SOLINUE, Duke of Ephesus.

Appears, Act I. sc. 1. Act V. sc. 1.

ÆGEON, a merchant of Syracuse.

Appears, Act I. sc. 1. Act V. sc. 1.

ANTIFHOLUS OF EPHESUS, twin-brother to Antipholus of Syracuse, but unknown to him, and son to Ægeon and Emilia.

Appears. Act III. sc. 1. Act IV. se. 1. Act V. sc. 1. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, twin-brother to Antipholus of Ephesus, but unknown to him, and son to Ægeon and Emilia.

Appears, Act I. sc. 2. Act II. sc. 2. Act III. sc. 2.
Act IV. sc. 3; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 1.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS, twin-brother to Dromio of Syra-
cuse, and an attendant on Antipholus of Ephesus.
Appears, Act I. sc. 2. Act II. sc. 1. Act III. sc. 1.
Act IV. sc. 1; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 1.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, twin-brother to Dromio of
Ephesus, and an attendant on Antipholus of Sy-

racuse.

Appears, Art I. sc. 2. Act II. sc. 2. Act III. sc. 1; sc. 2. Act IV. sc. 1; sc. 2; sc. 3; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 1.

BALTHAZAR, a merchant.

Appears, Act III. sc. 1. ANGELO, a goldsmith.

Appears, Act III. sc. 1; sc. 2. Act IV. sc. 1. Act V. sc. 1

A Merchant, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse,
Appears, Act 1. sc. 2. Act IV. sc. 1. Act V. sc. 1.
PINCH, a schoolmaster and a conjurer.
Appears, Act IV. sc. 4.

EMILIA, wife to Ægeon, an abbess at Ephesus
Appears, Act V. sc. 1.

ADRIANA, wife to Antipholus of Ephesus.
Appears, Act II. sc. 1; sc. 2; Act IV. sc. 2; sc. 4.
Act V. sc. 1.

LUCIANA, sister to Adriana.

Appears, Act II. sc. 1; sc. 2. Act III. sc. 2. Act IV. sc. 21

sc. 4. Act V. sc. 1.

LUCE, her servant.

Appears, Act III. sc. !

A Courtezan.

Appears, Act IV. sc. 3; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 1.

SCENE I-A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, ÆGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants.

Ege. Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, And, by the doom of death, end woes and all. Duke. Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more; I am not partial, to infringe our laws; The enmity and discord, which of late Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,Who, wanting gilders to redeem their lives, Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods,-Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks. For, since the mortal and intestine jars Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, It hath in solemn synods been decreed, Both by the Syracusans and ourselves, To admit no traffic in our adverse towns: Nay, more, If any, born at Ephesus, Be seen at any Syracusan marts and fairs, Again, If any Syracusan born, Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose; Unless a thousand marks be levied, To quit the penalty, and to ransom him. Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die.

Ege. Yet this my comfort; when your words are done,

My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

Duke. Well, Syracusan, say, in brief, the cause Why thou departedst from thy native home; And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus.

Ege. A heavier task could not have been impos'd,
Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable.
Yet, that the world may witness that my end
Was wrought by nature," not by vile offence,
I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave.
In Syracusa was I born; and wed
Unto a woman, happy but for me,
And by me, too, had not our hap been bad.
With her I liv'd in joy; our wealth increas'd,
By prosperous voyages I often made
To Epidamnum, till my factor's death,
And the great care of goods at random left,
Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:
From whom my absence was not six months old
Before herself (almost at fainting under
The pleasing punishment that women bear)
Had made provision for her following me,
And soon, and safe, arrived where I was.
There had she not been long, but she became
A joyful mother of two goodly sons;

And, which was strange, the one so like the other
As could not be distinguish'd but by names.
That very hour, and in the self-same inn,
A poor mean woman was delivered

Of such a burthen, male twins, both alike:

Those, for their parents were exceeding poor,

By nature-by the impulses of nature, by natural affection, -as opposed to vile offence, the violation of the municipal laws of Ephesus.

I bought, and brought up to attend my sons.
My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,
Made daily motions for our home return:
Unwilling I agreed; alas, too soon. We came aboard:
A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd
Before the always-wind-obeying deep
Gave any tragic instance of our harm:
But longer did we not retain much hope;
For what obscured light the heavens did grant
Did but convey unto our fearful minds

A doubtful warrant of immediate death;
Which, though myself would gladly have embrac'd,
Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,
Weeping before for what she saw must come,
And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear,
Forc'd me to seek delays for them and me.
And this it was,-for other means was none.-
The sailors sought for safety by our boat,
And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us:
My wife, most careful for the latter born,
Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast,
Such as seafaring men provide for storms:
To him one of the other twins was bound,
Whilst I had been like heedful of the other.
The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I,
Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd,
Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast;
And floating straight, obedient to the stream,'
Were carried towards Corinth, as we thought.
At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,
Dispers'd those vapours that offended us;
And, by the benefit of his wished light,
The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered
Two ships from far making amain to us,
Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this:
But ere they came,-O, let me say no more!
Gather the sequel by that went before.

Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so; For we may pity, though not pardon thee.

Ege. O, had the gods done so, I had not now
Worthily term'd them merciless to us!

For ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues,
We were encounter'd by a mighty rock;
Which being violently borne upon,

Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst,
So that, in this unjust divorce of us,
Fortune had left to both of us alike
What to delight in, what to sorrow for.
Her part, poor soul! seeming as burthened
With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe,
Was carried with more speed before the wind;
And in our sight they three were taken up
By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.
At length, another ship had seiz'd on us;
And, knowing whom it was their hap to save,
Gave healthful welcome to their shipwrack'd guests;
And would have reft the fishers of their prey,
Had not their bark been very slow of sail,
And therefore homeward did they bend their course.
Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss;
That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.

Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Do me the favour to dilate at full

What hath befall'n of them, and thee, till now.

Ege. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,
At eighteen years became inquisitive
After his brother; and importun'd me,
That his attendant (so his case was like,
Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name)
Might bear him company in the quest of him :
Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see,

So his case was like-his case was so like that of Antipholus.

I hazarded the loss of whom I lov'd.
Five summers have I spent in farthest Greece,
Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia,
And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus;
Hopeless to find, yet loth to leave unsought,
Or that, or any place that harbours men.
But here must end the story of my life;
And happy were I in my timely death,
Could all my travels warrant me they live.

Duke. Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have mark'd To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, Which princes, would they, may not disannul, My soul should sue as advocate for thee. But, though thou art adjudged to the death, And passed sentence may not be recall'd But to our honour's great disparagement, Yet will I favour thee in what I can: Therefore, merchant, I 'll limit thee this day, To seek thy help by beneficial help: Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus: Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die :Gaoler, take him into thy custody.

SCENE II-A public Place.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse, and a
Merchant.

Mer. Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum,
Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate.
This very day, a Syracusan merchant

Is apprehended for arrival here;
And, not being able to buy out his life,
According to the statute of the town,
Dies ere the weary sun set in the west.
There is your money that I had to keep.

Ant. S. Go, bear it to the Centaur, where we host,
And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee.
Within this hour it will be dinner-time :
Till that, I'll view the manners of the town,
Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return, and sleep within mine inn;
For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
Get thee away.

Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. [Exit DRO. S. Ant. S. A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, Lightens my humour with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to my inn and dine with me?

Mer. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit;
I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,b
Please yon, I'll meet with you upon the mart,
And afterward consort you till bedtime;
My present business calls me from you now.
Ant. S. Farewell till then I will go lose myself,
And wander up and down, to view the city.
Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content.
[Exit Merchant.
Ant. S. He that commends me to mine own content
Commends me to the thing I cannot get.

I to the world am like a drop of water,
That in the ocean seeks another drop;

Laveless. Lifeless and liveless are the same; as lively and

lifely also are the same.

Soon at five o'clock-about five o'clock

Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:
So I, to find a mother and a brother,
In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

Here comes the almanac of my true date.-
What now? How chance thou art return'd so soon?
Dro. E. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late:
The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit;
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell,
My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
She is so hot, because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold, because you come not home;

You come not home, because you have no stomach;
You have no stomach, having broke your fast;
But we, that know what 't is to fast and pray,
Are penitent for your default to-day.

Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray :
Where have you left the money that I gave you?
Dro. E. 0,-sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday
last,

To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper;
The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.

Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now:
Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?
We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust
So great a charge from thine own custody?

Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner :
I from my mistress come to you in post;
If I return. I shall be post indeed ;b

For she will score your fault upon my pate.
Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock,
And strike you home without a messenger.

Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of

season;

Reserve them till a merrier hour than this:
Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?
Dro. E. To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.

SCENE I-A public Place.

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

Ant. S. Come on, sir knave; have done your fool. ishness,

And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge.

Dro. E. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner, My mistress and her sister stay for you.

Ant. S. Now, as I am a christian, answer me, In what safe place you have bestow'd my money; Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, That stands on tricks when I am undispos'd: Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate, Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, But not a thousand marks between you both. If I should pay your worship those again, Perchance, you will not bear them patiently.

Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?

Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;

She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. S. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands;

Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.

b

[Exit DRO. E. Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other, The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. They say this town is full of cozenage; As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, Soul-killing witches that deform the body, Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, And many such like liberties of sin : If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave greatly fear my money is not safe.

Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he 's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine, and never fret: A man is master of his liberty: Time is their master; and when they see time, They'll go, or come: If so, be patient, sister. Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? Luc. Because their business still lies out o' door. Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. O, know, he is the bridle of your will.. Adr. There's none but asses will be bridled so. Late. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe.c There's nothing situate under heaven's eye But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their males' subjects, and at their controls:

• Penitent-in the sense of doing penance.

