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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.
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,
Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.
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?
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 know's me.
Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye
Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell ?
Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate !
SCENE I. Before the same. Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, Dromio of Ephesus,
ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.
Antipholus of Ephesus.
My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours.
To see the making of her carkanet,
But here's a villain, that would face me down
were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass.
Marry so it doth appear By the wrongs that I suffer, and the blows that I bear. I should kick, being kick’d; and, being at that pass, You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. Ant. E. You are sad, Signior Balthazar. 'Pray
God, our cheer May answer my good will, and your good welcome
here. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your wel
come dear. Ant. E. Oh, 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 a 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,
Jin'! Dro. S. [within.] Mome, malt-horse, capon, cox
comb, idiot, patch !
Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the batch.
When one is one too many ? Go, get thee from the door.
stays in the street.
catch cold on's feet. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho!
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
and my name ;
thy name for an ass.
are those at the gate ? 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 callid Luce, Luce, thou hast
answer'd him well.
I hope ?
Dro. S. *
And you said, no. Dro. E. So; come, help! well struck'; there was
blow for blow. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Luce.
Can you tell for whose sake? Dro. E. Master, knock the door hard. Luce.
Let him knock till it ake. 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, l'll break ope Dro. S. Break any breaking here, and I'll break
your knave's pate.