Enter.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Duke and Frier Peter.
Duke. These Letters at fit time deliuer me,The Prouost knowes our purpose and our plot,The matter being a foote, keepe your instructionAnd hold you euer to our speciall drift,Though sometimes you doe blench from this to thatAs cause doth minister: Goe call at Flauia's house,And tell him where I stay: giue the like noticeTo Valencius, Rowland, and to Crassus,And bid them bring the Trumpets to the gate:But send me Flauius first
Peter. It shall be speeded well.
Enter Varrius.
Duke. I thank thee Varrius, thou hast made good hast,Come, we will walke: There's other of our friendsWill greet vs heere anon: my gentle Varrius.
Exeunt.
Scena Sexta.
Enter Isabella and Mariana.
Isab. To speake so indirectly I am loath,I would say the truth, but to accuse him soThat is your part, yet I am aduis'd to doe it,He saies, to vaile full purpose
Mar. Be rul'd by him
Isab. Besides he tells me, that if peraduentureHe speake against me on the aduerse side,I should not thinke it strange, for 'tis a physickeThat's bitter, to sweet end.
Enter Peter.
Mar. I would Frier PeterIsab. Oh peace, the Frier is come
Peter. Come I haue found you out a stand most fit,Where you may haue such vantage on the DukeHe shall not passe you:Twice haue the Trumpets sounded.The generous, and grauest CitizensHaue hent the gates, and very neere vponThe Duke is entring:Therefore hence away.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Esculus, Lucio, Citizens at seuerall doores.
Duk. My very worthy Cosen, fairely met,Our old, and faithfull friend, we are glad to see you
Ang. Esc. Happy returne be to your royall grace
Duk. Many and harty thankings to you both:We haue made enquiry of you, and we heareSuch goodnesse of your Iustice, that our souleCannot but yeeld you forth to publique thankesForerunning more requitall
Ang. You make my bonds still greater
Duk. Oh your desert speaks loud, & I should wrong itTo locke it in the wards of couert bosomeWhen it deserues with characters of brasseA forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time,And razure of obliuion: Giue we your handAnd let the Subiect see, to make them knowThat outward curtesies would faine proclaimeFauours that keepe within: Come Escalus,You must walke by vs, on our other hand:And good supporters are you.
Enter Peter and Isabella.
Peter. Now is your timeSpeake loud, and kneele before him
Isab. Iustice, O royall Duke, vaile your regardVpon a wrong'd (I would faine haue said a Maid)Oh worthy Prince, dishonor not your eyeBy throwing it on any other obiect,Till you haue heard me, in my true complaint,And giuen me Iustice, Iustice, Iustice, Iustice
Duk. Relate your wrongs;In what, by whom? be briefe:Here is Lord Angelo shall giue you Iustice,Reueale your selfe to him
Isab. Oh worthy Duke,You bid me seeke redemption of the diuell,Heare me your selfe: for that which I must speakeMust either punish me, not being beleeu'd,Or wring redresse from you:Heare me: oh heare me, heere
Ang. My Lord, her wits I feare me are not firme:She hath bin a suitor to me, for her BrotherCut off by course of Iustice
Isab. By course of Iustice
Ang. And she will speake most bitterly, and strange
Isab. Most strange: but yet most truely wil I speake,That Angelo's forsworne, is it not strange?That Angelo's a murtherer, is't not strange?That Angelo is an adulterous thiefe,An hypocrite, a virgin violator,Is it not strange? and strange?Duke. Nay it is ten times strange?Isa. It is not truer he is Angelo,Then this is all as true, as it is strange;Nay, it is ten times true, for truth is truthTo th' end of reckning
Duke. Away with her: poore souleShe speakes this, in th' infirmity of sence
Isa. Oh Prince, I coniure thee, as thou beleeu'stThere is another comfort, then this world,That thou neglect me not, with that opinionThat I am touch'd with madnesse: make not impossibleThat which but seemes vnlike, 'tis not impossibleBut one, the wickedst caitiffe on the groundMay seeme as shie, as graue, as iust, as absolute:As Angelo, euen so may AngeloIn all his dressings, caracts, titles, formes,Be an arch-villaine: Beleeue it, royall PrinceIf he be lesse, he's nothing, but he's more,Had I more name for badnesse
Duke. By mine honestyIf she be mad, as I beleeue no other,Her madnesse hath the oddest frame of sense,Such a dependancy of thing, on thing,As ere I heard in madnesse
Isab. Oh gracious DukeHarpe not on that; nor do not banish reasonFor inequality, but let your reason serueTo make the truth appeare, where it seemes hid,And hide the false seemes true
Duk. Many that are not madHaue sure more lacke of reason:What would you say?Isab. I am the Sister of one Claudio,Condemnd vpon the Act of FornicationTo loose his head, condemn'd by Angelo,I, (in probation of a Sisterhood)Was sent to by my Brother; one LucioAs then the Messenger
Luc. That's I, and't like your Grace:I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her,To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo,For her poore Brothers pardon
Isab. That's he indeede
Duk. You were not bid to speake
Luc. No, my good Lord,Nor wish'd to hold my peace
Duk. I wish you now then,Pray you take note of it: and when you haueA businesse for your selfe: pray heauen you thenBe perfect
Luc. I warrant your honor
Duk. The warrant's for your selfe: take heede to't
Isab. This Gentleman told somewhat of my Tale
Luc. Right
Duk. It may be right, but you are i'the wrongTo speake before your time: proceed,Isab. I wentTo this pernicious Caitiffe Deputie
Duk. That's somewhat madly spoken
Isab. Pardon it,The phrase is to the matter
Duke. Mended againe: the matter: proceed
Isab. In briefe, to set the needlesse processe by:How I perswaded, how I praid, and kneel'd,How he refeld me, and how I replide(For this was of much length) the vild conclusionI now begin with griefe, and shame to vtter.He would not, but by gift of my chaste bodyTo his concupiscible intemperate lustRelease my brother; and after much debatement,My sisterly remorse, confutes mine honour,And I did yeeld to him: But the next morne betimes,His purpose surfetting, he sends a warrantFor my poore brothers head
Duke. This is most likely
Isab. Oh that it were as like as it is true
