Proceed , Solinus , to procure my fall ,
And by the doom of death end woes and all .

Merchant of Syracusa , plead no more .
I am not partial to infringe our laws :
The enmity and discord which of late 
Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke 
To merchants , our well-dealing countrymen ,
Who , wanting guilders to redeem their lives ,
Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods ,
Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks .
For , since the mortal and intestine jars 
'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us ,
It hath in solemn synods been decreed ,
Both by the Syracusians and ourselves ,
T' admit no traffic to our adverse towns :
Nay , more , if any , born at Ephesus 
Be seen at Syracusian marts and fairs ;
Again , if any Syracusian born 
Come to the bay of Ephesus , he dies ,
His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose ;
Unless a thousand marks be levied ,
To quit the penalty and to ransom him .
Thy substance , valu'd at the highest rate ,
Cannot amount unto a hundred marks ;
Therefore , by law thou art condemn'd to die .

Yet this my comfort : when your words are done ,
My woes end likewise with the evening sun .

Well , Syracusian ; say , in brief the cause 
Why thou departedst from thy native home ,
And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus .

A heavier task could not have been impos'd 
Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable ;
Yet , that the world may witness that my end 
Was wrought by nature , not by vile offence ,
I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave .
In Syracusa was I born , and wed 
Unto a woman , happy but for me ,
And by me too , had not our hap been bad .
With her I liv'd in joy : our wealth increas'd 
By prosperous voyages I often made 
To Epidamnum ; till my factor's death ,
And the great care of goods at random left ,
Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse :
From whom my absence was not six months old ,
Before herself ,almost at fainting under 
The pleasing punishment that women bear ,
Had made provision for her following me ,
And soon and safe arrived where I was .
There had she not been long but she became 
A joyful mother of two goodly sons ;
And , which was strange , the one so like the other ,
As could not be distinguish'd but by names .
That very hour , and in the self-same inn ,
A meaner woman was delivered 
Of such a burden , male twins , both alike .
Those ,for their parents were exceeding poor ,
I bought , and brought up to attend my sons .
My wife , not meanly proud of two such boys ,
Made daily motions for our home return :
Unwilling I agreed ; alas ! too soon 
We came aboard .
A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd ,
Before the always-wind-obeying deep 
Gave any tragic instance of our harm :
But longer did we not retain much hope ;
For what obscured light the heavens did grant 
Did but convey unto our fearful minds 
A doubtful warrant of immediate death ;
Which , though myself would gladly have embrac'd ,
Yet the incessant weepings of my wife ,
Weeping before for what she saw must come ,
And piteous plainings of the pretty babes ,
That mourn'd for fashion , ignorant what to fear ,
Forc'd me to seek delays for them and me .
And this it was , for other means was none :
The sailors sought for safety by our boat ,
And left the ship , then sinking-ripe , to us :
My wife , more careful for the latter-born ,
Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast ,
Such as seafaring men provide for storms ;
To him one of the other twins was bound ,
Whilst I had been like heedful of the other .
The children thus dispos'd , my wife and I ,
Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd ,
Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast ;
And floating straight , obedient to the stream ,
Were carried towards Corinth , as we thought .
At length the sun , gazing upon the earth ,
Dispers'd those vapours that offended us ,
And , by the benefit of his wished light 
The seas wax'd calm , and we discovered 
Two ships from far making amain to us ;
Of Corinth that , of Epidaurus this :
But ere they came ,O ! let me say no more ;
Gather the sequel by that went before .

Nay , forward , old man ; do not break off so ;
For we may pity , though not pardon thee .

O ! had the gods done so , I had not now 
Worthily term'd them merciless to us !
For , ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues ,
We were encounter'd by a mighty rock ;
Which being violently borne upon ,
Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst ;
So that , in this unjust divorce of us 
Fortune had left to both of us alike 
What to delight in , what to sorrow for .
Her part , poor soul ! seeming as burdened 
With lesser weight , but not with lesser woe ,
Was carried with more speed before the wind ,
And in our sight they three were taken up 
By fishermen of Corinth , as we thought .
At length , another ship had seiz'd on us ;
And , knowing whom it was their hap to save ,
Gave healthful welcome to their ship-wrack'd guests ;
And would have reft the fishers of their prey ,
Had not their bark been very slow of sail ;
And therefore homeward did they bend their course .
Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss ,
That by misfortune was my life prolong'd ,
To tell sad stories of my own mishaps .

And , for the sake of them thou sorrowest for ,
Do me the favour to dilate at full 
What hath befall'n of them and thee till now .

My youngest boy , and yet my eldest care ,
At eighteen years became inquisitive 
After his brother ; and importun'd me 
That his attendant for his case was like ,
Reft of his brother , but retain'd his name 
Might bear him company in the quest of him ;
Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see ,
I hazarded the loss of whom I lov'd .
Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece ,
Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia ,
And , coasting homeward , came to Ephesus ,
Hopeless to find , yet loath to leave unsought 
Or that or any place that harbours men .
But here must end the story of my life ;
And happy were I in my timely death ,
Could all my travels warrant me they live .

Hapless  geon , whom the fates have mark'd 
To bear the extremity of dire mishap !
Now , trust me , were it not against our laws ,
Against my crown , my oath , my dignity ,
Which princes , would they , may not disannul ,
My soul should sue as advocate for thee .
But though thou art adjudged to the death 
And passed sentence may not be recall'd 
But to our honour's great disparagement ,
Yet will I favour thee in what I can :
Therefore , merchant , I'll limit thee this day 
To seek thy life by beneficial help .
Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus ;
Beg thou , or borrow , to make up the sum ,
And live ; if no , then thou art doom'd to die .
Gaoler , take him to thy custody .

I will , my lord .

Hopeless and helpless doth  geon wend ,
But to procrastinate his lifeless end .


Therefore , give out you are of Epidamnum ,
Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate .
This very day , a Syracusian merchant 
Is apprehended for arrival here ;
And , not being able to buy out his life ,
According to the statute of the town 
Dies ere the weary sun set in the west .
There is your money that I had to keep .

Go bear it to the Centaur , where we host ,
And stay there , Dromio , till I come to thee .
Within this hour it will be dinner-time :
Till that , I'll view the manners of the town ,
Peruse the traders , gaze upon the buildings ,
And then return and sleep within mine inn ,
For with long travel I am stiff and weary .
Get thee away .

Many a man would take you at your word ,
And go indeed , having so good a mean .


A trusty villain , sir , that very oft ,
When I am dull with care and melancholy ,
Lightens my humour with his merry jests .
What , will you walk with me about the town ,
And then go to my inn and dine with me ?

I am invited , sir , to certain merchants ,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit ;
I crave your pardon . Soon at five o'clock ,
Please you , I'll meet with you upon the mart ,
And afterward consort you till bed-time :
My present business calls me from you now .

Farewell till then : I will go lose myself ,
And wander up and down to view the city .

Sir , I commend you to your own content .


