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And, about evening, come yourself alone,
To know the reason of this strange restraint.
If by strong hand you offer to break in,
Now in the stirring passage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made on it;
And that supposed by the common rout
Against your yet ungalled estimation,

with foul intrusion enter in,
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead:
For slander lives upon succession ;
For ever hous'd, where it once gets possession.

Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet
And, in despight of mirth, mean to be merry.
I know a wench of excellent discourse, -
Pretty and witty ; wild, and yet, too, gentle;
There will we dine: this woman that I mean,
My wife (but, I protest, without desert,)
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 house: that chain will I bestow
(Be it for nothing but to spite my wife,
Upon mine hostess there : good sir, make haste:
Since mine 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, some 'hour

hence. Ant. E. Do so; This jest shall cost me some ex.. pence.


8 By this time.

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Enter LUCIANA, and ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.
Luc. If you did wed my sister for her wealth,
Then, for her wealth's sake, use her with more

kindness :
Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth ;

false love with some show of blindLet not my sister read it in your eye;

Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator ;
Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty;

Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger:
Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted ;

Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint ;
Be secret-false: What need she be acquainted ?

What simple 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 bastard 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 ; 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 vaino,

When the sweet breath of Aattery conquers strife.
Ant. S. Sweet mistress, (what your name is else, I
Nor by what wonder you do hit on mine,)

know not,

9 Vain, is light of tongue.

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 you a goddess ? would you make me new?

Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield. 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. 0, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,

To-drown me in thy sister's flood of tears ; Sing, Siren, for thyself, and I will dote:

Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs. 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. 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.

That's my sister. Ant. S. It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer



Ii,c. Confounded,

Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be. Ant. S. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I aim thee : Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life; Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife: Give me thy hand. Luc. 0, soft, sir, hold

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

[Exit Luc.

still :

Exter, from the House of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus,

DROŃ10 of Syracuse.
Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio? where run'st
thou so fast?
Dro. S. Do


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 that will have me.

Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee?
Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim


would lay


to your horse.

Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the road; And if the wind blow any way from shore, I will not harbour in this town to-night. If any bark put forth, come to the mart, Where I will walk, till thou return to me. If every one know us, and we know none, 'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be gone.

Dro. S. As from bear a man would run for life, So fly I from her that would be my wife. [Exit.

Ant. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here; And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.

She, that doth call me husband, even my soul
Doth for a wife abhor: but her fair sister,
Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,
Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
Hath almost made me traitor to myself:
But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.


Ang. Master Antipholus ?
Ant. S. Ay, that's my name.

Ang. I know it well, sir : Lo, here is the chain;
I thought to have ta’en you at the Porcupine:
The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.
Ant. S. What is your will, that I shall do with

this? Ang. What please yourself, sir; I have made it

for you.

Ant. S. Made it for me, sir ! I bespoke it not.
Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you

Go home with it, and please your wife withal ;
And soon at supper-time I'll visit you,
And then receive my money for the chain.

Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, For fear you ne'er see chain, nor money, more. Ang. You are a merry man, sir; fare you


[Exit. Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot

tell ; But this I think, there's no man is so vain, That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain. I see, a man here needs not live by shifts, When in the streets he meets such golden gifts. I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay; If any ship put out, then straight away. [Erit.

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