158 Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so; For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Egeon. O, had the gods done so, I had not now For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Do me the favour to dilate at full What hath befall'n of them, and thee, till now. Egeon. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, And happy were I in my timely death, SCENE II-A public Place. Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse, and a Merchant. Mer. Therefore, give out, you are of Epidamnum, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day a Syracusan merchant Is apprehended for arrival here; And, not being able to buy out his life According to the statute of the town, Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. There is your money that I had to keep. Ant. S. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thec. Within this hour it will be dinner-time: Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, And then return, and sleep within mine inn; For with long travel I am stiff and weary. Get thee away. Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your word And go indeed, having so good a mean. [Ex. Dro. S. Ant. S. A trusty villain, sir; that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, Lightens my humour with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to my inn, and dine with me? Mer. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, I to the world am like a drop of water, Here comes the almanac of my true date.- late: The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit ; The clock has strucken twelve upon the bell, Duke. Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have mark'd My mistress made it one upon my cheek: To bear the extremity of dire mishap! She is so hot, because the meat is cold; Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray, Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner; Ant. S. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, Dre. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate, Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks! what mistress, slave, hast thou? Dra. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; And She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner; prays, that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. S. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. Dr. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands; Say, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Exit Dro. E. Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other, The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. this town is full of cozenage; They say, As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye, If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner, [Exit. SCENE L-A public Place. Enter Adriana and Luciana. Adriana. 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, They'll go, or some: If so, be patient, sister. Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? Luc. Because their business still lies out o'door. Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. O, know, he is the bridle of your will. Adr. There's none, but asses, will be bridled so. Luc. Why, head-strong liberty is lash'd with woe. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye, But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their males' subjects, and at their controls: Men, more divine, the masters of all these, Lords of the wide world, and wild watry seas, Indued with intellectual sense and souls, Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls, Are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords. Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed. Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. pause; They can be meek, that have no other cause. But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try ;- 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, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? Dro. E. Ay, ay. told his mind upon mine car: 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 masteris 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 home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold : Dro. E. Quoth my master: I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress im I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake, send some other messenger. Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. Dro. E. 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. Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'hides still, [Exeunt. SCENE II-The same. Enter Antipholus of Syra cuse. Ant. S. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up I sent him from the mart: See, here he comes. How now, sir? is your merry humour alter'd? Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. Drv. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. S. 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. Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein : What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beating him. Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest is earnest : Upon what bargain do you give it me? Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes Dro. S. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and insconce it too, or else I shall seek my wit in my should ers. I pray, sir, why am I beaten? Ant. S. Dost thou not know? Dre. S. Nothing, sir; but that I am beaten. Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore. Ant. S. Why, first,-for flouting me; and then, wherefore, For urging it the second time to me. Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season? When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither rhyme nor reason? Ant. S. Let's hear it. Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature. Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man. Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an exerement? Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts: and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit. Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. Dro. S. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair. Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge. Ant. S. You would all this time have proved, there is no time for all things. Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to re cover hair lost by nature. Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. Dre. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the world's end, will have bald follow ers. Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion: But soft! who wafts us yonder? Enter Adriana and Luciana, Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange, and frown; Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects, I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou unurg'd wouldst vow Am better than thy dear self's better part. For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall As take from me thyself, and not me too. I know thou canst; and therefore, see, thou do it. I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; For, if we two be one, and thou play false, I do digest the poison of thy flesh, Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed; Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: In Ephesus I am but two hours old, As strange unto your town, as to your talk; Who, every word by all my wit being scaun'd, Want wit in all one word to understand. 21 Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd with you: When were you wont to use my sister thus? She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. Ant. S. By Dromio? Dro. S. By me? Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from him,That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, Denied my house for his, me for his wife. Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewo- What is the course and drift of your compact? Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life. Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for ber theme: What, was I married to her in my dream? Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this? Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. Luc. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! Dro. S. I am transformed, master, am not I? Ant. S. I think, thou art, in mind, and so am I. Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind, and in my shape. Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. Dro, S. Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Dro. S. Master, shall I be port r at the gate? SCENE I-The same. Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, GOOD signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; And that to-morrow you will bring it home. know: That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think. May answer my good will, and your good welcome here. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear. Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome makes searce one dainty dish. Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feast. Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. But, soft; my door is lock'd:-Go bid them let us in. Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Jen'! Dro. S. [Within.] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch! Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch: Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'dst for such store, When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. Dro. E. What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street. Dro.. Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the door. Dr S. Right, sir, I'll tell you when, an you'll tell me wherefore. Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner; I have not din'd to-day. Dro. S. Nor to-day here you must not; come again, when you may. Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe? Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name; The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. Luce. [Within.] What a coil is there! Dromio, who are those at the gate? Dro. E. Let my master in, Luce. Luce. And so tell your master. Dro. E. Faith, no; he comes too late; O lord, I must laugh:Have at you with a proverb.--Shall I set in my staff? Luce. Have at you with another: that's,-When? can you tell? Dro. S. If thy name be called Luce, Luce, thou hast answer'd him well. Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, Luce. I thought to have ask'd you. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Can you tell for whose sake? Let him knock till it ache. Ant. E. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down? Luce. What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? Adr. [Within.] Who is that at the door, that keeps all this noise? Dro. S. By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys. Ant. E. Are you there, wife? you might have come before. Adr. Your wife, sir knave! go, get you from the door. Dro. E. If you went in pain, master, this knavė would go sore. Ang. Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome; we would fain have either. Bal. In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. Dro. E. They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. Ant. E. There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold: It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. Ant. E. Go, fetch me something, I'll break ope the gate. Dro. S. Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate. Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, sir; and words are but wind; Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not be hind. |