He that commends me to mine own content ,
Commends me to the thing I cannot get .
I to the world am like a drop of water 
That in the ocean seeks another drop ;
Who , falling there to find his fellow forth ,
Unseen , inquisitive , confounds himself :
So I , to find a mother and a brother ,
In quest of them , unhappy , lose myself .


Here comes the almanack of my true date .

What now ? How chance thou art return'd so soon ?

Return'd so soon ! rather approach'd too late :
The capon burns , the pig falls from the spit ,
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell ;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek :
She is so hot because the meat is cold ;
The meat is cold because you come not home ;
You come not home because you have no stomach ;
You have no stomach , having broke your fast ;
But we , that know what 'tis to fast and pray ,
Are penitent for your default to-day .

Stop in your wind , sir : tell me this , I pray :
Where have you left the money that I gave you ?

O !sixpence , that I had o' Wednesday last 
To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ;
The saddler had it , sir ; I kept it not .

I am not in a sportive humour now .
Tell me , and dally not , where is the money ?
We being strangers here , how dar'st thou trust 
So great a charge from thine own custody ?

I pray you , jest , sir , as you sit at dinner .
I from my mistress come to you in post ;
If I return , I shall be post indeed ,
For she will score your fault upon my pate .
Methinks your maw , like mine , should be your clock 
And strike you home without a messenger .

Come , Dromio , come ; these jests are out of season ;
Reserve them till a merrier hour than this .
Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee ?

To me , sir ? why , you gave no gold to me .

Come on , sir knave , have done your foolishness ,
And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge .

My charge was but to fetch you from the mart 
Home to your house , the Ph nix , sir , to dinner :
My mistress and her sister stays for you .

Now , as I am a Christian , answer me ,
In what safe place you have bestow'd my money ;
Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours 
That stands on tricks when I am undispos'd .
Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me ?

I have some marks of yours upon my pate ,
Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders ,
But not a thousand marks between you both .
If I should pay your worship those again ,
Perchance you will not bear them patiently .

Thy mistress' marks ! what mistress , slave , hast thou ?

Your worship's wife , my mistress at the Ph nix ;
She that doth fast till you come home to dinner ,
And prays that you will hie you home to dinner .

What ! wilt thou flout me thus unto my face ,
Being forbid ? There , take you that , sir knave .


What mean you , sir ? for God's sake , hold your hands !
Nay , an you will not , sir , I'll take my heels .


Upon my life , by some device or other 
The villain is o'er-raught of all my money .
They say this town is full of cozenage ;
As , nimble jugglers that deceive the eye ,
Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind ,
Soul-killing witches that deform the body ,
Disguised cheaters , prating mountebanks ,
And many such-like liberties of sin :
If it prove so , I will be gone the sooner .
I'll to the Centaur , to go seek this slave :
I greatly fear my money is not safe .

Neither my husband , nor the slave return'd ,
That in such haste I sent to seek his master !
Sure , Luciana , it is two o'clock .

Perhaps some merchant hath invited him ,
And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner .
Good sister , let us dine and never fret :
A man is master of his liberty :
Time is their master , and , when they see time ,
They'll go or come : if so , be patient , sister .

Why should their liberty than ours be more ?

Because their business still lies out o' door .

Look , when I serve him so , he takes it ill .

O ! know he is the bridle of your will .

There's none but asses will be bridled so .

Why , headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe .
There's nothing situate under heaven's eye 
But hath his bound , in earth , in sea , in sky :
The beasts , the fishes , and the winged fowls ,
Are their males' subjects and at their controls .
Men , more divine , the masters of all these ,
Lords of the wide world , and wild wat'ry seas ,
Indu'd with intellectual sense and souls ,
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls ,
Are masters to their females and their lords :
Then , let your will attend on their accords .

This servitude makes you to keep unwed .

Not this , but troubles of the marriage-bed .

But , were you wedded , you would bear some sway .

Ere I learn love , I'll practise to obey .

How if your husband start some other where ?

Till he come home again , I would forbear .

Patience unmov'd ! no marvel though she pause ;
They can be meek that have no other cause .
A wretched soul , bruis'd with adversity ,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry ;
But were we burden'd with like weight of pain ,
As much , or more we should ourselves complain :
So thou , that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee ,
With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me :
But if thou live to see like right bereft .
This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left .

Well , I will marry one day , but to try .
Here comes your man : now is your husband nigh .


Say , is your tardy master now at hand ?

Nay , he's at two hands with me , and that my two ears can witness .

Say , didst thou speak with him ? Know'st thou his mind ?

Ay , ay , he told his mind upon mine ear .
Beshrew his hand , I scarce could understand it .

Spake he so doubtfully , thou couldst not feel his meaning ?

Nay , he struck so plainly , I could too well feel his blows ; and withal so doubtfully , that I could scarce understand them .

But say , I prithee , is he coming home ?
It seems he hath great care to please his wife .

Why , mistress , sure my master is horn-mad .

Horn-mad , thou villain !

I mean not cuckold-mad ; but , sure , he is stark mad .
When I desir'd him to come home to dinner ,
He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold :
''Tis dinner time ,' quoth I ; 'my gold !' quoth he :
'Your meat doth burn ,' quoth I ; 'my gold !' quoth he :
'Will you come home ?' quoth I : 'my gold !' quoth he :
'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee , villain ?' 
'The pig ,' quoth I , 'is burn'd ;' 'my gold !' quoth he :
'My mistress , sir ,' quoth I : 'hang up thy mistress !
I know not thy mistress : out on thy mistress !' 

Quoth who ?

Quoth my master :
'I know ,' quoth he , 'no house , no wife , no mistress .' 
So that my errand , due unto my tongue ,
I thank him , I bear home upon my shoulders ;
For , in conclusion , he did beat me there .

Go back again , thou slave , and fetch him home .

Go back again , and be new beaten home ?
For God's sake , send some other messenger .

Back , slave , or I will break thy pate across .

And he will bless that cross with other beating :
Between you , I shall have a holy head .

Hence , prating peasant ! fetch thy master home .

Am I so round with you as you with me ,
That like a football you do spurn me thus ?
You spurn me hence , and he will spurn me hither :
If I last in this service , you must case me in leather .


Fie , how impatience loureth in your face !

His company must do his minions grace ,
Whilst I at home starve for a merry look .
Hath homely age the alluring beauty took 
From my poor cheek ? then , he hath wasted it :
Are my discourses dull ? barren my wit ?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd ,
Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard :
Do their gay vestments his affections bait ?
That's not my fault ; he's master of my state :
What ruins are in me that can be found 
By him not ruin'd ? then is he the ground 
Of my defeatures . My decayed fair 
A sunny look of his would soon repair ;
But , too unruly deer , he breaks the pale 
And feeds from home : poor I am but his stale .

Self-harming jealousy ! fie ! beat it hence .

Unfeeling fools can with such wrengs dispense .
I know his eye doth homage otherwhere ,
Or else what lets it but he would be here ?
Sister , you know he promis'd me a chain :
Would that alone , alone he would detain ,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed !
I see , the jewel best enamelled 
Will lose his beauty ; and though gold bides still 
That others touch , yet often touching will 
Wear gold ; and no man that hath a name ,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame .
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye ,
I'll weep what's left away , and weeping die .

