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Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and foul,
Of more preheminence than fifth and fowl,
Are mafters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.

Adr. This fervitude makes you to keep unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear fome sway.
Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practice to obey.
Adr. How if your husband start fome other where?
Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear.
Adr. Patience unmov'd, no marvel tho' fhe pause;
They can be meek, that have no other caufe:
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;

But were we burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain;
So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would'st relieve me :
But if thou live to fee like right bereft,

This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.
Luc. Well, I will marry one day but to try;
Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh.
Enter Dromio of Ephefas.

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.
Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?
[mad:
E. Dro. I mean not, cuckold-mad; but, fure, he's ftark

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When I defir'd him to come home to dinner,
He afk'd me for a thousand marks in gold:
'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he:
Your meat doth burn, quoth I; my gold, quoth he:
Will you come home, quoth I? my gold, quoth he:
Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?
The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; my gold, quoth he.
My mistress, Sir, quoth I; hang up thy miftrefs;
I know not thy miftrefs; out on thy mistress!
Luc. Quoth who?

E. Dro. Quoth my mafter:

I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress;
So that my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders:
For, in conclufion, he did beat me there.

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,
And feeds from home; poor I am but his ftale.
Luc. Self-harming jealoufy?--fy, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs difpence:
I know, his eye doth homage other-where;
Or else what lets it, but he would be here ?
Sifter, 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 fee, the jewel, beft enameled, (5)
Will lofe his beauty; and the gold bides ftill,
K
That others touch: yet often touching will the triers touch,
Wear gold and fo no man, that hath a name,
But falfhood, and corruption, doth it fhame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll what's left away, and weeping die.
weep
Luc. How many fond fools ferve mad jealousy!

Ant.

SCENE changes to the Street.

Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.

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[Exeunt

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

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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
That others touch, and often touching will:
Where gold and no man that bath a name,

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
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 ftroaks, 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 Phoenix? waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didft answer me?

S. Dro. What answer, Sir? when spake I such 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'ft 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, mafter, tell me?

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
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 fconce.

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.
Ant. Your reafon ?

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

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