Lightens my humour with his merry jests.
What, will you walk with me about the town,
And then go to my inn and dine with me?
First Merchant 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 consort you till bed-time:
My present business calls me from you now.
OF SYRACUSE Farewell till then: I will go lose myself
And wander up and down to view the city.
First Merchant Sir, I commend you to your own content.
Exit
OF SYRACUSE He that commends me to mine own content
Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:
So I, to find a mother and a brother,
In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
Enter DROMIO of Ephesus
Here comes the almanac of my true date.
What now? how chance thou art return’d so soon?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Return’d so soon! rather approach’d too late:
The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit,
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
She is so hot because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold because you come not home;
You come not home because you have no stomach;
You have no stomach having broke your fast;
But we that know what ’tis to fast and pray
Are penitent for your default to-day.
OF SYRACUSE Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray:
Where have you left the money that I gave you?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS O,–sixpence, that I had o’ Wednesday last
To pay the saddler for my mistress’ crupper?
The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.
OF SYRACUSE I am not in a sportive humour now:
Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?
We being strangers here, how darest thou trust
So great a charge from thine own custody?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS I pray you, air, 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.
OF SYRACUSE 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?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.
OF SYRACUSE Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness,
And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner:
My mistress and her sister stays for you.
OF SYRACUSE 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 undisposed:
Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS I have some marks of yours upon my pate,
Some of my mistress’ marks upon my shoulders,
But not a thousand marks between you both.
If I should pay your worship those again,
Perchance you will not bear them patiently.
OF SYRACUSE Thy mistress’ marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Your worship’s wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;
She that doth fast till you come home to dinner,
And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.
OF SYRACUSE What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,
Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS What mean you, sir? for God’s sake, hold your hands!
Nay, and you will not, sir, I’ll take my heels.
Exit
OF SYRACUSE 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 2
Scene 1
The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA
ADRIANA 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.
LUCIANA 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,
They’ll go or come: if so, be patient, sister.
ADRIANA Why should their liberty than ours be more?
LUCIANA Because their business still lies out o’ door.
ADRIANA Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
LUCIANA O, know he is the bridle of your will.
ADRIANA There’s none but asses will be bridled so.
LUCIANA Why, headstrong liberty is lash’d with woe.
There’s nothing situate under heaven’s eye
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky:
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males’ subjects and at their controls:
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more preeminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.
ADRIANA This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
LUCIANA Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
ADRIANA But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway.
LUCIANA Ere I learn love, I’ll practise to obey.
ADRIANA How if your husband start some other where?
LUCIANA Till he come home again, I would forbear.
ADRIANA Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause;
They can be meek that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more would we ourselves complain:
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me,
But, if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begg’d patience in thee will be left.
LUCIANA Well, I will marry one day, but to try.
Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh.
Enter DROMIO of Ephesus
ADRIANA Say, is your tardy master now at hand?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, he’s at two hands with me, and that my two ears
can witness.
ADRIANA Say, didst thou speak with him? know’st thou his mind?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear:
Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.
LUCIANA Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his
blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce
understand them.
ADRIANA But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he
hath great care to please his wife.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.
ADRIANA Horn-mad, thou villain!
DROMIO OF EPHESUS I mean not cuckold-mad;
But, sure, he is stark mad.
When I desired him to come home to dinner,
He ask’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 mistress, sir’ quoth I; ‘Hang up thy mistress!
I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!’
LUCIANA Quoth who?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS 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.
ADRIANA Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Go back again, and be new beaten home?
For God’s sake, send some other messenger.
ADRIANA Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS And he will bless that cross with other beating:
Between you I shall have a holy head.
ADRIANA Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.
DROMIO OF EPHESUS Am I so round with you as you with me,
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.