The Comedy of Errors (Folio 1, 1623)
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¶
Enter Iuliana, with Antipholus of Siracusia.
¶Iulia. And may it be that you haue quite forgot
790Shall loue in buildings grow so ruinate?
¶Be not thy tongue thy owne shames Orator:
¶Apparell vice like vertues harbenger:
¶Beare a faire presence, though your heart be tainted,
800Teach sinne the carriage of a holy Saint,
¶What simple thiefe brags of his owne attaine?
¶'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed,
¶And let her read it in thy lookes at boord:
805Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed,
¶Ill deeds is doubled with an euill word:
¶Alas poore women, make vs not beleeue
¶(Being compact of credit) that you loue vs,
810We in your motion turne, and you may moue vs.
¶Then gentle brother get you in againe;
¶'Tis holy sport to be a little vaine,
¶ know not;
¶Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine:
¶Then our earths wonder, more then earth diuine.
820Teach me deere creature how to thinke and speake:
¶Smothred in errors, feeble, shallow, weake,
¶The foulded meaning of your words deceit:
825To make it wander in an vnknowne field?
¶Are you a god? would you create me new?
¶Transforme me then, and to your powre Ile yeeld.
¶But if that I am I, then well I know,
830Nor to her bed no homage doe I owe:
¶Farre more, farre more, to you doe I decline:
¶Oh traine me not sweet Mermaide with thy note,
¶Sing Siren for thy selfe, and I will dote:
835Spread ore the siluer waues thy golden haires;
¶And as a bud Ile take thee, and there lie:
¶He gaines by death, that hath such meanes to die:
¶Ant. Not mad, but mated, how I doe not know.
¶Ant. For gazing on your beames
faire sun being by.
845 your sight.
¶Mine eies cleere eie, my deere hearts deerer heart;
¶My foode, my fortune, and my sweet hopes aime;
¶My sole earths heauen, and my heauens claime.
¶Thee will I loue, and with thee lead my life;
¶Giue me thy hand.
Exit.
¶
Enter Dromio, Siracusia.
¶ fast?
865 your man? Am I my selfe?
¶Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art
¶ thy selfe.
¶ my selfe.
¶ selfe?
¶One that claimes me, one that haunts me, one that will
¶haue me.
¶rie beastly creature layes claime to me.
¶but leane lucke in the match, and yet is she a wondrous
¶fat marriage.
¶and I know not what vse to put her too, but to make a
¶Lampe of her, and run from her by her owne light. I
¶warrant, her ragges and the Tallow in them, will burne
¶a weeke longer then the whole World.
895uer-shooes in the grime of it.
¶Anti. That's a fault that water will mend.
¶do it.
¶Anti. What's her name?
900Dro. Nell Sir: but her name is three quarters, that's
¶an Ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip
¶to hip.
¶Dro. No longer from head to foot, then from hippe
¶Countries in her.
¶the bogges.
910Ant. Where Scotland?
¶of the hand.
¶Ant. Where France?
¶Dro. In her forhead, arm'd and reuerted, making
915warre against her heire.
¶Ant. Where England?
¶Dro. I look'd for the chalkle Cliffes, but I could find
¶by the salt rheume that ranne betweene France, and it.
920Ant. Where Spaine?
¶Ant. Where America, the Indies?
¶Rubies, Carbuncles, Saphires, declining their rich As-
925pect to the hot breath of Spaine, who sent whole Ar-
¶this drudge or Diuiner layd claime to mee, call'd mee
¶markes I had about mee, as the marke of my shoulder,
¶the Mole in my necke, the great Wart on my left arme,
¶that I amaz'd ranne from her as a witch. And I thinke,
if
¶my brest had not beene made of faith, and my heart of
¶me turne i'th wheele.
¶And if the winde blow any way from shore,
¶I will not harbour in this Towne to night.
940If any Barke put forth, come to the Mart,
¶Where I will walke till thou returne to me:
¶If euerie one knowes vs, and we know none,
¶'Tis time I thinke to trudge, packe, and be gone.
¶Dro. As from a Beare a man would run for life,
945So flie I from her that would be my wife.
Exit
¶Anti. There's none but Witches do inhabite heere,
¶And therefore 'tis hie time that I were hence:
955
Enter Angelo with the Chaine.
¶Ang. Mr Antipholus.
¶Anti. I that's my name.
¶I thought to haue tane you at the Porpentine,
¶you.
965Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twentie times you
¶haue:
¶Go home with it, and please your Wife withall,
¶And then receiue my money for the chaine.
¶For feare you ne're see chaine, nor mony more.
¶But this I thinke, there's no man is so vaine,
¶Ile to the Mart, and there for Dromio stay,
Exit.
