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| He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold :
As you love strokes, so jest with me again. Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: You know no Centaur ?' You receiv'd no gold ? Your meat doth burn, quoth Í; my gold, quoth he: Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? Will you come, quoth I? my gold, quoth he: My house was at the Phænix? Wast thou mad, Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain ? That thus so madly thou didst answer me? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; my gold, quoth he : Dro. S. What answer, sir ? when spake I such a My mistress, sir, quoth I; hang up thy mistress !
word? I know not thy mistress : out on thy mistress !
Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour Luc, Quoth who?
since. Dro. E. Quoth my master:
Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress. Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, I thank him, I bear home upon my shoulders ; And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner; For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.
For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas'a. Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein. Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? What means this jest?. I pray you, master, tell me. For God's sake, send some other messenger.
Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
teeth ? Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. beating.
[Beating him. Between you I shall have a holy head.
Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is Adr. Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. earnest :
Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, Upon what bargain do you give it me? That like a foot-ball you do spurn me thus ?
Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes You
spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither : Do use you for my fool, and chat with you, If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. Your sauciness will jest upon my love,
[Exit. And make a common of my serious hours. Lue. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face! When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, Adr. His company must do his minions grace, But
in crannies when he hides his beams. Whilst I at home starve for a merry look.
If you will jest with me, know my aspect, Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took
And fashion your demeanour to my looks, From my poor cheek? then, he hath wasted it: Or I will beat this method in
your sconce. Are my discourses dull ? barren my wit ?
Dro. S. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave If voluble and sharp discourse be marr’d,
battering, I had rather have it a head : an you use Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard.
these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and Do their gay vestments his affections bait?
insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my That's not my fault; he's master of my state. shoulders. But, I pray, sir, why am I beaten ? What ruins are in me, that can be found
Ant. S. Dost thou not know? By him not ruin'd ? then, is be the ground
Dro. S. Nothing, sir ; but that I am beaten. Of my defeatures. My decayed fair
Ant. S. Shall I tell you why? A sunny look of his would soon repair;
Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every Bat, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
why hath a wherefore, And feeds from home: poor I am but his stale. Ant. S. Why, first,-for Aouting me; and then,
Lue. Self-harming jealousy!—fie! beat it hence. wherefore,—for urging it the second time to me.
season, Or else, wbat lets it but he would be here?
When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither rhyme Sister, you know, he promis'd me a chain :
nor reason ?Would that alone, alone he would detain,
Well, sir, I thank you. So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
Ant. S. Thank me, sir? for what? I see, the jewel best enamelled
Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something, that you Will lose his beauty: yet though gold 'bides still, gave me for nothing. That others touch, and often touching will
Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, and give you Wear gold; and no man, that hath a name,
nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner time? Bat falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
Dro. S. No, sir: I think, the meat wants that I have. Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
Ant. S. In good time, sir; what's that? il weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Dro. S. Basting.
[Exeunt. Dro. S. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it. SCENE II.-- The Same.
Ant. S. Your reason ?
Dro. S. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase Enter AntiPHOLUS of Syracuse.
me another dry basting. Ant. S. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time : there's Sale at the Centaur, and the heedful slave
a time for all things. is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out.
Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were Ba computation, and mine host's report,
so choleric. leeld not speak with Dromio, since at first
Ant. S. By what rule, sir ? I ant him from the mart. See, here he comes. Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain Enter Dromio of Syracuse.
bald pate of father Time himself. Hem pow, sir! is your merry'humour alter'd ?
Ant. S. Let's hear it.
Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his My blood is mingled with the crime of lust : hair that grows bald by nature.
For, if we two be one, and thou play false, Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig, and recover Being strumpeted by thy contagion. the lost hair of another man.
Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed, Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. as it is, so plentiful an excrement?
Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not. Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on In Ephesus I am but two hours old, beasts ;
and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath As strange unto your town, as to your talk; given them in wit.
Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more Want wit in all one word to understand. hair than wit.
Luc. Fie, brother: how the world is chang’d with you! Dro. S. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to When were you wont to use my sister thus ? lose his hair.
She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain Ant. S. By Dromio ? dealers, without wit.
Dro. S. By me? Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from loseth it in a kind of jollity.
him,Ant. S. For what reason?
