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 'tis to fast and pray, Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray; Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dro. E. O,-six-pence, that I had o'Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper;- Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: 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, For she will score your fault upon my pate. Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your clock, And strike home without a messenger. you Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; Reserve them for 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. ness, And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge. mart Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner; Ant. S. Now, as I am a christian, answer me, Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate, 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 face, you home to dinner. flout me thus unto my 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. [Exit Dromio. 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 5; If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. ACT II. SCENE I. A public Place. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. [Exit. 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, Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? There's nothing, situate under heaven's eye, Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. 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. We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry; But were we burthen'd with like weight of pain, 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 is at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness. Adr. Say, did'st 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 pr'ythee, 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? Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's stark mad: When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: Will you come home? quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; My gold, quoth he: My mistress, sir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress; I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress! |