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?

Dro. S. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.

Ant. S. Where America, the Indies?

Dro. S. O! sir, upon her nose, all o'er embelJished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadoes of carracks to be ballast at 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; 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.

Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently post to the 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 knows us, and we know none, 'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and begone.

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 here, And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.

20

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 shall 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. [Erit.

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.

SCENE I.-The Same.

Enter a 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.

Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to you, 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.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and DROMIO of
Ephesus.

Off. That labour may you save: see where he

comes.

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

And buy a rope's end, that will I 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. E. A man is well holp up that trusts to you:
I promised your presence, and the chain,
But neither chain, nor goldsmith, came to me.
Belike, you thought our love would last too long,
If it were chain'd together, and therefore came not.
Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the note
How much your chain weighs to the utmost caract,
The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion,
Which doth amount to three odd ducats more
Than I stand debted to this gentleman:

I pray you, see him presently discharg'd,
For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it.
Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present

money;

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?

Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it.
Mer. My business cannot brook this dalliance.
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 answer you?
Ang. The money that you owe me for the chain.
Ant. E. I owe you none, till I receive the chain.
Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour since.
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.
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.

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.

Off. 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 Epidamnum, That stays but till her owner comes aboard, And then, sir, she 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
Blows fair from land; they stay for nought at all,
But for their owner, master, and yourself.

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

What ship of Epidamnum stays for me?

Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. 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 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 list me 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 gone.
On, officer, to prison till it come.

[Exeunt Merchant, ANGELO, Officer, and
ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.

Dro. S. To Adriana? that is where we 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 masters' minds fulfil. [Erit.

SCENE I1.-The Same.

Enter ADRIANA, and LUCIANA.
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?

Look'd he or red, or pale? or sad, or merrily?
What observation mad'st thou in this case,
Of his heart's meteor's tilting in his face?

Luc. First he denied you had in him no right. 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, he begg'd of me.

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? Dro. S. 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 buff;

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;

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

Adr. Why, man, what is the matter?

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 the picture of old Adam new apparell'd?

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 sob, and 'rests them: he, sir, that takes pity on de

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 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 serjeant, ’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 serjeant in the way,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?

Re-enter 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, Conceit, my comfort, and my injury. [Exeunt.

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;

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 serjeant 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 serjeant 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!

I

Enter a Courtesan.

Cour. Well met, well met, master Antipholus. 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,

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 parings of one's nail,

A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,

A nut, a cherry-stone;

But she, more covetous, 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.

[Exit.