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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 everywhere;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;

Stigmaticala 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 do curse.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.
DRO. S. Here, go : the desk, the purse; sweet, now, make haste.
Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath ?

By running fast.
ADR. Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?
DRO. S. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.

A devil in an everlasting garment hath him ;
One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel ;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough ;
A wolf, nay, worse,-a fellow all in buffo;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well 19;

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 is in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that can I tell :

Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk? ADR. Go fetch it, sister.—This I wonder at,

[Exit Luo. That bhe, 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: 't is time that I were gone.

It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.
Stigmatical—branded in form—with a mark upon him.

That, according to the second folio. The original has thus. Band-a law bond. Dromio quibbles on the more common use of band. Each means something which binds.

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 bankrout, 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,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?

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;
Conceit, my comfort, and my injury.


SCENE III.-The same.

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,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And, therewithal, took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for :

What, have you got [rid of b] 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, 't is a plain case: he that went like a base-viol, in a case

He. The original has I. Malone made the change.

Theobald inserted rid of; and the words appear necessary-for the “fellow all in buff” was not with the Antipholus of Syracuse.

of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men, and gives them, suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace

than a morris-pike. Ant. S. What! thou mean'st an officer ? Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he, 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 an 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.

Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here.
DRO. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.
Ant. S. Why, Dromio ?
Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
ANT. S. Avoid then, fiend! what 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,

A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
A nut, a cherry-stone; but she, more covetous,

A morris-pike was the pike of the Moors. The weapon is mentioned by Holinshed.

Would have a chain.
Master, be wise ; an' if you give it her,

The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.
Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain ;

I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
DRO. S. Fly pride, says the peacock : Mistress, that you know.

[Exeunt Ant. S. and Dro. S. 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 promis'd 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 entrance.
Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,
On purpose shut the doors against his way.
My way is now to hie home to his house,
And tell his wife, that, being lunatic,
He rush'd into my house, and took perforce
My ring away: This course I fittest choose ;
For forty ducats is too much to lose.


SCENE IV.-The same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and an Officer.

ANT. E. Fear me not, man, I will not break away:

I ll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money
To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to-day ;
And will not lightly trust the messenger :
That I should be attach'd in Ephesus 4,
I tell you, 't will sound harshly in her ears.

Enter DROM10 of Ephesus, with a rope's end. Here comes my man; I think he brings the money.

How now, sir ? have you that I sent you for? • This is ordinarily printed

" And will not lightly trust the messenger,

That I should be attach'd in Ephesus.” As we print the passage, his wife will not lightly, easily, trust the messenger with the money; for it will sound harshly, strangely, in her ears that her husband should be attached in Ephesus.

Dro. E. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all 12.
ANT. E. But where's the money?
DRO. E. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope.
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 you.

[Beating him.
OFF. Good sir, be patient.
DRO. E. Nay, 't is 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

served him from the hour of my 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 husband 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!
Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his extasy!
Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.
Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear.
Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man,

To yield possession to my holy prayers,
And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight;

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 !

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