How many fond fools serve mad jealousy !


The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up 
Safe at the Centaur ; and the heedful slave 
Is wander'd forth , in care to seek me out .
By computation , and mine host's report ,
I could not speak with Dromio since at first 
I sent him from the mart . See , here he comes .


How now , sir ! is your merry humour alter'd ?
As you love strokes , so jest with me again .
You know no Centaur ? You receiv'd no gold ?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner ?
My house was at the Ph nix ? Wast thou mad ,

That thus so madly thou didst answer me ?

What answer , sir ? when spake I such a word ?

Even now , even here , not half-an-hour since .

I did not see you since you sent me hence ,
Home to the Centaur , with the gold you gave me .

Villain , thou didst deny the gold's receipt ,
And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner ;
For which , I hope , thou felt'st I was displeas'd .

I am glad to see you in this merry vein :
What means this jest ? I pray you , master , tell me .

Yea , dost thou jeer , and flout me in the teeth ?
Think'st thou I jest ? Hold , take thou that , and that .


Hold , sir , for God's sake ! now your jest is earnest .
Upon what bargain do you give it me ?

Because that I familiarly sometimes 
Do use you for my fool , and chat with you ,
Your sauciness will jest upon my love ,
And make a common of my serious hours .
When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport ,
But creep in crannies when he hides his beams .
If you will jest with me , know my aspect ,
And fashion your demeanour to my looks ,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce .

Sconce , call you it ? so you would leave battering , I had rather have it a head : an you use these blows long , I must get a sconce for my head and insconce it too ; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders . But , I pray , sir , why am I beaten ?

Dost thou not know ?

Nothing , sir , but that I am beaten .

Shall I tell you why ?

Ay , sir , and wherefore ; for they say every why hath a wherefore .

Why , first ,for flouting me ; and then , wherefore ,
For urging it the second time to me .

Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season ,
When , in the why and the wherefore is neither rime nor reason ?
Well , sir , I thank you .

Thank me , sir ! for what ?

Marry , sir , for this something that you gave me for nothing .

I'll make you amends next , to give you nothing for something . But say , sir , is it dinner-time ?

No , sir : I think the meat wants that I have 

In good time , sir ; what's that ?

Basting .

Well , sir , then 'twill be dry .

If it be , sir , I pray you eat none of it .

Your reason ?

Lest it make you choleric , and purchase me another dry basting .

Well , sir , learn to jest in good time : there's a time for all things .

I durst have denied that , before you were so choleric .

By what rule , sir ?

Marry , sir , by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of Father Time himself .

Let's hear it .

There's no time for a man to recover his hair that grows bald by nature .

May he not do it by fine and recovery ?

Yes , to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the lost hair of another man .

Why is Time such a niggard of hair , being , as it is , so plentiful an excrement ?

Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts : and what he hath scanted men in hair , he hath given them in wit .

Why , but there's many a man hath more hair than wit .

Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair .

Why , thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit .

The plainer dealer , the sooner lost : yet be loseth it in a kind of jollity .

For what reason ?

For two ; and sound ones too .

Nay , not sound , I pray you .

Sure ones then .

Nay , not sure , in a thing falsing .

Certain ones , then .

Name them .

The one , to save the money that he spends in tiring ; the other , that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge .

You would all this time have proved there is no time for all things .

Marry , and did , sir ; namely , no time to recover hair lost by nature .

But your reason was not substantial , why there is not time to recover .

Thus I mend it : Time himself is bald , and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers .

I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion .
But soft ! who wafts us yonder ?


Ay , ay , Antipholus , look strange , and frown :
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects ,
I am not Adriana , nor thy wife .
The time was once when thou unurg'd wouldst vow 
That never words were music to thine ear ,
That never object pleasing in thine eye ,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand ,
That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste ,
Unless I spake , or look'd , or touch'd , or carv'd to thee .
How comes it now , my husband , O ! how comes it ,
That thou art thus estranged from thyself ?
Thyself I call it , being strange to me ,
That , undividable , incorporate ,
Am better than thy dear self's better part .
Ah ! do not tear away thyself from me ,
For know , my love , as easy mayst thou fall 
A drop of water in the breaking gulf ,
And take unmingled thence that drop again ,
Without addition or diminishing ,
As take from me thyself and not me too .
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick ,
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious ,
And that this body , consecrate to thee ,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate !
Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me ,
And hurl the name of husband in my face ,
And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow ,
And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring 
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow ?
I know thou canst ; and therefore , see thou do it .
I am possess'd with an adulterate blot ;
My blood is mingled with the crime of lust :
For if we two be one and thou play false ,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh ,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion .
Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed ;
I live unstain'd , thou undishonoured .

Plead you to me , fair dame ? I know you not :
In Ephesus I am but two hours old ,
As strange unto your town as to your talk ;
Who , every word by all my wit being scann'd ,
Want wit in all one word to understand .

Fie , brother : how the world is chang'd with you !
When were you wont to use my sister thus ?
She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner .

By Dromio ?

By me ?

By thee ; and this thou didst return from him ,
That he did buffet thee , and in his blows ,
Denied my house for his , me for his wife .

Did you converse , sir , with this gentle-woman ?
What is the course and drift of your compact ?

I , sir ? I never saw her till this time .

Villain , thou liest ; for even her very words 
Didst thou deliver to me on the mart .

I never spake with her in all my life .

How can she thus then , call us by our names ,
Unless it be by inspiration ?

How ill agrees it with your gravity 
To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave ,
A betting him to thwart me in my mood !
Be it my wrong you are from me exempt ,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt .
Come , I will fasten on this sleeve of thine ;
Thou art an elm , my husband , I a vine ,
Whose weakness , married to thy stronger state ,
Makes me with thy strength to communicate :
If aught possess thee from me , it is dross ,
Usurping ivy , brier , or idle moss ;
Who , all for want of pruning , with intrusion 
Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion .

To me she speaks ; she moves me for her theme !
What ! was I married to her in my dream ?
Or sleep I now and think I hear all this ?
What error drives our eyes and ears amiss ?
Until I know this sure uncertainty ,
I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy .

Dromio , go bid the servants spread for dinner 

O , for my beads ! I cross me for a sinner .
This is the fairy land : O ! spite of spites .
We talk with goblins , owls , and elvish sprites :
If we obey them not , this will ensue ,
They'll suck our breath , or pinch us black and blue .

Why prat'st thou to thyself and answer'st not ?
Dromio , thou drone , thou snail , thou slug , thou sot !

I am transformed , master , am not I ?

I think thou art , in mind , and so am I .

Nay , master , both in mind and in my shape .

Thou hast thine own form .

No , I am an ape .

If thou art chang'd to aught , 'tis to an ass .

'Tis true ; she rides me and I long for grass .
'Tis so , I am an ass ; else it could never be 
But I should know her as well as she knows me .

