The Comedy of Errors: Act III

Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all;
My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours.

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.

I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear.

Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.

Ay, to a niggardly host and more sparing guest.

Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call’st for such store
When one is one too many?

Right, sir, I’ll tell you when an you’ll tell me wherefore.

Have at you with a proverb: shall I set in my staff?

We would fain have either.

And that supposèd by the common rout
Against your yet ungallèd estimation
That may with foul intrusion enter in
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead;
For slander lives upon succession,
Forever housèd where it gets possession.

And that supposèd by the common rout
Against your yet ungallèd estimation
That may with foul intrusion enter in
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead;
For slander lives upon succession,
Forever housèd where it gets possession.

I will depart in quiet
And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.

This woman that I mean,
My wife—but, I protest, without desert—
Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal;
To her will we to dinner.

Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
I’ll knock elsewhere, to see if they’ll disdain me.

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.

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.

’Tis double wrong to truant with your bed
And let her read it in thy looks at board.

Sing, Siren, for thyself, and I will dote.

Spread o’er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
And as a bed I’ll take them and there lie,
And in that glorious supposition think
He gains by death that hath such means to die.

A very reverend body, ay, such a one as a man may not speak of without he say “sir-reverence.”

I warrant her rags and the tallow in them will burn a Poland winter.

But I guess it stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

O, sir, upon her nose, all o’erembellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires,
declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadas of carracks to be ballast at her nose.

O, sir, upon her nose, all o’erembellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires,
declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadas of carracks to be ballast at her nose.

To conclude: this drudge or diviner laid claim to me, called 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.

To conclude: this drudge or diviner laid claim to me, called 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.

To conclude: this drudge or diviner laid claim to me, called 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.

Go, hie thee presently.

She that doth call me husband, even my soul
Doth for a wife abhor.

Fare you well.