Ant. S. A trusty villain, Sir, that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, Lightens my humour with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then, go to my ina, and dine with me? Mer. I am invited, Sir, to certain merchants, Of whom I hope to make much benefit; I crave your pardon. Soon, at five o'clock, Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart, + And afterwards consort you till bed-time; My present business calls me from you now. Ant. S. Farewell till then: I will go lose myself, And wauder up and down, to view the city. Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. [Exit MERCHANT. Ant. S. He that commends me to mine own stomach; You have no stomach, having broke your fast; But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray, Are penitent for your default to-day. Ant. S. Stop in your wind, Sir; tell me this, I pray; [you? Where have you left the money that I gave Dro. E. Oh!-sixpence, that I had o’Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ;The saddler had it, Sir, I kept it not. Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: I from my mistress come to you in post; For she will score your fault upon my pate. clock, dinner. Ant. S. What, wilt thou float me thas unto my face, Being forbid; There, take you that, sir knave. Dro. E. What mean you, Sir ? för God's sake, hold your hands; Nay, an you will not, Sir, I'll take my heels. The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. ACT II. SCENE I.—A public Place. Enter ADRIANA, and LUCIANA. 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: more? Luc. Because their business still lies edi o'door. Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes # ill. Luc. Oh know he is the bridle of your will. Adr. There's none but asses, will be brided So. Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. There's nothing, situate under heaven's eye, Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed. Adr Bat, were you wedded, you would ben some sway. Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. Adr. How if your husband start some other where ? 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, thon villain? Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's stark mad: When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner time, quoth 1; My gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; My gold,| quoth he: Will you come home? quoth 1; 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 mis tress: Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. dispense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; That others touch, yet often touching will Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jea-S lousy ! SCENE II.-The same. [Exeunt. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. How now, Sir? is your merry humour alter'd? Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence. Your sauciness will jest upon my love, sport, But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams. Dro. S. Scouce, 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; then, wherefore, and For urging it the second time to me. Dro. S. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting. Ant. S. Well, Sir, learn to jest in good time; There's a time for all things. Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. Ant. S. By what rule, Sir? thee. How comes it now, my husband, oh! how comes it, That thou art then estranged from thyself? Am better than thy dear self's better part. As take from me thyself, and not me too. do it. I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; Dro. S. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: plain bald pate of father Time himself. Ant. S. Let's hear 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. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost : Yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity. Ant. S. For what reason? Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too. Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. 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. 1. c. Intrude on them when you please. f Study my countenance. * A sconce was a fortification. For, if we two be one, and thou play false, Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed; I live dis-stain'd, thou undishonoured. Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame ? I know you not: In Ephesus I am but two hours old, As strange unto your town, as to your talk ; Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, Want wit in all one word to understand. Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang't with you: To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: What, was I married to her in my dream? I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Dro. S. Oh! 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, aud so am I. Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. 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 :- And shrive + you of a thousand idle pranks : 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 [Exeunt. late. ACT III. SCENE 1.-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR. Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must ex- My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: And that to-morrow you will bring it home. • Unfertile. + Absolve. 1 A necklace strung with pearls. 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 sparing guest; But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; Better cheer may you 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, coxcomb, idiot, patch!! Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch: 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? bo, 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 Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce. Luce. Faith no; he comes too late : And so tell your master. 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 bast 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. Why at this time the doors are made you. against Be rul'd by me; depart in patience, Dro. E. So, come, help; well struck; there For ever hous'd, where it once gets possession. was blow for blow. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Ant. E. You'll cry 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 welcome; 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. 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. 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 theel 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; oh! let in not be so; Herein you war against your reputation, Once this,-Your long experience of her wis dom, Her sober virtue, years, and modesty Plead on her part some cause to you unknown; And doubt not, Sir, but she will well excuse • Have part. ↑ A proverbial phrase. Ant E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine; Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, me. Ang. I'll meet you at that place, some hour hence. Ant. E. Do so; This jest shall cost me some expense. SCENE II.—The same. Enter LUCIANA, and ANTIPHOLUS of Syra cuse. Luc. And may it be that you have quite forgot A husband's office? shall, Antipbolus, 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 barbinger : 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 |