Luci. How manie fond fooles serue mad Ielousie?

Enter.

Enter Antipholis Errotis.

Ant. The gold I gaue to Dromio is laid vp Safe at the Centaur, and the heedfull slaue Is wandred forth in care to seeke me out By computation and mine hosts report. I could not speake with Dromio, since at first I sent him from the Mart? see here he comes.

Enter Dromio Siracusia.

How now sir, is your merrie humor alter'd? As you loue stroakes, so iest with me againe: You know no Centaur? you receiu'd no gold? Your Mistresse sent to haue me home to dinner? My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, That thus so madlie thou did didst answere me? S.Dro. What answer sir? when spake I such a word? E.Ant. Euen now, euen here, not halfe an howre since

S.Dro. I did not see you since you sent me hence Home to the Centaur with the gold you gaue me

Ant. Villaine, thou didst denie the golds receit, And toldst me of a Mistresse, and a dinner, For which I hope thou feltst I was displeas'd

S.Dro. I am glad to see you in this merrie vaine, What meanes this iest, I pray you Master tell me? Ant. Yea, dost thou ieere & flowt me in the teeth? Thinkst y I iest? hold, take thou that, & that.

Beats Dro.

S.Dr. Hold sir, for Gods sake, now your iest is earnest, Vpon what bargaine do you giue it me? Antiph. Because that I familiarlie sometimes Doe vse you for my foole, and chat with you, Your sawcinesse will iest vpon my loue, And make a Common of my serious howres, When the sunne shines, let foolish gnats make sport, But creepe in crannies, when he hides his beames: If you will iest with me, know my aspect, And fashion your demeanor to my lookes, Or I will beat this method in your sconce

S.Dro. Sconce call you it? so you would leaue battering, I had rather haue it a head, and you vse these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and Insconce it to, or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders, but I pray sir, why am I beaten? Ant. Dost thou not know? S.Dro. Nothing sir, but that I am beaten

Ant. Shall I tell you why? S.Dro. I sir, and wherefore; for they say, euery why hath a wherefore

Ant. Why first for flowting me, and then wherefore, for vrging it the second time to me

S.Dro. Was there euer anie man thus beaten out of season, when in the why and the wherefore, is neither rime nor reason. Well sir, I thanke you

Ant. Thanke me sir, for what? S.Dro. Marry sir, for this something that you gaue me for nothing

Ant. Ile make you amends next, to giue you nothing for something. But say sir, is it dinner time? S.Dro. No sir, I thinke the meat wants that I haue

Ant. In good time sir: what's that? S.Dro. Basting

Ant. Well sir, then 'twill be drie

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

Ant. Your reason? S.Dro. Lest it make you chollericke, and purchase me another drie basting

Ant. Well sir, learne to iest in good time, there's a time for all things

S.Dro. I durst haue denied that before you were so chollericke

Anti. By what rule sir? S.Dro. Marry sir, by a rule as plaine as the plaine bald pate of Father time himselfe

Ant. Let's heare it

S.Dro. There's no time for a man to recouer his haire that growes bald by nature

Ant. May he not doe it by fine and recouerie? S.Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a perewig, and recouer the lost haire of another man

Ant. Why, is Time such a niggard of haire, being (as it is) so plentifull an excrement? S.Dro. Because it is a blessing that hee bestowes on beasts, and what he hath scanted them in haire, hee hath giuen them in wit

Ant. Why, but theres manie a man hath more haire then wit

S.Dro. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his haire

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

S.Dro. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he looseth it in a kinde of iollitie

An. For what reason

S.Dro. For two, and sound ones to

An. Nay not sound I pray you

S.Dro. Sure ones then

An. Nay, not sure in a thing falsing

S.Dro. Certaine ones then

An. Name them

S.Dro. The one to saue the money that he spends in trying: the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porrage

An. You would all this time haue prou'd, there is no time for all things

S.Dro. Marry and did sir: namely, in no time to recouer haire lost by Nature

An. But your reason was not substantiall, why there is no time to recouer

S.Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himselfe is bald, and therefore to the worlds end, will haue bald followers

An. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: but soft, who wafts vs yonder.

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adri. I, I, Antipholus, looke strange and frowne, Some other Mistresse hath thy sweet aspects: I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou vn-vrg'd wouldst vow, That neuer words were musicke to thine eare, That neuer obiect pleasing in thine eye, That neuer touch well welcome to thy hand, That neuer meat sweet-sauour'd in thy taste, Vnlesse I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or caru'd to thee. How comes it now, my Husband, oh how comes it, That thou art then estranged from thy selfe? Thy selfe I call it, being strange to me: That vndiuidable Incorporate Am better then thy deere selfes better part. Ah doe not teare away thy selfe from me; For know my loue: as easie maist thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulfe, And take vnmingled thence that drop againe Without addition or diminishing, As take from me thy selfe, and not me too. How deerely would it touch thee to the quicke, Shouldst thou but heare I were licencious? And that this body consecrate to thee, By Ruffian Lust should be contaminate? Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurne at me, And hurle the name of husband in my face, And teare the stain'd skin of my Harlot brow, And from my false hand cut the wedding ring, And breake it with a deepe-diuorcing vow? I know thou canst, and therefore see thou doe it. I am possest with an adulterate blot, My bloud is mingled with the crime of lust: For if we two be one, and thou play false, I doe digest the poison of thy flesh, Being strumpeted by thy contagion: Keepe then faire league and truce with thy true bed, I liue distain'd, thou vndishonoured

Antip. Plead you to me faire dame? I know you not: In Ephesus I am but two houres old, As strange vnto your towne, as to your talke, Who euery word by all my wit being scan'd, Wants wit in all, one word to vnderstand

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

Ant. By Dromio? Drom. By me

Adr. By thee, and this thou didst returne from him. That he did buffet thee, and in his blowes, Denied my house for his, me for his wife

Ant. Did you conuerse sir with this gentlewoman: What is the course and drift of your compact? S.Dro. I sir? I neuer saw her till this time

Ant. Villaine thou liest, for euen her verie words, Didst thou deliuer to me on the Mart

S.Dro. I neuer spake with her in all my life

Ant. How can she thus then call vs by our names? Vnlesse it be by inspiration

Adri. How ill agrees it with your grauitie, To counterfeit thus grosely with your slaue, Abetting him to thwart me in my moode; Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. Come I will fasten on this sleeue of thine: Thou art an Elme my husband, I a Vine: Whose weaknesse married to thy stranger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate: If ought possesse thee from me, it is drosse, Vsurping Iuie, Brier, or idle Mosse, Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion, Infect thy sap, and liue on thy confusion

Ant. To mee shee speakes, shee moues mee for her theame; What, was I married to her in my dreame? Or sleepe I now, and thinke I heare all this? What error driues our eies and eares amisse? Vntill I know this sure vncertaintie, Ile entertaine the free'd fallacie

Luc. Dromio, goe bid the seruants spred for dinner

S.Dro. Oh for my beads, I crosse me for a sinner. This is the Fairie land, oh spight of spights, We talke with Goblins, Owles and Sprights; If we obay them not, this will insue: They'll sucke our breath, or pinch vs blacke and blew

Luc. Why prat'st thou to thy selfe, and answer'st not? Dromio, thou Dromio, thou snaile, thou slug, thou sot

S.Dro. I am transformed Master, am I not? Ant. I thinke thou art in minde, and so am I

S.Dro. Nay Master, both in minde, and in my shape

Ant. Thou hast thine owne forme

S.Dro. No, I am an Ape

Luc. If thou art chang'd to ought, 'tis to an Asse

S.Dro. 'Tis true she rides me, and I long for grasse. 'Tis so, I am an Asse, else it could neuer be, But I should know her as well as she knowes me

Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a foole, To put the finger in the eie and weepe; Whil'st man and Master laughes my woes to scorne: Come sir to dinner, Dromio keepe the gate: Husband Ile dine aboue with you to day, And shriue you of a thousand idle prankes: Sirra, if any aske you for your Master, Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter: Come sister, Dromio play the Porter well

Ant. Am I in earth, in heauen, or in hell? Sleeping or waking, mad or well aduisde: Knowne vnto these, and to my selfe disguisde: Ile say as they say, and perseuer so: And in this mist at all aduentures go

S.Dro. Master, shall I be Porter at the gate? Adr. I, and let none enter, least I breake your pate

Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine to late.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio, Angelo the Goldsmith, and Balthaser the Merchant.