Come , come ; no longer will I be a fool ,
To put the finger in the eye and weep ,
Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn .
Come , sir , to dinner . Dromio , keep the gate .
Husband , I'll dine above with you to-day ,
And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks .
Sirrah , if any ask you for your master ,
Say he dines forth , and let no creature enter .
Come , sister . Dromio , play the porter well .

Am I in earth , in heaven , or in hell ?
Sleeping or waking ? mad or well-advis'd ?
Known unto these , and to myself disguis'd !
I'll say as they say , and persever so ,
And in this mist at all adventures go .

Master , shall I be porter at the gate ?

Ay ; and let none enter , lest I break your pate .

Come , come , Antipholus ; we dine too late .

Good Signior Angelo , you must excuse us all ;
My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours ;
Say that I linger'd with you at your shop 
To see the making of her carkanet ,
And that to-morrow you will bring it home .
But here's a villain , that would face me down 
He met me on the mart , and that I beat him ,
And charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold ,
And that I did deny my wife and house .
Thou drunkard , thou , what didst thou mean by this ?

Say what you will , sir , but I know what I know ;
That you beat me at the mart , I have your hand to show :
If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink ,
Your own handwriting would tell you what I think .

I think thou art an ass .

Marry , so it doth appear 
By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear .
I should kick , being kick'd ; and , being at that pass ,
You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass .

You are sad , Signior Balthazar : pray God , our cheer 
May answer my good will and your good welcome here .

I hold your dainties cheap , sir , and your welcome dear .

O , Signior Balthazar , either at flesh or fish ,
A table-full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish .

Good meat , sir , is common ; that every churl affords .

And welcome more common , for that's nothing but words .

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast .

Ay , to a niggardly host and more sparing guest :
But though my cates be mean , take them in good part ;
Better cheer may you have , but not with better heart .
But soft ! my door is lock'd . Go bid them let us in .

Maud , Bridget , Marian , Cicely , Gillian , Ginn !

Mome , malt-horse , capon , coxcomb , idiot , patch !
Either get thee from the door or sit down at the hatch .
Dost thou conjure for wenches , that thou call'st for such store ,
When one is one too many ? Go , get thee from the door .

What patch is made our porter ?My master stays in the street .

Let him walk from whence he came , lest he catch cold on's feet .

Who talks within there ? ho ! open the door .

Right , sir ; I'll tell you when , an you'll tell me wherefore .

Wherefore ? for my dinner : I have not din'd to-day .

Nor to-day here you must not ; come again when you may .

What art thou that keep'st me out from the house I owe ?

The porter for this time , sir , and my name is Dromio .

O villain ! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name :
The one ne'er got me credit , the other mickle blame .
If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place ,
Thou wouldst have chang'd thy face for a name , or thy name for an ass .

What a coil is there , Dromio ! who are those at the gate ?

Let my master in , Luce .

Faith , no ; he comes too late ;
And so tell your master .

O Lord ! I must laugh .
Have at you with a proverb : Shall I set in my staff ?

Have at you with another : that's when ? can you tell ?

If thy name be call'd Luce ,Luce , thou hast answer'd him well .

Do you hear , you minion ? you'll let us in , I trow ?

I thought to have ask'd you .

And you said , no .

So come , help : well struck ! there was blow for blow .

Thou baggage , let me in .

Can you tell for whose sake ?

Master , knock the door hard .

Let him knock till it ache .

You'll cry for this , minion , if I beat the door down .

What needs all that , and a pair of stocks in the town ?

Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise ?

By my troth your town is troubled with unruly boys .

Are you there , wife ? you might have come before .

Your wife , sir knave ! go , get you from the door .

If you went in pain , master , this 'knave' would go sore .

Here is neither cheer , sir , nor welcome : we would fain have either .

In debating which was best , we shall part with neither .

They stand at the door , master : bid them welcome hither .

There is something in the wind , that we cannot get in .

You would say so , master , if your garments were thin .
Your cake here is warm within ; you stand here in the cold :
It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought and sold .

Go fetch me something : I'll break ope the gate .

Break any breaking here , and I'll break your knave's pate .

A man may break a word with you , sir , and words are but wind :
Ay , and break it in your face , so he break it not behind .

It seems thou wantest breaking : out upon thee , hind !

Here's too much 'out upon thee !' I pray thee , let me in .

Ay , when fowls have no feathers , and fish have no fin .

Well , I'll break in . Go borrow me a crow .

A crow without feather ? Master , mean you so ?
For a fish without a fin , there's a fowl without a feather :
If a crow help us in , sirrah , we'll pluck a crow together .

Go get thee gone : fetch me an iron crow .

Have patience , sir ; O ! let it not be so ;
Herein you war against your reputation ,
And draw within the compass of suspect 
The unviolated honour of your wife .
Once this ,your long experience of her wisdom ,
Her sober virtue , years , and modesty ,
Plead on her part some cause to you unknown ;
And doubt not , sir , but she will well excuse 
Why at this time the doors are made against you .
Be rul'd by me : depart in patience ,
And let us to the Tiger all to dinner ;
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 of it ,
And that supposed by the common rout 
Against your yet ungalled estimation ,
That may with foul intrusion enter in 
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead ;
For slander lives upon succession ,
For ever housed where it gets possession .

You have prevail'd : I will depart in quiet ,
And , in despite 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 Porpentine ;
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 .

I'll meet you at that place some hour hence .

Do so . This jest shall cost me some expense .


And may it be that you have quite forgot A husband's office ? Shall , Antipholus ,
Even in the spring of love , thy love-springs rot ?
Shall love , in building , grow so ruinous ?
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 ;
Muffle your false love with some show of blindness ;
Let 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 vain ,
When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife .

Sweet mistress ,what your name is else , I know not ,
Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine ,
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 god ? would you create 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 flood of tears :
Sing , siren , for thyself , and I will dote :
Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs ,
And as a bed I'll take them and there lie ;
And , in that glorious supposition think 
He gains by death that hath such means to die :
Let Love , being light , be drowned if she sink !

What ! are you mad , that you do reason so ?

Not mad , but mated ; how , I do not know .

It is a fault that springeth from your eye .

For gazing on your beams ; fair sun , being by .

Gaze where you should , and that will clear your sight .

As good to wink , sweet love , as look on night .

Why call you me love ? call my sister so .

Thy sister's sister .

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 ;
My food , my fortune , and my sweet hope's aim ,
My sole earth's heaven , and my heaven's claim .

All this my sister is , or else should be .

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 .

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

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

Do you know me , sir ? am I Dromio ? am I your man ? am I myself ?

Thou art Dromio , thou art my man , thou art thyself .

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

What woman's man ? and how besides thyself ?

Marry , sir , besides myself , I am due to a woman ; one that claims me , one that haunts me , one that will have me .

What claim lays she to thee ?

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 .

What is she ?

A very reverent body ; aye , 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 wondrous fat marriage .

How dost thou mean a fat marriage ?

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 .

What complexion is she of ?

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 .

That's a fault that water will mend .

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

What's her name ?