Duk. By heauen (fond wretch) y knowst not what thou speak'st,Or else thou art suborn'd against his honorIn hatefull practise: first his IntegritieStands without blemish: next it imports no reason,That with such vehemency he should pursueFaults proper to himselfe: if he had so offendedHe would haue waigh'd thy brother by himselfe,And not haue cut him off: some one hath set you on:Confesse the truth, and say by whose aduiceThou cam'st heere to complaine
Isab. And is this all?Then oh you blessed Ministers aboueKeepe me in patience, and with ripened timeVnfold the euill, which is heere wrapt vpIn countenance: heauen shield your Grace from woe,As I thus wrong'd, hence vnbeleeued goe
Duke. I know you'ld faine be gone: An Officer:To prison with her: Shall we thus permitA blasting and a scandalous breath to fall,On him so neere vs? This needs must be a practise:Who knew of your intent and comming hither?Isa. One that I would were heere, Frier Lodowick
Duk. A ghostly Father, belike:Who knowes that Lodowicke?Luc. My Lord, I know him, 'tis a medling Fryer,I doe not like the man: had he been Lay my Lord,For certaine words he spake against your GraceIn your retirment, I had swing'd him soundly
Duke. Words against mee? this' a good Fryer belikeAnd to set on this wretched woman hereAgainst our Substitute: Let this Fryer be found
Luc. But yesternight my Lord, she and that FryerI saw them at the prison: a sawcy Fryar,A very scuruy fellow
Peter. Blessed be your Royall Grace:I haue stood by my Lord, and I haue heardYour royall eare abus'd: first hath this womanMost wrongfully accus'd your Substitute,Who is as free from touch, or soyle with herAs she from one vngot
Duke. We did beleeue no lesse.Know you that Frier Lodowick that she speakes of?Peter. I know him for a man diuine and holy,Not scuruy, nor a temporary medlerAs he's reported by this Gentleman:And on my trust, a man that neuer yetDid (as he vouches) mis-report your Grace
Luc. My Lord, most villanously, beleeue it
Peter. Well: he in time may come to cleere himselfe;But at this instant he is sicke, my Lord:Of a strange Feauor: vpon his meere requestBeing come to knowledge, that there was complaintIntended 'gainst Lord Angelo, came I hetherTo speake as from his mouth, what he doth knowIs true, and false: And what he with his oathAnd all probation will make vp full cleareWhensoeuer he's conuented: First for this woman,To iustifie this worthy Noble manSo vulgarly and personally accus'd,Her shall you heare disproued to her eyes,Till she her selfe confesse it
Duk. Good Frier, let's heare it:Doe you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?Oh heauen, the vanity of wretched fooles.Giue vs some seates, Come cosen Angelo,In this I'll be impartiall: be you IudgeOf your owne Cause: Is this the Witnes Frier?
Enter Mariana.
First, let her shew your face, and after, speake
Mar. Pardon my Lord, I will not shew my faceVntill my husband bid me
Duke. What, are you married?Mar. No my Lord
Duke. Are you a Maid?Mar. No my Lord
Duk. A Widow then?Mar. Neither, my Lord
Duk. Why you are nothing then: neither Maid, Widow,nor Wife?Luc. My Lord, she may be a Puncke: for many ofthem, are neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife
Duk. Silence that fellow: I would he had some causeto prattle for himselfe
Luc. Well my Lord
Mar. My Lord, I doe confesse I nere was married,And I confesse besides, I am no Maid,I haue known my husband, yet my husbandKnowes not, that euer he knew me
Luc. He was drunk then, my Lord, it can be no better
Duk. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so to
Luc. Well, my Lord
Duk. This is no witnesse for Lord Angelo
Mar. Now I come to't, my Lord.Shee that accuses him of Fornication,In selfe-same manner, doth accuse my husband,And charges him, my Lord, with such a time,When I'le depose I had him in mine ArmesWith all th' effect of Loue
Ang. Charges she moe then me?Mar. Not that I know
Duk. No? you say your husband
Mar. Why iust, my Lord, and that is Angelo,Who thinkes he knowes, that he nere knew my body,But knows, he thinkes, that he knowes Isabels
Ang. This is a strange abuse: Let's see thy face
Mar. My husband bids me, now I will vnmaske.This is that face, thou cruell AngeloWhich once thou sworst, was worth the looking on:This is the hand, which with a vowd contractWas fast belockt in thine: This is the bodyThat tooke away the match from Isabell,And did supply thee at thy garden-houseIn her Imagin'd person
Duke. Know you this woman?Luc. Carnallie she saies
Duk. Sirha, no more
Luc. Enough my Lord
Ang. My Lord, I must confesse, I know this woman,And fiue yeres since there was some speech of marriageBetwixt my selfe, and her: which was broke off,Partly for that her promis'd proportionsCame short of Composition: But in chiefeFor that her reputation was dis-valuedIn leuitie: Since which time of fiue yeresI neuer spake with her, saw her, nor heard from herVpon my faith, and honor
Mar. Noble Prince,As there comes light from heauen, and words fro[m] breath,As there is sence in truth, and truth in vertue,I am affianced this mans wife, as stronglyAs words could make vp vowes: And my good Lord,But Tuesday night last gon, in's garden house,He knew me as a wife. As this is true,Let me in safety raise me from my knees,Or else for euer be confixed hereA Marble Monument
Ang. I did but smile till now,Now, good my Lord, giue me the scope of Iustice,My patience here is touch'd: I doe perceiueThese poore informall women, are no moreBut instruments of some more mightier memberThat sets them on. Let me haue way, my LordTo finde this practise out
Duke. I, with my heart,And punish them to your height of pleasure.Thou foolish Frier, and thou pernicious womanCompact with her that's gone: thinkst thou, thy oathes,Though they would swear downe each particular Saint,Were testimonies against his worth, and creditThat's seald in approbation? you, Lord EscalusSit with my Cozen, lend him your kinde painesTo finde out this abuse, whence 'tis deriu'd.There is another Frier that set them on,Let him be sent for
Peter. Would he were here, my Lord, for he indeedHath set the women on to this Complaint;Your Prouost knowes the place where he abides,And he may fetch him
Duke. Goe, doe it instantly:And you, my noble and well-warranted CosenWhom it concernes to heare this matter forth,Doe with your iniuries as seemes you bestIn any chastisement; I for a whileWill leaue you; but stir not you till you haueWell determin'd vpon these Slanderers.
Enter.