E.Anti. Good signior Angelo you must excuse vs all, My wife is shrewish when I keepe not howres; Say that I lingerd 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 villaine that would face me downe He met me on the Mart, and that I beat him, And charg'd him with a thousand markes in gold, And that I did denie my wife and house; Thou drunkard thou, what didst thou meane by this? E.Dro. Say what you wil sir, but I know what I know, That you beat me at the Mart I haue your hand to show; If y skin were parchment, & y blows you gaue were ink, Your owne hand-writing would tell you what I thinke

E.Ant. I thinke thou art an asse

E.Dro. Marry so it doth appeare By the wrongs I suffer, and the blowes I beare, I should kicke being kickt, and being at that passe, You would keepe from my heeles, and beware of an asse

E.An. Y'are sad signior Balthazar, pray God our cheer May answer my good will, and your good welcom here

Bal. I hold your dainties cheap sir, & your welcom deer

E.An. Oh signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome, makes scarce one dainty dish

Bal. Good meat sir is co[m]mon that euery churle affords

Anti. And welcome more common, for thats nothing but words

Bal. Small cheere and great welcome, makes a merrie feast

Anti. I, to a niggardly Host, and more sparing guest: But though my cates be meane, take them in good part, Better cheere may you haue, but not with better hart. But soft, my doore is lockt; goe bid them let vs in

E.Dro. Maud, Briget, Marian, Cisley, Gillian, Ginn

S.Dro. Mome, Malthorse, Capon, Coxcombe, Idiot, Patch, Either get thee from the dore, or sit downe at the hatch: Dost thou coniure for wenches, that y calst for such store, When one is one too many, goe get thee from the dore

E.Dro. What patch is made our Porter? my Master stayes in the street

S.Dro. Let him walke from whence he came, lest hee catch cold on's feet

E.Ant. Who talks within there? hoa, open the dore

S.Dro. Right sir, Ile tell you when, and you'll tell me wherefore

Ant. Wherefore? for my dinner: I haue not din'd to day

S.Dro. Nor to day here you must not come againe when you may

Anti. What art thou that keep'st mee out from the howse I owe? S.Dro. The Porter for this time Sir, and my name is Dromio

E.Dro. O villaine, thou hast stolne both mine office and my name, The one nere got me credit, the other mickle blame: If thou hadst beene Dromio to day in my place, Thou wouldst haue chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an asse.

Enter Luce.

Luce. What a coile is there Dromio? who are those at the gate? E.Dro. Let my Master in Luce

Luce. Faith no, hee comes too late, and so tell your Master

E.Dro. O Lord I must laugh, haue at you with a Prouerbe, Shall I set in my staffe

Luce. Haue at you with another, that's when? can you tell? S.Dro. If thy name be called Luce, Luce thou hast answer'd him well

Anti. Doe you heare you minion, you'll let vs in I hope? Luce. I thought to haue askt you

S.Dro. And you said no

E.Dro. So come helpe, well strooke, there was blow for blow

Anti. Thou baggage let me in

Luce. Can you tell for whose sake? E.Drom. Master, knocke the doore hard

Luce. Let him knocke till it ake

Anti. You'll crie for this minion, if I beat the doore downe

Luce. What needs all that, and a paire of stocks in the towne?

Enter Adriana.

Adr. Who is that at the doore y keeps all this noise? S.Dro. By my troth your towne is troubled with vnruly boies

Anti. Are you there Wife? you might haue come before

Adri. Your wife sir knaue? go get you from the dore

E.Dro. If you went in paine Master, this knaue wold goe sore

Angelo. Heere is neither cheere sir, nor welcome, we would faine haue either

Baltz. In debating which was best, wee shall part with neither

E.Dro. They stand at the doore, Master, bid them welcome hither

Anti. There is something in the winde, that we cannot get in

E.Dro. You would say so Master, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warme within: you stand here in the cold. It would make a man mad as a Bucke to be so bought and sold

Ant. Go fetch me something, Ile break ope the gate

S.Dro. Breake any breaking here, and Ile breake your knaues pate

E.Dro. A man may breake a word with your sir, and words are but winde: I and breake it in your face, so he break it not behinde

S.Dro. It seemes thou want'st breaking, out vpon thee hinde

E.Dro. Here's too much out vpon thee, I pray thee let me in

S.Dro. I, when fowles haue no feathers, and fish haue no fin

Ant. Well, Ile breake in: go borrow me a crow

E.Dro. A crow without feather, Master meane you so; For a fish without a finne, ther's a fowle without a fether, If a crow help vs in sirra, wee'll plucke a crow together

Ant. Go, get thee gon, fetch me an iron Crow

Balth. Haue patience sir, oh let it not be so, Heerein you warre against your reputation, And draw within the compasse of suspect Th' vnuiolated honor of your wife. Once this your long experience of your wisedome, Her sober vertue, yeares, and modestie, Plead on your part some cause to you vnknowne; And doubt not sir, but she will well excuse Why at this time the dores are made against you. Be rul'd by me, depart in patience, And let vs to the Tyger all to dinner, And about euening come your selfe alone, To know the reason of this strange restraint: If by strong hand you offer to breake in Now in the stirring passage of the day, A vulgar comment will be made of it; And that supposed by the common rowt Against your yet vngalled estimation, That may with foule intrusion enter in, And dwell vpon your graue when you are dead; For slander liues vpon succession: For euer hows'd, where it gets possession

Anti. You haue preuail'd, I will depart in quiet, And in despight of mirth meane to be merrie: I know a wench of excellent discourse, Prettie and wittie; wilde, and yet too gentle; There will we dine: this woman that I meane My wife (but I protest without desert) Hath oftentimes vpbraided me withall: To her will we to dinner, get you home And fetch the chaine, by this I know 'tis made, Bring it I pray you to the Porpentine, For there's the house: That chaine will I bestow (Be it for nothing but to spight my wife) Vpon mine hostesse there, good sir make haste: Since mine owne doores refuse to entertaine me, Ile knocke else-where, to see if they'll disdaine me

Ang. Ile meet you at that place some houre hence

Anti. Do so, this iest shall cost me some expence.

Exeunt.

Enter Iuliana, with Antipholus of Siracusia.

Iulia. And may it be that you haue quite forgot A husbands office? shall Antipholus Euen in the spring of Loue, thy Loue-springs rot? Shall loue in buildings grow so ruinate? If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealths-sake vse her with more kindnesse: Or if you like else-where doe it by stealth, Muffle your false loue with some shew of blindnesse: Let not my sister read it in your eye: Be not thy tongue thy owne shames Orator: Looke sweet, speake faire, become disloyaltie: Apparell vice like vertues harbenger: Beare a faire presence, though your heart be tainted, Teach sinne the carriage of a holy Saint, Be secret false: what need she be acquainted? What simple thiefe brags of his owne attaine? 'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed, And let her read it in thy lookes at boord: Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed, Ill deeds is doubled with an euill word: Alas poore women, make vs not beleeue (Being compact of credit) that you loue vs, Though others haue the arme, shew vs the sleeue: We in your motion turne, and you may moue vs. Then gentle brother get you in againe; Comfort my sister, cheere her, call her wise; 'Tis holy sport to be a little vaine, When the sweet breath of flatterie conquers strife

S.Anti. Sweete Mistris, what your name is else I know not; Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine: Lesse in your knowledge, and your grace you show not, Then our earths wonder, more then earth diuine. Teach me deere creature how to thinke and speake: Lay open to my earthie grosse conceit: Smothred in errors, feeble, shallow, weake, The foulded meaning of your words deceit: Against my soules pure truth, why labour you, To make it wander in an vnknowne field? Are you a god? would you create me new? Transforme me then, and to your powre Ile yeeld. But if that I am I, then well I know, Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Nor to her bed no homage doe I owe: Farre more, farre more, to you doe I decline: Oh traine me not sweet Mermaide with thy note, To drowne me in thy sister floud of teares: Sing Siren for thy selfe, and I will dote: Spread ore the siluer waues thy golden haires; And as a bud Ile take thee, and there lie: And in that glorious supposition thinke, He gaines by death, that hath such meanes to die: Let Loue, being light, be drowned if she sinke

Luc. What are you mad, that you doe reason so? Ant. Not mad, but mated, how I doe not know

Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eie

Ant. For gazing on your beames faire sun being by

Luc. Gaze when you should, and that will cleere your sight

Ant. As good to winke sweet loue, as looke on night

Luc. Why call you me loue? Call my sister so

Ant. Thy sisters sister

Luc. That's my sister

Ant. No: it is thy selfe, mine owne selfes better part: Mine eies cleere eie, my deere hearts deerer heart; My foode, my fortune, and my sweet hopes aime; My sole earths heauen, and my heauens claime

Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be

Ant. Call thy selfe sister sweet, for I am thee: Thee will I loue, and with thee lead my life; Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife: Giue me thy hand

Luc. Oh soft sir, hold you still: Ile fetch my sister to get her good will.

Enter.

Enter Dromio, Siracusia.

