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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. 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. 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
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 ; 0, let it not be so ;
Be ruld by me; depart in patience,
Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet,
Ang. I'll meet you at that place, some hour hence. Ant. E. Do so; This jest shall cost me some expence,
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-springs 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 kind
Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth ;
Muffle your false love with some show of blindness : Let not my sister read it in your eye ;
Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;
Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger:
Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint;
What simple thief brags of his own attaint? 'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed,
And let her read it in thy looks at board : Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed ;
Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. Alas, poor women! make us but believe,
Being compact of credit, that you love us; Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve;
We in your motion turn, and you may move us. Then, gentle brother, get you in again;
Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife : 'Tis holy sport, to be a little vain,
When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.
Ant. S. Sweet mistress, (what your name is else, I
know not, Nor by what wonder you do hit on mine,) Less, in your knowledge, and your grace, you show not,
Than our earth's wonder; more than earth divine. Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;
Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,
The folded meaning of your words’ deceit. Against my soul's pure truth why labour you,
To make it wander in an unknown field ? Are you a god ? would you create me new ?
Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield. But if that I am I, then well I know,
Your weeping sister is no wife of mine,
Far more, far more, to you do I decline.
To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears ;
Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
And, in that glorious supposition, think,
Let love, being light, be drowned if she sink !
your sight. Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on
Luc. Why call you me love? call my sister so.
Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be.
Ant. S. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I aim thee:
Luc. O, soft, sir, hold you
Enter, from the House of AntiPHOLUS of Ephesus,
DROM10 of Syracuse. Ant. S. Why, how now, Dromio? where run'st thou
Dro. S. Do
know me, sir ? am I Dromio ? am I your man? am I myself?
Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself.
Dro. S. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and besides myself. Ant. S. What woman's man? and how besides thy
self? Dro. S. Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman; one, that claims me; one, that haunts me; one, that will have me.
Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee?