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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
Is wandler'd forth in care to seek me out.
By computation, and mine host's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, since at first
I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes.

since you

Enter Dromio of Syracuse.
How now, Sir ? is your merry humour alter'd ?
As you love strokes, so jest with me again. -*
You know no Centaur ? you receiv'd no gold ?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phænix ? wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?
S. Dro. What answer, Sir ? when spake I such a

word ?
Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour since,
S. Dro. I did not see


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

is earnest;
Upon what bargain do you give it me?
Ant. Because that I familiarly sometimes

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Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fawciness will jest upon my love,
And make a common of my serious hours.
When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport ;
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams :
If you will jest with me, know my aspect,
And fashion your demeanor to my looks ;
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

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. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten.
Ant. Shall I tell you why?

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,
Ant. In good time, Sir; what's that ?
S. Dro. Basting.
Ant. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry.
S. Dro. If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it.
Ant. Your reason ?

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



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Ant. For what reason ?
S. Dro. For two, and sound ones too.
Ant. Nay, not found, I pray you.
S. Dro. Sure ones then.
Ant. Nay, not sure in a thing falsing.
S. Dro. Certain ones then.
Ant. Name them,

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 ?

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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.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me:
For know, my Love, as easy may'st thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulph,
And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,
As take from me thyself, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Shouldst thou but hear, I were licentious ?
And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian luft should be contaminate?
Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the stain'd skin of my harlot-brow,
And from my false hand cut the wedding ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow ?
I know thou can't ; and therefore, fee, thou do it.
I am poffess’d with an adulterate blor;
My blood is mingled with the crime of luft: .
For if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep then fair league, and truce with thy true bed;
I live dif-stain'd, thou undishonoured. s

Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not :
In Ephesus I am but two hours old,
As strange unto your town as to your talk.

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.



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