| ACT IV SCENE III | A public place. | |
| [Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse] |
| 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; | 5 |
| 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 | 10 |
| And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. |
| [Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE] |
| 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 | 15 |
| 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. | 20 |
| 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 | 25 |
| 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 | 30 |
| 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 | 35 |
| 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: | 40 |
| Some blessed power deliver us from hence! |
| [Enter a Courtezan] |
| 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. | 45 |
| DROMIO OF SYRACUSE | Master, is this Mistress Satan? |
| ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE | It is the devil. |
| DROMIO OF SYRACUSE | Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here |
| she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof |
| comes that the wenches say 'God damn me;' that's as | 50 |
| much to say 'God make me a light wench.' It is |
| written, they appear to men like angels of light: |
| light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; |
| ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her. |
| Courtezan | Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. | 55 |
| Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here? |
| 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 | 60 |
| 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 | Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, | 65 |
| Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised, |
| And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you. |
| DROMIO OF SYRACUSE | Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail, |
| A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, |
| A nut, a cherry-stone; | 70 |
| But she, more covetous, would have a chain. |
| Master, be wise: an if you give it her, |
| The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it. |
| Courtezan | I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain: |
| I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. | 75 |
| ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE | Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go. |
| DROMIO OF SYRACUSE | 'Fly pride,' says the peacock: mistress, that you know. |
| [Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse] |
| Courtezan | Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad, |
| Else would he never so demean himself. |
| A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, | 80 |
| And for the same he promised me a chain: |
| Both one and other he denies me now. |
| The reason that I gather he is mad, |
| Besides this present instance of his rage, |
| Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner, | 85 |
| Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. |
| Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits, |
| On purpose shut the doors against his way. |
| My way is now to hie home to his house, |
| And tell his wife that, being lunatic, | 90 |
| He rush'd into my house and took perforce |
| My ring away. This course I fittest choose; |
| For forty ducats is too much to lose. |
| [Exit] |