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Dark-working forcerers, that change the mind;
Soul-killing witches, that deform the body;
Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many such like liberties of fin :
If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this Nave;
greatly fear, my mony is not safe.

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j attentively consider these three Lines, must confess, that the

Poet intended the Epithet given to each of these Miscreants,

should declare the Power by which they perform their Feats, i and which would therefore be a just Characteristick of each

of them. Thus, by nimble Jugglers, we are taught that they
perform their Tricks by Slight of Hand: and by Soul-killing
Witches, we are inform’d, the Mischief they do is by the Al-
listance of the Devil, to whom they have given their Souls :
But then, by dark-working Sorcerers, we are not instructed in
the Means by which they perform their Ends. Besides, this
Epithet agrees as well wo Witches, as to them; and therefore,
certainly our Author could not design This in their Characte-
ristick. I am confident, we should read ;

Drug-working Sorcerers, that change the Mind;
And we know by the whole History of ancient and modern
Superftition, that these kind of Jugglers always pretended to
work Changes of the Mind by these Applications.

Mr. Warburtos.

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SCENE, the House of Antipholis of

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

EITHER my husband nor the slave return'd,
That in such hafte I sent to seek his master!

Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.
Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him,
And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner :
Good filter, let us dine, and never fret.
A man is master of his liberty :
Time is their master, and when they fee time,
They'l or come; if so, be patient, fifter.

Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more ?
Luc. Because their business ftill lyes out a door.
Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
Luc. On, know, he is the bridle of your will.
Adr. There's none, but asses, will be bridled so.

Luc. Why, head-strong liberty is lalht with wo.
There's nothing fituate under heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in sea, in sky:
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subjects, and at their controls :
Man, more divine, the mafter of all these,
Lord of the wide world, and wide wat'ry seas,
Indu'd with intellectual sense and soul,
Of more preheminence than fish and fowl,
Are matters to their females, and their lords :
Then let your will attend on their accords.

Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.


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Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear fome

Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey.
Adr. How if your husband Itart some other where ?
Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear.
Adr. Patience unmov’d, no marvel tho' the pause;
They can be meek, that have no other cause :
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;
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 would it relieve me :
But if thou live to see like right bereft,
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?

E. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.

Adr. Say, did'At thou speak with him ? know'it thou his mind?

E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear, Belhrew his hand, I scarce could under-stand it.

Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou could'st not feel his meaning?

E. Dro. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them.

Adr. But say, I pr’ythee, is he coming home?
It seems, he hath great care to please his wife.

E. Dro. Why, mistress, sure, my master is horn-mad.
Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain ?
E. Dro. I mean not, cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's

ftark mad :
When I defir'd him to come home to dinner,
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


thee, villain?
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?

E. Dro. Quoth my master : 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 conclufion, 'he did beat me there. Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him

home. E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's fake, send some other messenger.

Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate across.
E. Dro. And he will bless that cross with other

beating :
Between you I shall have a holy head.

Adr. Hence, prating peasant, fetch thy master home.

E. Dro. Am I so round with you as you with me,
That like a foot-ball you do spurn me thus ?
You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither :
If I lait in this fervice, you must case me in leather.

[Exit. Luc. Pie, how impatience lowreth in your face!

Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look:
Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek? then, he hath wafted it.
Are my discourses dull ? barren my wit?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marrd,
Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard,
Do their gay vestments his affections bait ?
That's not my fault: he’s master of my state.
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd ? then, is he the ground
Of my defeatures. My decayed fair
A funny look of his would soon repair,


But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home ; poor I am but his stale.

Luc. Self-harming jealousie !-fie, beat it hence.

Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense:
I know, his eye doth homage other-where;
Or else what lets it, but he would be here?
Sister, you

know he promis'd me a chain ;
Would that, alone, alone, he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed.
I fee, the jewel, best enameled, (3)
Will lose his beauty; and the gold bides still,
That others touch; yet often touching will
Wear gold : and so no man, that hath a name,
But fallhood, and corruption, doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,

weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousie!



(3) I see the Jewel best enameled

Will lose bis beauty ; yet the gold bide's still
That others touch, and often touching will:
Where gold and ng Man tbat bath a Name,

By Falsbood and Corruption dotb it Shame.] In this mire. rable mangled Condition is this Passage exhibited in the first Folio. All the Editions fince have left out the last Couplet of it ; I presume, as too hard for them. Mr. Pope, who pretends to have collated the first Folio, Mould have spar'd us the Lines, at least, in their Corruption.

- I communicated my Doubts upon this Passage to my Friend Mr. Warburton, and to his Sagacity I owe, in good part, the Correction of it.

The Sense of the whole is now very pertinent; which, without the two Lines from the first Folio was very imperfect; not to say, ridiculous. The Comparison is fully closed. “ indeed, bides handling well ; but, for all that, often “. Touching will wear even Gold : So, no Man of a great “ Character, even as pure as Gold, but may in Time lose it or by Fallhood and Corruption.

- Gold,


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