| ACT II SCENE I | The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. | |
| | Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA | |
| ADRIANA | 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. | |
| LUCIANA | Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, | 5 |
| | 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. | 10 |
| ADRIANA | Why should their liberty than ours be more? | |
| LUCIANA | Because their business still lies out o' door. | |
| ADRIANA | Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. | |
| LUCIANA | O, know he is the bridle of your will. | |
| ADRIANA | There's none but asses will be bridled so. | 15 |
| LUCIANA | Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. | |
| | There's nothing situate under heaven's eye | |
| | But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: | |
| | The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, | |
| | Are their males' subjects and at their controls: | 20 |
| | Men, more divine, the masters of all these, | |
| | Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, | |
| | Indued with intellectual sense and souls, | |
| | Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, | |
| | Are masters to their females, and their lords: | 25 |
| | Then let your will attend on their accords. | |
| ADRIANA | This servitude makes you to keep unwed. | |
| LUCIANA | Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. | |
| ADRIANA | But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. | |
| LUCIANA | Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. | 30 |
| ADRIANA | How if your husband start some other where? | |
| LUCIANA | Till he come home again, I would forbear. | |
| ADRIANA | Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; | |
| | They can be meek that have no other cause. | |
| | A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, | 35 |
| | We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; | |
| | But were we burdened with like weight of pain, | |
| | As much or more would we ourselves complain: | |
| | So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, | |
| | With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, | 40 |
| | But, if thou live to see like right bereft, | |
| | This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. | |
| LUCIANA | Well, I will marry one day, but to try. | |
| | Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. | |
| | Enter DROMIO of Ephesus | |
| ADRIANA | Say, is your tardy master now at hand? | 45 |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears | |
| | can witness. | |
| ADRIANA | Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: | |
| | Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. | 50 |
| LUCIANA | Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his | |
| | blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce | |
| | understand them. | |
| ADRIANA | But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he | 55 |
| | hath great care to please his wife. | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. | |
| ADRIANA | Horn-mad, thou villain! | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | I mean not cuckold-mad; | |
| | But, sure, he is stark mad. | 60 |
| | 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: | |
| | 'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he. | 65 |
| | '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; out on thy mistress!' | |
| LUCIANA | Quoth who? | 70 |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | 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 there. | 75 |
| ADRIANA | Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | Go back again, and be new beaten home? | |
| | For God's sake, send some other messenger. | |
| ADRIANA | Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | And he will bless that cross with other beating: | 80 |
| | Between you I shall have a holy head. | |
| ADRIANA | Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. | |
| DROMIO OF EPHESUS | 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: | 85 |
| | If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. | |
| | Exit | |
| LUCIANA | Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! | |
| ADRIANA | His company must do his minions grace, | |
| | Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. | |
| | Hath homely age the alluring beauty took | 90 |
| | 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? | 95 |
| | 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 | 100 |
| | But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale | |
| | And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. | |
| LUCIANA | Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence! | |
| ADRIANA | Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. | |
| | I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, | 105 |
| | Or else what lets it but he would be here? | |
| | Sister, you know he promised me a chain; | |
| | Would that alone, alone he would detain, | |
| | So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! | |
| | I see the jewel best enamelled | 110 |
| | Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, | |
| | That others touch, and often touching will | |
| | Wear gold: and no man that hath a name, | |
| | By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. | |
| | Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, | 115 |
| | I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. | |
| LUCIANA | How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! | |
| | Exeunt | |