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A Public Place. | |
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Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. | |
| Ant. S. There’s not a man I meet but doth salute me, | |
| As if I were their well acquainted friend; | |
| And every one doth call me by my name. | 5 |
| Some tender money to me; some invite me; | |
| Some other give me thanks for kindnesses; | |
| Some offer me commodities to buy: | |
| Even now a tailor call’d me in his shop | |
| And show’d me silks that he had bought for me, | 10 |
| And therewithal, took measure of my body. | |
| Sure these are but imaginary wiles, | |
| And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. | |
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Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. | |
| Dro. S. Master, here’s the gold you sent me for. | 15 |
| What! have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled? | |
| Ant. S. What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean? | |
| Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf’s skin that was killed for the Prodigal: he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. | |
| Ant. S. I understand thee not. | |
| Dro. S. No? why, ’tis a plain case: he that went, like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and ’rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a morris-pike. | 20 |
| Ant. S. What, thou meanest an officer? | |
| Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, ‘God give you good rest!’ | |
| Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? | |
| Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the sergeant to tarry for the hoy Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you. | |
| Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I; | 25 |
| And here we wander in illusions: | |
| Some blessed power deliver us from hence! | |
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Enter a Courtezan. | |
| Cour. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. | |
| I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now: | 30 |
| Is that the chain you promis’d me to-day? | |
| Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee tempt me not! | |
| Dro. S. Master, is this Mistress Satan? | |
| Ant. S. It is the devil. | |
| Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil’s dam, and here she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes that the wenches say, ‘God damn me;’ that’s as much as to say, ‘God make me a light wench.’ It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her. | 35 |
| Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? we’ll mend our dinner here. | |
| Dro. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, so bespeak a long spoon. | |
| Ant. S. Why, Dromio? | |
| Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil. | |
| Ant. S. Avoid thee, fiend! what tell’st thou me of supping? | 40 |
| Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress: | |
| I conjure thee to leave me and be gone. | |
| Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, | |
| Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis’d, | |
| And I’ll be gone, sir, and not trouble you. | 45 |
| Dro. S. Some devils ask but the parings of one’s nail, | |
| A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, | |
| A nut, a cherry-stone; | |
| But she, more covetous, would have a chain. | |
| Master, be wise: an if you give it her, | 50 |
| The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it. | |
| Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain: | |
| I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. | |
| Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go. | |
| Dro. S. ‘Fly pride,’ says the peacock: mistress, that you know. [Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse. | 55 |
| Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad, | |
| Else would he never so demean himself. | |
| A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, | |
| And for the same he promis’d me a chain: | |
| Both one and other he denies me now. | 60 |
| The reason that I gather he is mad, | |
| Besides this present instance of his rage, | |
| Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner, | |
| Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. | |
| Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits, | 65 |
| On purpose shut the doors against his way. | |
| My way is now to hie home to his house, | |
| And tell his wife, that, being lunatic, | |
| He rush’d into my house, and took perforce | |
| My ring away. This course I fittest choose, | 70 |
| For forty ducats is too much to lose. [Exit. | |
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