Merchant.
You know, since Pentecost the sum is due;
And since I have not much importun'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.
Ev'n just the sum, that I do owe to you,
Is growing to me by Antipholis;
And, in the instant that I met with you,
He had of me a chain: at five o'clock,
I shall receive the mony for the same:
Please you but walk with me down to his house,
I will discharge my bond, and thank you too. Enter Antipholis of Ephesus, and Dromio of Ephesus, as from the Courtezan's.

Offi.
That labour you may save: see, where he comes.

E. Ant.
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.

E. Dro.
I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy a rope! [Exit Dromio.

E. Ant.
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; 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, the chargeful fashion;
Which do amount to three odd ducats more,
Than 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.

E. Ant.
I am not furnish'd with the present mony;
Besides, I have some business in the town;
Good Signior, take the stranger to my house,
And with you take the chain, and bid my wife
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?

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

Ang.
Well, Sir, I will: have you the chain about you?

E. Ant.
An if I have not, Sir, I hope, you have:
Or else you may return without your mony.

Ang.
Nay, come, I pray you, Sir, give me the chain;
Both wind and tide stay for this gentleman;
And I, to blame, have held him here too long.

E. Ant.
Good lord, you use this dalliance to excuse
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, dispatch.

Ang.
You hear, how he importunes me; the chain—

E. Ant.
Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your mony.

Ang.
Come, come, you know, I gave it you, ev'n now.
Or send the chain, or send me by some token.

E. Ant.
Fie, now you run this humour out of breath:
Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it.

Mer.
My business cannot brook this dalliance:
Good Sir, say, whe'r you'll answer me, or no;
If not, I'll leave him to the officer.

E. Ant.
I answer you? why should I answer you?

Ang.
The mony, that you owe me for the chain.

E. Ant.
I owe you none, 'till I receive the chain.

Ang.
You know, I gave it you half an hour since.

E. Ant.
You gave me none; you wrong me much to say so.

Ang.
You wrong me more, Sir, in denying it;
Consider how it stands upon my credit.

Mer.
Well, officer, arrest him at my suit.

Offi.

I do, and charge you in the Duke's name to obey me.

Ang.
This touches me in reputation.
Either consent to pay the sum for me,
Or I attach you by this officer.

E. Ant.
Consent to pay for that I never had!
Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st.

Ang.
Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer;
I would not spare my brother in this case,
If he should scorn me so apparently.

Offi.
I do arrest you, Sir; you hear the suit.

E. Ant.
I do obey thee, 'till I give thee bail.
But, Sirrah, you shall buy this sport as dear
As all the metal in your shop will answer.

Ang.
Sir, Sir, I shall have law in Ephesus,
To your notorious shame, I doubt it not. SCENE II. Enter Dromio of Syracuse, from the Bay.

S. Dro.
Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum,
That stays but till her owner comes aboard;

Then, Sir, she bears away. Our fraughtage, Sir,
I have convey'd aboard; and I have bought
The Oyl, the Balsamum, and Aqua-vitæ.
The ship is in her trim; the merry wind
Blows fair from land; they stay for nought at all,
But for their owner, master, and yourself.

E. Ant.
How now! a mad man! why, thou peevish sheep,
What ship of Epidamnum stays for me?

S. Dro.
A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage.

E. Ant.
Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope;
And told thee to what purpose, and what end.

S. Dro.
You sent me for a rope's-end as soon:
You sent me to the bay, Sir, for a bark.

E. Ant.
I will debate this matter at more leisure,
And teach your ears to list me with more heed.
To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight,
Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk
That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry,
There is a purse of ducats, let her send it:
Tell her, I am arrested in the street,
And that shall bail me; hie thee, slave; be gone:
On, officer, to prison 'till it come. [Exeunt.

S. Dro.
To Adriana! that is where we din'd,
Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband;
She is too big, I hope, for me to compass.
Thither I must, altho' against my will,
For servants must their masters' minds fulfil. [Exit. SCENE III. Changes to E. Antipholis's House. Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adr.
Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
Might'st thou perceive austerely in his eye
That he did plead in earnest, yea or no?

Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily?
What observation mad'st thou in this case,
Of his heart's ^{1 note}



meteors tilting in his face?

Luc.
First he deny'd, 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 begg'd for you, he begg'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.

Adr.
Did'st speak him fair?

Luc.
Have patience, I beseech.

Adr.
I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have its will.
He is deformed, crooked, old and sere,
I'll-fac'd, worse-body'd, shapeless every where;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind,
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.

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

SCENE IV. Enter Dromio of Syracuse.

