LUCIANA.
Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner.
This is the fairy land; O spite of spites!
We talk with goblins, owls, and sprites;
If we obey them not, this will ensue:
They’ll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.
LUCIANA.
Why prat’st thou to thyself, and answer’st not?
Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
I am transformed, master, am I not?
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.
I think thou art in mind, and so am I.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.
Thou hast thine own form.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
No, I am an ape.
LUCIANA.
If thou art chang’d to aught, ’tis to an ass.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
’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.