A sunny

From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it:
Are my discourses dull ? barren my wit ?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd,
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:4 My decayed fairs

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-arming jealousy!—fye, beat it hence. Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dis

pense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere ; 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 see, the jewel, best enamelled, Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides still, That others touch, yet often touching will Wear gold: and so no man, that hath a name, But falshood and corruption doth it shame. Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!

[Exeunt.

4 Alteration of features.

6 Stalking-horse.

5 Fair, for fairness.

7 Hinders.

SCENE II.

The same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. Ant. S. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up Safe at the Centaur ; and the heedful slave Is wander'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.

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? Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a

word ? Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour

since.
Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence,
Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's re-

ceipt;
And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner ;
For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas'd.
Dro. S. I am glad to see you

in this
merry

vein :

What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.
Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the

teeth?
Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and
that.

[Beating him. Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest

is earnest:
Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes
Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your sauciness will jest upon my love,
And make a common of my serious hours.8
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 aspéct,
And fashion your demeanour to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

Dro. S. 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. S. Dost thou not know?
Dro. S. Nothing, sir; but that I am beaten.
Ant. S. Shall I tell you why?

Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say,
every why hath a wherefore.
Ant. S. Why, first,-for flouting me; and then,

wherefore, For urging it the second time to me.

4

4

8 i.e. Intrude on them when you please. 9 Study my countenance. " A sconce was a fortification.

Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten out

of season ? When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither

rhyme nor reason? Well, sir, I thank you.

Ant. S. Thank me, sir? for what?

Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something that you, gave me for nothing.

Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?

Dro. S. No, sir; I think, the meat wants that I have.
Ant. S. In good time, sir, what's that?
Dro. S. Basting.
Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.
Dro. S. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it.
Ant. S. Your reason?

Dro. S. Lest it make you cholerick, and purchase me another dry basting.

Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time; There's a time for all things.

Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were so cholerick.

Ant. S. By what rule, sir?

Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald

pate of father Time himself. Ant, S. Let's hear it.

Dro, S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature.

Ant. S. May be not do it by fine and recovery?

Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man.

Ant. S. Why is time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?

Dro. S. 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. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.

Dro. S. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

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

Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: Yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity.

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

Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge.

Ant. S. You would all this time have proved, there is no time for all things.

Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature.

Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover.

Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the word's end, will have bald followers.

Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion: But soft! who wafts? us yonder?

2 Beckons,