The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 78
Even now, even here, not half an hour since.
DROMIO S. I did not see you since you sent me hence,
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Home to the Centaur with the gold you gave me.
ANTIPHOLUS S.
Villain, thou didst deny the gold’s receipt,
And told’st me of a mistress and a dinner,
For which I hope thou felt’st I was displeas’d.
DROMIO S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein;
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What means this jest; I pray you master, tell me?
ANTIPHOLUS S.
Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?
Think’st thou I jest? hold, take thou that, and that.
[Beats Dromio.]
DROMIO S.
Hold sir, for God’s sake; now your jest is earnest,
Upon what bargain do you give it me?
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ANTIPHOLUS S. Because that I familiarly sometimes
Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your sauciness will jest upon my love,
And make a common of my serious hours;
When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport,
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But creep in crannies when he hides his beams.
If you will jest with me, know my aspect,
And fashion your demeanour to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.
DROMIO S. Sconce call you it? so you would leave
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battering, I had rather have it a head; and you use
these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and
insconce it too, or else I shall seek my wit in my
shoulders; but I pray, sir, why am I beaten?
ANTIPHOLUS S. Dost thou not know?
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DROMIO S. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Shall I tell you why?
DROMIO S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say, every
why hath a wherefore.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Why, first, for flouting me, and then
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wherefore, for urging it the second time to me.
DROMIO S.
Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,
When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme
nor reason.
Well, sir, I thank you.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Thank me, sir, for what?
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DROMIO S. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave
me for nothing.
ANTIPHOLUS S. I’ll make you amends next, to give you
nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?
DROMIO S. No, sir, I think the meat wants that I have.
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ANTIPHOLUS S. In good time, sir; what’s that?
DROMIO S. Basting.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Well, sir, then ’twill be dry.
DROMIO S. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Your reason?
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DROMIO S. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me
another dry basting.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time;
there’s a time for all things.
DROMIO S. I durst have denied that before you were so
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choleric.
ANTIPHOLUS S. By what rule, sir?
DROMIO S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald
pate of Father Time himself.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Let’s hear it.
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DROMIO S. There’s no time for a man to recover his hair
that grows bald by nature.
ANTIPHOLUS S. May he not do it by fine and recovery?
DROMIO S. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig, and recover
the lost hair of another man.
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ANTIPHOLUS S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair,
being (as it is) so plentiful an excrement?
DROMIO S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on
beasts, and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath
given them in wit.
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ANTIPHOLUS S. Why, but there’s many a man hath more
hair than wit.
DROMIO S. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to
lose his hair.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men
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plain dealers without wit.
DROMIO S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he
loseth it in a kind of jollity.
ANTIPHOLUS S. For what reason?
DROMIO S. For two, and sound ones too.
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ANTIPHOLUS S. Nay, not sound, I pray you.
DROMIO S. Sure ones, then.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Nay, not sure in a thing falsing.
DROMIO S. Certain ones then.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Name them.
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DROMIO S. The one, to save the money that he spends in
tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in
his porridge.
ANTIPHOLUS S. You would all this time have proved,
there is no time for all things.
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DROMIO S. Marry, and did, sir: namely, e’en no time to
recover hair lost by nature.
ANTIPHOLUS S. But your reason was not substantial,
why there is no time to recover.
DROMIO S. This I mend it: Time himself is bald, and
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therefore to the world’s end will have bald followers.
ANTIPHOLUS S. I knew ’twould be a bald conclusion;
but soft, who wafts us yonder?
Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.
ADRIANA Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown,
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects;
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I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.
The time was once when thou unurg’d wouldst vow
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
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That never meat sweet-savour’d in thy taste,
Unless I spake, or look’d, or touch’d, or carv’d to
thee.
How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,
That thou art then estranged from thyself? –
Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
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That undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self’s better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me;
For know, my love, as easy mayst thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
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And take unmingled thence that drop again
Without addition or diminishing,
As take from me thyself, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious?
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And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate?
Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the stain’d skin off my harlot brow,
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And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?
I know thou canst; and therefore, see thou do it!
I am possess’d with an adulterate blot,
My blood is mingled with the crime of lust;
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For if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed,
I live unstain’d, thou undishonoured.
; 145
ANTIPHOLUS S.
Plead you to me fair dame? I know you not.
In Ephesus I am but two hours old,
As strange unto your town as to your talk,
Who, every word by all my wit being scann’d,
Wants wit in all one word to understand.
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LUCIANA
Fie, brother, how the world is chang’d with you.
When were you wont to use my sister thus?
She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
ANTIPHOLUS S. By Dromio?
DROMIO S. By me?
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ADRIANA
By thee, and this thou didst return from him,
That he did buffet thee, and in his blows
Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
ANTIPHOLUS S.
Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?
What is the course and drift of your compact?
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DROMIO S. I, sir? I never saw her till this time.
ANTIPHOLUS S.
Villain, thou liest, for even her very words
Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.
DROMIO S. I never spake with her in all my life.
ANTIPHOLUS S.
How can she thus then call us by our names? –
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Unless it be by inspiration.
ADRIANA How ill agrees it with your gravity
To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood;
Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt,
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But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine;
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness married to thy stronger state,
Makes me with thy strength to communicate:
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If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, briar, or idle moss,
Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion,
Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion.
ANTIPHOLUS S. [aside]
To me she speaks, she moves me for her theme;
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What, was I married to her in my dream?
Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this?
What error drives our eyes and ears amiss?
Until I know this sure uncertainty,
I’ll entertain the offer’d fallacy.
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LUCIANA
Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.
DROMIO S. O for my beads; I cross me for a sinner.
This is the fairy land; O spite of spites,
We talk with goblins, elves and sprites;
If we obey them not, this will ensue –
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They’ll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.
LUCIANA
Why prat’st thou to thy self and answer’st not?
Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot.
DROMIO S. I am transformed, master, am I not?
ANTIPHOLUS S. I think thou art in mind, and so am I.
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DROMIO S. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
ANTIPHOLUS S. Thou hast thine own form.
DROMIO S. No, I am an ape.
LUCIANA If thou art chang’d to aught, ’tis to an ass.
DROMIO S. ’Tis true, she rides me, and I long for grass;
’Tis so, I am an ass, else it could never be
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But I should know her as well as she knows me.
ADRIANA Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
To put the finger in the eye and weep
Whilst man and master laughs my woes to scorn.
Come, sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gate.
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Husband, I’ll dine above with you to-day,
And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.
Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,
Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.
Come, sister; Dromio, play the porter well.
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ANTIPHOLUS S. [aside]
Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Sleeping or waking, mad or well advis’d?
Known unto these, and to myself disguis’d,
I’ll say as they say, and persever so,
And in this mist at all adventures go.
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DROMIO S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate?
ADRIANA Ay, and let none enter, lest I break your pate.
LUCIANA Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.
Exeunt.
3.1 Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, his man DROMIO, ANGELO the goldsmith and BALTHASAR the merchant.
ANTIPHOLUS E.