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

Luc.
How hast thou lost thy breath?

S. Dro.
By running fast.

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

S. Dro.
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 (a) ^notefury, pitiless and rough,
A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that commands
The passages of allies, 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?

S. Dro.

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

Adr.

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

S. Dro.

I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well; but he's in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that I can tell. Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the mony 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 bond?

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

Adr.
What, the chain?

S. Dro.
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 I did never hear.

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

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

S. Dro.
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? Enter Luciana.

Adr.
Go, Dromio; there's the mony, bear it straight,
  And bring thy master home immediately.
Come, sister, I am prest down with conceit;
  Conceit, my comfort and my injury. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Changes to the Street. Enter Antipholis of Syracuse.

S. Ant.
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.
Some tender mony to me, some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy.
Ev'n now a taylor call'd me in his shop,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,

And therewithal took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. Enter Dromio of Syracuse.

S. Dro.

Master, here's the gold you sent me for; what, have you got rid of the picture of old Adam new-apparel'd?

S. Ant.

What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean?

S. Dro.

Not that Adam, that kept the paradise; but that Adam, that keeps the prison; he that goes in the calves skin, that was kill'd for the prodigal; he that came behind you, Sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.

S. Ant.

I understand thee not.

S. Dro.

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 decay'd men, and gives 'em suits of durance; ^{2 note}

rest to do more exploits with his mace, than a Maurice-Pike.

S. Ant.

What! thou mean'st an officer?

S. Dro.

Ay, Sir, the serjeant of the band; he, that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his bond; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and saith, God give you good rest!

S. Ant.
Well, Sir, there rest in your foolery.
Is there any ship puts forth to night? may we be gone?

S. Dro.

Why, Sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition puts forth to night, and then were you hinder'd by the serjeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay; here are the angels that you sent for, to deliver you.

S. Ant.
The fellow is distract, and so am I,
And here we wander in illusions;
Some blessed power deliver us from hence! SCENE VI. Enter a Courtezan.

Cour.
Well met, well met, master Antipholis.
I see, Sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
Is that the chain, you promis'd me to day?

S. Ant.
Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.

S. Dro.

Master, is this mistress Satan?

S. Ant.

It is the devil.

S. Dro.

Nay, she is worse, she's the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and thereof comes, that the wenches say, God dam 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.

Cour.

Your man and you are marvellous merry, Sir. Will you go with me, we'll mend our dinner here?

S. Dro.

Master, if you do expect spoon-meat, bespeak a long spoon.

S. Ant.

Why, Dromio?

S. Dro.

Marry, he must have a long spoon, that must eat with the devil.

S. Ant.
Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping?
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.

S. Dro.

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, 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?

S. Ant.
Avaunt, thou witch! come, Dromio, let us go.

S. Dro.
Fly pride, says the peacock; mistress, that you know. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. Manet Courtezan.

Cour.
Now, out of doubt, Antipholis 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.

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 door being shut against his entrance.
Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,
On purpose shut the doors against his way.
My way is now to hie home to his house,
And tell his wife, that, being lunatick,
He rush'd into my house, and took perforce
My ring away. This course I fittest chuse;
For forty ducats is too much to lose. [Exit. SCENE VIII. Changes to the Street. Enter Antipholis of Ephesus, with a Jailor.

E. Ant.
Fear me not, man; I will not break away;
I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much mony,
To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to day,
And will not lightly trust the messenger.
That I should be attach'd in Ephesus,
I tell you, 'twould sound harshly in her ears.— Enter Dromio of Ephesus, with a Rope's-end.
Here comes my man; I think, he brings the mony.
How now, Sir, have you that I sent you for?

E. Dro.
Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all.

E. Ant.
But where's the mony?

E. Dro.
Why, Sir, I gave the mony for the rope.

E. Ant.
Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope?

E. Dro.
I'll serve you, Sir, five hundred at the rate.

E. Ant.
To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?

E. Dro.

To a rope's-end, Sir; and to that end am I return'd.

E. Ant.

And to that end, Sir, I will welcome you.

Offi.

Good Sir, be patient.

E. Dro.

Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.

Offi.

Good now, hold thy tongue.

E. Dro.

Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands.

E. Ant.

Thou whorson, senseless villain!

E. Dro.

I would, I were senseless, Sir, that I might not feel your blows.

E. Ant.

Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass.

E. Dro.

I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have serv'd him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm, he cools me with beating; I am wak'd with it, when I sleep; rais'd with it, when I sit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcom'd home with it, when I return; nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lam'd me, I shall beg with it from door to door.