Ant. Why how now Dromio, where run'st thou so fast? S.Dro. Doe you know me sir? Am I Dromio? Am I your man? Am I my selfe? Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thy selfe

Dro. I am an asse, I am a womans man, and besides my selfe

Ant. What womans man? and how besides thy selfe? Dro. Marrie sir, besides my selfe, I am due to a woman: One that claimes me, one that haunts me, one that will haue me

Anti. What claime laies she to thee? Dro. Marry sir, such claime as you would lay to your horse, and she would haue me as a beast, not that I beeing a beast she would haue me, but that she being a verie beastly creature layes claime to me

Anti. What is she? Dro. A very reuerent body: I such a one, as a man may not speake of, without he say sir reuerence, I haue but leane lucke in the match, and yet is she a wondrous fat marriage

Anti. How dost thou meane a fat marriage? Dro. Marry sir, she's the Kitchin wench, & al grease, and I know not what vse to put her too, but to make a Lampe of her, and run from her by her owne light. I warrant, her ragges and the Tallow in them, will burne a Poland Winter: If she liues till doomesday, she'l burne a weeke longer then the whole World

Anti. What complexion is she of? Dro. Swart like my shoo, but her face nothing like so cleane kept: for why? she sweats a man may goe ouer-shooes in the grime of it

Anti. That's a fault that water will mend

Dro. No sir, 'tis in graine, Noahs flood could not do it

Anti. What's her name? Dro. Nell Sir: but her name is three quarters, that's an Ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip

Anti. Then she beares some bredth? Dro. No longer from head to foot, then from hippe to hippe: she is sphericall, like a globe: I could find out Countries in her

Anti. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Dro. Marry sir in her buttockes, I found it out by the bogges

Ant. Where Scotland? Dro. I found it by the barrennesse, hard in the palme of the hand

Ant. Where France? Dro. In her forhead, arm'd and reuerted, making warre against her heire

Ant. Where England? Dro. I look'd for the chalkle Cliffes, but I could find no whitenesse in them. But I guesse, it stood in her chin by the salt rheume that ranne betweene France, and it

Ant. Where Spaine? Dro. Faith I saw it not: but I felt it hot in her breth

Ant. Where America, the Indies? Dro. Oh sir, vpon her nose, all ore embellished with Rubies, Carbuncles, Saphires, declining their rich Aspect to the hot breath of Spaine, who sent whole Armadoes of Carrects to be ballast at her nose

Anti. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands? Dro. Oh sir, I did not looke so low. To conclude, this drudge or Diuiner layd claime to mee, call'd mee Dromio, swore I was assur'd to her, told me what priuie markes I had about mee, as the marke of my shoulder, the Mole in my necke, the great Wart on my left arme, that I amaz'd ranne from her as a witch. And I thinke, if my brest had not beene made of faith, and my heart of steele, she had transform'd me to a Curtull dog, & made me turne i'th wheele

Anti. Go hie thee presently, post to the rode, And if the winde blow any way from shore, I will not harbour in this Towne to night. If any Barke put forth, come to the Mart, Where I will walke till thou returne to me: If euerie one knowes vs, and we know none, 'Tis time I thinke to trudge, packe, and be gone

Dro. As from a Beare a man would run for life, So flie I from her that would be my wife.

Exit

Anti. There's none but Witches do inhabite heere, And therefore 'tis hie time that I were hence: She that doth call me husband, euen my soule Doth for a wife abhorre. But her faire sister Possest with such a gentle soueraigne grace, Of such inchanting presence and discourse, Hath almost made me Traitor to my selfe: But least my selfe be guilty to selfe wrong, Ile stop mine eares against the Mermaids song.

Enter Angelo with the Chaine.

Ang. Mr Antipholus

Anti. I that's my name

Ang. I know it well sir, loe here's the chaine, I thought to haue tane you at the Porpentine, The chaine vnfinish'd made me stay thus long

Anti. What is your will that I shal do with this? Ang. What please your selfe sir: I haue made it for you

Anti. Made it for me sir, I bespoke it not

Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twentie times you haue: Go home with it, and please your Wife withall, And soone at supper time Ile visit you, And then receiue my money for the chaine

Anti. I pray you sir receiue the money now. For feare you ne're see chaine, nor mony more

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

Enter.

Ant. What I should thinke of this, I cannot tell: But this I thinke, there's no man is so vaine, That would refuse so faire an offer'd Chaine. I see a man heere needs not liue by shifts, When in the streets he meetes such Golden gifts: Ile to the Mart, and there for Dromio stay, If any ship put out, then straight away.

Enter.

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter a Merchant, Goldsmith, and an Officer.

Mar. You know since Pentecost the sum is due, And since I haue 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 Ile attach you by this Officer

Gold. Euen iust 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 Chaine, at fiue a clocke I shall receiue the money for the same: Pleaseth you walke with me downe to his house, I will discharge my bond, and thanke you too.

Enter Antipholus Ephes.Dromio from the Courtizans.

Offi. That labour may you saue: See where he comes

Ant. While I go to the Goldsmiths house, go thou And buy a ropes end, that will I bestow Among my wife, and their confederates, For locking me out of my doores by day: But soft I see the Goldsmith; get thee gone, Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me

Dro. I buy a thousand pound a yeare, I buy a rope.

Exit Dromio

Eph.Ant. A man is well holpe vp that trusts to you, I promised your presence, and the Chaine, But neither Chaine nor Goldsmith came to me: Belike you thought our loue would last too long If it were chain'd together: and therefore came not

Gold. Sauing your merrie humor: here's the note How much your Chaine weighs to the vtmost charect, The finenesse of the Gold, and chargefull fashion, Which doth amount to three odde Duckets more Then I stand debted to this Gentleman, I pray you see him presently discharg'd, For he is bound to Sea, and stayes but for it

Anti. I am not furnish'd with the present monie: Besides I haue some businesse in the towne, Good Signior take the stranger to my house, And with you take the Chaine, and bid my wife Disburse the summe, on the receit thereof, Perchance I will be there as soone as you

Gold. Then you will bring the Chaine to her your selfe

Anti. No beare it with you, least I come not time enough

Gold. Well sir, I will? Haue you the Chaine about you? Ant. And if I haue not sir, I hope you haue: Or else you may returne without your money

Gold. Nay come I pray you sir, giue me the Chaine: Both winde and tide stayes for this Gentleman, And I too blame haue held him heere too long

Anti. Good Lord, you vse this dalliance to excuse Your breach of promise to the Porpentine, I should haue chid you for not bringing it, But like a shrew you first begin to brawle

Mar. The houre steales on, I pray you sir dispatch

Gold. You heare how he importunes me, the Chaine

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

Gold. Come, come, you know I gaue it you euen now. Either send the Chaine, or send me by some token

Ant. Fie, now you run this humor out of breath, Come where's the Chaine, I pray you let me see it

Mar. My businesse cannot brooke this dalliance, Good sir say, whe'r you'l answer me, or no: If not, Ile leaue him to the Officer

Ant. I answer you? What should I answer you

Gold. The monie that you owe me for the Chaine

Ant. I owe you none, till I receiue the Chaine

Gold. You know I gaue it you halfe an houre since

Ant. You gaue me none, you wrong mee much to say so

Gold. You wrong me more sir in denying it. Consider how it stands vpon my credit

Mar. Well Officer, arrest him at my suite

Offi. I do, and charge you in the Dukes name to obey me

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

Ant. Consent to pay thee that I neuer had: Arrest me foolish fellow if thou dar'st

Gold. Heere is thy fee, arrest him Officer. I would not spare my brother in this case, If he should scorne me so apparantly

Offic. I do arrest you sir, you heare the suite

Ant. I do obey thee, till I giue thee baile. But sirrah, you shall buy this sport as deere, As all the mettall in your shop will answer

Gold. Sir, sir, I shall haue Law in Ephesus, To your notorious shame, I doubt it not.

Enter Dromio Sira. from the Bay.

Dro. Master, there's a Barke of Epidamium, That staies but till her Owner comes aboord, And then sir she beares away. Our fraughtage sir, I haue conuei'd aboord, and I haue bought The Oyle, the Balsamum, and Aqua-vitae. The ship is in her trim, the merrie winde Blowes faire from land: they stay for nought at all, But for their Owner, Master, and your selfe

An. How now? a Madman? Why thou peeuish sheep What ship of Epidamium staies for me

S.Dro. A ship you sent me too, to hier waftage

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

S.Dro. You sent me for a ropes end as soone, You sent me to the Bay sir, for a Barke

Ant. I will debate this matter at more leisure And teach your eares to list me with more heede: To Adriana Villaine hie thee straight: Giue her this key, and tell her in the Deske That's couer'd o're with Turkish Tapistrie, There is a purse of Duckets, let her send it: Tell her, I am arrested in the streete, And that shall baile me: hie thee slaue, be gone, On Officer to prison, till it come.

Exeunt.

S.Dromio. To Adriana, that is where we din'd, Where Dowsabell did claime me for her husband, She is too bigge I hope for me to compasse, Thither I must, although against my will: For seruants must their Masters mindes fulfill.

Exit

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adr. Ah Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Might'st thou perceiue austeerely in his eie, That he did plead in earnest, yea or no: Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily? What obseruation mad'st thou in this case? Oh, his hearts Meteors tilting in his face

Luc. First he deni'de 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 heere

Adr. And true he swore, though yet forsworne hee were

Luc. Then pleaded I for you

Adr. And what said he? Luc. That loue I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me

Adr. With what perswasion did he tempt thy loue? Luc. With words, that in an honest suit might moue. First, he did praise my beautie, then my speech

Adr. Did'st speake him faire? Luc. Haue patience I beseech

Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me still. My tongue, though not my heart, shall haue his will. He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, Ill-fac'd, worse bodied, shapelesse euery where: Vicious, vngentle, foolish, blunt, vnkinde, Stigmaticall in making worse in minde

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

Adr. Ah but I thinke him better then I say: And yet would herein others eies were worse: Farre from her nest the Lapwing cries away; My heart praies for him, though my tongue doe curse.

Enter S.Dromio.

Dro. Here goe: the deske, 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 then hell: A diuell in an euerlasting garment hath him; On whose hard heart is button'd vp with steele: A Feind, a Fairie, pittilesse and ruffe: A Wolfe, nay worse, a fellow all in buffe: A back friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that counterma[n]ds The passages of allies, creekes, and narrow lands: A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well, One that before the Iudgme[n]t carries poore soules to hel

Adr. Why man, what is the matter? S.Dro. I doe not know the matter, hee is rested on the case

Adr. What is he arrested? tell me at whose suite? S.Dro. I know not at whose suite he is arested well; but is in a suite of buffe which rested him, that can I tell, will you send him Mistris redemption, the monie in his deske

Adr. Go fetch it Sister: this I wonder at.

Exit Luciana.

Thus he vnknowne to me should be in debt: Tell me, was he arested on a band? S.Dro. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing: A chaine, a chaine, doe you not here it ring

Adria. What, the chaine? S.Dro. No, no, the bell, 'tis time that I were gone: It was two ere I left him, and now the clocke strikes one

Adr. The houres come backe, that did I neuer here

S.Dro. Oh yes, if any houre meete a Serieant, a turnes backe for verie feare

Adri. As if time were in debt: how fondly do'st thou reason? S.Dro. Time is a verie bankerout, and owes more then he's worth to season. Nay, he's a theefe too: haue you not heard men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? If I be in debt and theft, and a Serieant in the way, Hath he not reason to turne backe an houre in a day?

Enter Luciana.

Adr. Go Dromio, there's the monie, beare it straight, And bring thy Master home imediately. Come sister, I am prest downe with conceit: Conceit, my comfort and my iniurie.

Enter.

Enter Antipholus Siracusia.

There's not a man I meete but doth salute me As if I were their well acquainted friend, And euerie one doth call me by my name: Some tender monie to me, some inuite me; Some other giue me thankes for kindnesses; Some offer me Commodities to buy. Euen now a tailor cal'd me in his shop, And show'd me Silkes that he had bought for me, And therewithall tooke measure of my body. Sure these are but imaginarie wiles, And lapland Sorcerers inhabite here.

Enter Dromio. Sir.

S.Dro. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: what haue you got the picture of old Adam new apparel'd? Ant. What gold is this? What Adam do'st thou meane? S.Dro. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise: but that Adam that keepes the prison; hee that goes in the calues-skin, that was kil'd for the Prodigall: hee that came behinde you sir, like an euill angel, and bid you forsake your libertie

Ant. I vnderstand thee not

S.Dro. No? why 'tis a plaine case: he that went like a Base-Viole in a case of leather; the man sir, that when gentlemen are tired giues them a sob, and rests them: he sir, that takes pittie on decaied men, and giues them suites of durance: he that sets vp his rest to doe more exploits with his Mace, then a Moris Pike

Ant. What thou mean'st an officer? S.Dro. I sir, the Serieant of the Band: he that brings any man to answer it that breakes his Band: one that thinkes a man alwaies going to bed, and saies, God giue you good rest

Ant. Well sir, there rest in your foolerie: Is there any ships puts forth to night? may we be gone? S.Dro. Why sir, I brought you word an houre since, that the Barke Expedition put forth to night, and then were you hindred by the Serieant to tarry for the Hoy Delay: Here are the angels that you sent for to deliuer you

Ant. The fellow is distract, and so am I, And here we wander in illusions: Some blessed power deliuer vs from hence.

Enter a Curtizan.

Cur. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus: I see sir you haue found the Gold-smith now: Is that the chaine you promis'd me to day

Ant. Sathan auoide, I charge thee tempt me not

S.Dro. Master, is this Mistris Sathan? Ant. It is the diuell

S.Dro. Nay, she is worse, she is the diuels 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 to say, God make me a light wench: It is written, they appeare to men like angels of light, light is an effect of fire, and fire will burne: ergo, light wenches will burne, come not neere her

Cur. Your man and you are maruailous merrie sir. Will you goe with me, wee'll mend our dinner here? S.Dro. Master, if do expect spoon-meate, or bespeake a long spoone

Ant. Why Dromio? S.Dro. Marrie he must haue a long spoone that must eate with the diuell

Ant. Auoid then fiend, what tel'st thou me of supping? Thou art, as you are all a sorceresse: I coniure thee to leaue me, and be gon

Cur. Giue me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or for my Diamond the Chaine you promis'd, And Ile be gone sir, and not trouble you

S.Dro. Some diuels aske but the parings of ones naile, a rush, a haire, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherriestone: but she more couetous, wold haue a chaine: Master be wise, and if you giue it her, the diuell will shake her Chaine, and fright vs with it

Cur. I pray you sir my Ring, or else the Chaine, I hope you do not meane to cheate me so? Ant. Auant thou witch: Come Dromio let vs go

S.Dro. Flie pride saies the Pea-cocke, Mistris that you know.

Enter.

Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad, Else would he neuer so demeane himselfe, A Ring he hath of mine worth fortie Duckets, And for the same he promis'd me a Chaine, 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 owne doores being shut against his entrance. Belike his wife acquainted with his fits, On purpose shut the doores against his way: My way is now to hie home to his house, And tell his wife, that being Lunaticke, He rush'd into my house, and tooke perforce My Ring away. This course I fittest choose, For fortie Duckets is too much to loose.

Enter Antipholus Ephes. with a Iailor.

An. Feare me not man, I will not breake away, Ile giue thee ere I leaue thee so much money To warrant thee as I am rested for. My wife is in a wayward moode 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 eares.

Enter Dromio Eph. with a ropes end.

Heere comes my Man, I thinke he brings the monie. How now sir? Haue you that I sent you for? E.Dro. Here's that I warrant you will pay them all

Anti. But where's the Money? E.Dro. Why sir, I gaue the Monie for the Rope

Ant. Fiue hundred Duckets villaine for a rope? E.Dro. Ile serue you sir fiue hundred at the rate

Ant. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home? E.Dro. To a ropes end sir, and to that end am I return'd

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 aduersitie

Offi. Good now hold thy tongue

E.Dro. Nay, rather perswade him to hold his hands

Anti. Thou whoreson senselesse Villaine

E.Dro. I would I were senselesse sir, that I might not feele your blowes

Anti. Thou art sensible in nothing but blowes, and so is an Asse

E.Dro. I am an Asse indeede, you may prooue it by my long eares. I haue serued him from the houre of my Natiuitie to this instant, and haue nothing at his hands for my seruice but blowes. When I am cold, he heates me with beating: when I am warme, he cooles me with beating: I am wak'd with it when I sleepe, rais'd with it when I sit, driuen out of doores with it when I goe from home, welcom'd home with it when I returne, nay I beare it on my shoulders, as a begger woont her brat: and I thinke when he hath lam'd me, I shall begge with it from doore to doore.

Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtizan, and a Schoolemaster, call'd Pinch.

Ant. Come goe along, my wife is comming yonder

E.Dro. Mistris respice finem, respect your end, or rather the prophesie like the Parrat, beware the ropes end

Anti. Wilt thou still talke?

Beats Dro.

Curt. How say you now? Is not your husband mad? Adri. His inciuility confirmes no lesse: Good Doctor Pinch, you are a Coniurer, Establish him in his true sence againe, And I will please you what you will demand

Luc. Alas how fiery, and how sharpe he lookes

Cur. Marke, how he trembles in his extasie

Pinch. Giue me your hand, and let mee feele your pulse

Ant. There is my hand, and let it feele your eare

Pinch. I charge thee Sathan, hous'd within this man, To yeeld possession to my holie praiers, And to thy state of darknesse hie thee straight, I coniure thee by all the Saints in heauen

Anti. Peace doting wizard, peace; I am not mad

Adr. Oh that thou wer't not, poore distressed soule

Anti. You Minion you, are these your Customers? Did this Companion with the saffron face Reuell and feast it at my house to day, Whil'st vpon me the guiltie doores were shut, And I denied to enter in my house

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

Anti. Din'd at home? Thou Villaine, what sayest thou? Dro. Sir sooth to say, you did not dine at home

Ant. Were not my doores lockt vp, and I shut out? Dro. Perdie, your doores were lockt, and you shut out

Anti. And did not she her selfe reuile me there? Dro. Sans Fable, she her selfe reuil'd you there

Anti. Did not her Kitchen maide raile, taunt, and scorne me? Dro. Certis she did, the kitchin vestall scorn'd you

Ant. And did not I in rage depart from thence? Dro. In veritie you did, my bones beares witnesse, That since haue felt the vigor of his rage

Adr. Is't good to sooth him in these contraries? Pinch. It is no shame, the fellow finds his vaine, And yeelding to him, humors well his frensie

Ant. Thou hast subborn'd the Goldsmith to arrest mee

Adr. Alas, I sent you Monie to redeeme you, By Dromio heere, who came in hast for it

Dro. Monie by me? Heart and good will you might, But surely Master not a ragge of Monie

Ant. Wentst not thou to her for a purse of Duckets

Adri. He came to me, and I deliuer'd it

Luci. And I am witnesse with her that she did: Dro. God and the Rope-maker beare me witnesse, That I was sent for nothing but a rope

Pinch. Mistris, both Man and Master is possest, I know it by their pale and deadly lookes, They must be bound and laide in some darke roome

Ant. Say wherefore didst thou locke me forth to day, And why dost thou denie the bagge of gold? Adr. I did not gentle husband locke thee forth

Dro. And gentle Mr I receiu'd no gold: But I confesse sir, that we were lock'd out

Adr. Dissembling Villain, thou speak'st false in both Ant. Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all, And art confederate with a damned packe, To make a loathsome abiect scorne of me: But with these nailes, Ile plucke out these false eyes, That would behold in me this shamefull sport.

