DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. Go back again, and be new beaten home For Gods sake send some other messenger. And he will bless y to cross with other beating Between you, I shall have a holy head. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That Like a football you do spurn me thus: You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither, If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. I am and ass, I am a woman's man, and beside my self. Marry sir, beside my self, I am endue to a woman: One that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me. Marry sir, such claim as you would lay to your horse, and she would have me as a beast, not that I be king a beast she would have me, but that she being a we rye beastly creature lays claim to me. A very reverent body: I such a one, as a man may not speak of, without he say sir reverence, I have but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a wondrous fat marriage. Marry sir, she's the Kitchen wench, & all grease, and I know not what use to put her too, but to make a Lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant, her rags and the Tallow in them, will burn a Poland Winter: If she lives till doomsday, she'l burn a week longer then the whole World. Swart Like my shoo, but her face nothing Like so clean kept: for why? she sweats a man may go oh uer-shooes in the grime of it. No sir, it's in grain, Noahs stood could not do it. Nell Sir: but her name is three quarters, that's and Ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip. No longer from head to foot, then from hip to hip: she is spherical, Like a globe: I could find out Countries in her. Marry sir in her buttocks, I found it out by the bogs. I found it by the barrenness, hard in the palm of the hand. In her forehead, armed and reverted, making war against her heir. I looked for the chalkle Cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in them. But I guess, it stood in her chin by the salt theume that ran between France, and it. Faith I saw it not: but I felt it hight in her breath. O sir, upon her nose, all over embellished with Rubies, Carbuncles, Saphires, declining their rich As pect to the hight breath of Spain, who sent whole Ar madoes of Carrects to be ballast at her nose. O sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge or Diviner laid claim to me, called me Dromio, swore I was assured to her, told me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark of my shoulder, the Mole in my neck, the great Wart on my left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch. And I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transformed me to a Curtull dog, & made me turn in that wheel. As from a Bear a man would run for life, So fly I from her that would be my wife. I buy a thousand pound a year, I buy a rope. Master, there's a Bark of Epidamium, That stays but till her Owner comes aboard, And then sir she bears away. Our fraughtage sir, I have conveyed aboard, and I have bought The Oil, the Balsamum, and Aquavitae. The ship is in her trim, the merry wind Blows fair from land: they stay for nought at all, But for their Owner, Master, and your self. Here go: the desk, the purse, sweet now make haste. Sir sooth to say, you did not dine at home. Perdy, your doors were locked, and you shut out. Sans Fable, she her self reviled you there. Certis she did, the kitchen vestal scorned you. In verity you did, my bones bears witness, That since have felt the vigor of his rage. Money by me? Heart and good will you might, But surely Master not a rag of Money. God and the Ropemaker bear me witness, That I was sent for nothing but a rope. And gentle M r I received no gold: But I confess sir, that we were locked out. Master, I am here entered in bound for you. Will you be bound for nothing, be mad good Master, cry the devil. Faith stay here this night, they will surely do us no harm: you saw they speak us fair, give us gold: me thinks they are such a gentle Nation, that but for the Mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still, and turn Witch. Our selves we do remember sir by you: For lately we were bound as you are now. You are not Pinches patient, are you sir? No trust me sir, nor I. By me. What answer sir? when spoke I such a word? I did not see you since you sent me hence Home to the Centaur with the gold you gave me. I am glad to see you in this merry vain, What means this jest, I pray you Master tell me? Sconce call you it? so you would leave bat ring, I had rather have it a head, and you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and Ensconce it to, or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders, but I pray sir, why am I beaten? I sir, and wherefore; for they say, every why hath a wherefore. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, when in the why and the wherefore, is neither rhyme nor reason. Well sir, I thank you. Marry sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. No sir, I think the meat wants that I have. Basting. If it be sir, I pray you eat none of it. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting. I durst have denied that before you were so choleric. Marry sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of Father time himself. There's no time for a man to recover his hair that grows bald by nature. Yes, to pay a fine for a perewig, and recover the lost hair of another man. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts, and what he hath scanted them in hair, he hath given them in wit. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to loose his hair. