Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders,
But not a thousand marks between you both.-
If I fhould pay your worship thofe again,
Perchance, you will not hear them patiently.
Ant. Thy mistress' marks! what mistress, flave,
haft thou?
E. Dro. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;
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, fir knave.
E. Dro. What mean you, fir? for God's fake,
hold your hands;
Nay, an you will not, fir, I'll take my heels.
[Exit DROMIO.
Ant. Upon my life, by fome device or other,
The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.
They fay, this town is full of cozenage;
As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye,
Dark-working forcerers, that change the mind,
Soul-killing witches, that deform the body;
Difguifed cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many fuch like liberties of fin:
If it prove fo, I will be gone the fooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go feek this flave;
I greatly fear my money is not fafe.
SCENE I. The Houfe of ANTIPHOLIS of Ephefus Enter ADRIANA, and LUCIANA.
NEITHER my husband, nor the flave return'd, That in fuch hafte I sent to feek his master! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'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 see time,
They'll go or come: If fo, be patient, fifter.
Adr. Why thould their liberty than ours be more
Luc. Because their bufinefs ftill lies out o' 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 lafh'd with woe,
There's nothing, fituate under heaven's eye,
But hath his bound, in earth, in fea, in fky:
The beafts, the fithes, and the winged fowls,
Are their male subject, and at their controuls:
Men, more divine, the mafters of all thefe,
Lords of the wide world, and wild watry feas,
'Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and fouls,
Of more pre-eminence than fith and fowls,
Are masters 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 ftart fome other where ?
Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear. Adr. Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she
They can be meek, that have no other caufe.
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adversity,
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 ourselves complain;
So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would'st relieve me:
But, if thou live to fee 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,
Enter DROMIO of Ephefus.
Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? E. Dro. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.
Adr. Say, did't 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 couldst 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 fcarce understand them.
Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It feems, he hath great care to please his wife. E. Dro. Why, miftrefs, fure my mafter is horn Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain? [mad E. Dro. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, fure, he's 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? 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 mifirefs, fir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress;
I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress !
Luc. Quoth who?
E. Dro. 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 thoulders, 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 meffenger.
Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate acrofs. E. Dro. And he will bless that cross with other Between you I fhall have a holy head. [beating: Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy matter home.
E. Dro. Am I fo round with you, as you with me, That like a foot-ball you do fpurn me thus ?
> You spurn me hence, and he will fpurn me hither:
If I laft in this fervice, you must cafe me in leather.
[Exit.
Luc. Fye, how impatience lowreth in your face!
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look.
Hath homely age the alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek? then, he hath wafted it:
Are my difcourfes 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
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 jealoufy!--fye, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs dif
penfe.
I know his eye doth homage other-where;
Or elfe, what lets it but he would be here?
Sifter, 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 fee, the jewel, beft enamelled,
Will lofe his beauty; and the gold 'bides still,
That others touch; yet often touching will
Wear gold and so no man that hath a name,
But falf-hood and corruption doth it shame.
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