Comedy Of Errors

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Marry, sir, she's the kitchen wench and all grease;
and I know not what use to put her to but to make a
lamp of her and run from her by her own light. I
warrant, her rags and the tallow in them will burn a
Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday,
she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing half so
clean kept: for why, she sweats; a man may go over
shoes in the grime of it.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Nell, sir; but her name and three quarters, that's
an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from
hip to hip.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip:
she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out
countries in her.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Marry, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war
against her heir.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no
whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin,
by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Oh, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellished with
rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich
aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole
armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this
drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me
Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what
privy marks I had about me, as, the mark of my
shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my
left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch:
And, I think, if my breast had not been made of
faith and my heart of steel,
She had transform'd me to a curtal dog and made
me turn i' the wheel.
ANTIPHOLUS
 
OF SYRACUSE


Go hie thee presently, post to the road:
An if the wind blow any way from shore,
I will not harbour in this town to-night:
If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
Where I will walk till thou return to me.
If every one knows us and we know none,
'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.
 
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE


As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly I from her that would be my wife.

Exit

ANTIPHOLUS
 
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