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he loo seth it in a kind of jollity. For two, and found ones to. Sure ones then. Certain ones then. The one to save the money that he spends in trying: the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porrage. Marry and did sir: namely, in no time to re cover hair lost by Nature. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore to the world's end, will have bald followers. I sir? I never saw her till this time. I never spoke with her in all my life. O for my beads, I cross me for a sinner. This is the Fairy land, o spite of spites, We talk with Goblins, Owls and Sprights; If we obey them not, this will ensue: They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. I am transformed Master, am I not? Nay Master, both in mind, and in my shape. No, I am and Ape. It's true she rides me, and I long for grass. It's so, I am and Ass, else it could never be, But I should know her as well as she knows me. Master, shall I be Porter at the gate? Mome, Malthorse, Capon, Coxcomb, Idi ot, Patch, Either get thee from the door, or fit down at the hatch: Dost thou conjure for wenches, that y u callest for such store, When one is one too many, go get thee from the door. Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet. Right sir, I'll tell you when, and you'll tell me wherefore. Nor to day here you must not come again when you may. The Porter for this time Sir, and my name is Dromio. If thy name be called Luce, Luce thou hast and swer'd him well. And you said no. By my troth your town is troubled with un ruly boys. Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knaves pate. It seems thou wantest breaking, out upon thee hind. I, when fowls have no feathers, and fish have no sin. Do you know me sir? Am I Dromio ? Am I your man? Am I my self? A ship you sent me too, to hire waftage. You sent me for a ropes end as soon, You sent me to the Bay sir, for a Bark. By running fast. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse then hell: A devil in and everlasting garment hath him; On whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel: A Fiend, a Fairy, pitiless and ruff: A Wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff A back friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that counterma ̄ ds The passages of allies, creeks, and narrow lands: A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well, One that before the Iudgme ̄ to carries poor souls to hell. I do not know the matter, he is rested on the case. I know not at whose suit he is arrested well; but is in a suit of buff which rested him, that can I tell, will you send him Mistress redemption, the money in his desk. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing: A chain, a chain, do you not here it ring. No, no, the bell, it's time that I were gone: It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. O yes, if any hour meet a Sergeant, a turns back for very fear. Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more then he's worth to season. Nay, he's a thief too: have you not herd men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? If I be in debt and theft, and a Sergeant in the way, Hath he not reason to turn back and hour in a day? Master, here's the gold you sent me for: what have you God the picture of old Adam new appareled? Not that Adam that kept the Paradise: but that Adam that keeps the prison; he that goes in the calves-skin, that was killed for the Prodigal: he that came behind you sir, Like and evil angel, and bid you for sake your liberty. No? why it's a plain case: he that went Like a Base-Viole 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 his rest to do more ex ploits with his Mace, then a Moris Pike. I sir, the Sergeant of the Band: he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his Band: one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, God give you good rest. Why sir, I brought you word and hour since, that the Bark Expedition put forth to night, and then were you hindered by the Sergeant to tarry for the Hoy Delay : Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you. Master, is this Mistress Satan ? Nay, she is worse, she is the devils dam: And here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and thereof comes, that the wenches say God dam me, That's as much to say, God make me a light wench: It is writ ten they appear to men Like angels of light, light is and effect of fire, and fire will burn: ergo, light wenches will burn, come not near her. Master, if do expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon. Marry he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil. Some devils ask but the parings of ones nail, a rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherry stone: but she more covetous, would have a chain: Ma ster be wise, and if you give it her, the devil will shake her Chain, and fright us with it. Fly pride says the Pea-cocke, Mistress that you know. To a ropes end sir, and to that end am I re turned. She that would be your wife, now ran from you. Run master run, for Gods sake take a house, This is some Priory, in, or we are spoiled. Mast shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard? Your goods that lay at host sir in the Centaur. There is a fat friend at your Master's house, That kitchin'd me for you to day at dinner: She now shall be my sister, not my wife. Not I sir, you are my elder. We'll draw Cuts for the Signior, till then, led thou first. Hold sir, for Gods sake, now your jest is earnest, Upon what bargain do you give it me? Nothing sir, but that I am beaten. To Adriana, that is where we dined, Where Dowsabell did claim me for her husband, She is too big I hope for me to compass, Thither I must, although against my will: For servants must their Master's minds fulfil. I Sir am Dromio, command him away. O my old Master, who hath bound him here?