« PreviousContinue »
Are masters to their females, and their lords :
Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
pause; They can be meek, that have no other cause. A wretched soul, 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 should ourselves complain : So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience, would'st relieve me: But, if thou live to see 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 Ephesus.
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 could'st 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 nome?
Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.
Luc. Quoth who?
Dro. E. 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 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 beat
ing : Between you I shall have a holy head.
Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy master
home. Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with mé, That like a football 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.
[Exit. Luc. Fye, how impatience lowreth in your face !
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
Luc. Self-harming jealousy fye, beat it hence.
Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides still,
SCENE II.-The same.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.
Enter Dromio of Syracuse. How now, sir ? is your merry humour alter'd ? As you love strokes, so jest with me again. You know no Centaur? you receiv’d no gold? Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner ? My house was at the Phænix ? Wast thou mad, That thus so madly thou didst answer me? Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a
word ? Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour
since. Dro. 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 ;
Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein:
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
Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes
Ant, S. Dost thou not know?
Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.