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ACT II. SCENE, The House of Antipholis of

Ephesus.

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

N

ADRIAN A.
EITHER my husband, nor the flave return'd,
That in such hafte I sent to seek his mafter!

Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.
Luc. Perhaps, fome merchant hath invited him,
And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner :
Good sister, let us dine, and never fret.
A man is master of his liberty :
Time is their master; and when they fee time,
They'll go or come ; if so, be patient, fifter.

Adr. Why, should their liberty than ours be more? Luc. Because their business still lyes out a-door.

Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. Oh, know, he is the bridle. of your will. Adr. There's none, but affes, will be bridled so. Luc. Why, head-strong liberty is lasht with wo. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye, But hath its bound in earth, in sea, in sky : The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their' males' subjects, and at their controuls : Man, more divine, the master of all these, Lord of the wide world, and wide wat’ry seaso. Indu'd with intellectual sense and soul, Of more preheminence than fish and fowl, Are masters to their females, and their lords : Then let your will attend on their accords. Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed: Lus. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.

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Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear some

sway. Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear.

Adr. Patience unmov’d, no marvel tho' the pause ; They can be meek, that have no other cause: A wretched soul, .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 our Telves complain. So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience would't

relieve me: But if thou live to see 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 Ephesus.
Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand ?

E. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.

Adr. Say, did'st thou speak with him ? know't thou his mind?

E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.

Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou could'st not feel his meaning?

E. Dro. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them.

Adr. But say, I pr’ythee, is he coming home?
It seems, he hath great care to please his wife.

E. Dro. Why, mistress, sure, my master is horn-mad.
Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?
E. Dro. I mean not, cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's

ftark mad :
When I desir'd him to come home to dinner,
He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold :
Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he:

Your

mine ear,

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 mistress;
I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress !

Luc. Quoth who?
E. Dro..

Quoth my master: 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 houlders : For, in conclusion, 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, send some other messenger.

Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
E. Dro. And he will bless that cross with other

beating :
Between you I shall have a holy head.

Adr. Hence, prating peasant, fetch thy master home.

E. Dro. Am I so round with you as you with me,
That like a foot-ball you do spurn me thus ?
You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither :
If I last in this service, you must case me in leather.

[Exit. Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company must do his minions

grace,
Whilft I at home starve for a merry look:
Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek ? then, he hath wafted it.
Are my discourses dull ? barren my wit ?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marrid,
Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard.
Do their gay vestments his affections bait?
That's not my fault: he's maiter 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. My decayed fair
A funny look of his would soon repair.

But,

But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, - And feeds from home ; poor I am but his ftale.

Luc. Self-harming jealousie!—fie, beat it hence. Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense : I know, his eye doth homage other-where; 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. E: I see, the jewel, best enameled, (3)

Will lose his beauty; and the gold bides still, That others touch; yet often touching will Wear gold: and so no man, that hath a name, But falihood, 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 jealoufie!

[Exeunt.

}

(3) I see the Jewel beft enameled

Will lose his Beaury; yet the gold bides fill
That others touch, and often touching will:
Where gold and no Man that hath a Name,

By Falfhood and Corruption doth it Shame.] In this miserable mangled Condition is this Passage exhibited in the firft Folio. All the Editions Gince have left out the last couplet of it; I presume, as too hard for them. Mr. Pope, who pretends to have collated the first Folio, thould have spar'd'us the Lines, at least, in their Corruption. I communicated my Doubts upon this Pallage to my Friend Mr. Warburton ; and to his Sagacity I owe, in good part, the Correction of it. The Sense of the whole is now very pertinent ; which, without the two Lines from the first Folio, was very imperfect ; not to say, ridiculous. The Comparison is fully closed. “ Gold, indeed, bides handling well; but, for all that, often

Touching will wear even Gold: So, no Man of a great " Chara&er, even as pure as Gold, but may in Time lose it

by Falhood and Corruption.

SCENE

SCENE changes to the Street.

TH

Enter Antipholis of Syracuse. Ant.

HE 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 hoft'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 stroaks, 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 ? waft thou mad, That thus so madly thou didít 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 see

you
fince
you

fent me hence Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.

Ant. Villain, thou didit deny the gold's receipt ;
And told'It me of a mistress, and a dinner ;
For which, I hope, thou felt'ft 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, dost thou jeer and Aout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest ? 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
Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fawciness will jeft 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 :

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