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 its 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 mafters 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 mafters 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; Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Adr. Say, did't thou speak with him? know'ft thou his mind? E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told me his mind upon mine ear. Befarew his hand, I fearce 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 his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could fcarce underftand them. Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It feems he hath great care to please his wife. E. Dro. Why, mistress, 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: E. Dro. Quoth my mafter: I know, quoth he, no houfe, no wife, no mistress; I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; 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 meffenger. Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate acrofs. E. Dro. And he will blefs that crofs with other beat 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 fpurn me thus ? You fpurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I laft in this fervice, you must case me in leather. SCENE III. [Exit. Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face? Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look. From my poor cheek? then, he hath wasted it. And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. Or else what lets it, but he would be here? Will lose his beauty; and the gold bides ftill, SCENE IV. Changes to the street. 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? You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold? S. Dro. What answer, Sir? when fpake I fuch a word? Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. 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 didst deny the gold's receipt; And told'ft me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which I hope thou felt 'ft I was difpleas'd. S. Dro. I'm glad to see 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 jeft is earneft; Upon what bargain do you give it me? Ant. Becaufe that I familiarly fometimes And make a common of my ferious hours. *Method, for instruction. your fconce. * S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? fo you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head; an you use these blows long, 1 muft get a fconce for my head, and infconce it too, or else I fhall feek my wit in my shoulders. But, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ? Ant. Doft thou not know? S. Dro. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten. Ant. Shall I tell you why? S. Dro. Ay, Sir, and wherefore; for, they fay, every why hath a wherefore. Ant. Why, frft, 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 feafon, 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, unurg'd, wouldst vow, That never words were mufic to thine ear, • That never object pleasing in thine cye, • That never touch well welcome to thy hand, When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime nor reafon? Well, Sir, I thank you. 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 something. But fay, Sir, is it dinner-time? S. Dro. No, Sir, think the meat wants that I have. Ant. In good time, Sir, what's that? S. Dro. Bafting. Ant. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry. S. Dro. If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it. Ant. Your reafon ? S. Dro. Left it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry-bafting. Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jest in good time; there's a time for all things. S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were so choleric. Ant. By what rule, Sir! S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald paté of father Time himself. Ant. Let's hear it. S. Dro. 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 such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? and S. Dro. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; what he hath seanted 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 a 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 lofes it in a kind of jollity. Ant. For what reafon? |