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

Ant. of Syr. Come, come, have done your foolish


And tell me how thou hast dispos'd my charge. Dro. of Eph. 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. of Syr. 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 are the thousand marks thou had'st of me?
Dro. of Eph. I have some marks of yours upon my

Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders;
Between you both, they make, perhaps, a thousand:
If I should pay your worship these again,
Perchance you will not take it patiently.

Ant. of Syr. Thy mistress' marks!-What mistress, slave, hast thou?

Dro. of Eph. Your worship's wife, my mistress, at the Phoenix,

She, that doth fast till you come home to dinner.
And prays that you will haste you.

Ant. of Syr. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,

Being forbid ?-There, take you that, sir knave! Dro. of Eph. What mean you, sir ?-for Heaven's sake, hold your hands

Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Exit. Ant. of Syr. Upon my life, by some device or other,

The villain has been trick'd of all my money.

They say, this town is full of cozenage;
If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
Misguided by my hopes, in doubt I stray,
To seek what I, perchance, may never find.
May not the cruel hand of destiny,
Ere this, have render'd all my searches vain?
If so, how wretched has my folly made me!
In luckless hour, alas! I left my home,
And the fond comforts of a father's love,
That only bliss my fortune had in store,
For dubious pleasures on a foreign shore.






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 has 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,

Will come, or go-therefore, be patient, sister.

Adr. Why should their liberty be more than ours? Luc. Because their bus'ness still lies out of door. Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. He is the bridle of your actions, sister.

Adr. None, but an idiot, would be bridled so?
Luc Why, headstrong liberty belongs to man,
And ill befits a woman's gentle mind.
There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in sea, and air;
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged tribes,
Are their males' subjects, and at their control.
Man, more divine, the master of them all,
Indued with intellectual sense and soul,
Is master to his female-nay, her lord!
Let, then, your will attend on his commands.

Adr. This servitude makes you remain unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage state.
Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear some

Luc. Before I wed, I'll practise to obey.

Adr. How, if your husband start some other where? Luc. With all the gentle, artificial means, That patient meekness, and domestic cares, Could bring to my relief, I would beguile The intervening hours, till he, tir'd out, With empty, transient pleasures, should return To seek content and happiness at home— With smiles I'd welcome him, and put in practice Each soothing art, that kindness could suggest, To wean his mind from such delusive joys.

Adr. O, special reasoning! well may they be patient,

Who never had a cause for anger given them!
How easily we cure another's grief!
But, were we burden'd with like weight of woe,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.
So thou, who hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
Wouldst comfort me, by urging helpless patience;
But shouldst thou live to see these griefs thine own,
This boasted patience would be thrown aside.

Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try— Here comes your man; now is your husband near.


Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. of Eph. 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. of Eph. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon my


Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it! Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not find his meaning?

Dro. of Eph. 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 pray thee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife!

Dro. of Eph. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad!

Luc. Horn-mad, thou villain!

Dro. of Eph. 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.
"Tis dinner time, quoth I-my gold, quoth he-
Your meat doth burn, quoth I-my gold, quoth he-
Where are 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 do not know thy mistress-out on thy mistress!
Luc. Quoth who?

Dro. of Eph. 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 conclusion, he did beat me hither.

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

Dro. of Eph. Go back again, and be new beaten home!

For Heav'ns sake, send some other messenger.

Adr. Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master


Dro. of Eph. 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 case me in leather.
Luc. Fie! how impatience lowereth on your brow!
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
While I, at home, starve for a cheerful look.
Hath homely age th' alluring beauty stole
From my poor cheek? no, he hath wasted it.
Are my discourses low? barren my wit?
If voluble and sharp discourse be dull'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 fortunes.
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd?—Then is he the cause
Of my defeatures-my decayed beauty,
A suuny look of his would soon repair:
But, too unruly deer! he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home-poor I am left despis'd.
Luc. Self-harming jealousy! fie! beat it hence.
Adr. 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 bracelet-
Some stranger fair hath caught his truant eye,
And triumphs in the gifts design'd for me.
Such trifles yet with ease I could forego,
So I were sure he left his heart at home!

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