Esc. My Lord, wee'll doe it throughly: Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Frier Lodowick to be a dishonest person? Luc. Cucullus non facit Monachum, honest in nothing but in his Clothes, and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the Duke
Esc. We shall intreat you to abide heere till he come, and inforce them against him: we shall finde this Frier a notable fellow
Luc. As any in Vienna, on my word
Esc. Call that same Isabell here once againe, I would speake with her: pray you, my Lord, giue mee leaue to question, you shall see how Ile handle her
Luc. Not better then he, by her owne report
Esc. Say you?Luc. Marry sir, I thinke, if you handled her priuatelyShe would sooner confesse, perchance publikely she'll beasham'd.
Enter Duke, Prouost, Isabella
Esc. I will goe darkely to worke with her
Luc. That's the way: for women are light at midnight
Esc. Come on Mistris, here's a Gentlewoman,Denies all that you haue said
Luc. My Lord, here comes the rascall I spoke of,Here, with the Prouost
Esc. In very good time: speake not you to him, tillwe call vpon you
Luc. Mum
Esc. Come Sir, did you set these women on to slanderLord Angelo? they haue confes'd you did
Duk. 'Tis false
Esc. How? Know you where you are?Duk. Respect to your great place; and let the diuellBe sometime honour'd, for his burning throne.Where is the Duke? 'tis he should heare me speake
Esc. The Duke's in vs: and we will heare you speake,Looke you speake iustly
Duk. Boldly, at least. But oh poore soules,Come you to seeke the Lamb here of the Fox;Good night to your redresse: Is the Duke gone?Then is your cause gone too: The Duke's vniust,Thus to retort your manifest Appeale,And put your triall in the villaines mouth,Which here you come to accuse
Luc. This is the rascall: this is he I spoke of
Esc. Why thou vnreuerend, and vnhallowed Fryer:Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women,To accuse this worthy man? but in foule mouth,And in the witnesse of his proper eare,To call him villaine; and then to glance from him,To th'Duke himselfe, to taxe him with Iniustice?Take him hence; to th' racke with him: we'll towze youIoynt by ioynt, but we will know his purpose:What? vniust?Duk. Be not so hot: the Duke dareNo more stretch this finger of mine, then heDare racke his owne: his Subiect am I not,Nor here Prouinciall: My businesse in this StateMade me a looker on here in Vienna,Where I haue seene corruption boyle and bubble,Till it ore-run the Stew: Lawes, for all faults,But faults so countenanc'd, that the strong StatutesStand like the forfeites in a Barbers shop,As much in mocke, as marke
Esc. Slander to th' State:Away with him to prison
Ang. What can you vouch against him Signior Lucio?Is this the man you did tell vs of?Luc. 'Tis he, my Lord: come hither goodman bald-pate,doe you know me?Duk. I remember you Sir, by the sound of your voice,I met you at the Prison, in the absence of the Duke
Luc. Oh, did you so? and do you remember what yousaid of the Duke
Duk. Most notedly Sir
Luc. Do you so Sir: And was the Duke a flesh-monger, a foole, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? Duk. You must (Sir) change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you indeede spoke so of him, and much more, much worse
Luc. Oh thou damnable fellow: did I not plucke theeby the nose, for thy speeches?Duk. I protest, I loue the Duke, as I loue my selfe
Ang. Harke how the villaine would close now, afterhis treasonable abuses
Esc. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withall: Away with him to prison: Where is the Prouost? away with him to prison: lay bolts enough vpon him: let him speak no more: away with those Giglets too, and with the other confederate companion
Duk. Stay Sir, stay a while
Ang. What, resists he? helpe him Lucio
Luc. Come sir, come sir, come sir: foh sir, why you bald-pated lying rascall: you must be hooded must you? show your knaues visage with a poxe to you: show your sheepe-biting face, and be hang'd an houre: Will't not off? Duk. Thou art the first knaue, that ere mad'st a Duke. First Prouost, let me bayle these gentle three: Sneake not away Sir, for the Fryer, and you, Must haue a word anon: lay hold on him
Luc. This may proue worse then hanging
Duk. What you haue spoke, I pardon: sit you downe,We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your leaue:Ha'st thou or word, or wit, or impudence,That yet can doe thee office? If thou ha'stRely vpon it, till my tale be heard,And hold no longer out
Ang. Oh, my dread Lord,I should be guiltier then my guiltinesse,To thinke I can be vndiscerneable,When I perceiue your grace, like powre diuine,Hath look'd vpon my passes. Then good Prince,No longer Session hold vpon my shame,But let my Triall, be mine owne Confession:Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,Is all the grace I beg
Duk. Come hither Mariana,Say: was't thou ere contracted to this woman?Ang. I was my Lord
Duk. Goe take her hence, and marry her instantly.Doe you the office (Fryer) which consummate,Returne him here againe: goe with him Prouost.
Enter.
Esc. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonor,Then at the strangenesse of it
Duk. Come hither Isabell,Your Frier is now your Prince: As I was thenAduertysing, and holy to your businesse,(Not changing heart with habit) I am still,Atturnied at your seruice
Isab. Oh giue me pardonThat I, your vassaile, haue imploid, and pain'dYour vnknowne Soueraigntie
Duk. You are pardon'd Isabell:And now, deere Maide, be you as free to vs.Your Brothers death I know sits at your heart:And you may maruaile, why I obscur'd my selfe,Labouring to saue his life: and would not ratherMake rash remonstrance of my hidden powre,Then let him so be lost: oh most kinde Maid,It was the swift celeritie of his death,Which I did thinke, with slower foot came on,That brain'd my purpose: but peace be with him,That life is better life past fearing death,Then that which liues to feare: make it your comfort,So happy is your Brother.
Enter Angelo, Maria, Peter, Prouost.