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

Then she bears some breadth ?

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

In what part of her body stands Ireland ?

Marry , sir , in her buttocks : I found it out by the bogs .

Where Scotland ?

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

Where France ?

In her forehead ; armed and reverted , making war against her heir .

Where England ?

I looked 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 .

Where Spain ?

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

Where America , the Indies ?

O , sir ! upon her nose , all o'er embellished with rubies , carbuncles , sapphires , declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain , who sent whole armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose .

Where stood Belgia , the Netherlands ?

O , sir ! I did not look so low . To conclude , this drudge , or diviner , laid claim to me ; call'd me Dromio ; swore I was assured to her ; told me what privy marks I had about me , as the mark of my shoulder , the mole in my neck , the great wart on my left arm , that I , amazed , 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' the wheel .

Go hie thee presently post to the road :
An 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 .

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


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 .


Master Antipholus !

Ay , that's my name .

I know it well , sir : lo , here is the chain .
I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine ;
The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long .

What is your will that I shall do with this ?

What please yourself , sir : I have made it for you .

Made it for me , sir ! I bespoke it not 

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 .

I pray you , sir , receive the money now ,
For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more .

You are a merry man , sir : fare you well .


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 .

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 guilders for my voyage :
Therefore make present satisfaction ,
Or I'll attach you by this officer .

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


That labour may you save : see where he comes .

While I go to the goldsmith's house , go thou 
And buy a rope's end , that I will 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 .

I buy a thousand pound a year : I buy a rope !


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 .

Saving your merry humour , here's the note 
How much your chain weighs to the utmost carat .
The fineness of the gold , and chargeful fashion ,
Which doth 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 .

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 my wife 
Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof :
Perchance I will be there as soon as you .

Then , you will bring the chain to her yourself ?

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

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

An if I have not , sir , I hope you have ,
Or else you may return without your money .

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 .

Good Lord ! you use this dalliance to excuse 
Your breach of promise to the Porpentine .
I should have child you for not bringing it ,
But , like a shrew , you first begin to brawl .

The hour steals on ; I pray you , sir , dispatch .

You hear how he importunes me : the chain !

Why , give it to my wife and fetch your money .

Come , come ; you know I gave it you even now .
Either send the chain or send by me some token .

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

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 .

I answer you ! what should I answer you ?

The money that you owe me for the chain .

I owe you none till I receive the chain .

You know I gave it you half an hour since .

You gave me none : you wrong me much to say so .

You wrong me more , sir , in denying it :
Consider how it stands upon my credit .

Well , officer , arrest him at my suit .

I do ;
And charge you in the duke's name to obey me .

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

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

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

I do arrest you , sir : you hear the suit .

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 .

Sir , sir , I shall have law in Ephesus ,
To your notorious shame , I doubt it not .


Master , there is a bark of Epidamnum 
That stays but till her owner comes aboard ,
And then she bears away . Our fraughtage , sir ,
I have convey'd aboard , and I have bought 
The oil , the balsamum , and aqua-vit .
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 .

How now ! a madman ! Why , thou peevish sheep ,
What ship of Epidamnum stays for me ?

A ship you sent me to , to hire waftage .

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

You sent me for a rope's end as soon :
You sent me to the bay , sir , for a bark .

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 .


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 , although against my will ,
For servants must their masters' minds fulfil .


Ah ! Luciana , did he tempt thee so ?
Mights 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 meteors tilting in his face ?

First he denied you had in him no right .

He meant he did me none ; the more my spite .

Then swore he that he was a stranger here .

And true he swore , though yet forsworn he were .

Then pleaded I for you .

And what said he ?

That love I begg'd for you he begg'd of me .

With what persuasion did he tempt thy love ?

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

Didst speak him fair ?

Have patience , I beseech .

I cannot , nor I will not hold me still :
My tongue , though not my heart , shall have his will .
He is deformed , crooked , old and sere ,
Ill-fac'd , worse bodied , shapeless every where :
Vicious , ungentle , foolish , blunt , unkind ,
Stigmatical in making , worse in mind .

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

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 , though my tongue do curse .


Here , go : the desk ! the purse ! sweet , now , make haste .

How hast thou lost thy breath ?

By running fast .

Where is thy master , Dromio ? is he well ?

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 fairy , pitiless and rough ;
A wolf , nay , worse , a fellow all in buff ;
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 dryfoot well ;
One that , before the judgment , carries poor souls to hell .

Why , man , what is the matter ?

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

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

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 ?

Go fetch it , sister .

This I wonder at :
That he , unknown to me , should be in debt :
Tell me , was he arrested on a band ?

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

What , the chain ?

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

The hours come back ! that did I never hear .

O yes ; if any hour meet a sergeant , a' turns back for very fear .

As if Time were in debt ! how fondly dost thou reason !

Time is a very bankrupt , 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 sergeant in the way ,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day ?


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


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 money to me ; some invite me ;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses ;
Some offer me commodities to buy :
Even now a tailor 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 .


Master , here's the gold you sent me for .
What ! have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled ?

What gold is this ? What Adam dost thou mean ?

Not that Adam that kept the Paradise , but that Adam that keeps the prison : he that goes in the calf's skin that was killed for the Prodigal : he that came behind you , sir , like an evil angel , and bid you forsake your liberty .

I understand thee not .

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 decayed men and gives them suits of durance ; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a morris-pike .

What , thou meanest an officer ?

Ay , sir , the sergeant of the band ; he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band ; one that thinks a man always going to bed , and says , 'God give you good rest !' 

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

Why , sir , I brought you word an hour since that the bark Expedition put forth to-night ; and then were you hindered by the sergeant to tarry for the hoy Delay . Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you .

The fellow is distract , and so am I ;
And here we wander in illusions :
Some blessed power deliver us from hence !


Well met , well met , Master Antipholus .
I see , sir , you have found the goldsmith now :
Is that the chain you promis'd me to-day ?

Satan , avoid ! I charge thee tempt me not !

Master , is this Mistress Satan ?

It is the devil .

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

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

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

Why , Dromio ?

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

Avoid thee , 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 .

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 .

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 .

I pray you , sir , my ring , or else the chain :
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so .

Avaunt , thou witch ! Come , Dromio , let us go .

'Fly pride ,' says the peacock : mistress , that you know .


Now , out of doubt , Antipholus 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 doors 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 lunatic ,
He rush'd into my house , and took perforce 
My ring away . This course I fittest choose ,
For forty ducats is too much to lose .


Fear me not , man ; I will not break away :
I'll give thee , ere I leave thee , so much money ,
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 , 'twill sound harshly in her ears .


Here comes my man : I think he brings the money .

How now , sir ! have you that I sent you for ?

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

But where's the money ?

Why , sir , I gave the money for the rope .

Five hundred ducats , villain , for a rope ?

I'll serve you , sir , five hundred at the rate .

To what end did I bid thee hie thee home ?

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

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


Good sir , be patient .

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

Good now , hold thy tongue .

Nay , rather persuade him to hold his hands .

Thou whoreson , senseless villain !

