Enter MENECHMUS, the Travailer. Tush, I warrant ye, it shall be done as ye would 25 wish. Ile have it so altered and trimd anew, that it shall by no meanes be knowne againe. Pen. He carries the cloake to the Dyars, dinner done, the wine drunke up, the Parasite shut out of doores. Men. Good goddes, who ever had such lucke as I? ment? And for a farewell, this cloake which I 35 Pen. He speakes so softly, I cannot heare what he saith. I am sure he is now flowting at me for the losse of my dinner. Men. She tels me how I gave it her, and stole it from 40 my wife. When I perceived she was in an error, tho I knew not how, I began to sooth her, and to say every thing as she said. Pen. Wel, I'le go talke with him. Meane while, I far'd Men. Who is this same that comes to me? 45 dealer, craftie and unjust promise-breaker. How Men. Good fellow what meanest thou by these speeches ? Pen. I have received the injury (sure I am) alreadie. 55 Men. Prethee tell me, what is thy name? Pen. Well, well mock on Sir, mock on; doo ye not know my name? Men. In troth I never sawe thee in all my life, much lesse do I know thee. Pen. Fie, awake, Menechmus, awake; ye oversleepe your selfe. Men. I am awake, I know what I say. Pen. Know you not Peniculus ? Men. Peniculus or Pediculus, I know thee not. 60 65 Pen. Did ye filch a cloake from your wife this morning, and bring it hither to Erotium? Men. Neither have I wife, neither gave I my cloake to Erotium, neither filcht I any from any bodie. Per. Will ye denie that which you did in my 70 company? Men. Wilt thou say I have done this in thy company? Men. Away filthie mad drivell away; I will talke no 75 Pen. Not a world of men shall staie me, but Ile go tell his wife of all the whole matter, sith he is at this point with me. I will make this same as unblest a dinner as ever he eate. Men. It makes mee wonder, to see how every one that 80 meets me cavils thus with me. foorth the mayd now? Wherefore comes Enter ANCILLA, EROTIUM'S mayd. Menechmus my mistresse commends her hartily to you, and seeing you goe that way to the Dyars, she also desireth you to take this chaine with you, and 85 put it to mending at the Goldsmythes, she would have two or three ounces of gold more in it, and the fashion amended. Men. Either this or any thing else within my power, tell her, I am readie to acomplish. Anc. Do ye know this chaine, Sir? Men. Yea I know it to be gold. Anc. This is the same you once tooke out of your wives Casket. Men. Who, did I? Anc. Have you forgotten? Men. I never did it. Anc. Give it me againe then. Men. Tarry: yes I remember it: 'tis it I gave your mistres. Anc. O, are ye advised? Men. Where are the bracelets that I gave her likewise? 90 95 100 Men. Faith, when I gave this, I gave them too. 105 Anc. I pray, Menechmus put a litle jewell for my eare to making for me, ye know I am alwaies readie to pleasure you. Men. I will, give me the golde, Ile paie for the worke manship. Anc. Laie out for me, ile paie it ye againe. Men. Alas I have none now. Anc. When you have, will ye? Men. I will. Goe bid your mistresse make no doubt of these. I warrant her, Ile make the best hand I can of them. Is she gone? Doo not all the Gods conspire to loade mee with good lucke? well I see IIO 115 tis high time to get mee out of these coasts, least 120 ACT 4. Enter MULIER, the wife of MENECHMUS the Citizen, Mul. Thinkes he I will be made such a sot, and to be Mul. What shall I do now? Pen. What? that which ye ever do; bayt him for life. Pen. Stay, wee will stand aside a little; ye shall catch Enter MENECHMUS the Citizen. Men. It would make a man at his wittes end, to see 5 ΙΟ how brabbling causes are handled yonder at the 15 all readie to favour his cause. What with facing 20 Pen. How thinke ye by that ? Mul. I thinke him a most vile wretch thus to abuse 35 me. Men. I will hie me thither. Mul. Yea go pilferer, goe with shame inough; no bodie sees your lewd dealings and vile theevery. Men. How now wife, what ail yee? what is the matter? 40 Mul. Aske yee mee whats the matter? Fye uppon thee. Pen. Are you not in a fit of an ague, your pulses beate so sore? to him, I say. Men. Pray wife why are ye so angry with me? Mul. Oh, you know not? Pen. He knows, but he would dissemble it. Men. What is it? Mul. My cloake. 45 Men. Your cloake! 50 Mul. My cloake, man; why do ye blush? Pen. He cannot cloake his blushing. Nay I might not |