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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.
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.
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?
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 home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is hornmad.
Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?
Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's stark mad:
When I desir'd him to come home to dinner,
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;
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
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 That like a foot-ball 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. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait? That's not my fault, he's master of my state: What ruins are in me, that can be found By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground Of my defeatures: My decayed fair
sunny look of his would soon repair:
Luc. Self-harming jealousy!—fie, beat it hence.
I know his eye doth homage otherwhere;
Or else, what lets it but he would be here?