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

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

I am an ass indeed ; you may prove it by my long ears . I have served 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 waked with it when I sleep ; raised with it when I sit ; driven out of doors with it when I go from home ; welcomed 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 lamed me , I shall beg with it from door to door .

Come , go along ; my wife is coming yonder .


Mistress , respice finem , respect your end ; or rather , to prophesy like the parrot , 'Beware the rope's end .' 

Wilt thou still talk ?


How say you now ? is not your husband mad ?

His incivility confirms no less .
Good Doctor Pinch , you are a conjurer ;
Establish him in his true sense again ,
And I will please you what you will demand .

Alas ! how fiery and how sharp he looks .

Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy !

Give me your hand and let me feel your pulse .

There is my hand , and let it feel your ear .


I charge thee , Satan , hous'd within this man ,
To yield possession to my holy prayers ,
And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight :
I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven .

Peace , doting wizard , peace ! I am not mad .

O ! that thou wert not , poor distressed soul !

You minion , you , are these your customers ?
Did this companion with the saffron face 
Revel and feast it at my house to-day ,
Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut 
And I denied to enter in my house ?

O husband , God doth know you din'd at home ;
Where would you had remain'd until this time .
Free from these slanders and this open shame !

Din'd at home ! Thou villain , what say'st thou ?

Sir , sooth to say , you did not dine at home .

Were not my doors lock'd up and I shut out ?

Perdy , your doors were lock'd and you shut out .

And did not she herself revile me there ?

Sans fable , she herself revil'd you there .

Did not her kitchen-maid rail , taunt , and scorn me ?

Certes , she did ; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd you .

And did not I in rage depart from thence ?

In verity you did : my bones bear witness ,
That since have felt the vigour of his rage .

Is't good to soothe him in these contraries ?

It is no shame : the fellow finds his vein ,
And , yielding to him humours well his frenzy .

Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to arrest me .

Alas ! I sent you money to redeem you ,
By Dromio here , who came in haste for it .

Money by me ! heart and good will you might ;
But surely , master , not a rag of money .

Went'st not thou to her for a purse of ducats ?

He came to me , and I deliver'd it .

And I am witness with her that she did .

God and the rope-maker bear me witness 
That I was sent for nothing but a rope !

Mistress , both man and master is possess'd :
I know it by their pale and deadly looks .
They must be bound and laid in some dark room .

Say , wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day ?
And why dost thou deny the bag of gold ?

I did not , gentle husband , lock thee forth .

And , gentle master , I receiv'd no gold ;
But I confess , sir , that we were lock'd out .

Dissembling villain ! thou speak'st false in both .

Dissembling harlot ! thou art false in all ;
And art confederate with a damned pack 
To make a loathsome abject scorn of me ;
But with these nails I'll pluck out those false eyes 
That would behold in me this shameful sport .

O ! bind him , bind him , let him not come near me .

More company ! the fiend is strong within him .

Ay me ! poor man , how pale and wan he looks !


What , will you murder me ? Thou gaoler , thou ,
I am thy prisoner : wilt thou suffer them 
To make a rescue ?

Masters , let him go :
He is my prisoner , and you shall not have him .

Go bind this man , for he is frantic too .


What wilt thou do , thou peevish officer ?
Hast thou delight to see a wretched man 
Do outrage and displeasure to himself ?

He is my prisoner : if I let him go ,
The debt he owes will be requir'd of me .

I will discharge thee ere I go from thee :
Bear me forthwith unto his creditor ,
And , knowing how the debt grows , I will pay it .
Good Master doctor , see him safe convey'd 
Home to my house . O most unhappy day !

O most unhappy strumpet !

Master , I am here enter'd in bond for you .

Out on thee , villain ! wherefore dost thou mad me ?

Will you be bound for nothing ? be mad , good master ; cry , 'the devil !' 

God help , poor souls ! how idly do they talk .

Go bear him hence . Sister , go you with me .

Say now , whose suit is he arrested at ?

One Angelo , a goldsmith ; do you know him ?

I know the man . What is the sum he owes ?

Two hundred ducats .

Say , how grows it due ?

Due for a chain your husband had of him .

He did bespeak a chain for me , but had it not .

When as your husband all in rage , to-day 
Came to my house , and took away my ring ,
The ring I saw upon his finger now ,
Straight after did I meet him with a chain .

It may be so , but I did never see it .
Come , gaoler , bring me where the goldsmith is :
I long to know the truth hereof at large .


God , for thy mercy ! they are loose again .

And come with naked swords . Let's call more help 
To have them bound again .

Away ! they'll kill us .


I see , these witches are afraid of swords .

She that would be your wife now ran from you .

Come to the Centaur ; fetch our stuff from thence :
I long that we were safe and sound aboard .

Faith , stay here this night , they will surely do us no harm ; you saw they speak us fair , give us gold : methinks they are such a gentle nation , that , but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me , I could find in my heart to stay here still , and turn witch .

I will not stay to-night for all the town ;
Therefore away , to get our stuff aboard .

I am sorry , sir , that I have hinder'd you ;
But , I protest , he had the chain of me ,
Though most dishonestly he doth deny it .

How is the man esteem'd here in the city ?

Of very reverend reputation , sir ,
Of credit infinite , highly belov'd ,
Second to none that lives here in the city :
His word might bear my wealth at any time .

Speak softly : yonder , as I think , he walks .


'Tis so ; and that self chain about his neck 
Which he forswore most monstrously to have .
Good sir , draw near to me , I'll speak to him .
Signior Antipholus , I wonder much 
That you would put me to this shame and trouble ;
And not without some scandal to yourself ,
With circumstance and oaths so to deny 
This chain which now you wear so openly :
Beside the charge , the shame , imprisonment ,
You have done wrong to this my honest friend ,
Who , but for staying on our controversy ,
Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day .
This chain you had of me ; can you deny it ?

I think I had : I never did deny it .

Yes , that you did , sir , and forswore it too .

Who heard me to deny it or forswear it ?

These ears of mine , thou know'st , did hear thee .
Fie on thee , wretch ! 'tis pity that thou liv'st 
To walk where any honest men resort .

Thou art a villain to impeach me thus :
I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty 
Against thee presently , if thou dar'st stand .

I dare , and do defy thee for a villain .

Hold ! hurt him not , for God's sake ! he is mad .
Some get within him , take his sword away .
Bind Dromio too , and bear them to my house .

Run , master , run ; for God's sake , take a house !
This is some priory : in , or we are spoil'd .

Be quiet , people . Wherefore throng you hither ?

To fetch my poor distracted husband hence .
Let us come in , that we may bind him fast ,
And bear him home for his recovery .

I knew he was not in his perfect wits .

I am sorry now that I did draw on him .

How long hath this possession held the man ?

This week he hath been heavy , sour , sad ,
And much different from the man he was ;
But , till this afternoon his passion 
Ne'er brake into extremity of rage .

Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack of sea ?
Buried some dear friend ? Hath not else his eye 
Stray'd his affection in unlawful love ?
A sin prevailing much in youthful men ,
Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing .
Which of these sorrows is he subject to ?

