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Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd
to thee.
[comes it,
How comes it now, my husband, O! how
That thou art thus estranged from thyself?
Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
That, undividable, incorporate,

Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me!
For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,

As take from me thyself, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious,
And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate!
Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow,
And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?
I know thou canst ; and therefore, see thou do
I am possess'd with an adulterate-blot; [it.
My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:
For if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep, then, fair league and truce with thy true
I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured.
Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame?
know you not:

[bed;

In Ephesus I am but two hours old,
As strange unto your town as to your talk ;
Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,
Want wit in all one word to understand.

Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd with you!

When were you wont to use my sister thus ?
She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
Ant. S. By Dromio? Dro. S. By me?
Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return
from him,-

That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows,
Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this
gentlewoman?

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 Unless it be by inspiration? [our names,

Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.

Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine : Thou art an elm, my husband,-I a vine, Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,

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Dro. S. Iam transformed, master, am not I? Ant. S. I think thou art, in mind, and so am I. [my shape. Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind and in Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. Dro. S. No, I am an ape. Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an [for grass. Dro. S. 'Tis true; she rides me, and I long 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, But I should know her, as well as she knows [fool, Adr. Come, come; no longer will I be a To put the finger in the eye and weep, Whilst man and master laugh my woes to

ass.

me.

scorn.

Come, sir, to dinner.-Dromio, keep the gate.
Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day,
And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.
Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,
Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.
Come, sister.-Dromio, play the porter well.

Ant. S. [Aside.] Am I in earth, in heaven,

or in hell?

Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advis'd?
Known unto these, and to myself disguis'd!
I'll say as they say, and perséver so,
And in this mist at all adventures go. [gate?
Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the
Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break
your pate.

[late. Luc. Come, come, Antipholus; we dine too [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The Same.

Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, Dromio of
Ephesus, Angelo, and Balthazar.
Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must
excuse us all ;

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 carkanet,
And that to-morrow you will bring it home.
But here's a villain, that would face me down
He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,
And charg'd him with a thousand marks in
gold,

And that I did deny my wife and house.-
Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean
by this?
[what I know;
Dro. E. Say what you will, sir, but I know
That you beat me at the mart, I have your
hand to show:
[gave were ink,
If the skin were parchment, and the blows you
Your own handwriting would tell you what I
Ant. E. I think thou art an ass. [think.
Dro. E.
Marry, so it doth appear
By the wrongs I suffer, and the blows I bear.
I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at
that pass,
[of an ass.
You would keep from my heels, and beware
Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar :
pray God, our cheer

May answer my good-will, and your good welcome here. [your welcome dear. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, [dainty dish.

A table full of welcome makes scarce one Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; and 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 guest.

But though my cates be mean, take them in [better heart.

good part; Better cheer may you have, but not with But soft! my door is lock'd.-Go bid them let us in. [lian, Ginn!

Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, GilDro. 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, [the door. When one is one too many? Go, get thee from 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. [the door. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho! op'n 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. What art thou that keep'st me out from the house I owe?

Dro. S. [Within.] The porter for this time, sir; and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name; [blame. The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle If thou hadst 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, who are those at the gate?
Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce.
Luce.

Faith, no; he comes too late ;

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Luce. [Within.] I thought to have ask'd you. Dro. S. [Within.] And you said no. well struck!

Dro. E. So, come, help!

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 ache. 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. [Within.] By my troth your town is troubled with unruly boys. Ant. E. Are you there, wife? you might

have come before. [from the door. Adr. Your wife, sir knave! go, get you 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: [bought and sold. It would make a man mad as a buck to be so Ant. E. Go fetch me something: I'll break

ope the gate. [break your knave's pate. Dro. S. Break any breaking here, and I'll 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. [out upon thee, hind! Dro. S. It seems thou want'st breaking:

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.
[a crow.
Ant. E. Well, I'll break in :-go borrow me
Dro. E. A crow without feather,-master,
mean you so?
[out a feather:
For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl with-
If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow
together..
[iron crow.
Ant. E. Go, get thee gone; fetch me an
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. [wisdom,
Once this, Your long experience of her
Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,

[you.

