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Enter Antipholis of Syracuse.
HE gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur ; and the hcedful llave
Enter Dromio of Syracuse.
sent me hence Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. Villain, thou didst deny
the gold's receipt ; And told'ft me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas’d.
S. Dro. I'm glad to see you in this merry vein : What means this jest, I pray you, master, tell me ?
Ant. Yea, doit thou jeer and fout me in the teeth ? Think'st thou, ljeit? hold, take thou that, and that.
[Beats Dro. S. Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's sake, now your jest
Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head ; an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and insconce it too, or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders : but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ?
Ant. Dost thou not know?
S. Dro. Ay, Sir, and wherefore ; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.
Ant. Why, first, for fouting me; and then wherefore, for urging it the second time to me. S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of
season, When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime
nor reason ? Well, Sir, I thank you.
Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.
Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you no. thing for something. But say, Sir, is it dinner-time ?
S. Dro. No, Sir, I think, the meat wants that I have,
S. Dro. Lest it make you cholerick, and purchase me another dry-basting.
Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jest in good time; there's a time for all things.
S. Dro. I durst have deny'd that, before you were so cholerick.
Ant. By what rule, Sir?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of father Time himself.
Ant. Let's hear it.
S. Dro. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature.
Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery ?
S. Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man.
· Ant. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement ?
S. Dro. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.
Ant. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.
S Dro. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to , lose his hair. 3
Ant. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.
S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost ; yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity.
2 In former Editions:
Them, I observe, are very freAnt. Why is Time such a quently mistaken vice veifa for Nigzard of Hair, being, as it is, each other, in the old Impressions so plentiful an Excrement? of our Authcr.
THEOBALD. 'S. Dro. Because it is a Blessing 3 Not a man of these, but he that be bujt:ws
on Beasts, and hath the wit to lose his hair.] wbt be bashfianted them in hair, That is, those who have mere he hath given them in Wir.) Sure hair than wit, are easily entraply, this is Mock-reafining, and ped by loose women, and fuffer a Contradiction in Sene. Can the consequences of lewdneis, Hair be fuppos d a Blessing, one of which, in the firft appearwhich Time bellows on Beasts ance of the disease in Europi, was peculiarly ; and yet that he hath the loss of hair. Jcanted them of it too? Men and
Ant. For what reason ?
S. Dro. The one to save the mony that he spends in tyring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge.
Ant. You would all this time have prov'd, there is no time for all things.
S. Dro. Marry, and did, Sir ; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature.
Ant. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover.
S. Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers.
Ant. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion: but, soft! who wafts us yonder ?
Enter Adriana, and Luciana. Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholis, look strange and frown, Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects : I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou, unurg’d, wouldst vow, That never words were musick to thine ear, That never object pleasing in thine eye, That never touch well welcome to thy hand, 7 hat never meat sweet-favour'd in thy taste, Unless I spake, or look’d, or touch'd, or carv’d. How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it, 1 hat thou art thus estranged from thyself? Thyself I call it, being strange to me: That, undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not :
4 I am p-Dif'd with an adul s I lieve distain'd, thou undilterate blot;
honoured.) To diftaine (from 7'y blood is mingled with the the French Word, dejiaindre) fig
CRIME of lujt:) Both the nifies, to fain, drfi c, poilute. But integrity of the metaphor, and the Context requires a Sense quite the word blot, in the preceding opposite. We must either read, line, snew that we should read, unflain'd; or, by adding an Hi
- with the GRIME of 1:off: phen, and giving the Preposition i. c. the fit in, fmut. So again a privative Force,read dil-fi ain'd; in this play, - A man may go over
aid then it will mean, uni ain'd, jbses in the GRIME of it. undefiled.