Enter three or foure, and offer to binde him: Hee striues.

Adr. Oh binde him, binde him, let him not come neere me

Pinch. More company, the fiend is strong within him Luc. Aye me poore man, how pale and wan he looks

Ant. What will you murther me, thou Iailor thou? I am thy prisoner, wilt thou suffer them to make a rescue? Offi. Masters let him go: he is my prisoner, and you shall not haue him

Pinch. Go binde this man, for he is franticke too

Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peeuish Officer? Hast thou delight to see a wretched man Do outrage and displeasure to himselfe? Offi. He is my prisoner, if I let him go, The debt he owes will be requir'd of me

Adr. I will discharge thee ere I go from thee, Beare me forthwith vnto his Creditor, And knowing how the debt growes I will pay it. Good Master Doctor see him safe conuey'd Home to my house, oh most vnhappy day

Ant. Oh most vnhappie strumpet

Dro. Master, I am heere entred in bond for you

Ant. Out on thee Villaine, wherefore dost thou mad mee? Dro. Will you be bound for nothing, be mad good Master, cry the diuell

Luc. God helpe poore soules, how idlely doe they talke

Adr. Go beare him hence, sister go you with me: Say now, whose suite is he arrested at?

Exeunt. Manet Offic. Adri. Luci. Courtizan

Off. One Angelo a Goldsmith, do you know him? Adr. I know the man: what is the summe he owes? Off. Two hundred Duckets

Adr. Say, how growes it due

Off. Due for a Chaine your husband had of him

Adr. He did bespeake a Chain for me, but had it not

Cur. When as your husband all in rage to day Came to my house, and tooke away my Ring, The Ring I saw vpon his finger now, Straight after did I meete him with a Chaine

Adr. It may be so, but I did neuer see it. Come Iailor, bring me where the Goldsmith is, I long to know the truth heereof at large.

Enter Antipholus Siracusia with his Rapier drawne, and Dromio Sirac.

Luc. God for thy mercy, they are loose againe

Adr. And come with naked swords, Let's call more helpe to haue them bound againe.

Runne all out.

Off. Away, they'l kill vs.

Exeunt. omnes, as fast as may be, frighted.

S.Ant. I see these Witches are affraid of swords

S.Dro. She that would be your wife, now ran from you

Ant. Come to the Centaur, fetch our stuffe from thence: I long that we were safe and sound aboord

Dro. Faith stay heere this night, they will surely do vs no harme: you saw they speake vs faire, giue vs gold: me thinkes they are such a gentle Nation, that but for the Mountaine of mad flesh that claimes mariage of me, I could finde in my heart to stay heere still, and turne Witch

Ant. I will not stay to night for all the Towne, Therefore away, to get our stuffe aboord.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter the Merchant and the Goldsmith.

Gold. I am sorry Sir that I haue hindred you, But I protest he had the Chaine of me, Though most dishonestly he doth denie it

Mar. How is the man esteem'd heere in the Citie? Gold. Of very reuerent reputation sir, Of credit infinite, highly belou'd, Second to none that liues heere in the Citie: His word might beare my wealth at any time

Mar. Speake softly, yonder as I thinke he walkes.

Enter Antipholus and Dromio againe.

Gold. 'Tis so: and that selfe chaine about his necke, Which he forswore most monstrously to haue. Good sir draw neere to me, Ile speake to him: Signior Antipholus, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble, And not without some scandall to your selfe, With circumstance and oaths, so to denie This Chaine, which now you weare so openly. Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment, You haue done wrong to this my honest friend, Who but for staying on our Controuersie, Had hoisted saile, and put to sea to day: This Chaine you had of me, can you deny it? Ant. I thinke I had, I neuer did deny it

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

Ant. Who heard me to denie it or forsweare it? Mar. These eares of mine thou knowst did hear thee: Fie on thee wretch, 'tis pitty that thou liu'st To walke where any honest men resort

Ant. Thou art a Villaine to impeach me thus, Ile proue mine honor, and mine honestie Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand: Mar. I dare and do defie thee for a villaine.

They draw. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, & others.

Adr. Hold, hurt him not for God sake, he is mad, Some get within him, take his sword away: Binde Dromio too, and beare them to my house

S.Dro. Runne master run, for Gods sake take a house, This is some Priorie, in, or we are spoyl'd.

Exeunt. to the Priorie.

Enter Ladie Abbesse.

Ab. Be quiet people, wherefore throng you hither? Adr. To fetch my poore distracted husband hence, Let vs come in, that we may binde him fast, And beare him home for his recouerie

Gold. I knew he was not in his perfect wits

Mar. I am sorry now that I did draw on him

Ab. How long hath this possession held the man

Adr. This weeke he hath beene heauie, sower sad, And much different from the man he was: But till this afternoone his passion Ne're brake into extremity of rage

Ab. Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack of sea, Buried some deere friend, hath not else his eye Stray'd his affection in vnlawfull loue, A sinne preuailing much in youthfull men, Who giue their eies the liberty of gazing. Which of these sorrowes is he subiect too? Adr. To none of these, except it be the last, Namely, some loue that drew him oft from home

Ab. You should for that haue reprehended him

Adr. Why so I did

Ab. I but not rough enough

Adr. As roughly as my modestie would let me

Ab. Haply in priuate

Adr. And in assemblies too

Ab. I, but not enough

Adr. It was the copie of our Conference. In bed he slept not for my vrging it, At boord he fed not for my vrging it: Alone, it was the subiect of my Theame: In company I often glanced it: Still did I tell him, it was vilde and bad

Ab. And thereof came it, that the man was mad. The venome clamors of a iealous woman, Poisons more deadly then a mad dogges tooth. It seemes his sleepes were hindred by thy railing, And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou saist his meate was sawc'd with thy vpbraidings, Vnquiet meales make ill digestions, Thereof the raging fire of feauer bred, And what's a Feauer, but a fit of madnesse? Thou sayest his sports were hindred by thy bralles. Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue But moodie and dull melancholly, Kinsman to grim and comfortlesse dispaire, And at her heeles a huge infectious troope Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life? In food, in sport, and life-preseruing rest To be disturb'd, would mad or man, or beast: The consequence is then, thy iealous fits Hath scar'd thy husband from the vse of wits

Luc. She neuer reprehended him but mildely, When he demean'd himselfe, rough, rude, and wildly, Why beare you these rebukes, and answer not? Adri. She did betray me to my owne reproofe, Good people enter, and lay hold on him

Ab. No, not a creature enters in my house

Ad. Then let your seruants bring my husband forth Ab. Neither: he tooke this place for sanctuary, And it shall priuiledge him from your hands, Till I haue brought him to his wits againe, Or loose my labour in assaying it

Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, Diet his sicknesse, for it is my Office, And will haue no atturney but my selfe, And therefore let me haue him home with me

Ab. Be patient, for I will not let him stirre, Till I haue vs'd the approoued meanes I haue, With wholsome sirrups, drugges, and holy prayers To make of him a formall man againe: It is a branch and parcell of mine oath, A charitable dutie of my order, Therefore depart, and leaue him heere with me

Adr. I will not hence, and leaue my husband heere: And ill it doth beseeme your holinesse To separate the husband and the wife

Ab. Be quiet and depart, thou shalt not haue him

Luc. Complaine vnto the Duke of this indignity

Adr. Come go, I will fall prostrate at his feete, And neuer rise vntill my teares and prayers Haue won his grace to come in person hither, And take perforce my husband from the Abbesse

Mar. By this I thinke the Diall points at fiue: Anon I'me sure the Duke himselfe in person Comes this way to the melancholly vale; The place of depth, and sorrie execution, Behinde the ditches of the Abbey heere

Gold. Vpon what cause? Mar. To see a reuerent Siracusian Merchant, Who put vnluckily into this Bay Against the Lawes and Statutes of this Towne, Beheaded publikely for his offence

Gold. See where they come, we wil behold his death Luc. Kneele to the Duke before he passe the Abbey.

Enter the Duke of Ephesus, and the Merchant of Siracuse bare head, with the Headsman, & other Officers.

