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, [divine. Than our earth's wonder; more than earth 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 But if that I am I, then well I know, [yield. Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Nor to her bed no homage do I owe;

Far more, far more, to you do I decline. O, train me not, sweet mermaid,* with thy note,

To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears; Sing, siren, for thyself, and I will dote: 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.

Ant. S. Thy sister's sister.

Luc. That's my sister.

Ant. S. No;

It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer

heart; [aim, My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim. Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be. Ant. S. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I aim thee:

Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life;
Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife:
Give me thy hand.

Luc. O soft, Sir, hold you still;
I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.

[Exit Luc.

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 grire 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.

Ant. S. What's her name?

Dro. S. Nell, Sir;-but her name and three quarters, that is, 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.

Ant. S. Where Scotland?

Dro. S. I found it by the barrenness: hard, in the palm of the hand.

Ant. S. Where France?

Dro. S. In her forehead; arm'd and reverted, making war against her hair. Ant. S. Where England?

Dro. S. I look'd 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?

Dre. S. Faith, I saw it not; Lut 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 carrackst to be ballast to 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 assur'd; to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark on my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch: and, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transformed me to a curtail-dog, and made me turu i'the wheel.

road;

And if the wind blow any way from shore,
I will not harbour in this town to-night.
If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
Where I will walk, till thou return to me.
If every one know us, and we know none,
'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be

gone.

Dro. S. As from bear a man would run for life,

So fly I from her that would be my wife.

[Exit. Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here;

And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.
She, that doth call me husband, even my soul
Doth for a wife abhor: but her fair sister,
Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,
Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
Hath almost made me traitor to myself:
But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.

Enter ANGELO.

Ang. Master Antipholus?
Ant. S. Ay, that's my name.

Ang. I know it well, Sir: Lo, here is the chain;

I thought to have ta'en you at the Porcupine: The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long. Ant. S. What is your will, that I should 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.

Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have:

Go home with it, and please your wife withal;
And soon at supper-time I'll visit you,
And then receive my money for the chain.

Ant. S. I pray you, Sir, receive the money

now

For fear you ne'er see chain, nor money, more.
Ang. You are a merry man, Sir; fare you
well.
[Exit.
Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot
tell;

But this I think, there's no man is so vain,
That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.'
I see, a man here needs not live by shifts,
When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay;
If any ship put out, then straight away. [Exit.

Ephesus.

Besides, I have some business in the town: Good signior take the stranger to my house, And with you take the chain, and bid my wife Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof; Perchance, I will be there as soon as you. Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourself?

Ant. E. No; bear it with you, lest I come not time enough.

Ang. Well, Sir, I will: Have you the chain about you?

Ant. E. An if I have not, Sir, I hope you have;

Or else you may return without your money. Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, Sir, give me

the chain;

Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, And I, to blame, have held him here too long. Ant. E. Good lord, you use this dalliance, to

excuse

Your breach of promise to the Porcupine:
I should have chid you for not bringing it,
But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl.
Mer. The hour steals on; pray you, Sir,
despatch.

Ang. You hear, how he impórtunes me; the

chain

Ant. E. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch

your money.

even now;

Ang. Come, come, you know, I gave it you [token. Either send the chain, or send me by some Ant. E. Fie! now you run this humour out

of breath: [see it. Come, where's the chain? I pray you let me Mer. My business carnot brook this dal

liance;

Good Sir, say, whe'r you'll answer me, or no ; If not, I'll leave him to the officer.

Ant. E. I answer you! What should I an

swer you?

Ang.The money, that you owe me for the chain. Ant. E. I owe you none, till I receive the chain

I shall

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. Offi. 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! Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st.

Ang. Here is thy fee; arrest him officer; I would not spare my brother in this case, If he should scorn me so apparently.

Offi. 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 Syracuse.

Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidam

num,

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 [all, Blows fair from land: they stay for nought at But for their owner, master, and yourself.

Ant. E. How now! a madman! Why thou peevisht sheep,

What ship of Epidamnum stays for me? Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage.t

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
On, officer, to prison till it come. [gone.
[Exeunt MERCHANT, ANGELO, OFFICER,
and ANT. E.

Dro. S. To Adriana! that is where he 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 master's minds fulfil.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

[Exit.

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? [ly? Look'd he or red, or pale; or sad, or merriFreight, cargo. + Silly. + Carriage.

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. And what said he?

