Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: 'Pray God, our cheer

May answer my good will, and your good welcome here.

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

Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish,

A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty

dish.

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

Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words.

Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feast.

Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest:

But though my cates! be mean, take them in good

part;

Better cheer may you have, but not with better

heart.

But, soft; my door is lock'd; Go bid them let us in. Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Jen'!

Dro. S. [Within.] Mome,2 malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch !3

Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch :

Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for such store,

When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door.

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

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

(1) Dishes of meat.

(3) Fool.

(2) Blockhead.

Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the

door.

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

Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner; I have not din'd to-day.

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

Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe ?1

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

Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name;

The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, Thou wouldst have chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass.

Luce. [Within.] What a coil2 is there? Dromio, who are those at the gate?

Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce.

Luce.

Faith, no; he comes too late; And so tell your master. Dro: E O Lord, I must laugh :Have at you with a proverb.-Shall I set in my

staff?

Luce. Have at you with another: that's,-When? can you tell?

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

Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope?

Luce. I thought to have ask'd you.

Dro. S.

And you said, no.

Dro. E. So, come, help; well struck; there

was blow for blow.

Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in.

Luce.

Can you tell for whose sake?

(1) I own, am owner of. (2) Bustle, tumult.

Dro. E. Master, knock the door hard.
Luce.
Let him knock till it ache.
Ant. E. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the
door down.

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

Adr. [Within.] Who is that at the door, that keeps all this noise?

Dro. S. By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys.

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

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

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

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

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

Dro. E. They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.

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

Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.

Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold:

It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold.2

Ant. E. Go, fetch me something, I'll break ope the gate.

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

Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, sir: and words are but wind;

Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.

(1) Have part.

(2) A proverbial phrase.

Dro. S. It seems, thou wantest breaking: Out upon thee, hind!

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

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

Ant. E. Well, I'll break in; Go borrow me a

crow.

Dro. E. A crow without a feather; master, mean you so?

For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather:

If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.

Ant. E. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron

crow.

Bal. Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so;
Herein you war against your reputation,
And draw within the compass of suspect
The unviolated honour of your wife.

Once this,-Your long experience of her wisdom,
Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,

Plead on her part some cause to you unknown;
And doubt not, sir, that she will well excuse
Why at this time the doors are madel against you.
Be rul'd by me; depart in patience,
And let us to the Tiger all to dinner:
And, about evening, come yourself alone,
To know the reason of this strange restraint.
If by strong hand you offer to break in,
Now in the stirring passage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made on it;
And that suppos'd by the common rout
Against your yet ungalled estimation,
That may with foul intrusion enter in,
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead:
For slander lives upon succession;

For ever hous'd, where it once gets possession.

(1) i. e. Made fast.

VOL. III.

Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in

quiet,

And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.
I know a wench of excellent discourse,-
Pretty and witty; wild, and, yet too, gentle;-
There will we dine: this woman that I mean,
My wife (but, I protest, without desert,)
Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal;
To her will we to dinner.-Get you home,
And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made:
Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine;

For there's the house; that chain will I bestow (Be it for nothing but to spite my wife,)

Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste:
Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me.
Ang. I'll meet you at that place, some hour

hence.

expense.*

Ant. E. Do so: This jest shall cost me some [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Enter Luciana, and Antipholus of Syracuse.

Luc. And may it be that you have quite forgot
A husband's office? Shall, Antipholus, hate,
Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs2 rot?
Shall love, in building, grow so ruinate?
If you did wed my sister for her wealth,

Then, for her wealth's sake, use her with more
kindness:

Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth;
Muffle your false love with some show of blind-

ness:

Let not my sister read it in your eye;

Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty;

(1) By this time.

(2) Love-springs are young plants or shoots of love.