Isab. I doe my Lord
Duk. For this new-maried man, approaching here,Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'dYour well defended honor: you must pardonFor Mariana's sake: But as he adiudg'd your Brother,Being criminall, in double violationOf sacred Chastitie, and of promise-breach,Thereon dependant for your Brothers life,The very mercy of the Law cries outMost audible, euen from his proper tongue.An Angelo for Claudio, death for death:Haste still paies haste, and leasure, answers leasure;Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure:Then Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested;Which though thou would'st deny, denies thee vantage.We doe condemne thee to the very BlockeWhere Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.Away with him
Mar. Oh my most gracious Lord,I hope you will not mocke me with a husband?Duk. It is your husband mock't you with a husband,Consenting to the safe-guard of your honor,I thought your marriage fit: else Imputation,For that he knew you, might reproach your life,And choake your good to come: For his Possessions,Although by confutation they are ours;We doe en-state, and widow you with all,To buy you a better husband
Mar. Oh my deere Lord,I craue no other, nor no better man
Duke. Neuer craue him, we are definitiue
Mar. Gentle my Liege
Duke. You doe but loose your labour.Away with him to death: Now Sir, to you
Mar. Oh my good Lord, sweet Isabell, take my part,Lend me your knees, and all my life to come,I'll lend you all my life to doe you seruice
Duke. Against all sence you doe importune her,Should she kneele downe, in mercie of this fact,Her Brothers ghost, his paued bed would breake,And take her hence in horror
Mar. Isabell:Sweet Isabel, doe yet but kneele by me,Hold vp your hands, say nothing: I'll speake all.They say best men are moulded out of faults,And for the most, become much more the betterFor being a little bad: So may my husband.Oh Isabel: will you not lend a knee?Duke. He dies for Claudio's death
Isab. Most bounteous Sir.Looke if it please you, on this man condemn'd,As if my Brother liu'd: I partly thinke,A due sinceritie gouerned his deedes,Till he did looke on me: Since it is so,Let him not die: my Brother had but Iustice,In that he did the thing for which he dide.For Angelo, his Act did not ore-take his bad intent,And must be buried but as an intentThat perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subiectsIntents, but meerely thoughts
Mar. Meerely my Lord
Duk. Your suite's vnprofitable: stand vp I say:I haue bethought me of another fault.Prouost, how came it Claudio was beheadedAt an vnusuall howre?Pro. It was commanded so
Duke. Had you a speciall warrant for the deed?Pro. No my good Lord: it was by priuate message
Duk. For which I doe discharge you of your office,Giue vp your keyes
Pro. Pardon me, noble Lord,I thought it was a fault, but knew it not,Yet did repent me after more aduice,For testimony whereof, one in the prisonThat should by priuate order else haue dide,I haue reseru'd aliue
Duk. What's he?Pro. His name is Barnardine
Duke. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio:Goe fetch him hither, let me looke vpon him
Esc. I am sorry, one so learned, and so wiseAs you, Lord Angelo, haue stil appear'd,Should slip so grosselie, both in the heat of bloudAnd lacke of temper'd iudgement afterward
Ang. I am sorrie, that such sorrow I procure,And so deepe sticks it in my penitent heart,That I craue death more willingly then mercy,'Tis my deseruing, and I doe entreat it.
Enter Barnardine and Prouost, Claudio, Iulietta.
Duke. Which is that Barnardine?Pro. This my Lord
Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man.Sirha, thou art said to haue a stubborne souleThat apprehends no further then this world,And squar'st thy life according: Thou'rt condemn'd,But for those earthly faults, I quit them all,And pray thee take this mercie to prouideFor better times to come: Frier aduise him,I leaue him to your hand. What muffeld fellow's that?Pro. This is another prisoner that I sau'd,Who should haue di'd when Claudio lost his head,As like almost to Claudio, as himselfe
Duke. If he be like your brother, for his sakeIs he pardon'd, and for your louelie sakeGiue me your hand, and say you will be mine,He is my brother too: But fitter time for that:By this Lord Angelo perceiues he's safe,Methinkes I see a quickning in his eye:Well Angelo, your euill quits you well.Looke that you loue your wife: her worth, worth yoursI finde an apt remission in my selfe:And yet heere's one in place I cannot pardon,You sirha, that knew me for a foole, a Coward,One all of Luxurie, an asse, a mad man:Wherein haue I so deseru'd of youThat you extoll me thus?Luc. 'Faith my Lord, I spoke it but according to thetrick: if you will hang me for it you may: but I had ratherit would please you, I might be whipt
Duke. Whipt first, sir, and hang'd after.Proclaime it Prouost round about the Citie,If any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow(As I haue heard him sweare himselfe there's onewhom he begot with childe) let her appeare,And he shall marry her: the nuptiall finish'd,Let him be whipt and hang'd
Luc. I beseech your Highnesse doe not marry me to a Whore: your Highnesse said euen now I made you a Duke, good my Lord do not recompence me, in making me a Cuckold
Duke. Vpon mine honor thou shalt marrie her.Thy slanders I forgiue, and therewithallRemit thy other forfeits: take him to prison,And see our pleasure herein executed
Luc. Marrying a punke my Lord, is pressing to death,Whipping and hanging
Duke. Slandering a Prince deserues it.She Claudio that you wrong'd, looke you restore.Ioy to you Mariana, loue her Angelo:I haue confes'd her, and I know her vertue.Thanks good friend, Escalus, for thy much goodnesse,There's more behinde that is more gratulate.Thanks Prouost for thy care, and secrecie,We shall imploy thee in a worthier place.Forgiue him Angelo, that brought you homeThe head of Ragozine for Claudio's,Th' offence pardons it selfe. Deere Isabell,I haue a motion much imports your good,Whereto if you'll a willing eare incline;What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.So bring vs to our Pallace, where wee'll showWhat's yet behinde, that meete you all should know.
The Scene Vienna.
The names of all the Actors.
Vincentio: the Duke.Angelo, the Deputie.Escalus, an ancient Lord.Claudio, a yong Gentleman.Lucio, a fantastique.2. Other like Gentlemen.Prouost.Thomas. 2. Friers.Peter.Elbow, a simple Constable.Froth, a foolish Gentleman.Clowne.Abhorson, an Executioner.Barnardine, a dissolute prisoner.Isabella, sister to Claudio.Mariana, betrothed to Angelo.Iuliet, beloued of Claudio.Francisca, a Nun.Mistris Ouer-don, a Bawd.
FINIS. MEASVRE, For Measure.
The Comedie of Errors
Actus primus, Scena prima.
Enter the Duke of Ephesus, with the Merchant of Siracusa, Iaylor, and other attendants.
