Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 't is to an ass. Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her 'T is so, I am an ass; else it could never be, theme: What, was I married to her in my dream? Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. But I should know her as well as she knows me. Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate! [Exeunt No, I am an ape. ACT III. SCENE I.-The same. ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR. Dro. S. [Within.] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch! b Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch : Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for such store, Dro. E. What patch is made our porter? My Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us all. When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: Say, that I linger'd with you at your shop, To see the making of her carcanet," And that to-morrow you will bring it home. But here's a villain, that would face me down That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. Marry, so it doth appear our cheer May answer my good will, and your good welcome 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 sparing But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; • Carcanet-a chain, or necklace. 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 Luce. [Within.] What a coil is there! Dromio, who Faith, no; he comes too late; Luce. Have at you with another: that 's,-When? can you tell? Dro. S. If thy name be called Luce, Luce, thou Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, a Mome is the French word for a buffoon;-momer is to go in disguise; hence mummery. But mome here means a blocklead, Jen'!-something foolish. Patch-a pretender, a deceitful fellow, one who's patched up. • Owe-own. Dro. E. So, come, help; well struck; there was blow for blow. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Can you tell for whose sake? Let him knock till it ake. Ant. B. 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 witha 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 want'st 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 feather; master, mean you so? For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather: Once this,b-Your long experience of her wisdom, Once this once for all. Against your yet ungalled estimation, Ant. E. You have prevail'd. I will depart in quiet, And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. I know a wench of excellent discourse; Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle ;There will we dine: this woman that I mean, My wife (but, I protest, without desert) Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal; To her will we to dinner. Get you home, And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 't is made: Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine; 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, Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs a rot? Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous? 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; Be secret-false: What need she be acquainted? Being compact of credit, that you love us: Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife: T is 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 of mine,) The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, • Fain-hy!t of tongue. O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with tny note, Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, sight. Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night. Ant. S. That's my sister. No; It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be. [Exit Luo. Enter, from the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Syracuse. Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio? where runn'st thou so fast? Dro. S. Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I your man? am I myself? Ant. S. What 's her name? Dro. S. Nell, sir ;-but her name and three quarters, that 's 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. 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 of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch: Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou And, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, art 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, 't is in grain; Noah's flood could not do it. a Love is here used as the queen of love. To mate-to amate-is to make senseless, to stupify as in a dream. Mætan (Anglo-Saxon) is to dream. When anything offensive was spoken of, this form of apology wes used. | and my heart of steel, She had transform'd me to a curtail-dog, and made me turn i' the wheel. [Exit. Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the road; Ang. Master Antipholus? Ang. I know it well, sir. Lo, here is the chain; Ant. S. What is your will that I shall do with this? Ant. S. Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not. Go home with it, and please your wife withal; Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, SCENE 1.-The same. Ang. You are a merry man, sir; fare you well. [Exit ACT IV. Exit Mer. The nour steals on; I pray you, sir, despatch. money. Ang. Come, come, you know I gave it you even now; Ant. E. Fie! now you run this humour out of breath: Ant. E. I answer you! What should I answer you? to say so. Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it: 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! Off. That labour may you save; see where he comes. 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, Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourself? Ang. Well, sir, I will: Have you the chain about Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have; Ant. E. Good Lord, you use this dalliance to excuse Growing to me-accruing to me. Off. I do arrest you, sir; you hear the suit. Ang. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Master, there's a bark of Epidamnum, The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitæ. Ant. E. How now! a madman? Why, thou peevish What ship of Epidamnum stays for me? Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. Ant. E. I will debate this matter at more leisure, a Peevish-silly. Sheep and ship were pronounced alik». There is a purse of ducats; let her send it; [Exeunt Merchant, ANGELO, Officer, and ANT. E. SCENE II.-The same. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. Adr. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Mightst thou perceive austerely in his eye That he did plead in earnest, yea, or no? Look'd he or red, or pale; or sad or merrily? What observation mad'st thou in this case, Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face? [Exit. And what said he? Luc. First, he denied you had in him no 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 forsworn he were. Luc. Then pleaded I for you. Adr. 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. 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 will. He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, Ill-fac'd, worse-bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Luc. Who would be jealous then of such a one? No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone. Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I say, And yet would herein others' eyes were worse: Far from her nest the lapwing cries, away; My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. I know not at wnose suit he is arrested, well; But is in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that can I tell: Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk? Adr. Go fetch it, sister.-This I wonder at. [Exit Luc. That he, unknown to me, should be in debt :Tell me, was he arrested on a band? a 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: 't is time that I were gone. It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. 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. Adr. As if Time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason! Dro. S. Time is a very bankrout, and owes more than he's worth, to season. Nay, he's a thief too: Have you not heard men say, Ant. S. There's not a man I meet but doth salute As if I were their well-acquainted friend; Dro. S. Here, go: the desk, the purse; sweet, now, And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. make haste. Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath? By running fast. A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands Dro. S. I do not know the matter; he is 'rested on the case. Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whose suit. a The modern construction would be-"He denied you had in him a right." b Stigmatical-branded in form; with a mark upon him. The occupation of the bailiff being somewhat dangerous in times when men were ready to resist the execution of the law with the sword and rapier, he was clothed with the ox-skin, the buff, which in warfare subsequently took the place of the heavier coat of mail. The hound that runs counter runs upon a false course; but the hound that draws dry-foot well follows the game by the scent of the foot. Hell was the name of a place of confinement under the Exchequer Chamber for the debtors of the Crown. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: What, have you got [rid of] the picture of Old Adam new apparelled? Ant. S. What gold is this? What Adam dost 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, 't is a plain case: he that went like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives 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.b 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? a Band-bond. A morris-pike was the pike of the Moors. |