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

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

Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce.

Luce.

Faith no; he comes too late;

O Lord, I must laugh:

And so tell your master.

Dro. E.

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 say, 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?

Let him knock till it ake.

Dro. E. Master, knock the door hard.

Luce.

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 gar

ments 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.

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

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 20.

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, but she will well excuse
Why at this time the doors are made 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 hands you offer to break in,
Now in the stirring passage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made on it;
And that supposed 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.

Ant. E. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet, And, in despight 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. Ant. Do so; This jest shall cost me some ex[Exeunt.

pence.

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 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;
Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger:

Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted;
Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint;
Be secret-false: What need she be acquainted?
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 2, that you love us;