_Adr._ How if your husband start some other where? 30 _Luc._ Till he come home 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; 35 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 relieve me; But, if thou live to see like right bereft, 40 This fool-begg’d 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. _Enter _DROMIO of Ephesus_._ _Adr._ Say, is your tardy master now at hand? _Dro. E._ Nay, he’s at two hands with me, and that my 45 two 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 50 meaning? _Dro. E._ Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them. _Adr._ But say, I prithee, is he coming home? 55 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 stark mad. When I desired him to come home to dinner, 60 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?’ 65 ‘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!’ _Luc._ Quoth who? _Dro. E._ Quoth my master: 70 ‘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. _Adr._ Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. 75 _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. 80 _Adr._ Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.