Marchant. Proceed Solinus to procure my fall,And by the doome of death end woes and all
Duke. Merchant of Siracusa, plead no more.I am not partiall to infringe our Lawes;The enmity and discord which of lateSprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke,To Merchants our well-dealing Countrimen,Who wanting gilders to redeeme their liues,Haue seal'd his rigorous statutes with their blouds,Excludes all pitty from our threatning lookes:For since the mortall and intestine iarresTwixt thy seditious Countrimen and vs,It hath in solemne Synodes beene decreed,Both by the Siracusians and our selues,To admit no trafficke to our aduerse townes:Nay more, if any borne at EphesusBe seene at any Siracusian Marts and Fayres:Againe, if any Siracusian borneCome to the Bay of Ephesus, he dies:His goods confiscate to the Dukes dispose,Vnlesse a thousand markes be leuiedTo quit the penalty, and to ransome him:Thy substance, valued at the highest rate,Cannot amount vnto a hundred Markes,Therefore by Law thou art condemn'd to die
Mer. Yet this my comfort, when your words are done,My woes end likewise with the euening Sonne
Duk. Well Siracusian; say in briefe the causeWhy thou departedst from thy natiue home?And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus
Mer. A heauier taske could not haue beene impos'd,Then I to speake my griefes vnspeakeable:Yet that the world may witnesse that my endWas wrought by nature, not by vile offence,Ile vtter what my sorrow giues me leaue.In Syracusa was I borne, and weddeVnto a woman, happy but for me,And by me; had not our hap beene bad:With her I liu'd in ioy, our wealth increastBy prosperous voyages I often madeTo Epidamium, till my factors death,And he great care of goods at randone left,Drew me from kinde embracements of my spouse;From whom my absence was not sixe moneths olde,Before her selfe (almost at fainting vnderThe pleasing punishment that women beare)Had made prouision for her following me,And soone, and safe, arriued where I was:There had she not beene long, but she becameA ioyfull mother of two goodly sonnes:And, which was strange, the one so like the other,As could not be distinguish'd but by names.That very howre, and in the selfe-same Inne,A meane woman was deliueredOf such a burthen Male, twins both alike:Those, for their parents were exceeding poore,I bought, and brought vp to attend my sonnes.My wife, not meanely prowd of two such boyes,Made daily motions for our home returne:Vnwilling I agreed, alas, too soone wee came aboord.A league from Epidamium had we saildBefore the alwaies winde-obeying deepeGaue any Tragicke Instance of our harme:But longer did we not retaine much hope;For what obscured light the heauens did grant,Did but conuay vnto our fearefull mindesA doubtfull warrant of immediate death,Which though my selfe would gladly haue imbrac'd,Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,Weeping before for what she saw must come,And pitteous playnings of the prettie babesThat mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to feare,Forst me to seeke delayes for them and me,And this it was: (for other meanes was none)The Sailors sought for safety by our boate,And left the ship then sinking ripe to vs.My wife, more carefull for the latter borne,Had fastned him vnto a small spare Mast,Such as sea-faring men prouide for stormes:To him one of the other twins was bound,Whil'st I had beene like heedfull of the other.The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I,Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixt,Fastned our selues at eyther end the mast,And floating straight, obedient to the streame,Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought.At length the sonne gazing vpon the earth,Disperst those vapours that offended vs,And by the benefit of his wished lightThe seas waxt calme, and we discoueredTwo shippes from farre, making amaine to vs:Of Corinth that, of Epidarus this,But ere they came, oh let me say no more,Gather the sequell by that went before
Duk. Nay forward old man, doe not breake off so,For we may pitty, though not pardon thee
Merch. Oh had the gods done so, I had not nowWorthily tearm'd them mercilesse to vs:For ere the ships could meet by twice fiue leagues,We were encountred by a mighty rocke,Which being violently borne vp,Our helpefull ship was splitted in the midst;So that in this vniust diuorce of vs,Fortune had left to both of vs alike,What to delight in, what to sorrow for,Her part, poore soule, seeming as burdenedWith lesser waight, but not with lesser woe,Was carried with more speed before the winde,And in our sight they three were taken vpBy Fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.At length another ship had seiz'd on vs,And knowing whom it was their hap to saue,Gaue healthfull welcome to their ship-wrackt guests,And would haue reft the Fishers of their prey,Had not their backe beene very slow of saile;And therefore homeward did they bend their course.Thus haue you heard me seuer'd from my blisse,That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,To tell sad stories of my owne mishaps
Duke. And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,Doe me the fauour to dilate at full,What haue befalne of them and they till now
Merch. My yongest boy, and yet my eldest care,At eighteene yeeres became inquisitiueAfter his brother; and importun'd meThat his attendant, so his case was like,Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name,Might beare him company in the quest of him:Whom whil'st I laboured of a loue to see,I hazarded the losse of whom I lou'd.Fiue Sommers haue I spent in farthest Greece,Roming cleane through the bounds of Asia,And coasting homeward, came to Ephesus:Hopelesse to finde, yet loth to leaue vnsoughtOr that, or any place that harbours men:But heere must end the story of my life,And happy were I in my timelie death,Could all my trauells warrant me they liue
Duke. Haplesse Egeon whom the fates haue marktTo beare the extremitie of dire mishap:Now trust me, were it not against our Lawes,Against my Crowne, my oath, my dignity,Which Princes would they may not disanull,My soule should sue as aduocate for thee:But though thou art adiudged to the death,And passed sentence may not be recal'dBut to our honours great disparagement:Yet will I fauour thee in what I can;Therefore Marchant, Ile limit thee this dayTo seeke thy helpe by beneficiall helpe,Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus,Beg thou, or borrow, to make vp the summe,And liue: if no, then thou art doom'd to die:Iaylor, take him to thy custodie
Iaylor. I will my Lord
Merch. Hopelesse and helpelesse doth Egean wend,But to procrastinate his liuelesse end.
Exeunt.
Enter Antipholis Erotes, a Marchant, and Dromio.
Mer. Therefore giue out you are of Epidamium,Lest that your goods too soone be confiscate:This very day a Syracusian MarchantIs apprehended for a riuall here,And not being able to buy out his life,According to the statute of the towne,Dies ere the wearie sunne set in the West:There is your monie that I had to keepe
Ant. Goe beare it to the Centaure, where we host,And stay there Dromio, till I come to thee;Within this houre it will be dinner time,Till that Ile view the manners of the towne,Peruse the traders, gaze vpon the buildings,And then returne and sleepe within mine Inne,For with long trauaile I am stiffe and wearie.Get thee away
Dro. Many a man would take you at your word,And goe indeede, hauing so good a meane.
Exit Dromio.