Duke. Yet once againe proclaime it publikely, If any friend will pay the summe for him, He shall not die, so much we tender him

Adr. Iustice most sacred Duke against the Abbesse

Duke. She is a vertuous and a reuerend Lady, It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong

Adr. May it please your Grace, Antipholus my husba[n]d, Who I made Lord of me, and all I had, At your important Letters this ill day, A most outragious fit of madnesse tooke him: That desp'rately he hurried through the streete, With him his bondman, all as mad as he, Doing displeasure to the Citizens, By rushing in their houses: bearing thence Rings, Iewels, any thing his rage did like. Once did I get him bound, and sent him home, Whil'st to take order for the wrongs I went, That heere and there his furie 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 himselfe, Each one with irefull passion, with drawne swords Met vs againe, and madly bent on vs Chac'd vs away: till raising of more aide We came againe to binde them: then they fled Into this Abbey, whether we pursu'd them, And heere the Abbesse shuts the gates on vs, And will not suffer vs to fetch him out, Nor send him forth, that we may beare him hence. Therefore most gracious Duke with thy command, Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for helpe

Duke. Long since thy husband seru'd me in my wars And I to thee ingag'd a Princes word, When thou didst make him Master of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go some of you, knocke at the Abbey gate, And bid the Lady Abbesse come to me: I will determine this before I stirre.

Enter a Messenger.

Oh Mistris, Mistris, shift and saue your selfe, My Master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the Maids a-row, and bound the Doctor, Whose beard they haue sindg'd off with brands of fire, And euer as it blaz'd, they threw on him Great pailes of puddled myre to quench the haire; My Mr preaches patience to him, and the while His man with Cizers nickes him like a foole: And sure (vnlesse you send some present helpe) Betweene them they will kill the Coniurer

Adr. Peace foole, thy Master and his man are here, And that is false thou dost report to vs

Mess. Mistris, vpon my life I tel you true, I haue not breath'd almost since I did see it. He cries for you, and vowes if he can take you, To scorch your face, and to disfigure you:

Cry within.

Harke, harke, I heare him Mistris: flie, be gone

Duke. Come stand by me, feare nothing: guard with Halberds

Adr. Ay me, it is my husband: witnesse you, That he is borne about inuisible, Euen now we hous'd him in the Abbey heere. And now he's there, past thought of humane reason.

Enter Antipholus, and E.Dromio of Ephesus.

E.Ant. Iustice most gracious Duke, oh grant me iustice, Euen for the seruice that long since I did thee, When I bestrid thee in the warres, and tooke Deepe scarres to saue thy life; euen for the blood That then I lost for thee, now grant me iustice

Mar.Fat. Vnlesse the feare of death doth make me dote, I see my sonne Antipholus and Dromio

E.Ant. Iustice (sweet Prince) against y Woman there: She whom thou gau'st to me to be my wife; That hath abused and dishonored me, Euen in the strength and height of iniurie: Beyond imagination is the wrong That she this day hath shamelesse throwne on me

Duke. Discouer how, and thou shalt finde me iust

E.Ant. This day (great Duke) she shut the doores vpon me, While she with Harlots feasted in my house

Duke. A greeuous fault: say woman, didst thou so? Adr. No my good Lord. My selfe, he, and my sister, To day did dine together: so befall my soule, As this is false he burthens me withall

Luc. Nere may I looke on day, nor sleepe on night, But she tels to your Highnesse simple truth

Gold. O periur'd woman! They are both forsworne, In this the Madman iustly chargeth them

E.Ant. My Liege, I am aduised what I say, Neither disturbed with the effect of Wine, Nor headie-rash prouoak'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 witnesse it: for he was with me then, Who parted with me to go fetch a Chaine, Promising to bring it to the Porpentine, Where Balthasar and I did dine together. Our dinner done, and he not comming thither, I went to seeke him. In the street I met him, And in his companie that Gentleman. There did this periur'd Goldsmith sweare me downe, That I this day of him receiu'd the Chaine, Which God he knowes, I saw not. For the which, He did arrest me with an Officer. I did obey, and sent my Pesant home For certaine Duckets: he with none return'd. Then fairely I bespoke the Officer To go in person with me to my house. By'th' way, we met my wife, her sister, and a rabble more Of vilde Confederates: Along with them They brought one Pinch, a hungry leane-fac'd Villaine; A meere Anatomie, a Mountebanke, A thred-bare Iugler, and a Fortune-teller, A needy-hollow-ey'd-sharpe-looking-wretch; A liuing dead man. This pernicious slaue, Forsooth tooke on him as a Coniurer: And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, And with no-face (as 'twere) out-facing me, Cries out, I was possest. Then altogether They fell vpon me, bound me, bore me thence, And in a darke 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 freedome; and immediately Ran hether to your Grace, whom I beseech To giue me ample satisfaction For these deepe shames, and great indignities

Gold. My Lord, in truth, thus far I witnes with him: That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out

Duke. But had he such a Chaine of thee, or no? Gold. He had my Lord, and when he ran in heere, These people saw the Chaine about his necke

Mar. Besides, I will be sworne these eares of mine, Heard you confesse you had the Chaine 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 heere, From whence I thinke you are come by Miracle

E.Ant. I neuer came within these Abbey wals, Nor euer didst thou draw thy sword on me: I neuer saw the Chaine, so helpe me heauen: And this is false you burthen me withall

Duke. Why what an intricate impeach is this? I thinke you all haue drunke of Circes cup: If heere you hous'd him, heere he would haue bin. If he were mad, he would not pleade so coldly: You say he din'd at home, the Goldsmith heere Denies that saying. Sirra, what say you? E.Dro. Sir he din'de with her there, at the Porpentine

Cur. He did, and from my finger snacht that Ring

E.Anti. Tis true (my Liege) this Ring I had of her

Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the Abbey heere? Curt. As sure (my Liege) as I do see your Grace

Duke. Why this is straunge: Go call the Abbesse hither. I thinke you are all mated, or starke mad.

Exit one to the Abbesse.

Fa. Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word: Haply I see a friend will saue my life, And pay the sum that may deliuer me

Duke. Speake freely Siracusian what thou wilt

Fath. Is not your name sir call'd Antipholus? And is not that your bondman Dromio? E.Dro. Within this houre I was his bondman sir, But he I thanke him gnaw'd in two my cords, Now am I Dromio, and his man, vnbound

Fath. I am sure you both of you remember me

Dro. Our selues we do remember sir by you: For lately we were bound as you are now. You are not Pinches patient, are you sir? Father. Why looke you strange on me? you know me well

E.Ant. I neuer saw you in my life till now

Fa. Oh! griefe hath chang'd me since you saw me last, And carefull houres with times deformed hand, Haue written strange defeatures in my face: But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice? Ant. Neither

Fat. Dromio, nor thou? Dro. No trust me sir, nor I

Fa. I am sure thou dost? E.Dromio. I sir, but I am sure I do not, and whatsoeuer a man denies, you are now bound to beleeue him

Fath. Not know my voice, oh times extremity Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poore tongue In seuen short yeares, that heere my onely sonne Knowes not my feeble key of vntun'd cares? Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming Winters drizled snow, And all the Conduits of my blood froze vp: Yet hath my night of life some memorie: My wasting lampes some fading glimmer left; My dull deafe eares a little vse to heare: All these old witnesses, I cannot erre. Tell me, thou art my sonne Antipholus

Ant. I neuer saw my Father in my life

Fa. But seuen yeares since, in Siracusa boy Thou know'st we parted, but perhaps my sonne, Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in miserie

Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the City, Can witnesse with me that it is not so. I ne're saw Siracusa in my life

Duke. I tell thee Siracusian, twentie yeares Haue I bin Patron to Antipholus, During which time, he ne're saw Siracusa: I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.

Enter the Abbesse with Antipholus Siracusa, and Dromio Sir.

Abbesse. Most mightie Duke, behold a man much wrong'd.

All gather to see them.

Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceiue me

Duke. One of these men is genius to the other: And so of these, which is the naturall man, And which the spirit? Who deciphers them? S.Dromio. I Sir am Dromio, command him away

E.Dro. I Sir am Dromio, pray let me stay

S.Ant. Egeon art thou not? or else his ghost

S.Drom. Oh my olde Master, who hath bound him heere? Abb. Who euer bound him, I will lose his bonds, And gaine a husband by his libertie: Speake olde Egeon, if thou bee'st the man That hadst a wife once call'd Aemilia, That bore thee at a burthen two faire sonnes? Oh if thou bee'st the same Egeon, speake: And speake vnto the same Aemilia

Duke. Why heere begins his Morning storie right: These two Antipholus, these two so like, And these two Dromio's, one in semblance: Besides her vrging of her wracke at sea, These are the parents to these children, Which accidentally are met together

Fa. If I dreame not, thou art Aemilia, If thou art she, tell me, where is that sonne That floated with thee on the fatall rafte

Abb. By men of Epidamium, he, and I, And the twin Dromio, all were taken vp; But by and by, rude Fishermen of Corinth By force tooke Dromio, and my sonne from them, And me they left with those of Epidamium. What then became of them, I cannot tell: I, to this fortune that you see mee in

Duke. Antipholus thou cam'st from Corinth first

S.Ant. No sir, not I, I came from Siracuse

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

E.Ant. I came from Corinth my most gracious Lord E.Dro. And I with him

E.Ant. Brought to this Town by that most famous Warriour, Duke Menaphon your most renowned Vnckle

Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to day? S.Ant. I, gentle Mistris

Adr. And are not you my husband? E.Ant. No, I say nay to that

S.Ant. And so do I, yet did she call me so: And this faire Gentlewoman her sister heere Did call me brother. What I told you then, I hope I shall haue leisure to make good, If this be not a dreame I see and heare

Goldsmith. That is the Chaine sir, which you had of mee

S.Ant. I thinke it be sir, I denie it not

E.Ant. And you sir for this Chaine arrested me

Gold. I thinke I did sir, I deny it not

Adr. I sent you monie sir to be your baile By Dromio, but I thinke he brought it not

E.Dro. No, none by me

S.Ant. This purse of Duckets I receiu'd from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me: I see we still did meete each others man, And I was tane for him, and he for me, And thereupon these errors are arose

E.Ant. These Duckets pawne I for my father heere

Duke. It shall not neede, thy father hath his life

Cur. Sir I must haue that Diamond from you

E.Ant. There take it, and much thanks for my good cheere

Abb. Renowned Duke, vouchsafe to take the paines To go with vs into the Abbey heere, And heare at large discoursed all our fortunes, And all that are assembled in this place: That by this simpathized one daies error Haue suffer'd wrong. Goe, keepe vs companie, And we shall make full satisfaction. Thirtie three yeares haue I but gone in trauaile Of you my sonnes, and till this present houre My heauie burthen are deliuered: The Duke my husband, and my children both, And you the Kalenders of their Natiuity, Go to a Gossips feast, and go with mee, After so long greefe such Natiuitie

Duke. With all my heart, Ile Gossip at this feast.

