Ant. E. There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garinents 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 crow. Dro. E. A crow without a feather; master, mean you so? 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; 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. Once this,-Your long experience of her wisdom, Plead on her part some cause to you unknown; And let us to the Tiger all to dinner: And dwell upon your grave when you are dead: For ever hous'd, where it once gets possession. Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet, And, in despight 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, [to Ang. And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made: Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine; Ant. E. Do so; This jest shall cost me some ex[Exeunt. pence. SCENE II. THE SAME. Enter Luciana and Antipholus of Syracuse. Luc. And may it be that you have quite forgot A husband's office? shall, Antipholus, hate, Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot? Shall love, in building, grow so ruinate? If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then, for her wealth's sake, use her with more 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; Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger: Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; And let her read it in thy looks at board: Being compact of credit, 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, Nor by what wonder you do hit on mine,) Less, in your knowledge, and your grace, you show not, Than our earth's wonder; more than earth di vine. Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield. But if that I am I, then well I know, Far more, far more, to you do I decline. 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; how, I do not know. Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eye. Ant. S For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by. Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight. Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night. Luc. Why call you me love? call my sister so. Ant. S. Thy sister's sister. Luc. Ant. S. That's my sister. No; It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart; My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim. |