That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savored in thy taste,
Unless I spake, looked, touched, or carved to thee.
How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,
That thou art then 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 mayst 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,
Should'st 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 stained 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 it.
I am possessed with an adulterate blot;
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 bed;
I live disstained, thou undishonored.

Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not.
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 scanned,
Want wit in all one word to understand.

Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is changed 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 our names, Unless it be by inspiration ?

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,
Makes me with thy strength to communicate.
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion
Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion.

Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme.
What, was I married to her in my dream ?
Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this?
What error drives our eyes and ears amiss ?
Until I know this sure uncertainty,
I'll entertain the offered fallacy.

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 answerest not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!

Dro. S. I am transformed, master, am not I ?
Ant. s. I think thou art, in mind, and so am I.
Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind, and in my shape.
Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form.
Dro. S.

No, I am an ape. Luc. If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass.

Dro. S. 'Tis true; she rides me, and I long for grass. 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, But I should know her as well as she knows me.

Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep,

Whilst man, and master, laugh my woes to 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. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell ?
Sleeping or waking ? mad, or well advised ?
Known unto these, and to myself disguised !
I'll say as they say, and persever so,
And in this mist at all adventures go.

Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate ?
Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.
Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.



SCENE I. The same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, An

GELO, and BALTHAZAR. Ant. E. Good seignior Angelo, you must excuse us all ; My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours. Say, that I lingered with you at your shop, To see the making of her carcanet, 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 charged 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?

Dro. E. Say what you will, sir, but I know what 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 handwriting would tell you what I think.

Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass.
Dro. E.

Marry, so it doth appear
By the wrongs I suffer, and the blows I bear.
I should kick, being kicked; and, being at that pass,
Jou would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass.

Ant. E. You are sad, seignior 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 seignior 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. 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 good part; Better cheer you may have, but not with better heart. But, soft; my door is locked. 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 dined

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 office and

my name; The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, Thou wouldst have changed 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.

'Faith, no; he comes too late. And so tell your master. Dro. E.

O Lord, I must laugh.Have at you with a proverb.— Shall I set in my staff ? Luce. Have at you with another; that's,—When ? can

you tell ? Dro. S. If thy name be called Luce, Luce, thou hast

answered him well. Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? You'll let us in, I

hope? Luce. I thought to have asked you. Dro. S.

And you said, no. Dro. E. So, come, help; well struck; there was blow

for blow. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Luce.

Can you tell for whose sake ? Dre. E. Master, knock the door hard. Luce.

Let him knock till it acho. 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. By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly

boys. Ant. E. Are you there, wife? you might have come

before. Adr. Your wife, sir knave! go, get you from 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.

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