Exeunt. omnes. Manet the two Dromio's and two Brothers.

S.Dro. Mast[er]. shall I fetch your stuffe from shipbord? E.An. Dromio, what stuffe of mine hast thou imbarkt S.Dro. Your goods that lay at host sir in the Centaur

S.Ant. He speakes to me, I am your master Dromio. Come go with vs, wee'l looke to that anon, Embrace thy brother there, reioyce with him.

Exit

S.Dro. There is a fat friend at your masters house, That kitchin'd me for you to day at dinner: She now shall be my sister, not my wife, E.D. Me thinks you are my glasse, & not my brother: I see by you, I am a sweet-fac'd youth, Will you walke in to see their gossipping? S.Dro. Not I sir, you are my elder

E.Dro. That's a question, how shall we trie it

S.Dro. Wee'l draw Cuts for the Signior, till then, lead thou first

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

Exeunt.

FINIS. The Comedie of Errors.

Much adoe about Nothing

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.

Leonato. I learne in this Letter, that Don Peter of Arragon, comes this night to Messina

Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not three Leagues off when I left him

Leon. How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this action? Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name

Leon. A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Peter hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called Claudio

Mess. Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remembred by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expectation, then you must expect of me to tell you how

Leo. He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very much glad of it

Mess. I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse

Leo. Did he breake out into teares? Mess. In great measure

Leo. A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no faces truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping? Bea. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the warres, or no? Mess. I know none of that name, Lady, there was none such in the armie of any sort

Leon. What is he that you aske for Neece? Hero. My cousin meanes Signior Benedick of Padua Mess. O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was

Beat. He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing

Leon. 'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too much, but hee'l be meete with you, I doubt it not

Mess. He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars

Beat. You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, hee hath an excellent stomacke

Mess. And a good souldier too Lady

Beat. And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he to a Lord? Mess. A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with all honourable vertues

Beat. It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man: but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall

Leon. You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her: they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between them

Bea. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath euery month a new sworne brother

Mess. Is't possible? Beat. Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with y next block

Mess. I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your bookes

Bea. No, and he were, I would burne my study. But I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the diuell? Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio

Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease: he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand pound ere he be cur'd

Mess. I will hold friends with you Lady

Bea. Do good friend

Leo. You'l ne're run mad Neece

Bea. No, not till a hot Ianuary

Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar, and Iohn the bastard.

Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to auoid cost, and you encounter it

Leon. Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happinesse takes his leaue

Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly: I thinke this is your daughter

Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so

Bened. Were you in doubt that you askt her? Leonato. Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a childe

Pedro. You haue it full Benedicke, we may ghesse by this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable father

Ben. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him as she is

Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior Benedicke, no body markes you

Ben. What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet liuing? Beat. Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke? Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in her presence

Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truely I loue none

Beat. A deere happinesse to women, they would else haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man sweare he loues me

Bene. God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde, so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratcht face

Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere such a face as yours were

Bene. Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher

Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of your

Ben. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods name, I haue done

Beat. You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know you of old

Pedro. This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Claudio, and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may detaine vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but praies from his heart

Leon. If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be forsworne, let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled to the Prince your brother: I owe you all duetie

Iohn. I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I thanke you

Leon. Please it your grace leade on? Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will goe together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.

Clau. Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of signior Leonato? Bene. I noted her not, but I lookt on her

Claud. Is she not a modest yong Ladie? Bene. Doe you question me as an honest man should doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant to their sexe? Clau. No, I pray thee speake in sober iudgement

Bene. Why yfaith me thinks shee's too low for a hie praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her, that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome, and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her

Clau. Thou think'st I am in sport, I pray thee tell me truely how thou lik'st her

Bene. Would you buie her, that you enquier after her? Clau. Can the world buie such a iewell? Ben. Yea, and a case to put it into, but speake you this with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare Carpenter: Come, in what key shall a man take you to goe in the song? Clau. In mine eie, she is the sweetest Ladie that euer I lookt on

Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue no intent to turne husband, haue you? Clau. I would scarce trust my selfe, though I had sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife

Bene. Ist come to this? in faith hath not the world one man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I neuer see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith, and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro is returned to seeke you.

Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard.

Pedr. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonatoes? Bened. I would your Grace would constraine mee to tell

Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegeance

Ben. You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my allegiance, marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short daughter

Clau. If this were so, so were it vttred

Bened. Like the old tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor 'twas not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so

Clau. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise

Pedro. Amen, if you loue her, for the Ladie is verie well worthie

Clau. You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord

Pedr. By my troth I speake my thought

Clau. And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine

Bened. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I speake mine

Clau. That I loue her, I feele

Pedr. That she is worthie, I know

Bened. That I neither feele how shee should be loued, nor know how shee should be worthie, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at the stake

Pedr. Thou wast euer an obstinate heretique in the despight of Beautie

Clau. And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the force of his will Ben. That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the finer) I will liue a Batchellor

Pedro. I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue

Bene. With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger, my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking, picke out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers penne, and hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe of blinde Cupid

Pedro. Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith, thou wilt proue a notable argument

Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoulder, and cal'd Adam

Pedro. Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage Bull doth beare the yoake

Bene. The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may see Benedicke the married man

Clau. If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee horne mad

Pedro. Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly

Bene. I looke for an earthquake too then

Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the houres, in the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes, commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile him at supper, for indeede he hath made great preparation

Bene. I haue almost matter enough in me for such an Embassage, and so I commit you

Clau. To the tuition of God. From my house, if I had it

Pedro. The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend, Benedick

Bene. Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I leaue you.

Enter.

Clau. My Liege, your Highnesse now may doe mee good

Pedro. My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne Any hard Lesson that may do thee good

Clau. Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord? Pedro. No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire. Dost thou affect her Claudio? Clau. O my Lord, When you went onward on this ended action, I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie, That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand, Than to driue liking to the name of loue: But now I am return'd, and that warre-thoughts Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes, Come thronging soft and delicate desires, All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is, Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres

Pedro. Thou wilt be like a louer presently, And tire the hearer with a booke of words: If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it, And I will breake with her: wast not to this end, That thou beganst to twist so fine a story? Clau. How sweetly doe you minister to loue, That know loues griefe by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme, I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise

Ped. What need y bridge much broder then the flood? The fairest graunt is the necessitie: Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest, And I will fit thee with the remedie, I know we shall haue reuelling to night, I will assume thy part in some disguise, And tell faire Hero I am Claudio, And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart, And take her hearing prisoner with the force And strong incounter of my amorous tale: Then after, to her father will I breake, And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine, In practise let vs put it presently.

Exeunt.

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

Leo. How now brother, where is my cosen your son: hath he prouided this musicke? Old. He is very busie about it, but brother, I can tell you newes that you yet dreamt not of

Lo. Are they good? Old. As the euents stamps them, but they haue a good couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard, were thus ouer-heard by a man of mine: the Prince discouered to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the present time by the top, and instantly breake with you of it

Leo. Hath the fellow any wit that told you this? Old. A good sharpe fellow, I will send for him, and question him your selfe

Leo. No, no; wee will hold it as a dreame, till it appeare it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall, that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peraduenture this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coosins, you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mercie friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill, good cosin haue a care this busie time.

Exeunt.

Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.

