Before 'The Porpentine'.
 Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	There's not a man I meet but doth salute me
	As if I were their well-acquainted friend,
	And everyone doth call me by my name.
	Some tender money to me, some invite me,
	Some other give me thanks for kindnesses,
	Some offer me commodities to buy;
	Even now a tailor called me in his shop
	And showed me silks that he had bought for me,
	And therewithal took measure of my body.
	Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
	And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.

                        Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.

Dromio
of Syracuse	Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have you got 
	the picture of old Adam new-apparelled?

Antipholus
of Syracuse	What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?

Dromio
of Syracuse	Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that 
	keeps the prison. He that goes in the calf's-skin that was 
	killed for the prodigal; he that came behind you, sir, like 
	an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	I understand thee not.

Dromio
of Syracuse	No? Why, 'tis a plain case. - He that went like a bass viol 
	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 exploits with his mace 
	than a morris-pike.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	What, thou mean'st an officer?

Dromio
of Syracuse	Ay, 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'.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ships 
	puts forth tonight? May we be gone?

Dromio
of Syracuse	Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark 
	'Expedition' put forth tonight, 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.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	The fellow is distract, and so am I,
	And here we wander in illusions.
	Some blessd power deliver us from hence!

                            Enter a COURTESAN.

Courtesan	Well met, well met, master Antipholus.
	I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
	Is that the chain you promised me today?

Antipholus
of Syracuse	Satan avoid! I charge thee tempt me not.

Dromio
of Syracuse	Master, is this mistress Satan?

Antipholus
of Syracuse	It is the devil.

Dromio
of Syracuse	Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam, and here she 
	comes in the habit of a light wench; and thereof comes that 
	the wenches say 'God damn me' - that's as much as to say 
	'God make me a light wench'. It is written they appear to 
	men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and 
	fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not 
	near her.

Courtesan	Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
	Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here.

Dromio
of Syracuse	Master, if you do, expect spoonmeat, or bespeak a long 
	spoon.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	Why, Dromio?

Dromio
of Syracuse	Marry, he must have along spoon that must eat with the 
	devil.

Antipholus
of Syracuse	Avoid then, fiend! What tell'st thou me of supping?
	Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress.
	I conjure thee to leave me and be gone.

Courtesan	Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
	Or for my diamond the chain you promised,
	And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.

Dromio
of Syracuse	Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail,
	A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
	A nut, a cherry-stone;
	But she, more covetous, would have a chain.
	Master, be wise; an if you give it her,
	The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.

Courtesan	I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain.
	I hope you do not mean to cheat me so?

Antipholus
of Syracuse	Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.

Dromio
of Syracuse	'Fly pride' says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
								  [Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO.

Courtesan	Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad,
	Else would he never so demean himself.
	A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
	And for the same he promised me a chain;
	Both one and other he denies me now.
	The reason that I gather he is mad,
	Besides this present instance of his rage,
	Is a mad tale he told today at dinner
	Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.
	Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits,
	On purpose shut the doors against his way.
	My way is now to hie home to his house,
	And tell his wife that, being lunatic,
	He rushed into my house and took perforce
	My ring away. This course I fittest choose,
	For forty ducats is too much to lose.
												[Exit.
