Adr. None, but an idiot, would be bridled so.
Luc. Why, headstrong liberty belongs to man,
And ill befits a woman's gentle mind.

There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in sea, and air;
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged tribes,
Are their males' subjects, and at their controul.
Man, more divine, the master of them all,
Indued with intellectual sense and soul,
Is master to his female--nay, her lord!
Let, then, your will attend on his commands.

Adr. This servitude makes you remain unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage state.
Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear some
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, tired 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 patient,

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 thou, who hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
Would'st comfort me, by urging helpless patience;
But should'st 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 husband near.

5

Enter DROMIO OF EPHESUS.

Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? 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 could'st 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!

Dro. of Eph. I mean not cuckold-mad, but sure he's 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-
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. 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 hither.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him

home.

Dro. of Eph. Go back again, and be new beaten home!

For Heaven's sake, send some other messenger. Adr. Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.

Dro. of Eph. Am I so round with you, as you with

me,

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 lowereth on your brow!
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
While I, at home, starve for a cheerful look.
Hath homely age th' alluring beauty stole
From my poor cheek? no, he hath wasted it.
Are my discourses low? barren my wit?
If voluble and sharp discourse be dull'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 fortunes.
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd? Then is he the cause
Of my defeatures-my decayed beauty,
A sunny look of his would soon repair:
But, too unruly deer! he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home-poor I am left despised.
Luc. Self-harming jealousy! fie! beat it hence.
Adr. I know his eye doth homage other-where,
Or else, what lets it but he would be here?
Sister, you know he promised me a bracelet-
Some stranger fair hath caught his truant eye,
And triumphs in the gifts design'd for me.
Such trifles yet with ease I could forego,
So I were sure he left his heart at home!

I see the jewel best enamelled

Will lose its lustre-So doth Adriana,
Whom once, unwearied with continual gazing,
He fondly call'd the treasure of his life!
Now, since my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and, weeping, die.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

The Mart.

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 received no gold!
Your mistress sent, to have me home to dinner!
My house was at the Phoenix! 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 receipt,

And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner;
For which, I hope, thou felt'st, I was displeased.
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 earnest

Upon 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 demeanour 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 Sur. Why, first, for flouting me, and then,
for urging

It, in spite of my assertion to the contrary.
Is dinner ready?

Dro. of Syr. No, sir; I think the meat wants what
I've got.

Ant. of Syr. What's that?

Dro. of Syr. Why, basting, sir.

Ant. of Syr. No more, thou knave! for see, who wafts us yonder.

This way they haste, and, by their gestures, seem To point out me-what should they mean, I trow?

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

Adr. Ay, ay, Antipbolis, look strange and frown Some other mistress hath some sweeter aspect: I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.