S. Ant.

Why how now, Dromio, where runn'st thou so fast?

S. Dro.

Do you know me, Sir? am I Dromio? am I your man? am I my self?

S. Ant.

Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thy self.

S. Dro.

I am an ass, I am a woman's man and besides my self.

S. Ant.

What woman's man? and how besides thy self?

S. Dro.

Marry, Sir, besides my self, I am due to a woman; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.

S. Ant.

What claim lays she to thee?

S. Dro.

Marry, Sir, such claim as you would lay to your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that I being a beast she would have me, but that she being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.

S. Ant.

What is she?

S. Dro.

A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may

not speak of, without he say, Sir reverence: I have but lean luck in the match; and yet is she a wond'rous fat marriage.

S. Ant.

How dost thou mean, a fat marriage?

S. Dro.

Marry, Sir, she's the kitchen-wench, and all grease, and I know not what use to put her to, but to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a Poland winter: if she lives 'till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

S. Ant.

What complection is she of?

S. Dro.

Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like so clean kept; for why? she sweats, a man may go over-shoes in the grime of it.

S. Ant.

That's a fault that water will mend.

S. Dro.

No, Sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.

S. Ant.

What's her name?

S. Dro.

Nell, Sir; but her name is three quarters; that is, an ell and three quarters will not measure her from hip to hip.

S. Ant.

Then she bears some breadth?

S. Dro.

No longer from head to foot, than from hip to hip; she is spherical, like a globe: I could find out countries in her.

S. Ant.

In what part of her body stands Ireland?

S. Dro.

Marry, Sir, in her buttocks; I found it out by the bogs.

S. Ant.

Where Scotland?

S. Dro.

I found it by the barrenness, hard in the palm of her hand.

S. Ant.

Where France?

S. Dro.

In her forehead, arm'd and reverted, making war against her hair.

S. Ant.

Where England?

S. Dro.

I look'd for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no

whiteness in them; but I guess, it stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

S. Ant.

Where Spain?

S. Dro.

Faith, I saw it not, but I felt it hot in her breath.

S. Ant.

Where America, the Indies?

S. Dro.

Oh Sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellish'd with rubies, carbuncles, saphires, declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadoes of carracts to be ballast at her nose.

S. Ant.

Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?

S. Dro.

Oh, Sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me Dromio, swore I was assur'd to her, told me what privy marks I had about me, as the marks of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I amaz'd, ran from her as a witch. And I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transform'd me to a curtal dog, and made me turn i'th' wheel.

S. Ant.
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 knows us, and we know none,
'Tis time I think to trudge, pack and be gone.

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

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