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,
They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister.

Adr.
Why should their liberty than ours be more?

Luc.
Because their business still lies out o' door ^note.

Adr.
Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill ^note.

Luc.
O, know he is the bridle of your will.

Adr.
There's none but asses will be bridled so.

Luc.
Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd ^note with woe.
There's nothing situate under heaven's eye
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: ^note
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subjects ^note and at their controls:
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,

Lords ^note of the wide world and wild watery ^note seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls ^note,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.

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 ^note some other where ^note?

Luc.
Till he come home ^note again, I would forbear.

Adr.
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 burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain:
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience wouldst ^note relieve me;
But, if thou live to see ^note like right bereft,
This fool-begg'd ^note patience in thee will be left.

Luc.
Well, I will marry one day, but to try.
Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. ^noteEnter Dromio of Ephesus.

Adr.
Say, is your tardy master now ^note at hand?

Dro. E.

Nay ^note, he's at two hands with me, and ^note that my two ^note 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 ^note so doubtfully ^note, that ^note I could scarce understand them.

Adr.
But say, I prithee, is he coming home?
It seems he hath great care to please his wife.

Dro. E.
Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.

Adr.
Horn-mad, thou villain!

Dro. E.
I mean not cuckold-mad;
But, sure, he is ^note stark mad.
When I desired him to come home to dinner,
He ask'd me for a thousand ^note 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 ^note?’ 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 ^note; out on thy mistress ^note!’

Luc.
Quoth who?

Dro. E.
Quoth ^note 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 ^note home upon my ^note shoulders;
For, in conclusion, he did beat me there ^note. ^note

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 beating:
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 with me,
That like a football you do spurn me thus?
You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither:
If I last ^note in this service, you must case me in leather. [Exit. ^note

Luc.
Fie, how impatience lowereth in your face! ^note

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 ^note 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
A sunny look of his would soon repair:
But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale.

Luc.
Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence!

Adr.
Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense.
I know his eye doth homage otherwhere;
Or else what lets it but he would be here?
Sister, you know he promised me a chain;
Would that alone, alone ^note he would detain,

So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
I see the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the ^note gold bides still,
That others touch ^note, and ^note often touching will ^note
Wear ^note gold: and no man ^note that hath a name,
By ^note falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away ^note, and weeping die.

Luc.
How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! [Exeunt. ^note

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