Speeches (Lines) for Antipholus of Syracuse in "The Comedy of Errors"

First Merchant. Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum,
Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate.
This very day a Syracusian merchant
Is apprehended for arrival here;
And not being able to buy out his life
According to the statute of the town,
Dies ere the weary sun set in the west.
There is your money that I had to keep.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host,
And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee.
Within this hour it will be dinner-time:
Till that, I'll view the manners of the town,
Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return and sleep within mine inn,
For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
Get thee away.

Dromio of Syracuse. Many a man would take you at your word,
And go indeed, having so good a mean.

Antipholus of Syracuse. A trusty villain, sir, that very oft,
When I am dull with care and melancholy,
Lightens my humour with his merry jests.
What, will you walk with me about the town,
And then go to my inn and dine with me?

First Merchant. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit;
I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,
Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart
And afterward consort you till bed-time:
My present business calls me from you now.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Farewell till then: I will go lose myself
And wander up and down to view the city.

First Merchant. Sir, I commend you to your own content.

Antipholus of Syracuse. He that commends me to mine own content
Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:
So I, to find a mother and a brother,
In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
[Enter DROMIO of Ephesus]
Here comes the almanac of my true date.
What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon?

Dromio of Ephesus. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late:
The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit,
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
She is so hot because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold because you come not home;
You come not home because you have no stomach;
You have no stomach having broke your fast;
But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray
Are penitent for your default to-day.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray:
Where have you left the money that I gave you?

Dromio of Ephesus. O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last
To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper?
The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I am not in a sportive humour now:
Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?
We being strangers here, how darest thou trust
So great a charge from thine own custody?

Dromio of Ephesus. I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner:
I from my mistress come to you in post;
If I return, I shall be post indeed,
For she will score your fault upon my pate.
Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock,
And strike you home without a messenger.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season;
Reserve them till a merrier hour than this.
Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?

Dromio of Ephesus. To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness,
And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge.

Dromio of Ephesus. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner:
My mistress and her sister stays for you.

Antipholus of Syracuse. In what safe place you have bestow'd my money,
Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours
That stands on tricks when I am undisposed:
Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?

Dromio of Ephesus. I have some marks of yours upon my pate,
Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders,
But not a thousand marks between you both.
If I should pay your worship those again,
Perchance you will not bear them patiently.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?

Dromio of Ephesus. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;
She that doth fast till you come home to dinner,
And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,
Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.

Dromio of Ephesus. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands!
Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Upon my life, by some device or other
The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.
They say this town is full of cozenage,
As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,
Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind,
Soul-killing witches that deform the body,
Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many such-like liberties of sin:
If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave:
I greatly fear my money is not safe.

Luciana. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!

Antipholus of Syracuse. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave
Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out
By computation and mine host's report.
I could not speak with Dromio since at first
I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes.
[Enter DROMIO of Syracuse]
How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
You know no Centaur? you received no gold?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?

Dromio of Syracuse. What answer, sir? when spake I such a word?

Antipholus of Syracuse. Even now, even here, not half an hour since.

Dromio of Syracuse. I did not see you since you sent me hence,
Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. 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 displeased.

Dromio of Syracuse. I am glad to see you in this merry vein:
What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?
Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that.

Dromio of Syracuse. Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest:
Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Antipholus of Syracuse. 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,
But creep in crannies when he hides his beams.
If you will jest with me, know my aspect,
And fashion your demeanor to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

Dromio of Syracuse. Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I
had rather have it a head: an you use these blows
long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce
it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders.
But, I pray, sir why am I beaten?

Antipholus of Syracuse. Dost thou not know?

Dromio of Syracuse. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Shall I tell you why?

Dromio of Syracuse. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath
a wherefore.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore--
For urging it the second time to me.

Dromio of Syracuse. 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 of Syracuse. Thank me, sir, for what?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for
something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?

Dromio of Syracuse. No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have.

Antipholus of Syracuse. In good time, sir; what's that?

Dromio of Syracuse. Basting.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.

Dromio of Syracuse. If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Your reason?

Dromio of Syracuse. Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another
dry basting.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a
time for all things.

Dromio of Syracuse. I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric.

Antipholus of Syracuse. By what rule, sir?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald
pate of father Time himself.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Let's hear it.

Dromio of Syracuse. There's no time for a man to recover his hair that
grows bald by nature.

Antipholus of Syracuse. May he not do it by fine and recovery?

Dromio of Syracuse. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the
lost hair of another man.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is,
so plentiful an excrement?

Dromio of Syracuse. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts;
and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.

Dromio of Syracuse. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

Dromio of Syracuse. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth
it in a kind of jollity.

Antipholus of Syracuse. For what reason?

Dromio of Syracuse. For two; and sound ones too.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Nay, not sound, I pray you.

Dromio of Syracuse. Sure ones, then.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.

Dromio of Syracuse. Certain ones then.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Name them.

Dromio of Syracuse. The one, to save the money that he spends in
trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not
drop in his porridge.

