Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot brow, plain bald pate of father Time himself. Ant. S. Let's hear it. Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature. Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man. Ant. S. Why is time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts: and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit. Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. Dro. S. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair. Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: Yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity. Ant. S. For what reason! Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too. Dro. S. Sure ones then. Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. Ant. S. Name them. Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge. Ant. S. You would all this time have proved there is no time for all things. Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature. Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the world's end, will have bald followers. Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion: But soft! who wafts' us yonder? Enter Adriana and Luciana. Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange, Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects, And from my false hand cut the wedding ring, I I know thou canst; and therefore, see, thou do it. I Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed; live dis-stain'd, thou undishonoured. Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know In Ephesus I am but two hours old, Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd with you! When were you wont to use my sister thus? Dro. S. By me? Adr. By thee: and this thou did'st return from names, Unless it be by inspiration? Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, The time was once, when thou unurg'd would'st VOW, That never words were music to thine ear, As take from me thyself, and not me too. (1) Beckons. Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: What, was I married to her in my dream? Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Dro. S. O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. This is the fairy land;-0, spite of spites!We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprites; If we obey them not, this will ensue, They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. Luc. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. No, I am an ape. Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to un ass. Dro. S. 'Tis true; she rides me, and I long for grass. 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate? Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pale. Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. [Exeunt. Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: this? Dro. E. Say what you will, sir, but I know whatj I know: That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think. ass. Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: 'Pray God, our cheer' May answer my good will, and your good welcome here. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear. Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. (1) Absolve. (2) A necklace strung with pearls. (3) Dishes of meat. (4) Blockhead. (5) Fool. But, soft; my door is lock'd; Go bid them let us in. Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Jen'! Dro. 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, When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. 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. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the door. 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. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe? Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine of Luce. Have at you with another: that's,-When? can you tell? Dro. S. If thy name be call'd Luce, Luce, thou hast answer'd him well. Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? Luce. I thought to have ask'd you. And you said, no. Dro. E. So, come, help; well struck; there was blow for blow. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Luce. 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. By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys. Ant. E. Are you there, wife? you might have | Pretty and witty; wild, and, yet too, gentle; come before. There will we dine: this woman that I mean, Adr. Your wife, sir knave? go, get you from My wife (but, I protest, without desert,) the door. 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: It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. 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 Bal. Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so; Once this,-Your long experience of her wisdom, For ever hous'd, where it once gets possession. Ant. E. You have prevailed; I will depart in quiet, And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. (1) Have part. (2) A proverbial phrase. (3) i. e. Made fast. (4) By this time. (5) Love-springs are young plants or shoots of love. Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal; Ant. E. Do so: This jest shall cost me some expense. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Enter Luciana, and Antipholus of Syracuse. Luc. And may it be that you have quite forgot Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; ness: Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Be secret-false: What need she be acquainted? Than our earth's wonder; more than earth divine. The folded meaning of your word's deceit. Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Far more, far more, to you do I decline. (6) i. e. Being made altogether of credulity. Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eye. Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight. Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Luc. O, soft, sir, hold you still; I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will. [Exit Luciana. Enter, from the house of Antipholus of Ephesus, Dromio of Syracuse. Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio? where runn'st thou so fast? Dro. S. Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I your man? am I myself? 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? 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 embellish'd 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. 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 assur'd' to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, great wart on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran thou art thyself. Dro. S. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and besides myself. 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 haunts 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? sir Dro. S. A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may not speak of, without he say, 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? from her as a witch: and, I think, if my breast had Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the road; [Exit. Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here; I Ang. Master Antipholus? Ang. I know it well, sir: Lo, here is the chain; Dro. S. Swart,2 like my shoe, but her face no-The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long. thing 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. Ant. S. What is your will, that I shall do with this? Ang. What please yourself, sir; I have made it for you. (3) Large ships. (4) Affianced. (5) A turn-spit. Ant. S. Made it for me, sir? I bespoke it not. Go home with it, and please your wife withal; ACT IV. [Exit. SCENE I.-The same. Enter a Merchant, An- Mer. You know, since Pentecost the sum is due, To Persia, and want guilders' for my voyage: Or I'll attach you by this officer. 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 Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have; Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, Come, where's the chain? I pray you let me see it. Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to you, If not, I'll leave him to the officer. Is growing2 to me by Antipholus: Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, and Dromio of Off. That labour may you save; see where he comes. Ant. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow I promised your presence, and the chain; Ant. E. I answer you! What should I answer Ang. The money, that you owe me for the chain. to say so. Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it: Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. Ang. This touches me in reputation :- Ant. E. Consent to pay thee that I never had! Ang. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer; would not spare my brother in this case, If he should scorn me so apparently. I Off. I do arrest you, sir; you hear the suit. Ang. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, Enter Dromio of Syracuse. Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum, |