Tell me and dally not, where is the mony?
We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust
So great a charge from thine own cuftody?

E. Dro. I pray you, jest, Sir, as you fit at dinner:

Ifrom my mistress come to you in poft,
If I return, I shall be poft indeed;
For she will score your fault upon my pate:
Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock,
And strike you home without a meffenger.

Ant. 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?

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 dispos'd thy charge.

E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
Home to your house, the Phenix, Sir, to dinner;
My mistress and her fister stay for you.

Ant. Now as I am a christian answer me,
In what fafe place you have bestow'd my mony;
Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours,
That ftands on tricks when I am undispos'd:
Where are the thousand marks thou hadft of me ?

E. Dro. I have fome 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. Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou ? E. Dro. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phænix 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 holi

your hands;

Nay, an you will not, Sir, I'll take my heels. [Ex.Dromio. Ant. Upon my life, by some device or other,

The villain is o'er-raught of all my mony.

They say, this town is full of couzenage;

H 3

As,

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 so, I will be gone the fooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave;
I greatly fear my mony is not safe.

Adr.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Exit

The House of Antipholis of Ephesus.
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
Either my husband, nor the flave return'd,
That in fuch hafte I fent to seek his master

N

Sure, Luciana, it is two a clock.

Luc. Perhaps some 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 master, and when they fee 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 lyes out a-door.
Adr. Look, when I serve him so, 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-strong liberty is lasht with wo.

There's nothing fituate under heav'n's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in fea, and sky:
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their male's subjects, and at their controuls :
Men more divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world, and wide wat'ry seas,
Indu'd with intellectual sense and foul,
Of more preheminence than fish and fowl,
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.

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 tho 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 burden'd with like weight of pain, As much, or more we should our selves complain; So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience would'st 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 master now at hand? E. Dro. 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 ?

E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear,

Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.

Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou could'st not feel his meaning?

E. Dro. 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.

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

E. Dro. I mean not cuckold-mad; but sure stark mad: When I defir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'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?

H3

The

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 house, no wife, no mistress;

So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders:

For in conclufion, he did beat me there.

Adr, Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.
E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home?

For God's fake send some other messenger.

Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
E. Dro. 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. E. Dro. Am I so round with you as you with me, That like a foot-ball you do spurn me thus ? You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither:

If I last in this service, you must cafe me in leather. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face!
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
Whilst I at home starve for a merry look:
Hath homely age th' 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 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 stale.

Luc. Self-harming jealoufie; fie, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs dispense:

:

I know his eye doth homage other-where;
Or else what lets it but he would be here?
Sister, 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 see the jewel best enameled
Will lose his beauty; and tho' gold bides still
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 serve 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 seek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, since at first
I sent 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, 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 Phenix? wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?

}

S. Dro. What answer, Sir? when spake I such 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'st me of a mistress and a dinner; For which I hope thou felt'st I was displeas'd.

S. Dro. I'm glad to fee you in this merry vein : What means this jest, I pray you, master, 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. S. Dro