Dro. S. [within] By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys. Ant. E. Are you there, wife? you might have come before. Adr. [within] 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 there 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. [within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate. Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, and words are but wind; sir; Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. Dro. S. [within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon thee, hind! Dro. E. Here's too much "out upon thee!" I pray thee, let me in. Dro. S. [within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fish have no fin. 70 Ant. E. Well, I'll break in :-go borrow me a crow. 80 Dro. E. A crow without 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 together. Ant. E. Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. Once this, your long experience of her wisdom, Plead on her part some cause to you unknown; For ever housed where it gets possession. Ant. E. You have prevail'd: I will depart in quiet, And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. I know a wench of excellent discourse, Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle : 90 100 110 And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made: pense. [Exeunt. 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, Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot? If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kind ness: Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your false love with some show of blindness: Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word. 120 10 20 Alas, poor women! make us but believe, 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 of mine,Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not Than our earth's wonder; more than earth divine. Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Against my soul's pure truth why labour you To make it wander in an unknown field? Are 30 you a god? would you create me new? Transform me, then, and to your power I'll yield. 40 But if that I am I, then well I know Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Nor to her bed no homage do I owe: Far more, far more to you do I decline. O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, 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. 50 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. It is thyself, mine own self's better part, Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart, Give me thy hand. Luc. [Exit. 70 I'll fetch my sister, to get her good-will. Enter 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? Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, 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 80 that will have me. Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee? Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to |