Adr. There's none but affes will be bridled fo. Luc. Why, head-ftrong liberty is lafh'd with woe. There's nothing fituate under heav'n's eye, But hath is bound in earth, in sea, in sky: The beafts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their males' fubjects, and at their controuls. Men more divine, the masters of all these, Lords of the wide world, and wide wat'ry feas, Endu'd with intellectual sense and foul, Of more preheminence than fish and fowl, Are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords. Adr. This fervitude makes you to keep unwed. But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, Luc. Well, I will marry one day but to try; SCENE II. Enter Dromio of Ephefus. Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? E. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witnefs. Adr. Say, did't thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told me his mind upon mine ear. Bethrew his hand, I fcarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou could'ft not feel his meaning? E. Dro. Nay, he ftruck fo plainly, I could too well feel feel his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could fcarce understand them. Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It feems he hath great care to pleafe his wife. E. Dro. Why, mittrefs, fure my mafter is horn-mad. Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain ! E. Dro. I mean not cuckold-mad; but fure he's stark When I defir'd him to come home to dinner, [mad: He afk'd me for a thousand marks in gold : 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; My gold, quoth he: E. Dro. Quoth my mafter: I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress; I thank him, bare home upon my fhoulders; Adr. Go back again, thou flave, and fetch him home. E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home! For God's fake fend fome other messenger. Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate across. ing: Between you I fhall have a holy head. Adr. Hence, prating peafant, fetch thy mafter home. E. Dro. Am I fo round with you as you with me, That like a foot-ball you do ípurn me thus? You fpurn me hence, and he will fpurn me hither: If I laft in this fervice, you must cafe me in leather. [Exit. Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face? From From my poor cheek? then, he hath wafted it. Will lofe his beauty; and the gold bides still, Enter Antipholis of Syracufe. Ant. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up Enter Dromio of Syracufe. How now, Sir? is your merry humour alter'd? X 3 You You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold? S. Dro. What answer, Sir? when spake I fuch a word? Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour fince. S. Dro. I did not fee you fince you fent me hence Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. Villain, thou didft deny the gold's receipt; And told'ft me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which I hope thou felt'it I was difpleas'd. S. Dro. I'm glad to fee you in this merry vein: What means this jeft, I pray you, master, tell me? Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'ft thou I jeft? hold, take thou that, and that. [Beats Dro. S. Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jest is earneft; Upon what bargain do you give it me? Ant. Because that I familiarly fometimes And make a common of my ferious hours. *Metked, for instruction. t your fconce. SCENE S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? fo you would leave hattering, I had rather have it a head, an you use these blows long, I must get a fconce for my head, and infconce it too, or elte I fhall feek my wit in my houlders. But, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ? Ant. Doft thou not know? S. Dro. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten. S. Dro. Ay, Sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore. Ant. Why, firft, for flouting me; and when wherefore, for urging it the fecond time to me. S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season. When SCENE V. Enter Adriana and Luciana. Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholis, look strange and frown, Some other mistress hath thy fweet afpects: I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou, unurge'd, wouldft vow • That never touch well welcome to thy hand, • That When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime nor reason ? Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what? S. Dro. Marry, Sir, for this fomething that you gave me for nothing. Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for fomething. But fav, Sir, is it dinner time? S. Dro. No, Sir, I think the meat wants that I have. Ant. In good time, Sir, what's that? S. Dro. Bafting. An. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry. S. Dro If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it. Ant. Your reason? S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchase me another drybafting. Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jeft in good time; there's a time for all things. S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were fo choleric. Ant. By what rule, Sir? S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of father Time himself. Ant. Let's hear it, S. Dio. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature. Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery? S. Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the loft hair of another man. Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of hair, being, as it is, fo plen tiful an excrement? S. Dro. Because it is a bleffing that he bestows on beasts; and what he hath fcanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit. Ant. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. S. Dro. Not man of those, but he hath the wit to lofe his hair. Ant. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft; yet he lofeth it in a kind of jollity. Ant. For what reafon ? S. Dr. |