Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Enter Dromio of Ephesus. Here comes the almanack of my true date.- The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; 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, Το Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: 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 of season; Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? 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 She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner, And 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. Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands; Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Exit Dromio. E. Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other, The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. They say, this town is full of cozenage; As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye, Dark-working sorcerers, that change the mind, Soul-killing witches, that deform the body; Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, And many such like liberties of sin: If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave; I greatly fear, my money is not safe. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I. A PUBLICK PLACE. Enter Adriana and Luciana. 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 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, Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? 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. Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear. Adr. Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she pause; They can be meek, that have no other cause. We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry; But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, Luc. Well I will marry one day, but to try;— Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Enter Dromio of Ephesus. 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, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? |