Ant. A trustie villaine sir, that very oft,When I am dull with care and melancholly,Lightens my humour with his merry iests:What will you walke with me about the towne,And then goe to my Inne and dine with me?E.Mar. I am inuited sir to certaine Marchants,Of whom I hope to make much benefit:I craue your pardon, soone at fiue a clocke,Please you, Ile meete with you vpon the Mart,And afterward consort you till bed time:My present businesse cals me from you now
Ant. Farewell till then: I will goe loose my selfe,And wander vp and downe to view the Citie
E.Mar. Sir, I commend you to your owne content.
Exeunt.
Ant. He that commends me to mine owne content,Commends me to the thing I cannot get:I to the world am like a drop of water,That in the Ocean seekes another drop,Who falling there to finde his fellow forth,(Vnseene, inquisitiue) confounds himselfe.So I, to finde a Mother and a Brother,In quest of them (vnhappie a) loose my selfe.
Enter Dromio of Ephesus.
Here comes the almanacke of my true date:What now? How chance thou art return'd so soone
E.Dro. Return'd so soone, rather approacht too late:The Capon burnes, the Pig fals from the spit;The clocke hath strucken twelue vpon the bell:My Mistris made it one vpon my cheeke:She is so hot because the meate is colde:The meate is colde, because you come not home:You come not home, because you haue no stomacke:You haue no stomacke, hauing broke your fast:But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray,Are penitent for your default to day
Ant. Stop in your winde sir, tell me this I pray?Where haue you left the mony that I gaue you
E.Dro. Oh sixe pence that I had a wensday last,To pay the Sadler for my Mistris crupper:The Sadler had it Sir, I kept it not
Ant. I am not in a sportiue humor now:Tell me, and dally not, where is the monie?We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trustSo great a charge from thine owne custodie
E.Dro. I pray you iest sir as you sit at dinner:I from my Mistris come to you in post:If I returne I shall be post indeede.For she will scoure your fault vpon my pate:Me thinkes your maw, like mine, should be your cooke,And strike you home without a messenger
Ant. Come Dromio, come, these iests are out of season,Reserue them till a merrier houre then this:Where is the gold I gaue in charge to thee?E.Dro. To me sir? why you gaue no gold to me?Ant. Come on sir knaue, haue done your foolishnes,And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge
E.Dro. My charge was but to fetch you fro[m] the MartHome to your house, the Phoenix sir, to dinner;My Mistris and her sister staies for you
Ant. Now as I am a Christian answer me,In what safe place you haue bestow'd my monie;Or I shall breake that merrie sconce of yoursThat stands on tricks, when I am vndispos'd:Where is the thousand Markes thou hadst of me?E.Dro. I haue some markes of yours vpon my pate:Some of my Mistris markes vpon my shoulders:But not a thousand markes betweene you both.If I should pay your worship those againe,Perchance you will not beare them patiently
Ant. Thy Mistris markes? what Mistris slaue hast thou?E.Dro. Your worships wife, my Mistris at the Phoenix;She that doth fast till you come home to dinner:And praies that you will hie you home to dinner
Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus vnto my faceBeing forbid? There take you that sir knaue
E.Dro. What meane you sir, for God sake hold your hands:Nay, and you will not sir, Ile take my heeles.
Exeunt. Dromio Ep.
Ant. Vpon my life by some deuise or other,The villaine is ore-wrought of all my monie.They say this towne is full of cosenage:As nimble Iuglers that deceiue the eie:Darke working Sorcerers that change the minde:Soule-killing Witches, that deforme the bodie:Disguised Cheaters, prating Mountebankes;And manie such like liberties of sinne:If it proue so, I will be gone the sooner:Ile to the Centaur to goe seeke this slaue,I greatly feare my monie is not safe.
Enter.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Adriana, wife to Antipholis Sereptus, with Luciana herSister.
Adr. Neither my husband nor the slaue return'd,That in such haste I sent to seeke his Master?Sure Luciana it is two a clocke
Luc. Perhaps some Merchant hath inuited him,And from the Mart he's somewhere gone to dinner:Good Sister let vs dine, and neuer fret;A man is Master of his libertie:Time is their Master, and when they see time,They'll goe or come; if so, be patient Sister
Adr. Why should their libertie then ours be more?Luc. Because their businesse still lies out adore
Adr. Looke when I serue him so, he takes it thus
Luc. Oh, know he is the bridle of your will
Adr. There's none but asses will be bridled so
Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lasht with woe:There's nothing situate vnder heauens eye,But hath his bound in earth, in sea, in skie.The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowlesAre their males subiects, and at their controules:Man more diuine, the Master of all these,Lord of the wide world, and wilde watry seas,Indued with intellectuall sence and soules,Of more preheminence then fish and fowles,Are masters to their females, and their Lords:Then let your will attend on their accords
Adri. This seruitude makes you to keepe vnwed
Luci. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed
Adr. But were you wedded, you wold bear some swayLuc. Ere I learne loue, Ile practise to obey
Adr. How if your husband start some other where?Luc. Till he come home againe, I would forbeare
Adr. Patience vnmou'd, no maruel though she pause,They can be meeke, that haue no other cause:A wretched soule bruis'd with aduersitie,We bid be quiet when we heare it crie.But were we burdned with like waight of paine,As much, or more, we should our selues complaine:So thou that hast no vnkinde mate to greeue thee,With vrging helpelesse patience would releeue me;But if thou liue to see like right bereft,This foole-beg'd patience in thee will be left
Luci. Well, I will marry one day but to trie:Heere comes your man, now is your husband nie.
Enter Dromio Eph.