Luc. That love I begg'd for you, be 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,t
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
No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone. [one?
Adr. Ah! but I think him better than
And yet would herein others' eyes were

worse:

say,

Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;§ My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

A devil in an everlasting garment|| hath him One, whose hard heart is button'd up with A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough; [steel; A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff; A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one than countermands [lands;

The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dryfoot well;

One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls to hell.¶

Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? Dro. S. I do not know the matter? he is 'rested on the case.

Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whose suit.

Dro. S. I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well;

But he's in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that can I tell:

Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in the desk?

Adr. Go fetch it, sister.-This I wonder at, [Exit LUCIANA. That he, unknown to me, should be in debt: Tell me, was he arrested on a band?* 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: 'tis 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 bankrupt, and owes more than he's worth to season.

Nay, he's a thief too: Have you not heard men say,

That time comes stealing on by night and day? If he be in debt, and theft, and a sergeant in the way, [day? Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a Euter LUCIANA.

Adr. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it straight;

And bring thy master home immediately.Come, sister; I am press'd down with conceit;t

Conceit, my comfort, and my injury.

SCENE III.-The same.

[Exeunt.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. Ant. S. There's not a man I meet, but doth

salute me

As if I were their well-acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy:
Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop, [me,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for
And, therewithal, took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.

Enter DROMIO of Syracusɩ.

Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: What, have you got 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, 'tis 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 pitv on decayed men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace, than a morrispike.

Ant. S. What! thou mean'st an officer? Dro. S. Ay, Sir, the sergeant of the band; e, 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?

Dro. S. Why, Sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy, Delay: Here are the angels that you sent for, to deliver you.

Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I; And here we wander in illusions: Some blessed power deliver us from hence! Enter a COURTEZAN.

Cour. Well met, well met, master Antipholus,

I see, Sir, you have found the goldsmith now;
Is that the chain you promis'd me to-day?
Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee tempt
me not!

Dro. S. Master, is this mistress Satan?
Ant. S. It is the devil.

Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench; and thereof comes, that the wenches say, God damn me, that's as much as to say, God make me a light wench. It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is au effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn; Come not near her.

Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, Sir. [here. Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner Dro. S. Master, if you do expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.

Ant. S. Why, Dromio?

that must eat with the devil.

Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon,

Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! why tell'st thou me of supping?

Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress :
I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone.
Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at

dinner,

Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd; And I'll be gone, Sir, and not trouble you.

Dro. S. Some devils ask but the paring of

one's nail,

let us go.

Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: Mistress, that you know.

[Exeunt ANT. and DRO. Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad, Else would he never so demean himself: A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, And for the same he promised me a chain! Both one, and other, he denies me now. The reason that I gather he is mad,

Besides this present instance of his rage,) Is a mad tale, he told to-day at dinner, Of his own doors being shut against his en

Ant. E. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope?

Dro. E. I'll serve you, Sir, five hundred at the rate.

Ant. E. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?

Dro. E. To a rope's end, Sir; and to that end am I return'd.

Ant. E. And to that end, Sir, I will welcome [Beating him.

you.

Of. Good Sir, be patient.

Dro. E. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.

Off. Good now, hold thy tongue.

Dro. E. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands.

Ant. E. Thou whoreson, senseless villain! Dro. E. I would I were senseless, Sir, that I might not feel your blows.

Ant. E. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass.

Dro. E. I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have serv'd him from the hour of nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service, but blows: when I am cold, he heats me with beating: when I am warm, he cools me with beating: I am waked with it, when I sleep; raised with it, when I sit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcomed home with it, when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door.

Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, and the COURTEZAN, with PINCH, and others.

Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.

Dro. E. Mistress, respice finem, respect your end; or rather the prophecy, like the parrot, Beware the rope's end.

Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk? [Beats him.
Cour. How say you now? is not your hus-

band mad?

Adr. His incivility confirms no less.Good doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer; Establish him in his true sense again, And I will please you what you will demand. Luc. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks!

Correct them all.

Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his extacy! Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.

Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your

ear.

Pinch. 1 charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man,

And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight;
To yield possession to my holy prayers,
I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven.
Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace, I am
not mad.

Adr. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul!

Ant. E. You minion you, are these your cus tomers?

Did this companion with a saffron face Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut, Revel and feast it at my house to day,

And I denied to enter in my house?

Adr. O, husband, God doth know, you din'd

Ant. E. Were not my doors lock'd up, and I shut out?

Dro. E. Perdy, your doors were lock'd, and you shut out.

Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there?

Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you there.

Ant. E. Did not her kitchen maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?

Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd you.

Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence?

Dro. E. In verity you did;-my bones bear witness,

That since have felt the vigour of his rage.
Adr. Is't good to sooth him in these con-

traries?