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LUCIANA

   Have patience, I beseech.

LUCIANA

Have some patience, please.

ADRIANA

I cannot, nor I will not hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
He is deformèd, crooked, old, and sere,
20Ill-faced, worse-bodied, shapeless everywhere,
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind,
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

ADRIANA

I cannot and I will not keep quiet. My voice will have its way, even if my heart can’t. He is misshapen, crooked, old, and withered. His face is ugly, and his body is even worse—all shapeless, everywhere. He is vicious, mean, foolish, blunt, unkind. His body is deformed, and his mind is worse.

LUCIANA

Who would be jealous, then, of such a one?
No evil lost is wailed when it is gone.

LUCIANA

Then why be jealous of a person like that? When an evil thing has been lost, no one cries.

ADRIANA

25Ah, but I think him better than I say,
And yet would herein others' eyes were worse.
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away.
My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

ADRIANA

Oh, but I think of him more highly than I say I do—and I wish he looked worse in other women’s eyes. I’m like a lapwing, creating a diversion in order to distract predators from my nest. My heart adores him, even though my tongue curses him.
Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, running
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE enters, running.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Here, go—the desk, the purse! Sweet, now make haste.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Here! Go! The desk! Money! Come on, now! Hurry!

LUCIANA

30How hast thou lost thy breath?

LUCIANA

How did you lose your breath?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

   By running fast.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

By running fast.

ADRIANA

Where is thy master, Dromio? Is he well?

ADRIANA

Where’s your master, Dromio? Is he all right?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel;
35A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder clapper, one that countermands

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

No, he’s in a place worse than hell. A devil in a tough uniform has him—a man whose heart is as hard as steel. A fiend and a goblin, pitiless and rough. A wolf—no, even worse—a man all in tough leather. A backbiting friend, one who grabs people, who patrols the streets and passageways. A hunting dog that runs in

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