THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. William Shakespeare
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OF EPHESUS, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.]
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all.
My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours:
Say that I linger’d with you at your shop
To see the making of her carcanet,
And that tomorrow you will bring it home.
But here’s a villain that would face me down.
He met me on the mart; and that I beat him,
And charg’d him with a thousand marks in gold;
And that I did deny my wife and house:—
Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know:
That you beat me at the mart I have your hand to show;
If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,
Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
I think thou art an ass.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Marry, so it doth appear
By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear.
I should kick, being kick’d; and being at that pass,
You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
You are sad, Signior Balthazar; pray God our cheer
May answer my good will and your good welcome here.
BALTHAZAR.
I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish,
A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
BALTHAZAR.
Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
And welcome more common; for that’s nothing but words.
BALTHAZAR
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Ay, to a niggardly host and more sparing guest.
But though my cates be mean, take them in good part;
Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.
But, soft; my door is lock’d: go bid them let us in.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Jen!
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch!
Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch:
Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call’st for such store,
When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on’s feet.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Who talks within there? Ho, open the door!
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
Right, sir; I’ll tell you when an you’ll tell me wherefore.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Wherefore! For my dinner: I have not dined to-day.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
Nor to-day here you must not; come again when you may.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
What art thou that keep’st me out from the house I owe?
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name;
The one ne’er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place,
Thou wouldst have chang’d thy face for a name, or thy name for an
ass.
LUCE. [Within.] What a coil is there! Dromio, who are those at the gate?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Let my master in, Luce.
LUCE.
Faith, no, he comes too late;
And so tell your master.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
O Lord, I must laugh;—
Have at you with a proverb:—Shall I set in my staff?
LUCE.
Have at you with another: that’s—When? can you tell?
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
If thy name be called Luce,—Luce, thou hast answer’d him well.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Do you hear, you minion? you’ll let us in, I hope?
LUCE.
I thought to have ask’d you.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
And you said no.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
So, Come, help: well struck; there was blow for blow.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Thou baggage, let me in.
LUCE.
Can you tell for whose sake?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Master, knock the door hard.
LUCE.
Let him knock till it ache.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
You’ll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down.
LUCE.
What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town?
ADRIANA.
[Within.] Who is that at the door, that keeps all this noise?
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Are you there, wife? you might have come before.
ADRIANA.
Your wife, sir knave! go, get you from the door.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
If you went in pain, master, this knave would go sore.
ANGELO. Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would fain have either.
BALTHAZAR.
In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.