To none of these , except it be the last ;
Namely , some love that drew him oft from home .

You should for that have reprehended him .

Why , so I did .

Ay , but not rough enough .

As roughly as my modesty would let me .

Haply , in private .

And in assemblies too .

Ay , but not enough .

It was the copy of our conference :
In bed , he slept not for my urging it ;
At board , he fed not for my urging it ;
Alone , it was the subject of my theme ;
In company I often glanced it :
Still did I tell him it was vile and bad .

And thereof came it that the man was mad :
The venom clamours of a jealous woman 
Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth .
It seems , his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing ,
And thereof comes it that his head is light .
Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings :
Unquiet meals make ill digestions ;
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred :
And what's a fever but a fit of madness ?
Thou say'st his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls :
Sweet recreation barr'd , what doth ensue 
But moody moping , and dull melancholy ,
Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair ,
And at her heels a huge infectious troop 
Of pale distemperatures and foes to life ?
In food , in sport , and life-preserving rest 
To be disturb'd , would mad or man or beast :
The consequence is then , thy jealous fits 
Have scar'd thy husband from the use of wits .

She never reprehended him but mildly 
When he demean'd himself rough , rude , and wildly .
Why bear you these rebukes and answer not ?

She did betray me to my own reproof .
Good people , enter , and lay hold on him .

No ; not a creature enters in my house .

Then , let your servants bring my husband forth .

Neither : he took this place for sanctuary ,
And it shall privilege him from your hands 
Till I have brought him to his wits again ,
Or lose my labour in assaying it .

I will attend my husband , be his nurse ,
Diet his sickness , for it is my office ,
And will have no attorney but myself ;
And therefore let me have him home with me .

Be patient ; for I will not let him stir 
Till I have us'd the approved means I have ,
With wholesome syrups , drugs , and holy prayers ,
To make of him a formal man again .
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath ,
A charitable duty of my order ;
Therefore depart and leave him here with me .

I will not hence and leave my husband here ;
And ill it doth beseem your holiness 
To separate the husband and the wife .

Be quiet , and depart : thou shalt not have him .


Complain unto the duke of this indignity .

Come , go : I will fall prostrate at his feet ,
And never rise until my tears and prayers 
Have won his Grace to come in person hither ,
And take perforce my husband from the abbess .

By this , I think , the dial points at five :
Anon , I'm sure , the duke himself in person 
Comes this way to the melancholy vale ,
The place of death and sorry execution ,
Behind the ditches of the abbey here .

Upon what cause ?

To see a reverend Syracusian merchant ,
Who put unluckily into this bay 
Against the laws and statutes of this town ,
Beheaded publicly for his offence .

See where they come : we will behold his death .

Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey .


Yet once again proclaim it publicly ,
If any friend will pay the sum for him ,
He shall not die ; so much we tender him .

Justice , most sacred duke , against the abbess !

She is a virtuous and a reverend lady :
It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong .

May it please your Grace , Antipholus , my husband ,
Whom I made lord of me and all I had ,
At your important letters , this ill day 
A most outrageous fit of madness took him ,
That desperately he hurried through the street ,
With him his bondman , all as mad as he ,
Doing displeasure to the citizens 
By rushing in their houses , bearing thence 
Rings , jewels , anything his rage did like .
Once did I get him bound and sent him home ,
Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went 
That here and there his fury had committed .
Anon , I wot not by what strong escape ,
He broke from those that had the guard of him ,
And with his mad attendant and himself ,
Each one with ireful passion , with drawn swords 
Met us again , and , madly bent on us 
Chas'd us away , till , raising of more aid 
We came again to bind them . Then they fled 
Into this abbey , whither we pursu'd them ;
And here the abbess shuts the gates on us ,
And will not suffer us to fetch him out ,
Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence .
Therefore , most gracious duke , with thy command 
Let him be brought forth , and borne hence for help .

Long since thy husband serv'd me in my wars ,
And I to thee engag'd a prince's word ,
When thou didst make him master of thy bed ,
To do him all the grace and good I could .
Go , some of you , knock at the abbey gate 
And bid the lady abbess come to me .
I will determine this before I stir .


O mistress , mistress ! shift and save yourself !
My master and his man are both broke loose ,
Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor ,
Whose beard they have sing'd off with brands of fire ;
And ever as it blaz'd they threw on him 
Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair .
My master preaches patience to him , and the while 
His man with scissors nicks him like a fool ;
And sure , unless you send some present help ,
Between them they will kill the conjurer .

Peace , fool ! thy master and his man are here ,
And that is false thou dost report to us .

Mistress , upon my life , I tell you true ;
I have not breath'd almost , since I did see it .
He cries for you and vows , if he can take you ,
To scotch your face , and to disfigure you .

Hark , hark ! I hear him , mistress : fly , be gone !

Come , stand by me ; fear nothing . Guard with halberds !

Ay me , it is my husband ! Witness you ,
That he is borne about invisible :
Even now we hous'd him in the abbey here ,
And now he's here , past thought of human reason .


Justice , most gracious duke ! O ! grant me justice ,
Even for the service that long since I did thee ,
When I bestrid thee in the wars and took 
Deep scars to save thy life ; even for the blood 
That then I lost for thee , now grant me justice .

Unless the fear of death doth make me dote ,
I see my son Antipholus and Dromio !

Justice , sweet prince , against that woman there !
She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife ,
That hath abused and dishonour'd me ,
Even in the strength and height of injury !
Beyond imagination is the wrong 
That she this day hath shameless thrown on me .

Discover how , and thou shalt find me just .

This day , great duke , she shut the doors upon me ,
While she with harlots feasted in my house .

A grievous fault ! Say , woman , didst thou so ?

No , my good lord : myself , he , and my sister 
To-day did dine together . So befall my soul 
As this is false he burdens me withal !

Ne'er may I look on day , nor sleep on night ,
But she tells to your highness simple truth !

O perjur'd woman ! They are both forsworn :
In this the madman justly chargeth them !

My liege , I am advised what I say :
Neither disturb'd with the effect of wine ,
Nor heady-rash , provok'd with raging ire ,
Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad .
This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner :
That goldsmith there , were he not pack'd with her ,
Could witness it , for he was with me then ;
Who parted with me to go fetch a chain ,
Promising to bring it to the Porpentine ,
Where Balthazar and I did dine together .
Our dinner done , and he not coming thither ,
I went to seek him : in the street I met him ,
And in his company that gentleman .
There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down 
That I this day of him receiv'd the chain ,
Which , God he knows , I saw not ; for the which 
He did arrest me with an officer .
I did obey , and sent my peasant home 
For certain ducats : he with none return'd .
Then fairly I bespoke the officer 
To go in person with me to my house .
By the way we met 
My wife , her sister , and a rabble more 
Of vile confederates : along with them 
They brought one Pinch , a hungry lean-fac'd villain ,
A mere anatomy , a mountebank ,
A threadbare juggler , and a fortune-teller ,
A needy , hollow-ey'd , sharp-looking wretch ,
A living-dead man . This pernicious slave ,
Forsooth , took on him as a conjurer ,
And , gazing in mine eyes , feeling my pulse ,
And with no face , as 'twere , out-facing me ,
Cries out , I was possess'd . Then , altogether 
They fell upon me , bound me , bore me thence ,
And in a dark and dankish vault at home 
There left me and my man , both bound together ;
Till , gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder ,
I gain'd my freedom , and immediately 
Ran hither to your Grace ; whom I beseech 
To give me ample satisfaction 
For these deep shames and great indignities .

