When I am dull with care and melancholy,
Lightens my humor with his merry jests.
What, will you walk with me about the town,
And then go to my inn, and dine with me?

Mer. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit;
I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,
Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart,
And afterwards consort you till bed-time:
My present business calls me from you now.
Ant. S. Farewell till then. I will go lose myself,
And wander up and down to view the city.

Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content.

[Exit. Ant. S. He that commends me to mine own content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the ocean seeks another drop; Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother, and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

Here comes the almanack of my true date.-,
What now? How chance thou art returned so soon?
Dro. E. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too
The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, [late.
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
She is so hot, because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold, because you come not home;
You come not home, because you have no stomach;
You have no stomach, having hroke your fast;
But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray,
Are penitent for your default to-day.

Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir. Tell me this, I pray;

?

Where have you left the money that I gave you
Dro. E. O! sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last
To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper.
The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.

me,

in post;

Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humor now.
Tell and dally not, where is the money?
We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust
So great a charge from thine own custody?
Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner.
I from my mistress come to you
If I return, I shall be post indeed,
For she will score your fault upon my pate.
Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your clock,
And strike you home without a messenger.
Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come; these jests are out
of season:

Reserve them till a merrier hour than this.
Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?
Dro. E. To me, sir? why you gave no gold to me.
Ant. S. Come on, sir knave; have done your fool-

ishness,

And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge.
Dro. E. My charge was but to fetch you from the

mart

Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner. My mistress, and her sister, stay for you.

Ant. S. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, Or I shall break that merry 'sconce of yours, That stands on tricks when I am undispos'd. Where is the thousand marks thou had'st of me?

"Soon at," i. e., about.- Accompany.- Loses. "The almanack of my true date," i, e., because he and Dromio were both born in the same hour.-"Are penitent," i. e., are doing penance.-' Head.

Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate; Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, But not a thousand marks between you both. If I should pay your worship those again, Perchance you would not bear them patiently. Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks! what mistress, slave, hast thou?

Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the
Phoenix;

She that doth fast till you come home to dinner,
And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.
Ant. S. What, wilt thou & flout me thus unto my face,
Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.
[Strikes him.

Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands.

Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.
[Exit running.
Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other
The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.
They say, this town is full of cozenage;
As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,
Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind,
Soul-killing witches that deform the body,
Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many such like 3 libertines of sin:
I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave:
If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
I greatly fear, my money is not safe.

ACT II.

SCENE I-A public Place.

[Exit.

Enter ADRIANA, wife to ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and LUCIANA her sister.

Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master? Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine, and never fret.

A man is master of his liberty:

Time is their master; and, when they see time,
They'll go, or come: if so, be patient, sister.

Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more?
Luc. Because their business still lies out o' door.
Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
Luc. O know he is the bridle of your will.
Adr. There's none but asses will be bridled so.
Luc. Why, head-strong liberty is lash'd with woe.
There's nothing situate under heaven's eye,
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky:
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subjects, and at their controls.
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,

Lords of the wide world, and wild wat'ry seas,

Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
Then, let your will attend on their accords.

Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some
sway.

Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey.

Mock; insult.- Overreached. The "Centaur" was the sign of the inn where he was entertained.-i. e., woe is the punishment of headstrong liberty.

Adr. How if your husband start some other a where?
Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear.
Adr. Patience unmov'd, no marvel though she
b pause;

They can be meek, that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;

But were we burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain:
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would'st relieve me;
But if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.

Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try.Here comes your man: now is your husband nigh. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.

Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? Know'st thou his mind?

Dro. E. Ay ay; he told his mind upon mine ear. Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubly, thou couldst not feel his meaning?

Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubly, that I could scarce understand them.

Adr. But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain! Dro. E.

I mean not cuckold-mad; But, sure, he is stark mad. When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: Will you come, quoth I? my gold, quoth he: Where is the thousand marks gave thee, villain? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; my gold, quoth he: My mistress, sir, quoth I; hang up thy mistress! I know not thy mistress: out on thy mistress! Luc. Quoth who?

Dro. E. Quoth my master:

I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress.
So that my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bear home upon my shoulders;
For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake, send some other messenger.

Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other Between you I shall have a holy head. [beating. Adr. Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master

home.

Dro. E. Am I so fround with you, as you with me, That like a foot-ball you do spurn me thus? You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: of I last in this service, you must case me in leather.

[Exit.

Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then, he hath wasted it:

a "Some other where," i. e., somewhere else. The mean. ing is, "How if your husband start in pursuit of other women?"-"Though she pause," i. e., though she be quiet. "No other cause," i. e., no cause to be otherwise. Idiotic. Stand under."Round" is plain-spoken: Dromio uses the word in a double sense, alluding to the foot-ball,

| Are my discourses dull? barren my wit?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd,
Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard.
Do their gay vestments his affections bait ?
That's not my fault; he's master of my state.
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd? then, is he the ground
Of my defeatures. My decayed fair
A sunny look of his would soon repair;
But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home: poor I am but his stale.
Luc. Self-harming jealousy!-fie! beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense.
I know his eye doth homage other where,
Or else, what lets it but he would be here?
Sister, you know, he promis'd me a chain:
Would that alone, alone he would 'detain,

So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
I see, the jewel best enamelled

Will lose his beauty: yet though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, and often touching will
Wear gold; and no man, that hath a name,
But falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.
Ant. S. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave
Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out.
By computation, and mine host's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, since at first
I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes.
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

How now, sir! is your merry humor alter'd?
As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
You know no Centaur? You receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me? [word?
Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a
Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour
since.

Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.

Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas'd. Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein. What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.

Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beating him.

Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest Upon what bargain do you give it me? [is earnest: Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes Do use you for my fool, and chat with you, Your sauciness will jest upon my love, And make a common of my serious "hours. When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. If you will jest with me, know my aspect, And fashion your demeanor to my looks,

"Defeatures," i. e., change of features; loss of comeliness. Beauty; fairness." Stale," i. e., cast-off favorite.Hinders. i. e., Would that he would keep the chain alone from me.-m "And" is used here, probably, for an.-i. e., intrude on them when you please.-"Know my aspect," i. e., study my countenance.

Or I will beat this method in your sconce
Dro. S. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave
battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use
these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head,
and insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in
my shoulders. But, I pray, sir, why am I beaten?
Ant. S. Dost thou not know?

Dro. S. Nothing, sir; but that I am beaten.
Ant. S. Shall I tell you why?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.

Ant. S. Why, first,-for flouting me; and then, wherefore, for urging it the second time to me. Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, [rhyme nor reason?— When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither Well, sir, I thank you.

Ant. S. Thank me, sir? for what? Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something, that you gave me for nothing.

Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, and give you nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner

time?

Dro. S. No, sir: I think, the meat wants that I

have.

Ant. S. In good time, sir; what's that?
Dro. S. Basting.

Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.

Dro. S. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it.
Ant. S. Your reason?

Dro. S. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting.

Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a time for all things.

Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric.

Ant. S. By what rule, sir?

Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, e'en 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, and frown:
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects,
I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.

The time was once, when thou unurg'd would'st vow
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never objects pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste,
Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd.3
How comes it now, my husband, O! how comes it,
That thou art thus 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 may'st thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulph,
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!
Would'st thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,

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 periwig, 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.

Ant. S Nay, not sound, I pray you.

Dro. S. Sure ones then.

And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?

I know thou can'st; and therefore, see, thou do it.
I am possess'd 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 unstain'd, thou undishonored.
[not.

5

[you!

Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you 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 scann'd, Want wit in all one word to understand. Luc. Fie, brother: how the world is chang'd with 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?

[him,

Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows Denied my house for his, me for his wife. [woman? Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentleWhat 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,

• Beckons.- "Fall," i. e., let fall.- Debauched.

Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
Be it my wrong, you are from me aexempt,
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.

[theme!

Ant. S. To me she speaks; she 1 means me for her What, was I married to her in my dream, Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this? What error 2 draws our eyes and ears amiss? Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the 3 proffer'd 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: O, spite of spites!
We talk with goblins, owls, and elves and 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 Dromio, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!
Dro. S. I am transformed, master, am I not?
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 chang'd to aught, 'tis to an ass.
Dro. S. 'Tis true; she rides me, and I long for
'Tis so,
I am an ass; else it could never be, [grass.
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 my 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-advis'd?
Known unto these, and to myself disguis'd?
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.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The Same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.

Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours. [us; Say, that I linger'd with you at your shop To see the making of her carkanet, 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 charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold;

And that I did deny my wife and house.-
Thou drunkard, thou, what did'st thou mean by this?
Dro. E. Say what you will, sir; but I know what
I know.
[show:
That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to
If my skin were parchment, and the blows you gave
were ink,
[what I think.
Your own hand-writing would tell you for certain
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 kick'd; and being at that pass,
You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass.
Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: pray God,
[here.
May answer my good-will, and your good welcome
Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your

our cheer

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. [feast. Bal. Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: [part; But though my cates be mean, take them in good Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.

But soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in.
Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian,
Gin!
[Calling.
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, [door. When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the Dro. E. What patch is made our porter?-My

master stays in the street.

Dro. S. Let him walk from whence he came, lest

[door.

he catch cold on's feet. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho! open the Dro. S. Right, sir: I'll tell you when, an you'll tell me wherefore. [din'd to-day. Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not Dro. S. Nor to-day here you must not, come again when you may. [the house I owe? Ant. E. What art thou that keep'st me out from Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir; and my

name is Dromio. [office and my name:

Dro. E. O villain! thou hast stolen both mine The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. If thou had'st been Dromio to-day in my place, Thou would'st have changed thy face for a name, or thy name for 10 a face.

Luce. [Within.] What a coil is there, Dromio: who are those at the gate? Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce. 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? [hast answer'd him well. Dro. S. If thy name be called Luce, Luce, thou Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us Luce. I thought to have ask'd you. [in, Il trow?

A "mome" was a fool, or a foolish jester.-"Patch !" a term of contempt applied to persons of low condition.Own.- Hubbub; tumult.