The Comedy of Errors | Page 6

earth, in sea,
in sky;
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their
males' subjects, and at their controls:
Man, more divine, the masters

of all these,
Lord of the wide world and wild wat'ry seas,
Indued
with intellectual sense and souls
Of more pre-eminence than fish and
fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
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.
ADRIANA.
How if your husband start some other where?
LUCIANA.
Till he come home again, I would forbear.
ADRIANA.
Patience unmov'd, no marvel though she pause:
They
can be meek that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruis'd with
adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we
burd'ned 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 would relieve me:
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?
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.
LUCIANA.
Spake he so doubtfully thou could'st 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 pr'ythee, is he coming home?
It seems he
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's
stark mad.
When I desir'd 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:
'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?
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.
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:
Between you I shall have a holy head.
ADRIANA.
Hence, prating peasant: fch 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:
If I last in this service, you must case me
in leather.
[Exit.]
LUCIANA.
Fie, how impatience low'reth 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
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?
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.
LUCIANA.
Self-harming jealousy!--fie, beat it hence.
ADRIANA.
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 promis'd 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
Will lose his beauty; yet the
gold 'bides still
That others touch, yet 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,
I'll weep
what's left away, and weeping die.
LUCIANA.
How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE 2. The same.
[Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.]
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.
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.
By computation and mine host's report
I could
not speak with Dromio since at first
I sent him