That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows - This is the fairy land; - O, spite of spites '- Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentle- If we obey them not, this will ensue, woman? What 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, names, Unless it be by inspiration? Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, Usurping ivy, briar, or idle moss; Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion. They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot 'Tis So, I am an ass; else it could never be, Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, Whilst man, and master, laugh my woes to scorn.— Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter. - Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her Come, sister : 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 sinner. 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 late. [Exeunt. SCENE I. The same. ACT III. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: And that to-morrow you will bring it home. Dro. E. Say what you will, sir, but I know what That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass. 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? ho, open the door. Dro. S. Right, sir, I'll tell you when, an 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 again, when you may. Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe? Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name; The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. 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! Dromio, And so tell our master. ! Dro. E. O Lord, I must laugh; Have at you with a proverb. Shall I set in my staff? Dro. S. If thy name be called 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. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. 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. Do. 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, sır; 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 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 Bal. Have patience, sir, O, let it not be so ; Herein you war against your reputation, And draw within the compass of suspect The unviolated honour of your wife. Once this, Your long experience of her wisdom, Her sober virtue, years, and modesty, Plead on her part some cause to you unknown; And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse Why at this time the doors are made against you. Be rul'd by me; depart in patience, And let us to the Tiger all to dinner : And, about evening, come yourself alone, To know the reason of this strange restraint. If by strong hand you offer to break in, Now in the stirring passage of the day, A vulgar comment will be made on it; And that supposed by the common rout Against your yet ungalled estimation, That may with foul intrusion enter in, And dwell upon your grave when you are dead: For slander lives upon succession ; For ever hous'd, where it once gets possession. Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet, And, in despight of mirth, mean to be merry. Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; 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 us. Then, gentle brother, get you in again; Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife: 'Tis 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 on mine,) Less, in your knowledge, and your grace, you show not, Than our earth's wonder; more than earth divine. Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthy 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 yield. But if that I am I, then well I know, Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Far more, far more, to you do I decline. Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie; And, in that glorious supposition, think He gains by death, that hath such means to die : 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; how, I do not know. Lur. It is a fault that springeth from your eye. No; ; It is thyself, mine own self's better part; O, soft, sir, hold you still; [Exit Luc. Enter from the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Syracuse. 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. : 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. Ant. S. Where Scotland? If every one knows us, and we know none, Dro. S. I found it by the barrenness; hard, in She, that doth call me husband, even my soul the palm of the hand. Ant. S. Where France? Doth for a wife abhor: but her fair sister, Dro. S. In her forehead; armed and reverted, Of such enchanting presence and discourse, making war against her hair. Ant. S. Where England? 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 ? Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the road; Hath almost made me traitor to myself: 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? Ang. What please yourself, sir; I have made it for you. 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, [Exit. Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot tell : [Exit. SCENE I. The same. ACT IV. Enter a Merchant, ANGELO, and an Officer. Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to you, And, in the instant that I met with you, a rope! And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and DROMIO of I pray you, see him presently discharg'd, Ephesus. For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it. Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present Besides I have some business in the town: ther send the chain, or send me by some token. Ant. E. Fye! now you run this humour out of breath: Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it. Ant. E. I answer you! What should I answer you? Ang. The money, that you owe me for the chain. Ant. E. I owe you none, till I receive the chain. Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour since. Ant. E. You gave me none; you wrong me much to say so. Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it : Consider, how it stands upon my credit. Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. 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! Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st. Ang. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer; Off. 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 As all the metal in your shop will answer. Ang. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, To your notorious shame, I doubt it not. Enter DROMIO of Syracus Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Lp...a.anuïn, That stays but till her owner comes aboard, And then, sir, bears away: our fraughtage, sir, I have convey'd aboard; and I have bought The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitæ. The ship is in her trim; the merry wind Blows fair from land: they stay for no ight at all, What ship of Epidamnum stays for me? Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope; And told thee to what purpose, and what end. Dro. S. You sent me, sir, for a rope's-end as soon: 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. To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight: Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry, There is a purse of ducats; let her send it; Tell her, I am arrested in the street, And that shall bail me: hie thee, slave; be gone. On, officer, to prison till it come. [Exeunt Merchant, ANGELO, Officer, and! ANT. E. Dro. S. To Adriana! that is where we din'd, Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband : She is too big, I hope, for me to compass. Thither I must, although against my will, For servants must their masters' minds fulfil. [Eril Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. Adr. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Might'st 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? 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. were. 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, Ill-fac'd, worse-bodied, shapeless every where ; 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 de curse. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Here, go: the desk, the purse; sweet now, make haste. Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath? Dro. S. |