entertain the offer'd fallacy.”

  Luciana directs Antipholus’ servant, “Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.”

  Dromio speaks to himself, “O, for my beads! This is the fairy land: O spite of spites! We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: If we obey them not, this will ensue, They'll suck our breath, or Dr. Pinch us black and blue.”

  “Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!”

  “I am transformed, master, am I not?”

  Antipholus (of Syracuse) answers, “I think thou art in mind, and so am I.”

  “Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.”

  “Thou hast thine own form.”

  “No, I am an ape.”

  Luciana has heard enough from this disobedient servant. “If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass.”

  “'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass. 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be But I should know her as well as she knows me.”

  Adriana, feeling like a betrayed wife, cries out to them, “Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep, Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well.”

  Antipholus (of Syracuse) doesn’t know what to say or do. “Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? Known unto these, and to myself disguised! I'll say as they say and persever so, And in this mist at all adventures go.”

  “Master, shall I be porter at the gate?”

  Adriana answers before “her husband” can say anything in response to Dromio, “Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.”

  As they all prepare to head home together, Luciana scolds “her brother-in-law,” “Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.”

  SCENE FIVE

  The local Antipholus addresses a couple of Ephesian merchants in front of his home, “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 to-morrow 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 charged 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?”

  Antipholus’ servant Dromio responds to his master’s accusations, “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.”

  “I think thou art an ass.”

  “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.”

  “You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer May answer my good will and your good welcome here.”

  Balthazar, one of the merchants talking with Antipholus, responds graciously, “I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear.”

  “O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish.”

  “Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.”

  “And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words.”

  “Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.”

  “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.”

  Antipholus’ servant bangs on the door, yelling at the servants within, “Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn!”

  The visiting Dromio has no desire to get in any more trouble, and responds from inside the locked house, “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.”

  “What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street.”

  “Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet.”

  Antipholus is not happy about being shut out of his own home. “Who talks within there? ho, open the door!”

  From within, the visiting Dromio responds, “Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell me wherefore.”

  “Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day.”

  “Nor to-day here you must not; come again when you may.”

  “What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe?”

  “The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio.”

  The local Dromio hears the response and yells out, “ 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 changed thy face for a name or thy name for an ass.”

  From within, Adriana’s servant, Luce responds, “What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those at the gate?”

  “Let my master in, Luce.”

  “Faith, no; he comes too late; And so tell your master.”

  “O Lord, I must laugh! Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff?”

  “Have at you with another; that's--When? can you tell?”

  “If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast answered him well.”

  Antipholus has been standing outside his home long enough. “Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope?”

  Inside, Luce turns to the visiting Dromio. “I thought to have asked you.”

  “And you said no.”

  Outside, the local Dromio is getting angry. “So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow.”

  Antipholus cannot believe his servants will not let him into his own house. “Thou baggage, let me in.”

  From within, Luce calls out again, “Can you tell for whose sake?”

  Outside, Dromio of Ephesus has had enough. “Master, knock the door hard.”

  “Let him knock till it ache.”

  Antipholus yells at her from outside his home again, “You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down.”

  “What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town?”

  Inside, Adriana hears the noise, and shouts out, “Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise?”

  The Dromio within the walls tells her, “By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys.”

  Antipholus has heard his wife’s voice within. “Are you there, wife? you might have come before.”

  Thinking her own husband is safely inside, Adriana answers him rudely, “Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door.”

  The local Dromio turns to Antipholus and says, “If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore.”

  Angelo, a local goldsmith who has been standing outside watching all of this with Antipholus, finally speaks up. “Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would fain have either.”

  The other merchant, Balthazar, comments as well. “In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.”

  Dromio of Ephesus turns to Antipholus. “They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.”

  “There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.”

  “You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold.”

  “Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate.”

  The visiting Dromio has heard their comments from within, and yells out, “Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate.”

  The local Dromio yells back at him, “A man may break a word wit
h you, sir, and words are but wind, Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.”

  “It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon thee, hind!”

  “Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee, let me in.”

  “Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin.”

  Outside, Antipholus (of Ephesus) yells, “Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow.”

  His servant responds, “A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather; If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.”

  “Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow.”

  Balthazar counsels Antipholus, “Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so! Herein you war against your reputation And draw within the compass of suspect The unviolated honour of your wife. Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom, Her sober virtue, years and modesty, Plead on her part some cause to you unknown: And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse Why at this time the doors are made against you. Be ruled by me: depart in patience, And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, And about evening come yourself alone To know the reason of this strange restraint. If by strong hand you offer to break in Now in the stirring passage of the day, A vulgar comment will be made of it, And that supposed by the common rout Against your yet ungalled estimation That may with foul intrusion enter in And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; For slander lives upon succession, For ever housed where it gets possession.”

  Antipholus nods to him. “You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet, And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. I know a wench of excellent discourse, Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle: There will we dine. This woman that I mean, My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- Hath