Adr.
Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
  &blquo;Might'st thou perceive austerely in his eye.
&blquo;That he did plead in earnest, yea, or no?
  &blquo;Look'd he or red, or pale; sad, merrily?
&blquo;What observation mad'st thou in this case,
&blquo;Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face* ^note?

Luc.
First, he deny'd you; you had in him no right.

Adr.
He meant, he did me none: the more my spight.

Luc.
Then swore he, that he was a stranger here.

Adr.
And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were:

Luc.
Then pleaded I for you.

Adr.
And what said he?

Luc.
That love, I beg'd for you, he beg'd of me.

Adr.
With what persuasion did he tempt thy love?

Luc.
With words that in an honest suit might move.
First, he did praise my beauty; then, my speech.

&blquo;Adr.
&blquo;Did'st speak him fair?

&blquo;Luc.
&blquo;Have patience, I beseech.

&blquo;Adr.
&blquo;I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still;
&blquo;My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
&blquo;He is deformed, crooked, old and sere,
&blquo;Ill-fac'd, worse body'd, shapeless every where;

&blquo;Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
&blquo;Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

Luc.
Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone.

&blquo;Adr.
&blquo;Ah, but I think him better than I say;
  &blquo;And yet would herein others' eyes were worse
&blquo;Far from her nest the lapwing cries away:
  &blquo;My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter Dromio Syracusan.

D. S.
Here, go; the desk, the purse; sweet now, make haste.

Luc.
How hast thou lost thy breath?

D. S.
By running fast.

Adr.
Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?

D. S.
No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell:
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
A fiend, a fury, pitiless, and rough;
A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff† ^note;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well;
One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls to hell.

Adr.
Why, man, what is the matter?

D. S.
I do not know the matter; he is 'rested on the case.

Adr.
What, is he arrested? tell me at whose suit?

D. S.
I know not, at whose suit he is arrested well;
But he's in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that can I tell:
Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?

Adr.
Go fetch it, sister.—This I wonder at, [Exit Luciana.
That he, unknown to me, should be in debt:—
Tell me, was he arrested on a band?

D. S.
Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
A chain, a chain; do you not hear it ring?

Adr.
What, the chain?

D. S.
No, no, the bell: 'tis time, that I were gone;
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.

Adr.
The hours come back! that did I never hear.

D. S.
O yes, if any hour meet a serjeant, he turns back for very fear.

Adr.
As if time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason?

D. S.
Time is a very bankrout, and owes more than he's worth to season.
Nay, he's a thief too; have you not heard men say,
That time comes stealing on by night and day?
If time be in debt, and theft, and a serjeant in the way,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day? Re-enter Luciana.

Adr.
Go, Dromio, there's the money, bear it strait;
  And bring thy master home immediately.—
Come, sister; I am press'd down with conceit;
  Conceit, my comfort, and my injury. [Exeunt.

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