E. Ant. Are you there, wife? you might have come before. Adr. Your wife, Sir knave! go, get you from the door. E. Dro. If you went in pain, master, this knave would go fore. Ang. Here is neither cheer, Sir, nor welcome; we would fain have either. Bal. In debating which was beft, we shall part with neither. E. Dro. They ftand at the door, master ; bid them welcome hither. E. Art. There's fomething in the wind, that we cannot get in. E. Dro You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warm within: you stand here in the cold : It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought and fold. E. Ant. Go fetch me fomething, I'll break ope the gate. S. Dro. Break any thing here, and I'll break your knave's pate. E. Dro. A man may break a word with you, Sir, and words are but wind; Ay, and break it in your face, fo he break it not be } ind. S. Dro. It feems thou wantest breaking; out upon thee, hind! E. Dro. Here's too much, out upon thee! I pray thee, le me in. S. Dro Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fish have no fin. E. Ant. Well, I'll break in, go borrow me a crow. E. Dra. A crow without feather, mafter, mean you fo? For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a fea ther: If a crow help us in, firrah, we'll pluck a crow toge ther. E. Ant. E. Ant. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron crow. Once, this; your long experience of her wifdom, Plead on her part fome cause to you unknown; For ever hous'd, where it once gets poffeffion, E. Ant. You have prevail'd; I will depart in quiet, Pretty and witty, wild, and, yet too, gentle; (9) And, in Despight of Mirth,] In despight of what Mirth We don't find, that it was any Joke, or matter of Mirth, to be fhut out of Doors by his Wife. I make no Doubt therefore, but I have reflor'd the true Reading. Antipbolis's Paffion is plain enough all thro' this Scene: and, in the next Act, we find him confeffing how angry He was at this Juncture.And did not I in Rage depart from thence? The Circumstances, I think, sufficiently justify my Emendation. And And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made s For there's the houfe: that chain will I bestow, Upon mine hostess there. Good Sir, make hafte : hence. E. Ant. Do fo; this jeft fhall coft me fome expence. [Exeunt. SCENE, the House of Antipholis of Ephefus, Enter Luciana, with Antipholis of Syracufe. Luc. AND may it be, that you have quite forgot (10) A husband's office? fhall, Antipholis, hate, If you did wed my filter for her wealth, Then for her wealth's fake use her with more kindness; Or if you like efwhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your falfe love with fome fhew of blindness ; (10) And may it be, that you have quite forgot An Husband's Office? Sball, Antipholis, Ev'n in the Spring of Love, thy love-Springs rot? and fhall thy Love The next CorThis Scene for Shall love in buildings grow fo ruinate] This Paffage has hitherto labour'd under a double Corruption. What Conceit could our Editors have of Love in Buildings, growing ruinate? Our Poet meant no more than this: Shall thy Lovefprings rot, even in the Spring of Love grow ruinous, ev'n while it is but building up? ruption is by an accident at Prefs, as I take it; Fifty two Lines fucceffively is ftrictly in alternate Rhymes: and this Measure is never broken, but in the Second, and Fourth, Lines of thefe two Couplets. 'Tis certain, I think, a Monofyllable dropt from the Tail of the Second Verfe: and I have ventur'd to fupply it by, I hope, a' probable Conjecture. Let Let not my fiifter read it in your eye; Comfort my fifter, chear her, call her wife; 'Tis holy fport to be a little vain, When the sweet breath of flattery conquers ftrife. S. Ant. Sweet mistress, (what your name is elfe, I know not; Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine:) Lefs in your knowledge and your grace you fhow not Smother'd in errors, feeble, fhallow, weak, The foulded meaning of your words' deceit ; (11) Alas, poor Women! make us not believe, &c.] From the whole Tenour of the Context it is evident, that this Negative (not,) got Place in the firft Copies inftead of but. And these two Monofyllables have by Miftake reciprocally difpoffefs'd one another in many other Paffages of our Author's Works. Nothing can be more plain than the Poet's Senfe in this Paffage. Women, fays be, are fo eafy of Faith, that only make them believe you love them, and they'll take the bare Profeffion, for the Substance and Reality. Againft Against my foul's pure truth why labour you, Your weeping fifter is no wife of mine; Far more, far more, to you do I decline. Spread o'er the filver waves thy golden hairs, S. Ant. As good to wink, fweet love, as look on night. Luc. Why call you me, love? call my fifter so. Luc. That's my sister. S. Ant. No; It is thyself, mine own felf's better part: Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart, S. Ant. Call thyself fifter, fweet; for I mean thee: Give me thy hand. Luc. Oh, foft, Sir, hold you ftill; I'll fetch my fifter, to get her good will. [Exit Luciana. Enter |