_Dro. S._ No? why, ’tis a plain case: he that went, like a 20 base-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. 25 _Ant. S._ What, thou meanest an officer? _Dro. S._ 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!’ 30 _Ant. S._ Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? _Dro. S._ Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay. 35 Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you. _Ant. S._ The fellow is distract, and so am I; And here we wander in illusions: Some blessed power deliver us from hence! _Enter a _Courtezan_._ _Cour._ Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. 40 I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now: Is that the chain you promised me to-day? _Ant. S._ Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not. _Dro. S._ Master, is this Mistress Satan? _Ant. S._ It is the devil. 45 _Dro. S._ 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 to say, ‘God make me a light wench.’ It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of 50 fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her. _Cour._ Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here? _Dro. S._ Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat; or bespeak 55 a long spoon. _Ant. S._ Why, Dromio? _Dro. S._ Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil. _Ant. S._ Avoid then, fiend! what tell’st thou me of supping? 60 Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress: I conjure thee to leave me and be gone. _Cour._ 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. 65 _Dro. S._ 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, 70 The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it. _Cour._ I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain: I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. _Ant. S._ Avaunt, thou witch! --Come, Dromio, let us go. _Dro. S._ ‘Fly pride,’ says the peacock: mistress, that you know.