Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. Off. I do, and charge you in the duke's name to obey me. Ang. This touches me in reputation: Either consent to pay this sum for me, Or I attach you by this officer. Ant E. Consent to pay thee that I never had! Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st. Ang. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer:- Off. I do arrest you, sir: you hear the suit. Ang. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, To your notorious shame, I doubt it not. Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum Blows fair from land: they stay for naught at all Ant. E. How now! a madman? Why, thou peevish sheep, What ship of Epidamnum stays for me? Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope; And told thee to what purpose and what end. Dro. S. You sent me, sir, for a rope's end as soon: You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark. Ant. E. I will debate this matter at more leisure, [Exeunt Mer., ANG., Off., and ANT. E. Thither I must, although against my will, SCENE II.-The same. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. Adr. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily? Luc. First, he denied you had him in no right. [Exit. Adr. And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were. Adr. Luc. Have patience, I beseech. Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me still: My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will. Ill-fac'd, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Luc. Who would be jealous then of such a one? No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone. Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I say, Far from her nest the lapwing cries, away: My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Dro. S. Here, go: the desk, the purse: sweet now, make haste. Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath? Dro. S. One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel; A wolf-nay worse, a fellow all in buff; A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands; A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry foot well; One that, before the judgment, carries poor souls to hell. Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? [case. Dro. S. I do not know the matter: he is 'rested on the Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me at whose suit. Dro. S. I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well; But he's in a suit of buff which 'rested him, that can I tell : Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in the desk? Adr. Go fetch it, sister.-This I wonder at, [Exit Luc. That he, unknown to me, should be in debt. Tell me, was he arrested on a band? Dro. S. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing; A chain, a chain: do you not hear it ring? Adr. What, the chain? Dro. S. No, no, the bell: 'tis time that I were gone. It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. Adr. The hours come back! that did I never hear. Dro. S. O yes. If any hour meet a sergeant, 'a turns back for very fear. Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason! Dro. S. Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he's worth to season. Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say Enter LUCIANA. Adr. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it straight; And bring thy master home immediately.Come, sister: I am press'd down with conceit; Conceit my comfort and my injury. SCENE III.-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. [Exeunt. Ant. S. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me As if I were their well-acquainted friend; And every one doth call me by my name. And show'd me silks that he had bought for me, Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Dro. 8. Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have you got the picture of Old Adam new apparelled? Ant. S. What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean? Dro. 8. Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf's-skin that was killed for the Prodigal; he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. Ant. S. I understand thee not. Dro. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went like a base-viol in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men, and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a morris-pike. Ant. S. What! thou mean'st an officer? Dro. S. Ay, sir,-the sergeant of the band: he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, God give you good rest! Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy, Delay: here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you. Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I; And here we wander in illusions: Some blessed power deliver us from hence! Enter a Courtezan. Cour. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now: Is that the chain you promis'd me to-day? Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not! Ant. S. It is the devil. Dro. S. Nay, she is worse-she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench; and thereof comes that the wenches say, God damn me-that's as much as to say, God make me a light wench. It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn: come not near her. Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here. Dro. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon. Ant. S. Why, Dromio? Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil. Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping? Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress: I conjure thee to leave me and be gone. Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd, And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you. Dro. S. Some devils ask but the paring of one's nail, A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, A nut, a cherry-stone; but she, more covetous, Would have a chain. Master, be wise; an' if you give it her, The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it. I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go. Dro. S. Fly pride, says the peacock: Mistress, that you [Exeunt ANT. S. and DRO. S. Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad, know. Else would he never so demean himself: A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, The reason that I gather he is mad,- Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. |