Antipholus of Syracuse. You would all this time have proved there is no
time for all things.

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair
lost by nature.

Antipholus of Syracuse. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no
time to recover.

Dromio of Syracuse. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore
to the world's end will have bald followers.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion:
But, soft! who wafts us yonder?

Adriana. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown:
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects;
I am not Adriana nor thy wife.
The time was once when thou unurged 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,
That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste,
Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee.
How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,
That thou art thus estranged from thyself?
Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
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 mayest thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
And take unmingled that same drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,
As take from me thyself and not me too.
How dearly would it touch me to the quick,
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious
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
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:
For if we too be one and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed;
I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured.

Antipholus of Syracuse. 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,
Want wit in all one word to understand.

Luciana. Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you!
When were you wont to use my sister thus?
She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.

Antipholus of Syracuse. By Dromio?

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 of Syracuse. Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?
What is the course and drift of your compact?

Dromio of Syracuse. I, sir? I never saw her till this time.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Villain, thou liest; for even her very words
Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.

Dromio of Syracuse. I never spake with her in all my life.

Antipholus of Syracuse. How can she thus then call us by our names,
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,
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:
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion
Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.

Antipholus of Syracuse. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme:
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.

Dromio of Syracuse. I am transformed, master, am I not?

Antipholus of Syracuse. I think thou art in mind, and so am I.

Dromio of Syracuse. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Thou hast thine own form.

Adriana. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
To put the finger in the eye and weep,
Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn.
Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate.
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.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised?
Known unto these, and to myself disguised!
I'll say as they say and persever so,
And in this mist at all adventures go.

Luciana. And may it be that you have quite forgot
A husband's office? shall, Antipholus.
Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot?
Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous?
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 blindness:
Let not my sister read it in your eye;
Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;
Look sweet, be 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, 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.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Sweet mistress--what your name is else, I know not,
Nor by what wonder you do hit of 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,
Nor to her bed no homage do I owe
Far more, far more to you do I decline.
O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,
To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears:
Sing, siren, for thyself and I will dote:
Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
And as a bed I'll take them and there lie,
And in that glorious supposition think
He gains by death that hath such means to die:
Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink!

Luciana. What, are you mad, that you do reason so?

Antipholus of Syracuse. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.

Luciana. It is a fault that springeth from your eye.

Antipholus of Syracuse. For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.

Luciana. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight.

Antipholus of Syracuse. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.

Luciana. Why call you me love? call my sister so.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Thy sister's sister.

Luciana. That's my sister.

Antipholus of Syracuse. No;
It is thyself, mine own self's better part,
Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
My food, my fortune and my sweet hope's aim,
My sole earth's heaven and my heaven's claim.

Luciana. All this my sister is, or else should be.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee.
Thee will I love and with thee lead my life:
Thou hast no husband yet nor I no wife.
Give me thy hand.

Luciana. O, soft, air! hold you still:
I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Why, how now, Dromio! where runn'st thou so fast?

Dromio of Syracuse. Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I your man?
am I myself?

Antipholus of Syracuse. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself.

Dromio of Syracuse. I am an ass, I am a woman's man and besides myself.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What woman's man? and how besides thyself? besides thyself?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman; one
that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What claim lays she to thee?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry sir, such claim as you would lay to your
horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I
being a beast, she would have me; but that she,
being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What is she?

Dromio of Syracuse. A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may
not speak of without he say 'Sir-reverence.' I have
but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a
wondrous fat marriage.

Antipholus of Syracuse. How dost thou mean a fat marriage?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen wench and all grease;
and I know not what use to put her to but to make a
lamp of her and run from her by her own light. I
warrant, her rags and the tallow in them will burn a
Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday,
she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What complexion is she of?

Dromio of Syracuse. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing half so
clean kept: for why, she sweats; a man may go over
shoes in the grime of it.

Antipholus of Syracuse. That's a fault that water will mend.

Dromio of Syracuse. No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What's her name?

Dromio of Syracuse. Nell, sir; but her name and three quarters, that's
an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from
hip to hip.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Then she bears some breadth?

Dromio of Syracuse. No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip:
she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out
countries in her.

Antipholus of Syracuse. In what part of her body stands Ireland?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Where Scotland?

Dromio of Syracuse. I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Where France?

Dromio of Syracuse. In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war
against her heir.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Where England?

Dromio of Syracuse. I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no
whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin,
by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Where Spain?

Dromio of Syracuse. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Where America, the Indies?

Dromio of Syracuse. Oh, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellished with
rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich
aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole
armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?

Dromio of Syracuse. Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this
drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me
Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what
privy marks I had about me, as, the mark of my
shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my
left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch:
And, I think, if my breast had not been made of
faith and my heart of steel,
She had transform'd me to a curtal dog and made
me turn i' the wheel.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Go hie thee presently, post to the road:
An if the wind blow any way from shore,
I will not harbour in this town to-night:
If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
Where I will walk till thou return to me.
If every one knows us and we know none,
'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.

