What is the course and drift of your compact? Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life. Ant. S. How can she thus then call us by our names, Unless it be by inspiration? Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, Abetting him to thwart me in my mood? Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. 4 Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: What, was I married to her in my dream? I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. 4 •you are from me exempt,] Johnson says that exempt means separated, parted; yet I think that Adriana does not use the word exempt in that sense, but means to say, that as he was her husband she had no power over him, and that he was privileged to do her wrong. M. MASON. 5 idle moss;] That is, moss that produces no fruit, but being unfertile is useless.. Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Dro. S. O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. This is the fairy land;-O, spite of spites!- They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. not?. Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! shape. Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. Dro. S. grass. 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, make That is, I will call you to confession, and And shrive you I'll say as they say, and perséver so, And in this mist at all adventures go. Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate? Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. [Exeunt. SCENE I. The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR. Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours: And that I did deny my wife and house: Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? Dro. E. Say what you will, sir, but I know what That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to 7 show: carkanet,] Seems to have been a necklace, or rather chain, perhaps hanging down double from the neck. If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass. Dro. E. 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. Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: 'Pray God, our cheer May answer my good will, and here. your good welcome Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear. Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feast. Ant. E. 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. Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Jen'! 8 Dro. S. [Within.] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch!9 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. Dro. E. What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street. Dro. S. Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the door. Dro. S. Right, sir, I'll tell you when, an you'll tell me wherefóre. Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner; I have not din'd to-day. Dro. S. Nor to-day here you must not; come again, when you may. Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe?1 Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine. office and my name; The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. Mome,] A dull stupid blockhead, a stock, a post. This owes its original to the French word Momen, which signifies the gaming at dice in masquerade, the custom and rule of which is, that a strict silence is to be observed: whatever sum one stakes, another covers, but not a word is to be spoken. From hence also comes our word mum! for silence. HAWKINS. 9-patch!] i. e. fool. Alluding to the parti-coloured coats worn by the licensed fools or jesters of the age. I owe?] i. e. I own, am owner of, D |