Con. What the good yeere my Lord, why are you thus out of measure sad? Ioh. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds, therefore the sadnesse is without limit

Con. You should heare reason

Iohn. And when I haue heard it, what blessing bringeth it? Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance

Ioh. I wonder that thou (being as thou saist thou art, borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall medicine, to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humor

Con. Yea, but you must not make the ful show of this, till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you should take root, but by the faire weather that you make your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your owne haruest

Iohn. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this (though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man) it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog, therefore I haue decreed, not to sing in my cage: if I had my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meane time, let me be that I am, and seeke not to alter me

Con. Can you make no vse of your discontent? Iohn. I will make all vse of it, for I vse it onely. Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

Bor. I came yonder from a great supper, the Prince your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can giue you intelligence of an intended marriage

Iohn. Will it serue for any Modell to build mischiefe on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to vnquietnesse? Bor. Mary it is your brothers right hand

Iohn. Who, the most exquisite Claudio? Bor. Euen he

Iohn. A proper squier, and who, and who, which way lookes he? Bor. Mary on Hero, the daughter and Heire of Leonato

Iohn. A very forward March-chicke, how came you to this: Bor. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoaking a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio, hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras, and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue her to Count Claudio

Iohn. Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food to my displeasure, that young start-vp hath all the glorie of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist mee? Conr. To the death my Lord

Iohn. Let vs to the great supper, their cheere is the greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done? Bor. Wee'll wait vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his neece, and a kinsman.

Leonato. Was not Count Iohn here at supper? Brother. I saw him not

Beatrice. How tartly that Gentleman lookes, I neuer can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an howre after

Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition

Beatrice. Hee were an excellent man that were made iust in the mid-way betweene him and Benedicke, the one is too like an image and saies nothing, and the other too like my Ladies eldest sonne, euermore tatling

Leon. Then halfe signior Benedicks tongue in Count Iohns mouth, and halfe Count Iohns melancholy in Signior Benedicks face

Beat. With a good legge, and a good foot vnckle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would winne any woman in the world, if he could get her good will

Leon. By my troth Neece, thou wilt neuer get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue

Brother. Infaith shee's too curst

Beat. Too curst is more then curst, I shall lessen Gods sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst Cow short hornes, but to a Cow too curst he sends none

Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no hornes

Beat. Iust, if he send me no husband, for the which blessing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning and euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen

Leonato. You may light vpon a husband that hath no beard

Beatrice. What should I doe with him? dresse him in my apparell, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath no beard, is lesse then a man: and hee that is more then a youth, is not for mee: and he that is lesse then a man, I am not for him: therefore I will euen take sixepence in earnest of the Berrord, and leade his Apes into hell

Leon. Well then, goe you into hell

Beat. No, but to the gate, and there will the Deuill meete mee like an old Cuckold with hornes on his head, and say, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen, heere's no place for you maids, so deliuer I vp my Apes, and away to S[aint]. Peter: for the heauens, hee shewes mee where the Batchellers sit, and there liue wee as merry as the day is long

Brother. Well neece, I trust you will be rul'd by your father

Beatrice. Yes faith, it is my cosens dutie to make curtsie, and say, as it please you: but yet for all that cosin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make an other cursie, and say, father, as it please me

Leonato. Well neece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband

Beatrice. Not till God make men of some other mettall then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouermastred with a peece of valiant dust: to make account of her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnckle, ile none: Adams sonnes are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sinne to match in my kinred

Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you, if the Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your answere

Beatrice. The fault will be in the musicke cosin, if you be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too important, tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, & repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinquepace: the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch jigge (and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest, (as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue

Leonato. Cosin you apprehend passing shrewdly

Beatrice. I haue a good eye vnckle, I can see a Church by daylight

Leon. The reuellers are entring brother, make good roome. Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar, or dumbe Iohn, Maskers with a drum.

Pedro. Lady, will you walke about with your friend? Hero. So you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I walke away

Pedro. With me in your company

Hero. I may say so when I please

Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your fauour, for God defend the Lute should be like the case

Pedro. My visor is Philemons roofe, within the house is Loue

Hero. Why then your visor should be thatcht

Pedro. Speake low if you speake Loue

Bene. Well, I would you did like me

Mar. So would not I for your owne sake, for I haue manie ill qualities

Bene. Which is one? Mar. I say my prayers alowd

Ben. I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen

Mar. God match me with a good dauncer

Balt. Amen

Mar. And God keepe him out of my sight when the daunce is done: answer Clarke

Balt. No more words, the Clarke is answered

Vrsula. I know you well enough, you are Signior Anthonio

Anth. At a word, I am not

Vrsula. I know you by the wagling of your head

Anth. To tell you true, I counterfet him

Vrsu. You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnlesse you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down, you are he, you are he

Anth. At a word I am not

Vrsula. Come, come, doe you thinke I doe not know you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe to mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's an end

Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so? Bene. No, you shall pardon me

Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are? Bened. Not now

Beat. That I was disdainfull, and that I had my good wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior Benedicke that said so

Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure you know him well enough

Bene. Not I, beleeue me

Beat. Did he neuer make you laugh? Bene. I pray you what is he? Beat. Why he is the Princes ieaster, a very dull foole, onely his gift is, in deuising impossible slanders, none but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his witte, but in his villanie, for hee both pleaseth men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him: I am sure he is in the Fleet, I would he had boorded me

Bene. When I know the Gentleman, Ile tell him what you say

Beat. Do, do, hee'l but breake a comparison or two on me, which peraduenture (not markt, or not laugh'd at) strikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Partridge wing saued, for the foole will eate no supper that night. We must follow the Leaders

Ben. In euery good thing

Bea. Nay, if they leade to any ill, I will leaue them at the next turning.

Exeunt.

Musicke for the dance.

Iohn. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines

Borachio. And that is Claudio, I know him by his bearing

Iohn. Are not you signior Benedicke? Clau. You know me well, I am hee

Iohn. Signior, you are verie neere my Brother in his loue, he is enamor'd on Hero, I pray you disswade him from her, she is no equall for his birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it

Claudio. How know you he loues her? Iohn. I heard him sweare his affection

Bor. So did I too, and he swore he would marrie her to night

Iohn. Come, let vs to the banquet.

Ex. manet Clau.

Clau. Thus answere I in name of Benedicke, But heare these ill newes with the eares of Claudio: 'Tis certaine so, the Prince woes for himselfe: Friendship is constant in all other things, Saue in the Office and affaires of loue: Therefore all hearts in loue vse their owne tongues. Let euerie eye negotiate for it selfe, And trust no Agent: for beautie is a witch, Against whose charmes, faith melteth into blood: This is an accident of hourely proofe, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero. Enter Benedicke.

Ben. Count Claudio

Clau. Yea, the same

Ben. Come, will you goe with me? Clau. Whither? Ben. Euen to the next Willow, about your own businesse, Count. What fashion will you weare the Garland off? About your necke, like an Vsurers chaine? Or vnder your arme, like a Lieutenants scarfe? You must weare it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero

Clau . I wish him ioy of her

Ben. Why that's spoken like an honest Drouier, so they sel Bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince wold haue serued you thus? Clau. I pray you leaue me

Ben. Ho now you strike like the blindman, 'twas the boy that stole your meate, and you'l beat the post

Clau. If it will not be, Ile leaue you. Enter.

Ben. Alas poore hurt fowle, now will he creepe into sedges: But that my Ladie Beatrice should know me, & not know me: the Princes foole! Hah? It may be I goe vnder that title, because I am merrie: yea but so I am apt to do my selfe wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice, that putt's the world into her person, and so giues me out: well, Ile be reuenged as I may. Enter the Prince.

Pedro. Now Signior, where's the Count, did you see him? Bene. Troth my Lord, I haue played the part of Lady Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a Warren, I told him, and I thinke, told him true, that your grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as being worthy to be whipt

Pedro. To be whipt, what's his fault? Bene. The flat transgression of a Schoole-boy, who being ouer-ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his companion, and he steales it

Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust, a transgression? the transgression is in the stealer

Ben. Yet it had not been amisse the rod had beene made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds nest

Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner

Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith you say honestly

Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrell to you, the Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much wrong'd by you

Bene. O she misusde me past the indurance of a block: an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue answered her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such impossible conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary, and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation followes her. Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.

Pedro. Looke heere she comes

Bene. Will your Grace command mee any seruice to the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment for me? Pedro. None, but to desire your good company

Bene. O God sir, heeres a dish I loue not, I cannot indure this Lady tongue. Enter.

Pedr. Come Lady, come, you haue lost the heart of Signior Benedicke

Beatr. Indeed my Lord, hee lent it me a while, and I gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore your Grace may well say I haue lost it

Pedro. You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put him downe

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, lest I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke

Pedro. Why how now Count, wherfore are you sad? Claud. Not sad my Lord

Pedro. How then? sicke? Claud. Neither, my Lord

Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sicke, nor merry, nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and something of a iealous complexion

Pedro. Ifaith Lady, I thinke your blazon to be true. though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false: heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue thee ioy

Leona. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace say, Amen to it

Beatr. Speake Count, tis your Qu

Claud. Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and doat vpon the exchange

Beat. Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth with a kisse, and let not him speake neither

Pedro. In faith Lady you haue a merry heart

Beatr. Yea my Lord I thanke it, poore foole it keepes on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare that he is in my heart

Clau. And so she doth coosin

Beat. Good Lord for alliance: thus goes euery one to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd, I may sit in a corner and cry, heigh ho for a husband

Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one

Beat. I would rather haue one of your fathers getting: hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them

Prince. Will you haue me? Lady

Beat. No, my Lord, vnlesse I might haue another for working-daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne to speake all mirth, and no matter

Prince. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry, best becomes you, for out of question, you were born in a merry howre

Beatr. No sure my Lord, my Mother cried, but then there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: cosins God giue you ioy