And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, Had not their bark been very slow of sail, course. Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. 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. Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, mark'd To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, And live; if not, then thou art doom'd to die:- Gaol. I will, my lord. Ege. Hopeless, and helpless, doth Ægeon wend, But to procrastinate his lifeless end. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A PUBLICK 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, 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 thee. Within this hour it will be dinner-time: Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. [Exit Dro. S: Ant. S. A trusty villain, sir; that very oft, Mer. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, Ant. S. Farewel till then: I will go lose myself, Ant. S. He that commends me to mine own con tent, Commends me to the thing I cannot get. Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Enter Dromio of Ephesus. Here comes the almanack of my true date.- too late: The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; The meat is cold, because you come not home; Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray; Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dro. E. O,-six-pence, that I had o'Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' The saddler had it, sir, I kept it not. crupper;— Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust. So great a charge from thine own custody? Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner: I from my mistress come to you in post; If I return, I shall be post 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 messenger. Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: Dro. E. To me, sir? why you gave no gold to me. Ant. S. Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, And tell me, how thou hast dispos'd thy charge. Dro. E. 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. S. 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 is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate, Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the |