_First Mer._ Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day a Syracusian merchant Is apprehended for arrival here; And, not being able to buy out his life, 5 According to the statute of the town, Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. There is your money that I had to keep. _Ant. S._ Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. 10 Within this hour it will be dinner-time: Till that. I’ll view the manners of the town, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, And then return, and sleep within mine inn; For with long travel I am stiff and weary. 15 Get thee away. _Dro. S._ Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. [_Exit._ _Ant. S._ A trusty villain, sir; that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, 20 Lightens my humour with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to my inn, and dine with me? _First Mer._ I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, Of whom I hope to make much benefit; 25 I crave your pardon. Soon at five o’clock, Please you, I’ll meet with you upon the mart, And afterward consort you till bed-time: My present business calls me from you now. _Ant. S._ Farewell till then: I will go lose myself, 30 And wander up and down to view the city. _First Mer._ Sir, I commend you to your own content. [_Exit._ _Ant. S._ He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water, 35 That in the ocean seeks another drop; Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. 40 _Enter _DROMIO of Ephesus_._ Here comes the almanac of my true date. What now? how chance thou art return’d so soon? _Dro. E._ Return’d so soon! rather approach’d too late: The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; 45 My mistress made it one upon my cheek: She is so hot, because the meat is cold; The meat is cold, because you come not home; You come not home, because you have no stomach; You have no stomach, having broke your fast; 50 But we, that know what ’tis to fast and pray, Are penitent for your default to-day. _Ant. S._ Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: Where have you left the money that I gave you? _Dro. E._ O,--sixpence, that I had o’ Wednesday last 55 To pay the saddler for my mistress’ crupper? The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.