Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion What, was I married to her in my dream? Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for Dro. S. O, for my beads! I cross me for a This is the fairy land;-O, spite of spites!- swer'st not? Dro S. Nay, master, both in mind, and in Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. Luc. If thou art chang'd to augbt, 'tis to an ass. Dro. S. 'Tis true; she rides me, and I long for grass. 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, But I should know her as well as she knows me. Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep, Whilst man, and master, laugh my woes to Scorn. Come, Sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gate :- Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate? Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too ACT III. SCENE 1-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must ex cuse us all; My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: And that to-morrow you will bring it home. gold; And that I did deny my wife and house :Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? Dro. E. Say what you will, Sir, but I know what I know: That you beat me at the mart, I have your If the skin were parchment, and the blows you Dro. E. Marry, so it doth appear By the wrongs I suffer, and the blows I bear. I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass, You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: 'Pray God, our cheer May answer my good will, and your good wel come here. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, Sir, and your welcome dear. Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. Bal Good meat, Sir, is common; that every churl affords. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feast. Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more But though my cates* be mean, take them in Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Dro. S. [Within.] Mome,t malt-horse, capon, 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. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the door. Dro. S. Right, Sir, I'll tell you when, and 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 Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out name is Dromio. mine office and my name: [blame. The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle If thou had'st been Dromio to day in my place, Thou would'st have chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass. Luce. [Within.] What a coil is there? Dro. mio, who are those at the gate? Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce. Luce. Faith no; he comes too late; And so tell your master. my staff? * Dishes of meat. 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. Be rul'd by me; depart in patience, Dro. E. So, come, help; well struck; there Against your yet ungalled estimation, was blow for blow. Ant E. Thou baggage, let me in. Ant. E. You'll ery for this, minion, if I beat the door down. Luce. What needs all that, 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 we!come; we would fain have either. 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. ro. 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 back, to be so bought and sold.t Ant. B. 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. That may with foul intrusion enter in, in quiet, And, in despight of mirth, mean to be merry. haste: 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 kindess: 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 ; [ed? Be secret-false: What need she been acquaintWhat 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; Il deeds are doubled with an evil word. As, poor women! make us not 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; [us. Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife : 'Tis holy sport, to be a little vain,§ [strife. When the sweet breath of flattery conquers By this time. tLove-springs are young plants or shoots of love. I. e. Being made altogether of credulity. Vain, is light of tongue. 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, [divine. Than our earth's wonder; more than earth 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 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; And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie; 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 it how, I do heart; It is thyself, mine own self's better part ; There will I love, and with thee lead my life; Luc. O soft, Sir, hold you still: 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? Dro. S. A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may not speak of, without he say, sir-reverence: 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 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. Ant S. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Dro. S. Marry, Sir, in her buttock's: I found it out by the bogs. Ant. S. Where Scotland? Dro. S. 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 hair. 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 ? 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 carrack st to be ballast to her nose. Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the Nether lands? 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 assur'd to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark on my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left and, I think, if my breast had not been made arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch: of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transformed me to a curtail-dog,and made me turn i'the wheel. Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the | Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and DROMIO of road; And if the wind blow any way from shore, Dro. S. As from bear to a man would run for So fly I from her that would be my wife. [Exit. Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here; And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.I Enter ANGELO. Ang. Master Antipholus? Ant. S. Ay, that's my name. Ephesus. Offi. That labour may you save; see where he comes. Ant. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow Ant. E. A man is well holp up, that trusts 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, [carrat; How much your chain weighs to the utmost The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion; Which doth amount to three old ducats more That I stand debted to this gentleman; Ang. I know it well, Sir: Lo, here is the I pray you, see him presently discharg'd, chain; SCENE -The same. Enter a MERCHANT, ANGELO and an OFFICER. Mer. You know, since pentecost the sum is And since I have not much importun'd you; Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to A coil For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it. money: my wife Besides, I have some business in the town: Ant. E. No; bear it with you lest I come 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. the chain; Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, Ang. You know I gave it you half an hour What observation mad'st thou in this case, since. Ant. E. You gave me none; you wrong me much to say so. Ang. You wrong me more in denying it; Ang. This touches me in reputation :- 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. Offi. 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 num, right. Adr. He meant, he did me none; the more my spite. Luc. Then swore he, that he was a stranger here. Adr. And true he swore, though yet farsworn he were. Luc. Then pleaded I for you. Adr. And what said he? Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd. of me. Adr. With what persuasion did he tempt thy love? Luc. With words, that in an honest suit might 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 will. He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,t That stays but till her owner comes aboard, I have convey'd aboard; and I have bought Ant. E. How now! a madan! Why thou peevish sheep, What ship of Epidamnum stays for me? Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage.t Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for You sent me to the bay, Sir, for a bark. Ant. E. I will debate this matter at more leisure, And teach your ears to listen with more heed. Dro. S. To Adriana! that is where he din'd, Where Dowsabel did claim me for her hus band: She is too big, I hope, for me to compass. Thither I must, although against my will, No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone. [one? Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I say, And yet would herein others' eyes were Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;§ My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. worse: One, whose hard heart is button'd up with A devil in an everlasting garment|| hath him A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough: [steel; A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff; A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one than countermands [lands; The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dryfoot well; One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls to hell.¶ Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? 'rested on the case. Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whose suit. Dro. S. I know not at whose suit he is ar rested, well; For servants must their master's minds fulfil. But he's in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, |