had him in 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 he were.

Luc. Then pleaded I for you.
Adr. And what said he?

[me.

Luc. That love, I begg'd for you, he begg'd of Adr. With what persuasion did he tempt thy

love?

[more.

Luc. With words, that in an honest suit might First, he did praise my beauty; then, my speech. Adr. Didst 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, Ill-fac'd, worse-bodied, shapeless every where Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in miud.

[will

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 thy 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

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?

Ant. S. What gold is this? what Adam dust thou mean?

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 killed 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

foot well; [to hell. One that, before the judgement carries poor souls Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? Dro. S. I do not know the matter: he is 'rested on the case. [suit. Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whose Dro. S. I know not at whose suit his arrested, well; can I tell But he's in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in the desk?

Adr. Go fetch it, sister.-This I wonder at, [exit Luciana. That he, unknown to me, should be in debt :Tell me, was he arrested on a band?

Dro. S. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing: A chain, a chain; do you not hear it ring? Adr. What, the chain?

Dro. S. No, no, the bell: 'tis time, that I were gone. [strikes one. It was two ere I left him, and now the clock Adr. The hours come back! that did I never hear. Dro. S. O yes, if any hour meet a sergeant, a'

turns back for very fear. [thou reason! Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly dost Dro. S. Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he's worth, to season. Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? If he be in debt, and theft, and a sergeant in the way, Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day? Re-enter Luciana.

Adr. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it straight;

And bring thy master home immediately.— Come, sister; I am press'd down with conceit; Conceit, my comfort, and my injury.

SCENE III. THE SAME.

Enter Antipholus of Syracuse.

[exeunt.

them a fob, and 'rests them: he, sir, that takes 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?

Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark, Expedition, put forth to-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? [not! Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me 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 din

ner here.

Dro. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat,

salute me

As if I were their well-acquainted friend;

And every one doth call me by my name.

Ant. S. Why, Dromio?

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