Adr. Say, is your tardie master now at hand?E.Dro. Nay, hee's at too hands with mee, and that mytwo eares can witnesse
Adr. Say, didst thou speake with him? knowst thouhis minde?E.Dro. I, I, he told his minde vpon mine eare,Beshrew his hand, I scarce could vnderstand it
Luc. Spake hee so doubtfully, thou couldst not feelehis meaning
E.Dro. Nay, hee strooke so plainly, I could too well feele his blowes; and withall so doubtfully, that I could scarce vnderstand them
Adri. But say, I prethee, is he comming home?It seemes he hath great care to please his wife
E.Dro. Why Mistresse, sure my Master is horne mad
Adri. Horne mad, thou villaine?E.Dro. I meane not Cuckold mad,But sure he is starke mad:When I desir'd him to come home to dinner,He ask'd me for a hundred markes in gold:'Tis dinner time, quoth I: my gold, quoth he:Your meat doth burne, quoth I: my gold quoth he:Will you come, quoth I: my gold, quoth he;Where is the thousand markes I gaue thee villaine?The Pigge quoth I, is burn'd: my gold, quoth he:My mistresse, sir, quoth I: hang vp thy Mistresse:I know not thy mistresse, out on thy mistresse
Luci. Quoth who? E.Dr. Quoth my Master, I know quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistresse: so that my arrant due vnto my tongue, I thanke him, I bare home vpon my shoulders: for in conclusion, he did beat me there
Adri. Go back againe, thou slaue, & fetch him home
Dro. Goe backe againe, and be new beaten home?For Gods sake send some other messenger
Adri. Backe slaue, or I will breake thy pate a-crosse
Dro. And he will blesse y crosse with other beating:Betweene you, I shall haue a holy head
Adri. Hence prating pesant, fetch thy Master home
Dro. Am I so round with you, as you with me,That like a foot-ball you doe spurne me thus:You spurne me hence, and he will spurne me hither,If I last in this seruice, you must case me in leather
Luci. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face
Adri. His company must do his minions grace,Whil'st I at home starue for a merrie looke:Hath homelie age th' alluring beauty tookeFrom my poore cheeke? then he hath wasted it.Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit,If voluble and sharpe discourse be mar'd,Vnkindnesse blunts it more then marble hard.Doe their gay vestments his affections baite?That's not my fault, hee's master of my state.What ruines are in me that can be found,By him not ruin'd? Then is he the groundOf my defeatures. My decayed faire,A sunnie looke of his, would soone repaire.But, too vnruly Deere, he breakes the pale,And feedes from home; poore I am but his stale
Luci. Selfe-harming Iealousie; fie beat it hence
Ad. Vnfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispence:I know his eye doth homage other-where,Or else, what lets it but he would be here?Sister, you know he promis'd me a chaine,Would that alone, a loue he would detaine,So he would keepe faire quarter with his bed:I see the Iewell best enamaledWill loose his beautie: yet the gold bides stillThat others touch, and often touching will,Where gold and no man that hath a name,By falshood and corruption doth it shame:Since that my beautie cannot please his eie,Ile weepe (what's left away) and weeping die
Luci. How manie fond fooles serue mad Ielousie?
Enter.
Enter Antipholis Errotis.
Ant. The gold I gaue to Dromio is laid vpSafe at the Centaur, and the heedfull slaueIs wandred forth in care to seeke me outBy computation and mine hosts report.I could not speake with Dromio, since at firstI sent him from the Mart? see here he comes.
Enter Dromio Siracusia.
How now sir, is your merrie humor alter'd?As you loue stroakes, so iest with me againe:You know no Centaur? you receiu'd no gold?Your Mistresse sent to haue me home to dinner?My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,That thus so madlie thou did didst answere me?S.Dro. What answer sir? when spake I such a word?E.Ant. Euen now, euen here, not halfe an howre since
S.Dro. I did not see you since you sent me henceHome to the Centaur with the gold you gaue me
Ant. Villaine, thou didst denie the golds receit,And toldst me of a Mistresse, and a dinner,For which I hope thou feltst I was displeas'd
S.Dro. I am glad to see you in this merrie vaine,What meanes this iest, I pray you Master tell me?Ant. Yea, dost thou ieere & flowt me in the teeth?Thinkst y I iest? hold, take thou that, & that.
Beats Dro.
S.Dr. Hold sir, for Gods sake, now your iest is earnest,Vpon what bargaine do you giue it me?Antiph. Because that I familiarlie sometimesDoe vse you for my foole, and chat with you,Your sawcinesse will iest vpon my loue,And make a Common of my serious howres,When the sunne shines, let foolish gnats make sport,But creepe in crannies, when he hides his beames:If you will iest with me, know my aspect,And fashion your demeanor to my lookes,Or I will beat this method in your sconce
S.Dro. Sconce call you it? so you would leaue battering, I had rather haue it a head, and you vse these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and Insconce it to, or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders, but I pray sir, why am I beaten? Ant. Dost thou not know? S.Dro. Nothing sir, but that I am beaten
Ant. Shall I tell you why?S.Dro. I sir, and wherefore; for they say, euery whyhath a wherefore
Ant. Why first for flowting me, and then wherefore,for vrging it the second time to me
S.Dro. Was there euer anie man thus beaten out of season, when in the why and the wherefore, is neither rime nor reason. Well sir, I thanke you
Ant. Thanke me sir, for what?S.Dro. Marry sir, for this something that you gaue mefor nothing
Ant. Ile make you amends next, to giue you nothingfor something. But say sir, is it dinner time?S.Dro. No sir, I thinke the meat wants that I haue
Ant. In good time sir: what's that?S.Dro. Basting
Ant. Well sir, then 'twill be drie
S.Dro. If it be sir, I pray you eat none of it
Ant. Your reason?S.Dro. Lest it make you chollericke, and purchase meanother drie basting
Ant. Well sir, learne to iest in good time, there's atime for all things
S.Dro. I durst haue denied that before you were sochollericke
Anti. By what rule sir?S.Dro. Marry sir, by a rule as plaine as the plaine baldpate of Father time himselfe
Ant. Let's heare it
S.Dro. There's no time for a man to recouer his hairethat growes bald by nature
Ant. May he not doe it by fine and recouerie?S.Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a perewig, and recouerthe lost haire of another man
Ant. Why, is Time such a niggard of haire, being (as it is) so plentifull an excrement? S.Dro. Because it is a blessing that hee bestowes on beasts, and what he hath scanted them in haire, hee hath giuen them in wit
Ant. Why, but theres manie a man hath more hairethen wit
S.Dro. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to losehis haire
Ant. Why thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealerswithout wit
S.Dro. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he loosethit in a kinde of iollitie
An. For what reason
S.Dro. For two, and sound ones to
An. Nay not sound I pray you
S.Dro. Sure ones then
An. Nay, not sure in a thing falsing
S.Dro. Certaine ones then
An. Name them
S.Dro. The one to saue the money that he spends in trying: the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porrage
An. You would all this time haue prou'd, there is notime for all things
S.Dro. Marry and did sir: namely, in no time to recouerhaire lost by Nature
An. But your reason was not substantiall, why thereis no time to recouer
S.Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himselfe is bald, andtherefore to the worlds end, will haue bald followers
An. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: but soft,who wafts vs yonder.
