DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Are you there, wife? you might have come before.
ADRIANA.
Your wife, sir knave? go, get you from the door.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
If you went in pain, master, this knave would go sore.
ANGELO.
Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome. We would fain have either.
BALTHASAR.
In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.
Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold.
It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought and sold.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS.
Go, fetch me something, I’ll break ope the gate.