My lord , in truth , thus far I witness with him ,
That he din'd not at home , but was lock'd out .

But had he such a chain of thee , or no ?

He had , my lord ; and when he ran in here ,
These people saw the chain about his neck .

Besides , I will be sworn these ears of mine 
Heard you confess you had the chain of him 
After you first forswore it on the mart ;
And thereupon I drew my sword on you ;
And then you fled into this abbey here ,
From whence , I think , you are come by miracle .

I never came within these abbey walls ;
Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me ;
I never saw the chain , so help me heaven !
And this is false you burden me withal .

Why , what an intricate impeach is this !
I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup .
If here you hous'd him , here he would have been ;
If he were mad , he would not plead so coldly ;
You say he din'd at home ; the goldsmith here 
Denies that saying . Sirrah , what say you ?

Sir , he din'd with her there , at the Porpentine .

He did , and from my finger snatch'd that ring .

'Tis true , my liege ; this ring I had of her .

Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here ?

As sure , my liege , as I do see your Grace .

Why , this is strange . Go call the abbess hither .

I think you are all mated or stark mad .

Most mighty duke , vouchsafe me speak a word :
Haply I see a friend will save my life ,
And pay the sum that may deliver me .

Speak freely , Syracusian , what thou wilt .

Is not your name , sir , called Antipholus ?
And is not that your bondman Dromio ?

Within this hour I was his bondman , sir ;
But he , I thank him , gnaw'd in two my cords :
Now am I Dromio and his man , unbound .

I am sure you both of you remember me .

Ourselves we do remember , sir , by you ;
For lately we were bound , as you are now .
You are not Pinch's patient , are you , sir ?

Why look you strange on me ? you know me well .

I never saw you in my life till now .

O ! grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last ,
And careful hours , with Time's deformed hand ,
Have written strange defeatures in my face :
But tell me yet , dost thou not know my voice ?

Neither .

Dromio , nor thou ?

No , trust me , sir , not I .

I am sure thou dost .

Ay , sir ; but I am sure I do not ; and whatsoever a man denies , you are now bound to believe him .

Not know my voice ! O , time's extremity ,
Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue 
In seven short years , that here my only son 
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares ?
Though now this grained face of mine be hid 
In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow ,
And all the conduits of my blood froze up ,
Yet hath my night of life some memory ,
My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left ,
My dull deaf ears a little use to hear :
All these old witnesses , I cannot err ,
Tell me thou art my son Antipholus .

I never saw my father in my life .

But seven years since , in Syracusa , boy ,
Thou know'st we parted : but perhaps , my son ,
Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery .

The duke and all that know me in the city 
Can witness with me that it is not so :
I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life .

I tell thee , Syracusian , twenty years 
Have I been patron to Antipholus ,
During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa .
I see thy age and dangers make thee dote .


Most mighty duke , behold a man much wrong'd .


I see two husbands , or mine eyes deceive me !

One of these men is Genius to the other ;
And so of these : which is the natural man ,
And which the spirit ? Who deciphers them ?

I , sir , am Dromio : command him away .

I , sir , am Dromio : pray let me stay .

geon art thou not ? or else his ghost ?

O ! my old master ; who hath bound him here ?

Whoever bound him , I will loose his bonds ,
And gain a husband by his liberty .
Speak , old  geon , if thou be'st the man 
That hadst a wife once call'd  milia ,
That bore thee at a burden two fair sons .
O ! if thou be'st the same  geon , speak ,
And speak unto the same  milia !

If I dream not , thou art  milia :
If thou art she , tell me where is that son 
That floated with thee on the fatal raft ?

By men of Epidamnum , he and I ,
And the twin Dromio , all were taken up :
But by and by rude fishermen of Corinth 
By force took Dromio and my son from them ,
And me they left with those of Epidamnum .
What then became of them , I cannot tell ;
I to this fortune that you see me in .

Why , here begins his morning story right :
These two Antipholus' , these two so like ,
And these two Dromios , one in semblance ,
Besides her urging of her wrack at sea ;
These are the parents to these children ,
Which accidentally are met together .
Antipholus , thou cam'st from Corinth first ?

No , sir , not I ; I came from Syracuse .

Stay , stand apart ; I know not which is which .

I came from Corinth , my most gracious lord ,

And I with him .

Brought to this town by that most famous warrior ,
Duke Menaphon , your most renowned uncle .

Which of you two did dine with me to-day ?

I , gentle mistress .

And are not you my husband ?

No ; I say nay to that .

And so do I ; yet did she call me so ;
And this fair gentlewoman , her sister here ,
Did call me brother .

What I told you then ,
I hope I shall have leisure to make good ,
If this be not a dream I see and hear .

That is the chain , sir , which you had of me .

I think it be , sir ; I deny it not .

And you , sir , for this chain arrested me .

I think I did , sir ; I deny it not .

I sent you money , sir , to be your bail ,
By Dromio ; but I think he brought it not .

No , none by me .

This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you ,
And Dromio , my man , did bring them me .
I see we still did meet each other's man ,
And I was ta'en for him , and he for me ,
And thereupon these errors are arose .

These ducats pawn I for my father here .

It shall not need : thy father hath his life .

Sir , I must have that diamond from you .

There , take it ; and much thanks for my good cheer .

Renowned duke , vouchsafe to take the pains 
To go with us into the abbey here ,
And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes ;
And all that are assembled in this place ,
That by this sympathized one day's error 
Have suffer'd wrong , go keep us company ,
And we shall make full satisfaction .
Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail 
Of you , my sons ; and , till this present hour 
My heavy burdens ne'er delivered .
The duke , my husband , and my children both ,
And you the calendars of their nativity ,
Go to a gossip's feast , and joy with me :
After so long grief such festivity !

With all my heart I'll gossip at this feast .


Master , shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard ?

Dromio , what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd ?

Your goods that lay at host , sir , in the Centaur .

He speaks to me . I am your master , Dromio :
Come , go with us ; we'll look to that anon :
Embrace thy brother there ; rejoice with him .


There is a fat friend at your master's house ,
That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner :
She now shall be my sister , not my wife .

Methinks you are my glass , and not my brother :
I see by you I am a sweet-fac'd youth .
Will you walk in to see their gossiping ?

Not I , sir ; you are my elder .

That's a question : how shall we try it ?

We'll draw cuts for the senior : till then lead thou first .

Nay , then , thus :
We came into the world like brother and brother ;
And now let's go hand in hand , not one before another .