you

Ant. S. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.

Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands:

Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Erit.
Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other,
The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.
They say, this town is full of cozenage;
As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye,
Dark-working sorcerers, that change the mind,
Soul-killing witches, that deform the body;
Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many such like liberties of sin :
If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave;
I greatly fear, my money is not safe.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-A public Place.

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

[Exit.

Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him,
And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner.
Good sister, let us dine, and never fret:
A man is master of his liberty:

Time is their master; and, when they see time,
They'll go, or come: If so, be patient, sister.

Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more?
Luc. Because their business still lies out o' door.
Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
Luc. O, know, he is the bridle of your will.
Adr. There's none, but asses, will be bridled so.
Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe.
There's nothing, situate under heaven's eye,
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky:
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subject, and at their controls:
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world, and wild wat'ry seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.

Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. [sway. Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear. Adr. Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she They can be meek, that have no other cause. [pause; A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity, We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry; But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain: So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience would'st relieve me :

But, if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.

Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try :Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness. [his mind? Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear; Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.

Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?

Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could

scarce understand them.

Adr. But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to please his wife. Dro.E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain? [stark mad:

Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner time, quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Will you come home? quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; My gold, quoth he: My mistress, sir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress; I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress! Luc. Quoth who?

Dro. E. Quoth my master :

I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress;
So that my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders;
For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake send some other messenger.

[beating:

Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other Between you I shall have a holy head. Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy master home. Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus ? You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I last in this service, you must case me in leather.

[Exit.

Luc. Fye, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it; Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait? That's not my fault, he's master of my state: What ruins are in me, that can be found By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground of my defeatures: My decayed fair A sunny look of his would soon repair: But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale.

Luc. Self-harming jealousy!-fye, bear it hence. Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; Or else, what lets it but he would be here? Sister, you know, he promised me a chain ;Would that alone alone he would detain, So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! I see the jewel, best enamelled,

Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, yet often touching will
Wear gold; and so no man that hath a name,
But falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.
Ant. S. The gold I gave to Dromio, is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave
Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out.
By computation, and mine host's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, since at first
I sent him from the mart: See, here he comes.
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.
How now, sir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?
Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a word?
Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour since.
Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence,
Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt;
And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner;
For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas'd.

Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein : What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beating him.

But

Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest is Upon what bargain do you give it me? [earnest : Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes Do use you for my fool, and chat with you, Your sauciness will jest upon my love, And make a common of my serious hours. When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport, in crannies, when he hides his beams. creep If you will jest with me, know my aspect, And fashion your demeanour to my looks, Or I will beat this method in your sconce. Dro. S. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. But, I pray sir, why am I beaten? Ant. S. Dost thou not know?

Dro. S. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.
Ant. S. Shall I tell you why?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.

Ant. S. Why, first, for flouting me; and then, For urging it a second time to me. [wherefore, Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season?

When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither rhyme Well, sir, I thank you. [nor reason?

Ant. S. Thank me, sir? for what? Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.

Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, to give you no.
thing for something. But, say, sir, is it dinner-time?
Dro. S. No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have.
Ant. S. In good time, sir, what's that?
Dro. S. Basting.

Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.
Dro S. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it.

Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature.

Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man.

Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement !

Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.

Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.

Dro. S. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

he loseth it in a kind of jollity. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: Yet

Ant. S. For what reason?

Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too.
Ant. S. Nay, not sound, I pray you.
Dro. S. Sure ones then.

Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.
Dro. S. Certain ones then.

Ant. S. Name them.

Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge.

Ant. S. You would all this time have proved, there is no time for all things.

Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature.

Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover.

Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the world's end, will have bald followers.

Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion:

But soft! who wafts us yonder?

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.
Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange, and frown;
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects,

I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.
The time was once, when thou unurg'd wouldst vow
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste,
Unless I spake, look'd, touch'd, or carv'd to thee.
How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it,
That thou art then estranged from thyself?
Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
That undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me;
For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulph,
And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,
As take from me thyself, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Should'st thou but hear I were licentious?

And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate?
Would'st thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot brow,
And from my false hand cut the wedding ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?

I know thou canst; and therefore, see, thou do it.
I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;
My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:
For, if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.

Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed;
I live dis-stain'd, thou, undishonour'd.

Dro. S. By me?

Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from him,That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, Denied my house for his, me for his wife. [man? Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoWhat is the course and drift of your compact?

Dro. S. I, sir? I never saw her till this time. Ant. S. Villain, thou liest; for even her very words Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.

Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life. Ant. S. How can she thus then call us by our names, Unless it be by inspiration?

Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, Abetting him to thwart me in my mood? Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine : Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine; Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate: If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, Usurping ivy, briar, or idle moss; Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion. [theme: Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her What, was I married to her in my dream? Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this? What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy.

Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Dro. S. O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. This is the fairy land ;-O, spite of spites!We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprites; If we obey them not, this will ensue. They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. Luc. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! Dro. S. I am transformed, master, am not I? Ant. S. I think, thou art, in mind, and so am I. Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind, and in my shape. Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. Dro. S. No, I am an ape. Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, '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:~
Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day,
And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks
Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,
Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter.--
Come, sister :-Dromio, play the porter well.

Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Sleeping or waking? mad, or well advis'd?
Known unto these, and to myself disguis'd!
I'll say as they say, and perséver so,
And in this mist at all adventures go.

Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate?
Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.
Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.

Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: [all. Say, that I linger'd with you at your shop, To see the making of her carkanet, And that to-morrow you will bring it home. But here's a villain, that would face me down He met me on the mart; and that I beat him, And charg'd him with a thousand marks in 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 : [shew: That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,

affords.

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 [nothing but words. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feast. [guest.

Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; Better cheer you may have, but not with better heart, But, soft; my door is lock'd; Go bid them let us in. Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Jen'! Dro. S. [Within.] Mome, malt-horse, capon, cox

comb, idiot, patch! Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for [door. When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the Dro. E. What patch is made our porter? My

such store,

master stays in the street.

Dro. S. Let him walk from whence he came, les

he catch cold on's feet.