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Adr. None, but an idiot, would be bridled so?
Luc Why, headstrong liberty belongs to man,
Adr. This servitude makes you remain unwed.
rule, Luc. Before I wed, I'll practise to obey. Adr. How, if your husband start some other where?
Luc. With all the gentle, artificial means, That patient meekness, and domestic cares, Could bring to my relief, I would beguile The intervening hours, till he, tir'd out, With empty, transient pleasures, should return To seek content and happiness at homeWith smiles I'd welcome him, and put in practice Each soothing art, that kindness could suggest, To wean his mind from such delusive joys. Adr, O, special reasoning! well may they be pa
tient, Who never had a cause for anger given them! How easily we cure another's grief! But, were we burden'd with like weight of woe, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. So thuu, who hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, Wouldst comfort mé, by urging helpless patience; But she uldst thou live to see these griefs thine own, This boasted patience would be thrown aside,
Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to tryHere comes your man; now is your
Enter DROMIO OF Ephesus.
Dro. of Eph. Nay, he's 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. of Eph. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon my
ear; Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it!
Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not find his meaning ?
Dro. of Eph. 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 pray thee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife!
Dro. of Eph. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad!
Luc. Horn-mad, thou villain!
he's stark-mad! When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold. 'Tis dinner time, quoth I-my gold, quoth hem Your meat doth burn, quoth 1-my gold, quoth he Where are the thousand marks I
gave thee, villain ? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd-my gold, quoth he My mistress, sir, quoth I-hang up thy mistress! I do not know thy mistress-out on thy mistress !
Luc. Quoth who?
Dro. of Eph. Quoih my masterI 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 hither.
Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him
home. Dro. of Eph. Am I so round with you, as you That, like a foot-ball, you
spurn me thus?
look of his would soon repair:
Luc. Self-barming jealousy! fie! beat it hence.
Adr. I know his eye doth homage other-where,
I see the jewel best enameled
Enter AntiPHOLIS, of Syracuse.
Ant. of Syr. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up Safe at the Centaur, and the heedful slave Is wander'd forth in care to seek me out. Oh, here he comes !
Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. How now,
sir ? is your merry humour alter'd? As you love strokes, so jest with me again. You knew no Centaur ! you receiv'd no gold ! Your mistress sent, to have me home to dinner ! My house was at the Phønix! wert thou mad, That thus, so strangely thou didst answer me? Dro. of Syr. What answer, sir ? when spake I such
a word? Ant. of Syr. Ev'n now, ev’n here; not half an hour
since. Dro. of Syr. I did not see you, since you sent me
hence Home, to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. of Syr. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's re
And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner;
Dro. of Syr. I'm glad to see you in this merry vein; What means this jest, I pray you, master, tell me? Ant. of Syr. What, dost thou jeer, and flout me in
the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? there, take thou that, and that! Dro. of Syr. Hold, sir, for Heaven's sake !-Now
your jest is earnestUpon what bargain do you give it me?
Ant. of Syr. Because that I, familiarly, sometimes, Do use you for my fool, and chat with you, Your sauciness will jest upon my love, And make a common of my serious hours. When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport, But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams. If you will jest with me, then know
my aspect, And fashion
your demeanor to my looks. Dro. of Syr. I pray, sir, why am I beaten? Ant. of Syr. Dost thou not know? Dro. of Syr. Nothing, but that I am beaten. Ant. of Syr. Why, first, for flouting me, and then,
Dro. of Syr. No, sir, I think the meat wants what
wafts us yonder, This way they haste, and, by their gestures, seem To point out me -what should they mean, I trow?
Enter ADRIANA und LUCIANA.