That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too.
Denied my house for his, me for his wife. Ant. S. Nay, not sound, I pray you.
Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentleDro. S. Sure ones then.
woman? Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.
What is the course and drift of your compact ? Dro. S. Certain ones then.
Dro. S. I, sir? I never saw her till this time. Ant. S. Name them.
Ant. S. Villain, thou liest ; for even her very words Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. in trimming; the other, that at dinner they should Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life. not drop in his porridge.
Ant. S. How can she thus then call us by our names, Ant. S. You would all this time have proved, there Unless it be by inspiration ? is no time for all things.
Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir ; namely, e'en no time To counterfeit thus grossly with
your slave, to recover hair lost by nature.
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood ! Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt, there is no time to recover.
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. Dro. S. Thus I mend it : Time himself is bald, and Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine; therefore, to the world's end, will have bald followers. Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion. Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, But soft! who wafts us yonder ?
Makes me with thy strength to communicate :
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion
Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion. The time was once, when thou unurg'd would'st vow Ant. S. To me she speaks; she means me for her That never words were music to thine ear,
theme ! That never object pleasing in thine eye,
What, was I married to her in my dream, That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this?
What error draws our eyes and ears amiss ?
Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
Dro. S. O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner.. That, undividable, incorporate,
This is the fairy land : 0, spite of spites! Am better than thy dear self's better part.
We talk with goblins, owls, and elves and sprites. Ah, do not tear away thyself from me;
If we obey them not, this will ensue, For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall
They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. A drop of water in the breaking gulph,
Luc. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not ? And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Dromio, thou Dromio, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot ! Without addition or diminishing,
Dro. S. I am transformed, master, am I not? As take from me thyself, and not me too.
Ant. S. I think thou art, in mind, and so am I. How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. Should'st thou but hear I were licentious,
Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. And that this body, consecrate to thee,
No, I am an ape. By ruffian lust should be contaminate !
Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an ass. Would'st thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
Dro. S. 'Tis true; she rides me,
and I long for grass. And hurl the name of husband in my face,
'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow,
But I should know her, as well as she knows me. And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring,
Adr. Come, come; no longer will I be a fool, And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?
To put the finger in my eye and weep, I know thou can'st; and therefore, see, thou do it. Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;
Come, sir, to dinner.-Dromio, keep the gate.
Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day,
Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Known unto these, and to myself disguis'd ?
Dro. $. Master, shall I be porter at the gate ?
when you may.
SCENE I. - The Same.
Dro. S. Right, sir : I'll tell you when, an you'll tell
me wherefore, Enter AntiPHOLUS of Ephesus, Drouio of Ephesus,
Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.
din'd to-day. Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us ; Dro. S. Nor to-day here you must not, come again My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours. Say, that I linger'd with you at your shop
Ant. E. What art thou that keep'st me out from To see the making of her carkanet,
the house I owe ? And that to-morrow you will bring it home;
Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir; and my name But here's a villain, that would face me down
is Dromio. He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,
Dro. E. O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office And charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold;
and my name : And that I did deny my wife and house.
The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. Thou drunkard, thou, what did'st thou mean by this? If thou had'st been Dromio to-day in my place, Dro. E. Say what you will, sir; but I know what I Thou would'st have chang'd thy face for a name, or know.
thy name for a face. That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to Luce. (Within.] What a coil is there, Dromio: who show:
are those at the gate ? If my skin were parchment, and the blows you gave Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce. were ink,
Faith no; he comes too late ; Your own hand-writing would tell you for certain And so tell your master. what I think.
O Lord! I must laugh :Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass.
Have at you with a proverb.-Shall I set in my Dro. E.
Marry, so it doth appear, staff? By the wrongs I suffer, and the blows I bear.
Luce. Have at you with another : that's,—when ? ; I should kick, being kick'd ; and being at that pass,
tell ? You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. Dro. S. If thy name be called Luce, Luce, thou hast Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar : pray God, answer'd him well. our cheer
Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion ? you'll let us in, May answer my good-will, and your good welcome here. I trow? Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your wel- Luce. I thought to have ask'd you. come dear.
