To your notorious shame; I doubt it not.
[Enter] Dromio of Syracuse, from the bay.
85 Dro. S. Master, [there is] a bark of Epidamnum
That stays but till her owner comes aboard,
[And then, sir, she] bears away. Our fraughtage, sir,
I have convey’d aboard; and I have [bought]
The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitæ.
90 The ship is in her trim; the merry wind
Blows fair from land: they stay for nought at all
But for their owner, master, and yourself.