Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and foul, Adr. This fervitude makes you to keep unwed. But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. Adr. Say, is your tardy mafter now at hand? E. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness. Adr. Say, did't thou speak with him? know'ft thou his mind? E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear, Befhrew his hand, I fcare could under-ftand it. Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou could't not feel his his meaning? E. Dro. Nay, he ftruck fo plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could fcarce underftand them. Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. E. Dro. Why, miftrefs, fure, my mafter is horn mad. When I defir'd him to come home to dinner, E. Dro. Quoth my mafter: I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress; I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders: Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's fake, fend fome other meffenger. Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate acrofs. E. Dro. And he will blefs that cross with other beating: Between you I fhall have a holy head. Adr. Hence, prating-peasant, fetch thy master home, E. Dro. Am I fo round with you as you with me, That like a foot-ball you do fpurn me thus? You fpurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I laft in this fervice, you must cafe me in leather. [Exit. Luc. Fy, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company muft do his minions grace, Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look: Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then, he hath wasted it. Are my difcourfes dull? barren my wit? If voluble and sharp difcourfe be marr'd, Unkindnefs blunts it, more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait? That's not my fault: he's mafter of my ftate, What ruins are in me, that can be found By him not ruin'd? then, is he the ground Of my defeatures. My decayed fair A funny look of his would foon repair. But, But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, Ant. SCENE changes to the Street. Enter Antipholis of Syracufe. [Exeunt HE gold I gave to Dromio is laid up Is wander'd forth in care to feek me out. By computation, and mine host's report, (5) I fee the jewel beft enameled Will lofe bis beauty; yet the gold bides fill By falfhood and corruption doth it fame.] In this miferably mangled condition is this paffage exhibited in the firft folio. All editions fince have left out the laft couplet of it; I prefume, as too hard for them. Mr. Pope, who pretends to have collated the firft folio, fhould have fpar'd us the lines, at least, in their corruption.I communicated my doubts upon this paffage to my friend Mr. Warburton; and to his fagacity I owe, in good part, the correction of it. The fenfe of the whole is now very pertinent; which, without the two lines from the firft folio, was very imperfect; not to fay, ridiculous. The comparison is fully clofed. "Gold, indeed, bides handling well; but, for all that, often touching will wear even gold: So, no man of a great character, even as pure as gold, but may in "time lofe it by falfhood and corruption. 1 could not speak with Dromio, fince at firft How now, Sir? is your merry humour alter'd ♪ S. Dro. What answer, Sir? when spake I such a word. Ant. Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'ft thou, I jeft? hold, take thou that, and that. Beats Dromio. S.Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jeft is earneft; Upon what bargain do you give it me? Ant. Becaufe that I familiarly fometimes S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? fo you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head; an you use these blows long, I must get a fconce for my head, and infconce it too, or elfe I fhall feek my wit in my shoutders but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ? Ant. Doft thou not know? S. Dro. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten. Ant. Ant. Shall I tell you why? S. Dra. 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 fecond time to me. S.Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of feason, When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime nor Well, Sir, I thank [reafon 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. S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchafe me another dry-bafting. 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. (6) Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? S. Dro. (6) Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of bair, being, as it is, fo plentiful an excrement? S. Dro. Because it is a bleffing that be beftows on beafts, and what be bab fcanted them in hair, he bath given them in wit] Surely, this 1 4 is |