And you said, no. Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar! either at flesh or fish, Dro. E. So; come, help! well struck; there was A table-full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. blow for blow. Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. affords.
Can you tell for whose sake ? Ant. E. And welcome more common, for that's Dro. E. Master, knock the door hard. nothing but words.
Let him knock till it ache. Bal, Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry Ant. E. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the feast.
door down. Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing Luce. What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in guest :
the town? But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; Adr. [Within.) Who is that at the door, that keeps Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. all this noise ? But soft! my door is lock’d. Go bid them let us in. Dro. S. By my troth, your town is troubled with Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, unruly boys. Gin !
[Calling. Ant. E. Are you there, wife ? you might have come Dro. S. [Within.] Mome, malt-horse, capon, cox
before. comb, idiot, patch !
Adr. Your wife, sir knave ? go, get you from the Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch. door. Dest thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for Dro. E. If you went in pain, master, this knave such store,
would go sore. When one is one too many ? Go, get thee from the door. Ang. Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome : we Dro. E. What patch is made our porter ?–My would fain have either. master stays in the street.
Bal. In debating which was best, we shall part with Dro. S. Let him walk from whence he came, lest he neither. catch cold on's feet.
Dro. E. They stand at the door, master : bid them Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho! open the door. welcome hither.
Ant. E. There is something in the wind, that we
SCENE II.- The Same. cannot get in. Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garments
Enter Luciana, and Antipholus of Syracuse. were thin.
Luc. And may it be that you have quite forgot Your cake here is warm within ; you stand here in the
A husband's office? Shall unkind debate cold:
Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot? It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought Shall love, in building, grow so ruinate? and sold.
If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Ant. E. Go, fetch me something: I'll break ope
the Then, for her wealth's sake use her with more kindgate. Dro. S. Break any breaking here, and I'll break Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth : your knave's pate.
false love with some show of blindness; Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, sir, Let not my sister read it in your eye; and words are but wind;
Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator ; Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not be- Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty ; hind.
Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger: Dro. S. It seems, thou want'st breaking. Out upon Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted ; thee, hind!
Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint: Dro. E. Here's too much out upon thee! I pray Be secret-false ; what need she be acquainted ? thee, let me in.
What simple thief brags of his own attaint? Dro. S. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fish 'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed, bave no fin.
And let her read it in thy looks at board : Ant. E. Well, I'll break in. Go, borrow me a Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed ;
Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. Dro. E. A crow without feather? master, mean you Alas, poor women! make us but believe,
Being compact of credit, that you love us ;
Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife.
When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. And draw within the compass of suspect
Ant. S. Sweet mistress, (what your name is else, I Th' un violated honour of your wife.
know not, Once this,-Your long experience of her wisdom, Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine,) Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,
Less in your knowledge, and your grace you show not, Plead on her part some cause to you unknown;
Than our earth's wonder ; more than earth divine. And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse
Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak : Why at this time the doors are made against you. Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, Be rul’d by me: depart in patience,
Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, And let us to the Tiger all to dinner;
The folded meaning of your words' deceit. And about evening come yourself alone
Against my soul's pure truth, why labour you To know the reason of this strange restraint.
To make it wander in an unknown field? If hy strong hand you offer to break in,
Are you a god ? would you create me new? Now in the stirring passage of the day,
Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield. A vulgar comment will be made of it;
But if that I am I, then well I know, And that supposed by the common route,
Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Against your yet ungalled estimation,
Nor to her bed no homage do I owe:
Far more, far more, to you do I incline.
To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears.
Sing, syren, for thyself, and I will dote : Ant. E. You have prevail'd: I will depart in quiet, Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.
And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie; I know a wench of excellent discourse,
And, in that glorious supposition, think Pretty and witty ; wild, and yet too, gentle ;
He gains by death, that hath such means to die : There will we dine. This woman that I mean,
Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink! My wife (but, I protest, without desert,)
Luc. What! are you mad, that you do reason so? Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal :
Ant. S. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know. To her will we to dinner.-Get you home,
Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eye. And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made: Ant. S. For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by. Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine ;
Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear For there's the house. That chain will I bestow
your sight. (Be it for nothing but to spite my wife)
Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on Upon mine hostess there. Good sir, make haste.
night. Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
Luc. Why call you me love ? call my sister so. I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. Ant. S. Thy sister's sister. Ang. I'll meet you at that place, some hour hence. Luc.
sister. Ant. E. Do so. This jest shall cost me some ex
[Exeunt. It is thyself, mine own self's better part;
Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart; Dro. S. I look'd for the chalky cliffs, but I could My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, find no whiteness in them : but I guess, it stood in My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim. her chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be.
and it. Ant. S. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee. Ant. $. Where Spain ? Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life :
Dro. S. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife.
breath. Give me thy hand.
