DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
There is a fat friend at your master’s house,
That kitchen’d me for you today at dinner.
She now shall be my sister, not my wife.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother.
I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
Will you walk in to see their gossiping?
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
Not I, sir, you are my elder.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
That’s a question, how shall we try it?
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
We’ll draw cuts for the senior. Till then, lead thou first.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS.
Nay, then, thus:
We came into the world like brother and brother,
And now let’s go hand in hand, not one before another.
[Exeunt.]