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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 gar

ments 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.1 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 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

crow. Dro. E. A crow without feather; master, mean

you so ?

1 Over-reached by foul and secret practices. A proverbial expression,

For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a

feather; If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow to

gether. Ant. E. Go, get thee gone : fetch me an iron

crow. Bal. Have patience, sir : 0, let it not be so; Herein you war against your reputation, And draw within the compass of suspect The unviolated honor of your wife. Once 1 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 2 against you. Be ruled 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 of 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 housed where it gets possession.

i Once for all.

I Made fast, barred.


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, 'tis made : Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine ; 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 11.

The same.
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 1 rot?

Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous ?

1 Young plants or shoots of love.

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 blind

ness : Let not my sister read it in your eye;

Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty ;

Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger :
Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted ;

Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint ;
Be secret-false. What need she be acquainted ?

What simple thief brags of his own attaint ? 'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed,

And let her read it in thy looks at board : Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed ;

Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. Alas, poor women! make us but believe,

Being compact of credit,1 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,

· Being made altogether of credulity.

? Light of tongue.

Nor by what wonder you do hit on mine) Less, in your knowlege 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 labor 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 'u

yield. But if that I am I, then well I know,

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. 0, 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 ; 1 how, I do not



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