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- Edition: The Comedy of Errors
The Comedy of Errors (Folio 1, 1623)
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786 Enter Iuliana, with Antipholus of Siracusia.
787Iulia. And may it be that you haue quite forgot
790Shall loue in buildings grow so ruinate?
796Be not thy tongue thy owne shames Orator:
798Apparell vice like vertues harbenger:
799Beare a faire presence, though your heart be tainted,
800Teach sinne the carriage of a holy Saint,
802What simple thiefe brags of his owne attaine?
803'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed,
804And let her read it in thy lookes at boord:
805Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed,
806Ill deeds is doubled with an euill word:
807Alas poore women, make vs not beleeue
808(Being compact of credit) that you loue vs,
810We in your motion turne, and you may moue vs.
811Then gentle brother get you in againe;
813'Tis holy sport to be a little vaine,
816 know not;
817Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine:
819Then our earths wonder, more then earth diuine.
820Teach me deere creature how to thinke and speake:
821Lay open to my earthie grosse conceit:
822Smothred in errors, feeble, shallow, weake,
823The foulded meaning of your words deceit:
825To make it wander in an vnknowne field?
826Are you a god? would you create me new?
827Transforme me then, and to your powre Ile yeeld.
828But if that I am I, then well I know,
830Nor to her bed no homage doe I owe:
831Farre more, farre more, to you doe I decline:
832Oh traine me not sweet Mermaide with thy note,
834Sing Siren for thy selfe, and I will dote:
835Spread ore the siluer waues thy golden haires;
836And as a bud Ile take thee, and there lie:
838He gaines by death, that hath such meanes to die:
841Ant. Not mad, but mated, how I doe not know.
843Ant. For gazing on your beames
faire sun being by.
845 your sight.
851Mine eies cleere eie, my deere hearts deerer heart;
852My foode, my fortune, and my sweet hopes aime;
853My sole earths heauen, and my heauens claime.
856Thee will I loue, and with thee lead my life;
858Giue me thy hand.
861 Enter Dromio, Siracusia.
863 fast?
865 your man? Am I my selfe?
866Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art
867 thy selfe.
869 my selfe.
871 selfe?
873One that claimes me, one that haunts me, one that will
874haue me.
Ant. What
92 The Comedie of Errors.
879rie beastly creature layes claime to me.
883but leane lucke in the match, and yet is she a wondrous
884fat marriage.
887and I know not what vse to put her too, but to make a
888Lampe of her, and run from her by her owne light. I
889warrant, her ragges and the Tallow in them, will burne
891a weeke longer then the whole World.
895uer-shooes in the grime of it.
896Anti. That's a fault that water will mend.
898do it.
899Anti. What's her name?
900Dro. Nell Sir: but her name is three quarters, that's
901an Ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip
902to hip.
904Dro. No longer from head to foot, then from hippe
906Countries in her.
909the bogges.
910Ant. Where Scotland?
912of the hand.
913Ant. Where France?
914Dro. In her forhead, arm'd and reuerted, making
915warre against her heire.
916Ant. Where England?
919by the salt rheume that ranne betweene France, and it.
920Ant. Where Spaine?
922Ant. Where America, the Indies?
924Rubies, Carbuncles, Saphires, declining their rich As-
929this drudge or Diuiner layd claime to mee, call'd mee
931markes I had about mee, as the marke of my shoulder,
932the Mole in my necke, the great Wart on my left arme,
933that I amaz'd ranne from her as a witch. And I thinke,
if
934my brest had not beene made of faith, and my heart of
936me turne i'th wheele.
938And if the winde blow any way from shore,
939I will not harbour in this Towne to night.
940If any Barke put forth, come to the Mart,
941Where I will walke till thou returne to me:
942If euerie one knowes vs, and we know none,
943'Tis time I thinke to trudge, packe, and be gone.
944Dro. As from a Beare a man would run for life,
946Anti. There's none but Witches do inhabite heere,
947And therefore 'tis hie time that I were hence:
955 Enter Angelo with the Chaine.
956Ang. Mr Antipholus.
957Anti. I that's my name.
959I thought to haue tane you at the Porpentine,
963you.
965Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twentie times you
966haue:
967Go home with it, and please your Wife withall,
969And then receiue my money for the chaine.
971For feare you ne're see chaine, nor mony more.
974But this I thinke, there's no man is so vaine,
978Ile to the Mart, and there for Dromio stay,