Ant. S. Where America, the Indies ? Luc.
O, soft, sir ! hold you still : Dro. S. O! sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellished I'll fetch my sister, to get her good-will. [Exit. with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich Enter Dronio of Syracuse, running.
aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio! where run'st thou armadoes of carracks to be ballast at her nose. so fast?
Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands ? | Dro. S. Do you know me, sir ? am I Dromio? am I Dro. S. O! sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, your man? am I myself?
this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; call’d me Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou Dromio; swore, I was assured to her: told me what art thyself.
privy marks I had about me, as the mark of my Dro. S. I am an ass; I am a woman's man, and shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my besides myself.
left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch : and, Ant. S. What woman's man? and how besides thy- I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and self?
my heart of steel, she had transform'd me to a curtailDro. S. Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a dog, and made me turn i' the wheel. Foman: one that claims me, one that haunts me, one Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently post to the road, that will have me.
And if the wind blow any way from shore, Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee?
I will not harbour in this town to-night. Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to If any bark put forth, come to the mart, your horse ; and she would have me as a beast : not Where I will walk till thou return to me. that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, If every one knows us, and we know none, being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me. 'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and begone. Ant. S. What is she?
Dro. S. As from a bear a man would run for life, Dro. S. A very reverend body; ay, such a one as a So fly I from her that would be my wife. man may not speak of, without he say, sir-reverence. Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here, I have but lean luck in the match, and yet she is a And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence. Fondrous fat marriage.
She that doth call me husband, even my soul Ant. S. How dost thou mean a fat marriage ? Doth for a wife abhor; but her fair sister, Dro. S. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen-wench, and all Possess’d with such a gentle sovereign grace, grease; and I know not what use to put her to, but to Of such enchanting presence and discourse, make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. Hath almost made me traitor to myself: I Farrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn But, lest myself be guilty of self-wrong, a Polar winter: if she lives till doomsday, she'll burn I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song. a week longer than the whole world.
Enter ANGELO. Ant. S. What complexion is she of?
Ang. Master Antipholus ? Dro. S. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing Ant. S. Ay, that's my name. like so clean kept: for why? she sweats; a man may Ang. I know it well, sir. Lo! here is the chain. go over shoes in the grime of it.
I thought to have ta’en you at the Porcupine; Ant. S. That's a fault that water will mend.
The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long. Dro. S. No, sir; 'tis in grain : Noah's flood could Ant. S. What is your will that I shall do with this? not do it.
Ang. What please yourself, sir : I have made it for Ant. S. What's her name?
you. Dro. S. Nell, sir ; but her name is three quarters, Ant. S. Made it for me, sir ? I bespoke it not. that is, an ell; and three quarters will not measure Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have. her from hip to bip.
Go home with it, and please your wife withal; Aat. S. Then she bears some breadth ?
And soon at supper-time I'll visit you, Dro. S. No longer from head to foot, than from hip And then receive my money for the chain. to hip: she is spherical, like a globe ; I could find out Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, countries in her.
For fear you ne'er see chain, nor money, more. Aat. S. In what part of her body stands Ireland ? Ang. You are a merry man, sir. Fare well.
Dro. S. Marry, sir, in her buttocks : I found it out by the bogs.
Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot tell ; | Ant. S. Where Scotland ?
But this I think, there's no man is so vain, Dro. S. I found it by the barrenness, hard, in the That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain. palm of the hand.
I see, a man here needs not live by shifts, Ant. S. Where France ?
When in the streets he meets such golden gifts. Dro. S. In her forehead; arm'd and reverted, I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay : making war against her heir.
If any ship put out, then straight away. [Exit. Art. s. Where England ?