I warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world. Ant. S. What complexion is she of? Dro. S. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like so clean kept; For why? she sweats, a man may go over shoes in the grime of it. Ant. S. That's a fault that water will mend. Dro. S. No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it. Ant. S. What's her name? Dro. S. Nell, sir;-but her name and three quarters, that is, an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip. Ant. S. Then she bears some breadth? Dro. S. No longer from head to foot, than from hip to hip she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out countries in her. Ant. S. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Dro. S. Marry, sir, in her buttocks; I found it out by the bogs. Ant. S. Where Scotland? Dro. S. I found it out by the barrenness; hard, in the palm of the hand. Ant. S. Where France ? Dro. S. In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war against her hair. Ant. S. Where England? Dro. S. I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in them: but I guess, it stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France and it. Ant. S. Where Spain? Dro. S. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it, hot in her breath. Ant. S. Where America, the Indies? Dro. S. O, sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole armadas of carracks to be ballast at her nose. Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands? Dro. S. O, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; called me Dromio; swore, I was assured to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I, VOL. II. 8 amazed, ran from her as a witch: and, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transform'd me to a curtail-dog, and made me turn i' th' wheel. Ant. S. Go, hie thee presently, post to the road'; I will not harbour in this town to-night. Ang. Master Antipholus ? . Ant. S. Ay, that's my name. Ang. I know it well, sir: Lo, here is the chain ; Ant. S. What is your will, that I shall do with this? Ang. What please yourself, sir; I have made it for you. Ant. S. Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not. Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have: Go home with it, and please your wife withal; And soon at supper-time I'll visit you, And then receive my money for the chain. Ant. S. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, For fear you ne'er see chain, nor money, more. Ang. You are a merry man, sir; fare you well. [Exit. Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot tell : I see, a man here needs not live by shifts, [6] Alluding to the superstition of the common people, that nothing could resist a witch's power of transforming men into animals, but a great share of faith. WARBURTON When in the streets he meets such golden gifts. SCENE I.-The same. ACT IV. [Exit. Enter a Merchant, ANGELO, and an Officer. Merchant. YOU know, since Pentecost the sum is due, Ang. Even just the sum, that I do owe to you, And, in the instant that I met with you, Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, and DROMIO of Ephesus. Among my wife and her confederates, For locking me out of my doors by day.- Dro. E. I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy a rope [Exit DROMIO Ant. E. A man is well holp up, that trusts to you: I promised your presence, and the chain; But neither chain, nor goldsmith, came to me : Belike, you thought our love would last too long, If it were chain'd together; and therefore came not. Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the note, How much your chain weighs to the utmost carat ; The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion; Which doth amount to three odd ducats more [7] A gilder is a coin valued from one shilling and six-pence to two shillings.-STEEVENS. STEEVENS. [8] i. e. accruing to me. Than I stand debted to this gentleman : Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present money; Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourself? Ant. E. No; bear it with you, lest I come not time enough. Ang. Well, sir, I will: Have you the chain about you? Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have ; Or else you may return without your money. Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain; Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, And 1, to blame, have held him here too long. Ant. E. Good lord, you use this dalliance, to excuse Your breach of promise to the Porcupine: I should have chid you for not bringing it, But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl. Mer. The hour steals on; I pray you, sir, despatch. Ang. You hear, how he importunes me; the chain— Ant. E. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your money. Ang. Come, come, you know, I gave it you even now; Either send the chain, or send me by some token. Ant. E. Fye! now you run this humour out of breath: Ant. E. I answer you! What should I answer you? Ang. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it : Consider, how it stands upon my credit. Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. Offi. I do; and charge you, in the duke's name, to obey me. Ang. This touches me in reputation :-- Ant. E. Consent to pay thee that I never had! Ang. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer; Offi. I do arrest you, sir; you hear the suit. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum, 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, [Exe. Merchant, ANGELO, Officer, and ANT. E. |