ADRIANA. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep Whilst man and master laughs my woes to scorn. Come, sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gate. Husband, I’ll dine above with you today, 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. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Sleeping or waking, mad, or well-advis’d? Known unto these, and to myself disguis’d! I’ll say as they say, and persever so, And in this mist at all adventures go. DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, shall I be porter at the gate? ADRIANA. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. LUCIANA. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. [_Exeunt._] ACT III SCENE I. The same Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio of Ephesus, Angelo the goldsmith and Balthasar the merchant. 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’re sad, Signior Balthasar; pray God our cheer May answer my good will and your good welcome here. BALTHASAR. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear. ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. O, Signior Balthasar, either at flesh or fish A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. BALTHASAR. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And welcome more common, for that’s nothing but words. BALTHASAR 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, Ginn! 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.