E. Dro. If you went in pain, mafter, this knave would go fore.

Ang. Here is neither cheer, Sir, nor welcome; we would fain have either.

Bal. In debating which was beft, *we shall have part with neither.

E. Dro. They fland at the door, mafter; bid them welcome hither,

E. Ant. There's fomething in the wind, that we cannot get in.

E. Dro. You would fay fo, mafter, if your gar

ments were thin.

Your cake here is warm within: you ftand here in the cold:

It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought and fold.

E. Ant. Go fetch me fomething, I'll break ope the

S. Dro. Break any thing here, and I'll break your

knave's pate.

E. Dro. A man may break a word with you, Sir, and words are but wind;

Ay, and break it in your face, fo he break it not be

hind.

S. Dro. It feems, thou wantest breaking; out upon thee, hind!

E. Dro. Here's too much, out upon thee! I pray thee, let me in.

S. Dro. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fish have no fin.

E. Ant. Well, I'll break in; go borrow me a crow. E. Dro. A crow without feather, mafter, mean you

fo ?

For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a fea

* we

read,

ther:

fhall part with neither.] Common Sense requires us to we shall have part with neither.

If a crow help us in, firrah, we'll pluck a crow toge

ther.

E. Ant. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron crow. Bal. Have patience, Sir: oh, let it not be fo., Herein you war againft your reputation, And draw within the compafs of fufpect Th' unviolated honour of your wife.

Once, this;-your long experience of her wifdom,
Her fober virtue, years, and modefty,

Plead on her part fome caufe to you unknown;
And doubt not, Sir, but fhe will well excufe,
Why at this time the doors are barr'd against you.
Be rul'd by me, depart in patience,
And let us to the Tyger all to dinner;
And about evening come yourself alone,
To know the reafon of this ftrange restraint.
If by ftrong hand you offer to break in,
Now in the ftirring paffage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made of it;
And that fuppofed by the common rout,
Against you yet ungalled eftimation,
with foul intrufion enter in,
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead :
For flander lives upon fucceffion;

That may

For ever hous'd, where it once get's poffeffion.

E. Ant. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet, And, in defpight of mirth, mean to be merry, I know a wench of excellent difcourfe, Pretty and witty, wild, and, yet too, gentle; There will we dine: this woman that I mean, My wife (but, I proteft, without defert,) Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal; To her will we to dinner. Get you home, And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made; Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine;

For there's the houfe: that chain will I beftow, (Be it for nothing but to fpight my wife,)

Upon mine hoftefs there. Good Sir, make hafte:

Since my own doors refuse to entertain me,

I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. Ang. I'll meet you at that place, fome hour, Sir, hence.

E. Ant. Do fo; this jeft fhall coft me fome expence.

Luc.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

The Houfe of Antipholis of Ephesus.
Enter Luciana, with Antipholis of Syracufe.

A

ND may it be that you have quite forgot A husband's office? fhall, Antipholis, Ev'n in the spring of love, thy love springs rot? Shall love, in building, grow fo ruinate?

If

you did wed my fifter for her wealth,

Then for her wealth's fake use her with more kind

nefs;

Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth;

Muffle your falfe love with fome fhew of blindness; Let not my fifter read it in your eye;

Be not thy tongue thy own fhame's orator;
Look fweet, fpeak fair; become difloyalty:
Apparel vice, like virtue's harbinger;

Bear a fair prefence, tho' your heart be tainted :
Teach fin the carriage of a holy faint;
Be fecret-falfe: what need fhe be acquainted?
What fimple thief brags of his own attaint?
'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed,
And let her read it in thy looks at board:
Shame hath a baftard fame, well managed;
Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word:
Alas, poor women! make us but believe,

Being compact of credit, that you love us;
Tho' others have the arm, fhew us the fleeve:
We in your motion turn, and
you may move us.

VOL. IV.

C

Then,

Then, gentle brother, get you in again;
Comfort my fifter, chear her, call her wife;

'Tis holy sport to be a little vain,

When the sweet breath of flattery conquers ftrife.

S. Ant. Sweet miftrefs, (what your name is elfe, I

know not;

Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine :)

Lefs in your knowledge and your grace you fhow not
Than our earth's wonder, more than earth divine.
Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;
Lay open to my earthy grofs conceit,
Smother'd in errors, feeble, fhallow, weak,

The foulded meaning of your words' deceit ;
Against my foul's pure truth why labour you,
To make it wander in an unknown field?

Are

you a God? would you create me new? Transform me then, and to your pow'r I'll yield. But if that I am I, then, well I know,

Your weeping fifter is no wife of mine;
Nor to her bed no homage do I owe;

Far more, far more, to you do I decline.
Oh, train me not, fweet mermaid, with thy note,
To drown me in thy fifter's flood of tears;
Sing, Siren, for thyfelf, and I will dote;

Spread o'er the filver waves thy golden hairs,
And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie:
And in that glorious fuppofition think,
He gains by death, that hath fuch means to die;
Let love, being light, be drowned if the fink.
Luc. What, are you mad, that you do reason so ?
S. Ant. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.
Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eye.
S. Ant. For gazing on your beams, fair fun, being
by.

Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your fight.

S. Ant. As good to wink, fweet love, as look on

night.

Luc.

Luc. Why call you me, love? call my fifter so. S. Ant. Thy fifter's fifter.

It is thyself, mine own felf'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 fole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.

Luc. All this my fifter is, or else should be.

S. Ant. Call thyself fifter, sweet; for I mean thee: Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life; Thou haft no husband yet, nor I no wife. Give me thy hand.

Luc. Oh, foft, Sir, hold you ftill;

I'll fetch my fifter, to get her good will.

S. Ant.

S

[Exit Luciana.

CENE III.

Enter Dromio of Syracufe.

W thou fo faft?

'HY, how now, Dromio, where run'ft

S. Dro. Do you know me, Sir? am I Dromio? am I your man? am I myself?

S. Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyfelf.

S. Dro. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and befides myself.

S. Ant. What woman's man? and how befides thyfelf?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman; one that claims me, one that hunts me, one that will have me.

S. Ant. What claim lays fhe to thee?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fuch a 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 fhe, being a very beaftly creature, lays claim to me.

C 2

S. Ant.