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Look'd he or pale, or red, or sad, or merry?
What observation, tell me, couldst thou make
Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face?

Luc. First, he denied you had in him a right.
Adr. He meant, he did me none-the more my


Luc. Then swore he, that he was a stranger here. Adr. And true he swore, though yet forsworn he be.

Luc. Then pleaded I for you.

Adr. What said he then ?

Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me. Adr. With what persuasion did he tempt thy love; Luc. With words that in an honest suit might moye First did he praise my beauty, then my speech. Adr. Didst speak him fair?

Luc. Have patience, I beseech you,

Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me still. My tongue, though not my heart, must have its scope. Oh, he is shapeless, crooked, old, and seer, Vicious, ungentle, foolish, rude, unkind, Deform'd in person, more deform'd in soul?


Luc. Yet do not give such way to your affliction, But call your better reason to your aid:Oh, did my brother's mind but mate his Were but his conduct graceful as his visage, What woman might with Adriana boast So vast a fund of hymeneal bliss!

Trust then to time, and fault repairing wisdom, To change his mind; nor soil, with partial breath, A form in nature's fairest colours drest.

Adr. Oh, but I think him better than I say,
And wish him kind and fair to me alone.
Thus, lapwing like, far from my nest I cry,
To puzzle and mislead intruding eyes,
That seek to rob me of my treasur'd bliss,


Dro. of Syr. Here, go !-the desk-the purse!-
sweet now, make haste.

Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath?
Dro. of Syr. By running fast.

Adr. Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?
Dro. of Syr. No, he's in Tartar limbo-a devil hath

One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough;
A back friend; one that commands
The passages of alleys, creeks and lanes.
Adr. Why, man, what is the matter?

Dro. of Syr. I do not know the matter, but he is

Adr. Arrested, is he?-tell me, at whose suit? Dro. of Syr. I do not know at whose suit he is arrested, but arrested he is—and his suit to you is, that you will send him Mistress Redemption, the money

in his desk.


Adr. Go, fetch it, sister.

This I wonder at.

That he, unknown to me, should be in debt.
Tell me, was he arrested on a bond?

Dro. of Syr. No, on the mart.-Come, 'tis time that I were gone.

Enter LUCIANA with a Purse.

Adr. Go, Dromio, there's the money, bear it strait, And bring thy master home immediately.

[Exit DROMIO. Yet wherefore bring him home, since he has lost All token of regard, and slights the place Where, once, he said, his ev'ry comfort dwelt? Why should I wish him here? and yet, without him, What is this home to me?

Luc. Some vague conceit,

The phantom of the moment, hath possest him;
It will away as soon.

Adr. Pray, Heaven, it may;

For till he shake it off, no mate have I,
But jealous doubt, or dark despondency.


The Mart.



Ant. of Syr. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me,

As if I were his well acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me, some invite me,
Some offer me commodities to buy,
While others give me thanks for kindnesses.
Ev'n now a tailor call'd me in his shop,
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And therewithal took measure of my body.
Sure these are but imaginary wiles;
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.


Dro. of Syr. Master, here's the gold you sent me for.-What, have you got rid of the fiend?

Ant. of Syr. What gold is this?-What fiend dost thou mean?

Dro. of Syr. He that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.

Ant. of Syr. Mean'st thou an officer?

Dro. of Syr. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band-he

that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his bond. One that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, Heaven send you good rest!

Ant. of Syr. Well, sir, there rest your foolery!-Is there any ship puts forth to-night? May we begone?

Dro. of Syr. Why, sir, I brought you word, an hour since, that the Bark, Expedition, puts forth tonight; 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. of Syr. The fellow is distract, and so am I ; And here we wander in illusion

Some blessed power deliver us from hence!


Lesbia. Well met, well met, Master Antipholis!
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now,
Is this the bracelet you promis'd me to-day?
Ant. of Syr. What, more temptations?
Mistress, you do impeach your modesty,
Here in the street, thus to commit yourself
Into the hands of one who knows you not.

Lesbia. Not know me ?-how?-Am I not Lesbia And are not you Antipholis?-Nay, jest not; Return with me, and we will mend our cheer.

Ant. of Syr. Have you no bashfulness; no sense of shame:


No touch of modesty? Why will
you tear
Ungentle words from my reluctant tongue ?
Lesbia. I would not do so, good Antipholis ;
I do but ask for what you promis'd me.

Ant. of Syr. I promis'd thee?

Lesbia. Ay, as we sat at dinner.

Ant. of Syr. I ne'er beheld thy face until this in


Lesbia. And told'st me that thy wife-
Ant. of Syr. My wife?-thou sorceress !

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Dro. of Syr. Master, you certainly have been mar


And have forgot it.

Lesbia. Say, did you not, Antipholis ?
Ant. of Syr. I tell thee, no.

Lesbia. Nor take my ring?

Ant. of Syr. No, no-nor comprehend
What thy false tongue hath utter'd.-Dromio,
Follow me to our inn-I will not stay,
Nor longer listen to thy sorceries.

[Exit.-LESBIA, offering to follow. Dro. of Syr. No, you don't. [Draws.] Here's my charm against witches.-Mistress, it is written that evil spirits appear to men like angels of light. Light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn.-Ergo-light wenches will burn-therefore we will not trust ourselves near you.

[Exit. Lesbia. Now out of doubt, Antipholis is mad, Else would he never so demean himself.

A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
And for the same, he promis'd me a bracelet;

Both one and other he denies me now.

What then remains! what measures shall I take?
My way is now to hie home to his house,
And tell his wife, that, being lunatic,

He rush'd into my house, and took, perforce,

My ring away-This course I fittest chuse,

To right myself against this madman's wrong. [Exit.


The Mart.


Ant. of Eph. Fear me not, man! I will not break


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