Tell me and dally not, where is the mony?
We being ftrangers here, how dar'st thou trust
So great a charge from thine own cuftody?
E. Dro. I pray you, jeft, Sir, as you fit at dinner:
I from my miftrefs come to you in poft,
If I return, I fhall be poft indeed ;
For the will score your fault upon my pate:
Methinks your maw, like mine, fhould be your clock,
And ftrike you home without a meffenger.
Ant. Come, Dromio, come, thefe jefts are out of season; Referve them 'till a merrier hour than this:
Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?
E. Dro. To me, Sir? why, you gave no gold to me, Ant. Come on, Sir knave, have done your foolishness, And tell me how thou haft difpos'd thy charge.
E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
Home to your houfe, the Phenix, Sir, to dinner;
My miftrefs and her fifter stay for you.
Ant. Now as I am a chriftian answer me,
In what fafe place you have beftow'd my mony;
Or I fhall break that merry fconce of yours,
That ftands on tricks when I am undifpos'd:
Where are the thoufand marks thou hadft of me?
E. Dro. I have fome marks of yours upon my pate;
Some of my miftrefs' marks upon my fhoulders;
But not a thousand marks between you both.
If I fhould pay your worship thofe again,
Perchance you will not bear them patiently.
Ant. Thy miftrefs' marks? what miftrefs, flave, haft thou?
E. Dro. Your worship's wife, my miftrefs at the Phenix
She that doth faft 'till you come home to dinner;
And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.
Ant. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid there take you that, Sir knave.
E. Dro. What mean you, Sir? for God's fake hold your hands;
Nay, an you will not, Sir, I'll take my heels. [Ex.Dromio.
Ant. Upon my life, by fome device or other,
The villain is o'er-raught of all my mony.
They fay, this town is full of couzenage;
As, nimble juglers, that deceive the eye;
Dark-working forcerers, that change the mind;
Soul-felling witches, that deform the body;
Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many fuch like libertines of fin:
If it prove fo, I will be gone the fooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go feck this slave;
I greatly fear my mony is not fafe.
ACT II. SCENE I.
The Houfe of Antipholis of Ephefus.
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
Either my husband, nor the flave return'd, That in fuch hafte I fent to seek his master Sure, Luciana, it is two a clock.
Luc. Perhaps fome merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he's fomewhere gone to dinner : Good fifter, let us dine, and never fret.
A man is master of his liberty:
Time is their mafter, and when they fee time
They'll go or come; if fo, be patient, fister.
Adr. Why fhould their liberty than curs be more?
Luc. Because their business still lyes out a-door.
Adr. Look, when I ferve him fo, he takes it ill.
Luc. Oh, know he is the bridle of your will.
Adr. There's none but affes will be bridled fo.
Luc. Why, head-ftrong liberty is lafht with wo.
There's nothing fituate under heav'n's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in fea, and fky:
The beafts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their male's fubjects, and at their controls:
Men more divine, the masters of all thefe,
Lords of the wide world, and wide wat'ry feas,
Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and foul,
Of more preheminence than fish and fowl,
Are mafters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.
Adr. This fervitude makes you to keep unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear fome fway.
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 tho' the pause;
They can be meek that have no other caufe:
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adverfity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more we should our felves complain;
So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would't relieve me:
But if thou live to be like right-bereft,
This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.
Luc. Well, I will marry one day but to try;
Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh.
SCENE II. Enter Dromio Eph.
Adr. Say, is your tardy mafter now at hand?
E. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that
two ears can witness.
my Adr. Say, didft thou speak with him? know'ft thou his mind?
E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear, Befhrew his hand, I fcarce could understand it.
Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou could't not feel his meaning?
E. Dro. Nay, he ftruck fo plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them.
Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home?
It seems he hath great care to please his wife.
E. Dro. Why, miftrefs, fure my master is horn-mad. Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?
E. Dro. I mean not cuckold-mad; but fure ftark mad: When I defir'd him to come home to dinner, He afk'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: 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;
Thy mistress I know not; out on thy mistress:
Luc. Quoth who?
E. Dro. Why, quoth my master:
I know, quoth he, no houfe, no wife, no mistress;
So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
I thank him, I bare home upon my fhoulders:
For in conclufion, he did beat me there.
Adr, Go back again, thou flave, and fetch him home. E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's fake fend fome other messenger.
Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate across.
E. Dro. And he will bless that cross with other beating : Between you I fhall have a holy head.
Adr. Hence, prating peafant, fetch thy mafter home.
E. Dro. Am I fo round with you as you with me,
That like a foot-ball you do fpurn me thus ?
You fpurn me hence, and he will fpurn me hither:
If I laft in this fervice, you must cafe me in leather. [Exit.
SCENE III.
Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face!
Adr. His company muft do his minions grace,
Whilst I at home ftarve for a merry look:
Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek? then he hath wafted it.
Are my difcourfes dull? barren my wit?
If voluble and fharp 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 mafter of my ftate.
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
A funny look of his would foon repair.
But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home; poor I am but his ftale.
Luc. Self-harming jealoufie; fie, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs difpenfe :
I know his eye doth homage other-where;
Or else what lets it but he would be here?
Sifter, you know he promis'd me a chain,
Would that alone alas! he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed.
I fee the jewel beft enameled
Will lofe his beauty; and tho' gold bides ftill
That others touch, yet often touching will
Wear gold and fo no man that hath a name,
But falfhood 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 ferve mad jealoufie! [Exe.
SCENE IV. The Street.
Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.
Ant. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur, and the heedful slave
Is wander'd forth in care to feek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
I could not fpeak with Dromio, fince at first
I fent him from the mart. See here he comes.
Enter Dromio of Syracufe.
How now, Sir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, fo jeft with me again.
You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress fent to have me home to dinner ?
My house was at the Phenix? waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didst answer me?
S. Dro. What answer, Sir? when spake I fuch a word? Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. S. Dro. I did not fee you fince you fent me hence Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, And told'ft me of a mistress and a dinner; For which I hope thou felt'ft I was difpleas'd.
S. Dro. I'm glad to fee you in this merry vein: What means this jeft, I pray you, mafter, tell me? Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'ft thou I jeft? hold, take thou that, and that. [Beats Dro.
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