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.
O, 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.

Ant. S.

That's my

sister.

No;

It is thyself, mine own self's better part;

Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer

heart.

1 i. 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.

O, soft, sir, hold you still: I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.

[Exit Luc.

Exter, from the House of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Syracuse.

Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio? where run'st thou so fast?

I

Dro. S. Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am 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.

to

Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee?

Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay 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.

Enter ANGELO.

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 have:

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

well.

[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.

[Exit.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

The same.

Enter a Merchant, ANGELO, and an Officer.

Mer. You know, since pentecost the sum is due, And since I have not much impórtun'd you; Nor now I had not, but that I am bound To Persia, and want gilders for my voyage: Therefore make present satisfaction,

Or I'll attach you by this officer.

Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to you, Is growing to me by Antipholus:

2

And, in the instant that I met with you,
He had of me a chain; at five o'clock,
I shall receive the money for the same:
Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house,
I will discharge my bond, and thank you too.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and DROMIO of Ephesus.

Off. That labour may you save; see where he

comes.

Ant. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go

thou

And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow
Among my wife and her confederates,
For locking me out of my doors by day.
But soft, I see the goldsmith:-get thee gone;
Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.

2 Accruing.

Dro. E. I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy a rope! [Exit DROMIO. Ant. E. A man is well holp up, that trusts to you: I promised your presence, and the chain; But neither chain, nor goldsmith, came to me: Belike, you thought our love would last too long, If it were chain'd together; and therefore came not. Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the note, How much your chain weighs to the utmost carrat; The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion; Which doth amount to three odd ducats more That I stand debted to this gentleman; I pray you, see him presently discharg'd, For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it. Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present money: Besides, I have some business in the town: Good signior take the stranger to my house, And with you take the chain, and bid Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof; Perchance, I will be there as soon as you. Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourself?

my

wife

Ant. E. No; bear it with you, lest I come not. time enough.

Ang. Well, sir, I will: Have you the chain about you?

Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have;
Or else you may return without your money.
Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the
chain;

Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman,
And I, to blame, have held him here too long.
Ant. E. Good lord, you use this dalliance, to ex-

cuse

Your breach of promise to the Porcupine: I should have chid you for not bringing it, But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl. Mer. The hour steals on; I pray you, sir, despatch,