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If we obey them not, this will ensue:

They’ll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.

Luc.

Why prat’st thou to thyself, and answer’st not?

Dromio, thou [drumble,] thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!

S. Dro.

I am transformed, master, am [not I]?

S. Ant.

I think thou art in mind, and so am I.

S. Dro.

Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.

S. Ant.

Thou hast thine own form.

S. Dro.

No, I am an ape.

Luc.

If thou art chang’d to aught, ’tis to an ass.

S. Dro.

’Tis true she rides me and I long for grass.

’Tis so, I am an ass, else it could never be

But I should know her as well as she knows me.

Adr.

Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,

To put the finger in the eye and weep,

Whilst man and master laughs my woes to scorn.

Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate.

Husband, I’ll dine above with you to-day,

And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.

Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,

Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.

Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well.