Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools ferve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Street.

Enter ANTIPHOLIS of Syracufe.

Ant. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful flave Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out. By computation, and mine host'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, fir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, so 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? Wast thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didst answer me?

S. Dro. What answer, fir? 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 displeas'd.

S. Dro. I am glad to see you in this merry vein: What means this jeft? I pray you, master, tell me, Ant. Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?

Think't thou, I jeft? Hold, take thou that, and

that.

[Beats DROMIO; S. Dro. Hold, fir, for God's fake: now your jeft

is earnest:

Upon what bargain do you give it me?
Ant. Becaufe that I familiarly fometimes
Do ufe you for my fool, and with you,
Your faucinefs will jeft upon my love,
And make a common of my ferious hours.
When the fun fhines, let foolifh gnats make fport,
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams.
If you will jeft with me, know my aspect,
And fashion your demeanor to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

S. Dr. Sconce, call you it? fo you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use thefe blows long, I muft get a fconce for my head, and infconce it too, or elfe I fhall feek my wit in my fhoulders. But, I pray, fir, why am I beaten? Ant. Doft thou not know?

S. Dro. Nothing, fir; but that I am beaten.
Ant. Shall I tell you why?

S. Dro. Ay, fir, and wherefore; for, they fay, every why hath a wherefore.

Ant. Why, first, for flouting me; and then, whereFor urging it the fecond time to me. [fore,S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out

of feafon?

When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither Well, fir, I thank you. [rhime nor reafon ?-

Ant. Thank me, fir? for what?

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

Ant.

Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for fomething. But fay, fir, is it dinner-time? S. Dro. No, fir; I think the meat wants that I Ant. In good time, fir, what's that?

S. Dro. Bafting.

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

[have.

S. Dro. If it be, fir, pray you eat none of it. Ant. Your reason?

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

Ant. Well, fir, 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, fir?

S. Dro. Marry, fir, 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.

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 beafts 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 those, but he hath the wit to lofe his hair.

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

S. Dro.

S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft: Yet he lofeth it in a kind of jollity.

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 money that he spends in tiring; 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, fir; namely, no time to recover hair loft by nature.

Ant. But your reason was not substantial, 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?

Enter ADRIANA, and LUCIANA.

Adr. Ay,ay, Antipholis, look ftrange, and frown;
Some other mistress 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 look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to

thee.

How

How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it,
That thou art then 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 thyfelf 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 thould be contaminate?
Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the ftain'd fkin off my harlot-brow,
And from my falfe 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 fleth

Being trumpeted with thy contagion.

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

Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you

In Ephefus I am but two hours old,

[not: As ftrange unto your town, as to your talk; Who, every word by all my wit being feann'd, Want wit in all one word to understand.

Luc.