The Comedy of Errors

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My liege, I am advised what I say; Neither disturb'd with the effect of wine, Nor, heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire, Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.†

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— Signior Andpholus, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble; And, not without some scandal to yourself, With circumstance and oaths so to deny This chain, which now you wear so openly: Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment, You have done wrong to this my honest friend; Who, but for staying on our controversy, Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day; This chain you had of me; can you deny it?†

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Sconce, call you it? so you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and ensconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders.†

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[Exeunt OFFICER, ADRIANA, and LUCIANA.]

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Until I know this sure uncertainty I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy.†

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I will discharge thee ere I go from thee; Bear me forthwith unto his creditor, And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.†

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A grievous fault.†

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I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; Or else what lets it but he would be here?†

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You hear how he importunes me:

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The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell— My mistress made it one upon my cheek: She is so hot because the meat is cold; The meat is cold because you come not home,; You come not home because you have no stomach; You have no stomach, having broke your fast; But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray, Are penitent for your default to-day.†

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this pernicious slave

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Within this hour it will be dinner-time;
Till that, I'll view the manners of the town,
Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return and sleep within mine inn;
For with long travel I am stiff and weary.

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Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, And, by the doom of death, end woes and all.†

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Come, go; I will fall prostrate at his feet, And never rise until my tears and prayers Have won his grace to come in person hither And take perforce my husband from the abbess.†

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Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke

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Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?

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Then, gentle brother, get you in again; Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife: 'tis holy sport to be a little vain When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.†

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...you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness; Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your false love with some show of blindness; Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger; Bear a fair presence though your heart be tainted; Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint; Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?†

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Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss