E. Ant. While I go to the goldsmith's house

go thou

And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow
Among my wife and her confederates,
For locking me out of my doors by day.-
But foft, I fee the goldfmith:-get thee gone;
Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.
E. Dro. I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy
a rope!
[Exit DROM10,
E. Ant. A man is well holp up, that trufts to
I promised your prefence, and the chain; [you;
But neither chain nor goldfmith, came to me;
Belike, you thought our love would last too long,
If it were chain'd together; and therefore came not.

ng. Saving your merry humour, here's the note,
How much your chain weighs to the utmost carrat;
The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion;
Which do amount to three odd ducats more
Than I ftand debted to this gentleman:
I pray you, fee him presently difcharg'd,
For he is bound to fea, and ftays but for it.
E. Ant. Iam not furnish'd with the prefent money;
Befides, I have some business in the town:
Good fignior, take the ftranger to my houfe,
And with you take the chain, and bid my wife
Disburse the fum on the receipt thereof:
Perchance I will be there as foon as you.

Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourself! E. Ant. No; bear it with you, left I come pot time enough.

Ang. Well, fir, I will: Have you the chain about you?

E. Ant. An if I have not, fir, I hope you have; Or else you may return without your money.

Ang:

Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, fir, give me the chain; Both wind and tide ftays for this gentleman, And I, to blame, have held him here too long. E. Ant. Good lord, you use this dalliance, to exYour breach of promife to the Porcupine: [cufe I fhould have chid you for not bringing it, But, like a fhrew, you first begin to brawl. Mer. The hour steals on; I pray you, fir, dispatch. Ang. You hear, how he importunes me; the chainE. Ant. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your

money.

Ang. Come, come, you know, I gave it you even

now;

Either fend the chain, or fend me by fome token. E. Ant. Fye, now you run this humour out of

breath!

Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me fee it.
Mer. My business cannot brook this dalliance;
Good fir, fay, whe'r you'll answer me, or no;
If not, I'll leave him to the officer.

E. Ant. I answer you! why fhould I answer you?
Ang. The money, that you owe me for the chain.
E. Ant. I owe you none, 'till I receive the chain.
Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour fince.
E. Ant. You gave me none; you wrong me much
to fay fo.

Ang. You wrong me more, fir, in denying it: Confider, how it ftands upon my credit.

Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my fuit.
Offi. I do;

And charge you in the duke's name to obey me,
Ang. This touches me in reputation :—
Either confent to pay the fum for me,

Or I attach you by this officer.

D 3

E. Ant.

E. Ant. Confent to pay for that I never had! Arreft me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'ft.

Ang. Here is thy fee; arreft him, officer;— I would not fpare my brother in this cafe, If he fhould fcorn me so apparently.

Offi. I do arreft you, fir; you hear the fuit. E. Ant. I do obey thee, till I give thee bail:But, firrah, you fhall buy this fport as dear As all the metal in your fhop will anfwer.

Ang. Sir, fir, I fhall have law in Ephefus, To your notorious flame, I doubt it not.

Enter DROMIO of Syracufe, from the Bay. S. Dro. Mafter, there is a bark of Epidamnum, That ftays but till her owner comes aboard, Then, fir, the bears away: our fraughtage, fir, I have convey'd aboard; and I have bought The oil, the balfamum, and aqua-vitæ. The fhip is in her trim; the merry wind Blows fair from land: they ftay for nought at all, But for their owner, master, and yourself.

E. Ant. How now! a madman! why thou peevish What fhip of Epidamnum ftays for me?

[fheep, S. Dro. A fhip you fent me to, to hire waftage. E. Ant. Thou drunken flave, I fent thee for a rope; And told thee to what purpose, and what end.

S. Dro. You fent me for a rope's end as foon: You fent me to the bay, fir, for a bark.

E. Ant. I will debate this matter at more leifure, And teach your ears to lift me with more heed. To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight; Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry, There is a purfe of ducats; let her fend it;

Tell

Tell her, I am arrefted in the street,

And that fhall bail me: hie thee, flave; begone; On, officer, to prifon till it come.

[Exeunt, S. Dro. To Adriana! that is where we din'd, Where Dowfabel did claim me for her husband: She is too big, I hope, for me to compafs. Thither I muft, although against my will, For fervants must their mafters minds fulfil. [Exit.

SCENE II. The Houfe of ANTIPHOLI3 of Ephefus, Enter ADRIANA, and LUCIANA.

Adr. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee fo? Might'ft thou perceive aufterely in his eye That he did plead in earneft, yea or no?

Look'd he or red, or pale; or fad, or merrily? What obfervation mad'ft thou in this cafe, Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face?

Luc. First he deny'd you had in him no right. Adr. He meant, he did me none; the more my fpight.

Luc. Then fwore he, that he was a stranger here. Adr. And true he fwore, though yet for worn he Luc. Then pleaded I for you.

Adr. And what faid he?

[were.

Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me. Adr. With what perfuafion did he tempt thy love? Luc. With words, that in an honest suit might

move.

Firft, he did praife my beauty; then, my speech. Adr. Didft fpeak him fair?

Luc. Have patience, I befeech.

Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me ftill;

Mytongue, though not my heart, fhall have its will.

He

He is deformed, crooked, old, and fere,
Ill-fac'd, worfe-body'd, fhapeless every where;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

Luc. Who would be jealous then of fuch a one! No evil loft is wail'd when it is gone.

Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I fay, And yet, would herein others' eyes were worfe: Far from her neft the lapwing cries away: My heart prays for him, though my tongue

do curfe.

Enter DROMIO of Syracufe.

S. Dro. Here, go; the defk, the purfe; fweet now, make hafte.

Luc. How, haft thou loft thy breath?

S. Dro. By running fast.

Adr. Where is thy mafter, Dromio? is he well? S. Dro. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell: A devil in an everlasting garment hath him, One, whofe hard heart is button'd up with steel; A fiend, a fairy, pitilefs and rough;

A wolf, nay, worfe, a fellow all in buff;

A back-friend, a fhoulder-clapper, one that coun termands

The paffages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands; A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well;

One that, before the judgment, carries poor fouls to
Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? [hell.
S. Dro. I do not know the matter; he is 'refted
on the cafe.

Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whofe fuit.
S. Dro