Ant.

Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.

HE gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful flave

TH

Is wander'd forth in care to feek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, fince at first
I fent him from the mart.

See, here he comes.

Enter Dromio of Syracufe.

How now, Sir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, fo jeft with me again.
You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress fent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phanix? waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didst answer me?

S. Dro. What anfwer, Sir? when spake I fuch a word?

Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour fince, S. Dro. I did not fee you fince you fent me hence Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt; And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt'ft I was difpleas'd. S. Dro. I'm glad to fee you in this merry vein : What means this jeft, I pray you, master, tell me? Ant. Yea, doit thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'ft thou, I jest? hold, take thou that, and that. [Beats Dro. S. Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jeft

is earnest;

Upon what bargain do you give it me?
Ant. Because that I familiarly fometimes

Do ufe you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fawcinefs will jeft upon my love,

And make a common of my ferious hours.
When the fun fhines, let foolish gnats make sport ;
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams :
If you will jeft with me, know my afpect,
And fashion your demeanor to my looks;
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? fo you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head; an you use thefe blows long, I must get a fconce for my head, and infconce it too, or elfe I fhall feek my wit in my fhoulders but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ? Ant. Doft 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 fay, every why hath a wherefore.

Ant. Why, firft, for flouting me; and then wherefore, for urging it the second time to me.

S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of feafon,

When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime nor reafon?

Well, Sir, I thank you.

Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, for this fomething that you gave me for nothing.

Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for fomething. But fay, 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. Bafting.

Ant. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry.

S. Dro. If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it.
Ant. Your reafon?

S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchase me another dry-bafting.

Ant.

Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jeft in good time; there's a time for all things.

S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were fo 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 loft hair of another man.

2

Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of hair, being, as it is, fo plentiful an excrement?

S. Dro. Because it is a bleffing that he bestows on beasts; and what he hath fcanted 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 thofe, but he hath the wit to lofe his hair. 3

Ant. Why, thou didft conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft; yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity.

2 In former Editions:

Ant. Why is Time fuch a Niggard of Hair, being, as it is, Jo plentiful an Excrement?

S. Dro. Becaule it is a Bleffing that be beft:ws on Beafts, and wht be bath fianted them in hair, he hath given them in Wit.] Surely, this is Mock-reafoning, and a Contradiction in Sene. Can Hair be fuppos'd a Bleffing, which Time beflows on Beafts peculiarly; and yet that he hath Jeanted them of it too? Men and

I

Ant. For what reason?

S. Dro. For two, and found ones too.
Ant. Nay, not found, I pray you.
S. Dro. Sure ones then.

Ant. Nay, not fure in a thing falfing.
S. Dro. Certain ones then.

Ant. Name them.

S. Dro. The one to fave 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 loft by nature.

Ant. But your reafon was not fubftantial, 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 conclufion: but, foft! who wafts us yonder?

SCENE V.

Enter Adriana, and Luciana.

Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholis, look ftrange and frown, Some other miltrefs hath thy fweet afpects:

I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.

The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, wouldft vow, That never words were mufick to thine ear,

That never object pleasing in thine eye,

That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-favour'd in thy taste,

Unless I fpake, or lcok'd, or touch'd, or carv'd.

How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it, That thou art thus eftranged from thyself?

Thyfelf I call it, being ftrange to me:

That, undividable, incorporate,

Am better than thy dear felf's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me:
For know, my Love, as eafy 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 thyfelf, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Shouldft thou but hear, I were licentious?
And that this body, confecrate to thee,
By ruffian luft should be contaminate?
Wouldst thou not fpit at me, and fpurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the ftain'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'ft; and therefore, fee, thou do it.
I am poffefs'd with an adulterate blot;
My blood is mingled with the crime of luft: +
For if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digeft the poifon of thy flesh,

Being ftrumpeted by thy contagion.

Keep then fair league, and truce with thy true bed; I live dif-ftain'd, thou undishonoured. 5

Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: In Ephefus I am but two hours old,

As ftrange unto your town as to your talk.

4 I am poffefs'd with an adulterate blot; My blood is mingled with the CRIME of luft] Both the integrity of the metaphor, and the word blot, in the preceding line, fhew that we fhould read,

with the GRIME of luft: i. e. the fin, fmut. So again in this play,-A man may go over fes in the GRIME of it.

WARBURTON.

s I live diftain'd, theu undif

konoured.] To diftane (from the French Word, deɲaindre) fignifies, to flain, difi e, poilute. But the Context requires a Senfe quite oppofite. We muft either read, unflain'd; or, by adding an Hphen, and giving the Prepofition a privative Force, read dij-fiain'd; and then it will mean, ungain'd, undefiled. THEOBALD.

Who,