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
Adri. I, I, Antipholus, looke strange and frowne,Some other Mistresse hath thy sweet aspects:I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.The time was once, when thou vn-vrg'd wouldst vow,That neuer words were musicke to thine eare,That neuer obiect pleasing in thine eye,That neuer touch well welcome to thy hand,That neuer meat sweet-sauour'd in thy taste,Vnlesse I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or caru'd to thee.How comes it now, my Husband, oh how comes it,That thou art then estranged from thy selfe?Thy selfe I call it, being strange to me:That vndiuidable IncorporateAm better then thy deere selfes better part.Ah doe not teare away thy selfe from me;For know my loue: as easie maist thou fallA drop of water in the breaking gulfe,And take vnmingled thence that drop againeWithout addition or diminishing,As take from me thy selfe, and not me too.How deerely would it touch thee to the quicke,Shouldst thou but heare I were licencious?And that this body consecrate to thee,By Ruffian Lust should be contaminate?Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurne at me,And hurle the name of husband in my face,And teare the stain'd skin of my Harlot brow,And from my false hand cut the wedding ring,And breake it with a deepe-diuorcing vow?I know thou canst, and therefore see thou doe it.I am possest with an adulterate blot,My bloud is mingled with the crime of lust:For if we two be one, and thou play false,I doe digest the poison of thy flesh,Being strumpeted by thy contagion:Keepe then faire league and truce with thy true bed,I liue distain'd, thou vndishonoured
Antip. Plead you to me faire dame? I know you not:In Ephesus I am but two houres old,As strange vnto your towne, as to your talke,Who euery word by all my wit being scan'd,Wants wit in all, one word to vnderstand
Luci. Fie brother, how the world is chang'd with you:When were you wont to vse my sister thus?She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner
Ant. By Dromio?Drom. By me
Adr. By thee, and this thou didst returne from him.That he did buffet thee, and in his blowes,Denied my house for his, me for his wife
Ant. Did you conuerse sir with this gentlewoman:What is the course and drift of your compact?S.Dro. I sir? I neuer saw her till this time
Ant. Villaine thou liest, for euen her verie words,Didst thou deliuer to me on the Mart
S.Dro. I neuer spake with her in all my life
Ant. How can she thus then call vs by our names?Vnlesse it be by inspiration
Adri. How ill agrees it with your grauitie,To counterfeit thus grosely with your slaue,Abetting him to thwart me in my moode;Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt,But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.Come I will fasten on this sleeue of thine:Thou art an Elme my husband, I a Vine:Whose weaknesse married to thy stranger state,Makes me with thy strength to communicate:If ought possesse thee from me, it is drosse,Vsurping Iuie, Brier, or idle Mosse,Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion,Infect thy sap, and liue on thy confusion
Ant. To mee shee speakes, shee moues mee for hertheame;What, was I married to her in my dreame?Or sleepe I now, and thinke I heare all this?What error driues our eies and eares amisse?Vntill I know this sure vncertaintie,Ile entertaine the free'd fallacie
Luc. Dromio, goe bid the seruants spred for dinner
S.Dro. Oh for my beads, I crosse me for a sinner.This is the Fairie land, oh spight of spights,We talke with Goblins, Owles and Sprights;If we obay them not, this will insue:They'll sucke our breath, or pinch vs blacke and blew
Luc. Why prat'st thou to thy selfe, and answer'st not?Dromio, thou Dromio, thou snaile, thou slug, thou sot
S.Dro. I am transformed Master, am I not?Ant. I thinke thou art in minde, and so am I
S.Dro. Nay Master, both in minde, and in my shape
Ant. Thou hast thine owne forme
S.Dro. No, I am an Ape
Luc. If thou art chang'd to ought, 'tis to an Asse
S.Dro. 'Tis true she rides me, and I long for grasse.'Tis so, I am an Asse, else it could neuer be,But I should know her as well as she knowes me
Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a foole,To put the finger in the eie and weepe;Whil'st man and Master laughes my woes to scorne:Come sir to dinner, Dromio keepe the gate:Husband Ile dine aboue with you to day,And shriue you of a thousand idle prankes:Sirra, if any aske you for your Master,Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter:Come sister, Dromio play the Porter well
Ant. Am I in earth, in heauen, or in hell?Sleeping or waking, mad or well aduisde:Knowne vnto these, and to my selfe disguisde:Ile say as they say, and perseuer so:And in this mist at all aduentures go
S.Dro. Master, shall I be Porter at the gate?Adr. I, and let none enter, least I breake your pate
Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine to late.
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio, Angelo theGoldsmith, andBalthaser the Merchant.
E.Anti. Good signior Angelo you must excuse vs all,My wife is shrewish when I keepe not howres;Say that I lingerd with you at your shopTo see the making of her Carkanet,And that to morrow you will bring it home.But here's a villaine that would face me downeHe met me on the Mart, and that I beat him,And charg'd him with a thousand markes in gold,And that I did denie my wife and house;Thou drunkard thou, what didst thou meane by this?E.Dro. Say what you wil sir, but I know what I know,That you beat me at the Mart I haue your hand to show;If y skin were parchment, & y blows you gaue were ink,Your owne hand-writing would tell you what I thinke
E.Ant. I thinke thou art an asse
E.Dro. Marry so it doth appeareBy the wrongs I suffer, and the blowes I beare,I should kicke being kickt, and being at that passe,You would keepe from my heeles, and beware of an asse
E.An. Y'are sad signior Balthazar, pray God our cheerMay answer my good will, and your good welcom here
Bal. I hold your dainties cheap sir, & your welcom deer
E.An. Oh signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish,A table full of welcome, makes scarce one dainty dish
Bal. Good meat sir is co[m]mon that euery churle affords
Anti. And welcome more common, for thats nothingbut words
Bal. Small cheere and great welcome, makes a merriefeast
Anti. I, to a niggardly Host, and more sparing guest:But though my cates be meane, take them in good part,Better cheere may you haue, but not with better hart.But soft, my doore is lockt; goe bid them let vs in
E.Dro. Maud, Briget, Marian, Cisley, Gillian, Ginn
S.Dro. Mome, Malthorse, Capon, Coxcombe, Idiot,Patch,Either get thee from the dore, or sit downe at the hatch:Dost thou coniure for wenches, that y calst for such store,When one is one too many, goe get thee from the dore
E.Dro. What patch is made our Porter? my Masterstayes in the street
S.Dro. Let him walke from whence he came, lest heecatch cold on's feet
E.Ant. Who talks within there? hoa, open the dore