Post indeed. The post of a shop was used as the tally-board

a publican is now used, to keep the score.

• Lash'd with woe. A lace, a leash, a latch, a lash, is each a

;

Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world, and wild watery seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.

[Exit.

Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
Adr. But were you wedded you would bear some

sway.

Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey.
Adr. How if your husband start some other where?
Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear.
Adr. Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she
pause;

They can be meek that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burthen'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain :
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would relieve me :
But, if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begg'd patienced in thee will be left.
Bestow'd-stowed, deposited.

b O'er-raught-overreached.

strong liberty," and "woe," are bound together-are insepa

The allusion is to the practice of "begging a fool" for the guardianship of his fortune.

Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try ;Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he 's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.

Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind?

Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear. Beshrew his hand! I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubtfully thou couldst not feel his meaning?

Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce understand them."

Adr. But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to please his wife.

Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?

"I know," quoth he, "no house, no wife, no mistress;" So that my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders;
For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.

Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake send some other messenger.

Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other beating:

Between you I shall have a holy head.

Adr. Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus? b You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I last in this service you must case me in leather.

[Exit.

Luc. Fie, how impatience loureth in your face!
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
Whilst I at home starve for a merry look.
Hath homely age the alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it:
Are my discourses dull? barren my wit?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd,
Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard.
Do their gay vestments his affections bait?
That's not my fault, he 's master of my state:
What ruins are in me that can be found
By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground
Of my defeatures: My decayed fair d
A sunny look of his would soon repair:
But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,

And feeds from home: poor I am but his stale.

a Understand them-stand under them.

To be round with any one is to be plain-spoken; as in 'Hamlet'-"Let her be round with him." Dromio uses the

word in a double sense, when he alludes to the footba...
• Defeatures-want of beauty-defect of features.
d Fair-used substantively, for beauty.
Stale-stalking-horse.

Luc. Self-harming jealousy!-fie! beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense
I know his eye doth homage otherwhere;
Or else, what lets it but he would be here?
Sister, you know he promis'd me a chain;-
Would that alone alone he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
I see, the jewel best enamelled

Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, yet often touching will
Wear gold; and so no man that hath a name,
But falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.

Ant. S. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave
Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out.
By computation, and mine host's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, since at first
I sent him from the mart: See, here he comes.

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse.

How now, sir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?

Dro. S. What answer, sir? When spake I such a word?

Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.

Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt st I was displeas'd.

Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein : What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the

teeth?

Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beating him.

Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest is

earnest :

Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes
Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your sauciness will jest upon my love,
And make a common of my serious hours.a
When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport,
But creep in crannies when he hides his beams.
If you will jest with me know my aspect,
And fashion your demeanour to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

Dro. S. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave bat. tering, I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. But, I pray, sir, why am I beaten?

Ant. S. Dost thou not know?

Dro. S. Nothing, sir; but that I am beaten.
Ant. S. Shall I tell you why?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.

The "serious hours" of Antipholus ate his private hours: the "sauciness" of Dromio intrudes upon those hours, and deprives his master of his exclusive possession of them-makes them "a common property.

"

b Insconce it-defend it-fortify it.

Ant. S. By what rule, sir?

The time was once, when thou unurg'd wouldst vow
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well-welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste,
Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to thee.
How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it,
That thou art then estranged from thyself?
Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
That, undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me;
For know, my love, as easy mayst thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,

As take from me thyself, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious!
And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate!
Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the stain'd skin of my harlot brow,
And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring,

jald pate of father Time himself.

Ant. S Let's hear it.

Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature.

Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig, and recover the lost hair of another man.

Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?

Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts: and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.

Ant. S. Why, but there 's many a man hath more hair than wit.

Dro. S. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: Yet he loseta it in a kind of jollity.

Ant. S. For what reason?

Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too.

Ant. S. Nay, not sound, I pray you.

Dro. S. Sure ones then.

Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing."

Dro. S. Certain ones then.

Ant. S. Name them.

Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge.

Ant. S. You would all this time have proved there is no time for all things.

Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, in no time to recover hair lost by nature.

Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover.

Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the world's end, will have bald followers. Ant. S. I knew 't would be a bald conclusion: But sof! who wafts us yonder?

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange, and frown; Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects:

•Falsing the participle of the verb to false.

Tiring-attiring.

Dromio proves that "there is no time for all things," because maa recovers his hair, by means of a periwig, "in no time."

I know thou canst; and therefore, see thou do it.
I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;
My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:
For, if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed;
I live dis-stain'd, thou, undishonoured.

Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you

Dro. S. By me?

Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from him,— That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, Denied my house for his, me for his wife.

Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? What is the course and drift of your compact?

Dro. S. I, sir? I never saw her till this time. Ant. S. Villain, thou liest; for even her very words Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.

Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life.
Ant. S. How can she thus then call us by our names
Unless it be by inspiration?

Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity,
To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I, a vine;
Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,
Makes me with thy strength to communicate:
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, briar, or idled moss;