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
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,
vulgar comment will be made of it;
And that supposed by the common rout,
Against your yet ungallèd 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.
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.
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-spring 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;
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, that you love us; Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve ; [us.

We in your motion turn, and you may move Then, gentle brother, get you in again; Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife : 'Tis holy sport to be a little vain, [strife. When the sweet breath of flattery conquers Ant. S. Sweet mistress,-what your name is else, I know not,

Nor by what wonder you do hit of 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

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To drown me in thy sister 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 them, 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 rea-
son so?
[not know.
Ant. S. Not mad, but mated; how, I do
Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your
[being by.

eye.

Ant. S. For gazing on your beams, fair sun, Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight.

Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.

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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.

Enter Dromio of Syracuse, hastily. 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. [and besides myself. Dro. S. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, 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 hunts 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. [riage? Ant. S. How dost thou mean,-a fat marDro. 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.

Ant. S. What's her name?

Dro. S. Nell, sir; but her name and threequarters, 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? [it out by the bogs. Dro. S. Marry, sir, in her buttocks: I found 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; armed and reverted, making war against her heir. 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? [hot in her breath. Dro. S. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it 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. [lands?

Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the NetherDro. S. O, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; call'd 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: And, I think if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, She had transform'd me to a curtail-dog, and made me turn i' the wheel. [road : Ant. S. Go hie thee presently, post to the 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 knows us, and we know none, 'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be gone. Dro. S. As from a 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

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*

Ant. S. What is your will that I shall do How much your chain weighs to the utmost with this? [made it for you.

not.

carat,

[fashion,

Ang. What please yourself, sir: I have The fineness of the gold, and chargeful Ant. S. Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it Which doth amount to three odd ducats more [you have. Than I stand debted to this gentleman: Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times I pray you, see him presently discharg'd, Go home with it, and please your wife withal; For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it. And soon at supper-time I'll visit you, Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present And then receive my money for the chain. money; Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money

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SCENE I.-The Same.

Enter Merchant, Angelo, and an Officer. Mer. You know since Pentecost the sum is due,

And since I have not much importun'd you;
Nor now I had not, but that I am bound
To Persia, and want gilders for my voyage:
Therefore, make present satisfaction,
Or I'll attach you by this officer.

[you,

Ang. Even just the sum that I do owe to Is growing to me by Antipholus; And, in the instant that I met with you, He had of me a chain: at five o'clock I shall receive the money for the same. Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house, I will discharge my bond, and thank you too. Off. That labour may you save: see where he comes.

Enter Antipholus of Ephesus and Dromio of Ephesus.

Ant. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou

And buy a rope's end: that I will bestow
Among my wife and her confederates,

For locking me out of my doors by day.

But soft, I see the goldsmith. Get thee gone Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me. Dro. E. I buy a thousand pound a year; I buy a rope.

[Exit.

Ant. É. A man is well holp up that trusts

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;

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? [not time enough. Ant. E. No; bear 't with you, lest I come Ang. Well, sir, I will. Have you the chain about you? [have; Ant. E. An' if I have not, sir, I hope you Or else you may return without your money. Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me

the chain :

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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; I pray you, sir, despatch. [chainAng. You hear how he importunes me: the Ant. E. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your money. [even now.

Ang. Come, come, you know I gave it you Either send the chain, or send by me some token. [of breath. Ant. E. Fie! now you run this humour out Come, where's the chain! I pray you, let me see it. [liance.

Mer. My business cannot brook this dalGood sir, say whether you'll answer me, or no : If not, I'll leave him to the officer.

Ant. E. I answer you? what should I answer you? [chain. Ang. The money that you owe me for the Ant. E. I owe you none till I receive the

chain. Ang. You know I gave it you half an hour Ant. E. You gave me none you wrong me

[since.

much to say so.

Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying Consider how it stands upon my credit. [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.

[had!

Ant. E. Consent to pay thee that I never 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,

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