Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. Till he come home againe, I would forbeare Adr. Patience vnmou'd, no maruel though she pause, They can be meeke, that haue no other cause: A wretched soule bruis'd with aduersitie, We bid be quiet when we heare it crie. But were we burdned with like waight of paine, As much, or more, we should our selues complaine: So thou that hast no vnkinde mate to greeue thee, With vrging helpelesse patience would releeue me; But if thou liue to see like right bereft, This foole-beg'd patience in thee will be left Luci. Well, I will marry one day but to trie: Heere comes your man, now is your husband nie. Enter Dromio Eph. Adr. Say, is your tardie master now at hand? E.Dro. Nay, hee's at too hands with mee, and that my two eares can witnesse Adr. Say, didst thou speake with him? knowst thou his minde? E.Dro. I, I, he told his minde vpon mine eare, Beshrew his hand, I scarce could vnderstand it Luc. Spake hee so doubtfully, thou couldst not feele his meaning E.Dro. Nay, hee strooke so plainly, I could too well feele his blowes; and withall so doubtfully, that I could scarce vnderstand them Adri. But say, I prethee, is he comming home? It seemes he hath great care to please his wife E.Dro. Why Mistresse, sure my Master is horne mad Adri. Horne mad, thou villaine? E.Dro. I meane not Cuckold mad, But sure he is starke mad: When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a hundred markes in gold: 'Tis dinner time, quoth I: my gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burne, quoth I: my gold quoth he: Will you come, quoth I: my gold, quoth he; Where is the thousand markes I gaue thee villaine? The Pigge quoth I, is burn'd: my gold, quoth he: My mistresse, sir, quoth I: hang vp thy Mistresse: I know not thy mistresse, out on thy mistresse Luci. Quoth who? E.Dr. Quoth my Master, I know quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistresse: so that my arrant due vnto my tongue, I thanke him, I bare home vpon my shoulders: for in conclusion, he did beat me there Adri. Go back againe, thou slaue, & fetch him home Dro. Goe backe againe, and be new beaten home? For Gods sake send some other messenger Adri. Backe slaue, or I will breake thy pate a-crosse Dro. And he will blesse y crosse with other beating: Betweene you, I shall haue a holy head Adri. Hence prating pesant, fetch thy Master home Dro. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a foot-ball you doe spurne me thus: You spurne me hence, and he will spurne me hither, If I last in this seruice, you must case me in leather Luci. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face