Dromio of Syracuse. As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly I from her that would be my wife.

Antipholus of Syracuse. There's none but witches do inhabit here;
And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.
She that doth call me husband, even my soul
Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister,
Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,
Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
Hath almost made me traitor to myself:
But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.

Angelo. Master Antipholus,--

Antipholus of Syracuse. Ay, that's my name.

Angelo. I know it well, sir, lo, here is the chain.
I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine:
The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What is your will that I shall do with this?

Angelo. What please yourself, sir: I have made it for you.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not.

Angelo. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have.
Go home with it and please your wife withal;
And soon at supper-time I'll visit you
And then receive my money for the chain.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I pray you, sir, receive the money now,
For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more.

Angelo. You are a merry man, sir: fare you well.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What I should think of this, I cannot tell:
But this I think, there's no man is so vain
That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.
I see a man here needs not live by shifts,
When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay
If any ship put out, then straight away.

Adriana. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it straight;
And bring thy master home immediately.
Come, sister: I am press'd down with conceit--
Conceit, my comfort and my injury.

Antipholus of Syracuse. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me
As if I were their well-acquainted friend;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender money to me; some invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
Some offer me commodities to buy:
Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop
And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
And therewithal took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles
And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.

Dromio of Syracuse. Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have
you got the picture of old Adam new-apparelled?

Antipholus of Syracuse. What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean?

Dromio of Syracuse. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise but that Adam
that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf's
skin that was killed for the Prodigal; he that came
behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you
forsake your liberty.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I understand thee not.

Dromio of Syracuse. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went, like a
bass-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir,
that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a sob
and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed
men and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up
his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a
morris-pike.

Antipholus of Syracuse. What, thou meanest an officer?

Dromio of Syracuse. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band, he that brings
any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that
thinks a man always going to bed, and says, 'God
give you good rest!'

Antipholus of Syracuse. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any

Dromio of Syracuse. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the
bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were
you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy
Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to
deliver you.

Antipholus of Syracuse. The fellow is distract, and so am I;
And here we wander in illusions:
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!

Courtezan. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
Is that the chain you promised me to-day?

Antipholus of Syracuse. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.

Dromio of Syracuse. Master, is this Mistress Satan?

Antipholus of Syracuse. It is the devil.

Dromio of Syracuse. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat; or bespeak a
long spoon.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Why, Dromio?

Dromio of Syracuse. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with
the devil.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping?
Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress:
I conjure thee to leave me and be gone.

Courtezan. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain:
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.

Officer. Away! they'll kill us.
[Exeunt all but Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio]
of Syracuse]

Antipholus of Syracuse. I see these witches are afraid of swords.

Dromio of Syracuse. She that would be your wife now ran from you.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from thence:
I long that we were safe and sound aboard.

Dromio of Syracuse. Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us
no harm: you saw they speak us fair, give us gold:
methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for
the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of
me, I could find in my heart to stay here still and
turn witch.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I will not stay to-night for all the town;
Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.

Angelo. 'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck
Which he forswore most monstrously to have.
Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him.
Signior Antipholus, I wonder much
That you would put me to this shame and trouble;
And, not without some scandal to yourself,
With circumstance and oaths so to deny
This chain which now you wear so openly:
Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
You have done wrong to this my honest friend,
Who, but for staying on our controversy,
Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day:
This chain you had of me; can you deny it?

Antipholus of Syracuse. I think I had; I never did deny it.

Second Merchant. Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Who heard me to deny it or forswear it?

Second Merchant. These ears of mine, thou know'st did hear thee.
Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity that thou livest
To walk where any honest man resort.

Antipholus of Syracuse. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty
Against thee presently, if thou darest stand.

Dromio of Ephesus. I, sir, am Dromio; pray, let me stay.

Antipholus of Syracuse. AEgeon art thou not? or else his ghost?

Solinus. Why, here begins his morning story right;
These two Antipholuses, these two so like,
And these two Dromios, one in semblance,--
Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,--
These are the parents to these children,
Which accidentally are met together.
Antipholus, thou camest from Corinth first?

Antipholus of Syracuse. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.

Adriana. Which of you two did dine with me to-day?

Antipholus of Syracuse. I, gentle mistress.

Antipholus of Ephesus. No; I say nay to that.

Antipholus of Syracuse. And so do I; yet did she call me so:
And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,
Did call me brother.
[To Luciana]
What I told you then,
I hope I shall have leisure to make good;
If this be not a dream I see and hear.

Angelo. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. I think it be, sir; I deny it not.

Dromio of Ephesus. No, none by me.

Antipholus of Syracuse. This purse of ducats I received from you,
And Dromio, my man, did bring them me.
I see we still did meet each other's man,
And I was ta'en for him, and he for me,
And thereupon these errors are arose.

Dromio of Syracuse. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.

Antipholus of Syracuse. He speaks to me. I am your master, Dromio:
Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon:
Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him.