Dro. Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having fo good a means.

[Exit Dromie. Ant. A trufty villain, Sir, that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, Lightens my humour with his merry jefts. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to the inn and dine with me?

Mer. I am invited, Sir, to certain merchants, Of whom I hope to make much benefit: I crave your pardon. Soon, at five o'clock, Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart, And afterward confort with you 'till bed-time: My prefent bufinefs calls me from you now.

Ant. Farewell 'till then; I will go lofe myself, And wander up and down to view the city. Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. [Exit Merchant.

Ant. He that commends me to my own content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the ocean feeks another drop, Who falling there to find his fellow forth, Unfeen, inquifitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In queft of them, unhappy, lofe myself.

Enter Dromio of Ephefus.

Here comes the almanack of my true date.

What now? how chance thou art return'd fo foon? E. Dro. Return'd fo foon! rather approach'd too

late:

The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit.
The clock has ftrucken twelve upon the bell;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek;
She is fo hot, because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold, becaufe you come not home;
You come not home, because you have no flo-

mach;

You have no ftomach, having broke your fast;

But we, that know what 'tis to faft and pray,
Are penitent for your default to day.

Ant. Stop in your wind, Sir; tell me this, I pray, Where you have left the money that I gave you? E. Dro. Oh,-sixpence, that I had a Wednesday Jaft,

To pay the faddler for my mistress' crupper?
The fadler had it, Sir; I kept it not.

Ant. I am not in a sportive humour now;
Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?
We being ftrangers here, how dar'ft thou truft
So great a charge from thine own cuftody?

E. Dro. I pray you, jeft, Sir, as you fit at dinner: I from my mistrefs come to you in post; If I return, I fhall be post indeed;

For fhe will fcore your fault upon my pate:
Methinks your maw, like mine, fhould be your
And ftrike you home without a meffenger. [clock;
Ant. Come, Dromio, come, these jefts are out of
feafon;

Referve 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 foolifhnefs;

And tell me how thou haft difpos'd thy charge?
E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from

the mart

Home to your house, the Phoenix, Sir, to dinner: My miftrefs and her fifter stay for you.

Ant. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me In what fafe place you have beftow'd my money; Or I fhall break that merry fconce of yours, That ftands on tricks when I am undifpos'd. Where are the thousand marks thou hadst of me? E. Dro. I have fome marks of yours upon my pate; Some of my miftrefs' marks upon my fhoulders; But not a thoufand marks between you both.If I fhould pay your worship thofe again, Perchance you will not bear them patiently. Ant. Thy miftrefs' marks? what miftrefs, 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, Sir Knave.
E. Dro. What mean you, Sir? for God's fake
hold your hands.

Nay, an you will not, Sir, 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 libertines of fin;
If it prove fo, I will be gone the fooner.
I'll to the Centaur to go seek this flave;
I greatly fear my money is not fafe.

ACT II.

SCENE I

[Exit.

The House of Antipholus of Ephefus.

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adriana.

Either my hufband nor the flave return'd,

NE

That in fuch hafte I fent 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 mafter of his liberty:

Time is their master; and when they fee time,
They'll go or come if fo, be patient, fifter.
Adr. Why fhould their liberty than ours be more?
Luc. Because their business still lyes out a-door.

†That is, over-reached. Johnson.

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-strong liberty is lafh'd with woe.
There's nothing fituate under heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in fea, in sky:
The beafts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' fubjects, and at their controuls:
Man, more divine, the mafter of all these,
Lord of the wide world, and wide wat'ry feas,
Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and soul,

Of more pre-eminence than fifh and fowl,
Are mafters 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 practife to obey.

Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. 'Fill he come home again, I would forbear, Adr. Patience unmov'd,—no marvel tho' fhe paufe; 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 fhould ourselves complain. So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helplefs patience wouldft 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? *She feems to mean, by fool-begg'd patience, that pa tience which is fo near to idiotical fimplicity, that your next relation would take advantage from it to reprefent you as fool, and beg the guardianship of your fortune. Johns.

E. Dro. Nay, he's 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 scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou couldft 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 seems he hath great care to please his wife. E. Dro. Why, mistress, fure my mafter is hornmad.

Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?

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 home, 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 miftrefs, Sir, quoth I. Hang up thy miftreis;
I know not thy miftrefs; out on thy miftrefs!
Luc. Quoth who?

E. Dro. Quoth my mafter.

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 fhoulders:
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? or God's fake fend fome other messenger.

Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate acrofs. E. Dro. And he will blefs that crofs with other Between you I fhall have a holy head. [beating. Adr. Hence, prating peafant, fetch thy mafter home.