So he would keep fair quarter with his bed.
* I fee, the jewel, best enameled,

Will lofe his beauty; and the gold bides ftill,
That others touch; yet often touching will
Wear gold: and fo no man, that hath a name,
But falfhood, 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 ferve mad jealousy!

Ant.

SCENE IV.

Changes to the Street.

Enter Antipholis of Syracuse.

[Exeunt.

HE gold I gave to Dromio is laid up

THE

Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful flave

Is wander'd forth in care to seek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
I could not fpeak with Dromio, fince at firft
I fent 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, fo jeft with me again.

I fee, the jewel, beft enameled,

Will lofe his beauty; yet the gold bides ftill,
That others touch, and often touching will:
Where gold and no man, that hath a name,

By falfhood and corruption doth it fhame.] In this miferable Condition is this Paffage given us. It should be read thus,

I fee, the jewel, beft enameled,

Will lofe his beauty; and the gold bides ftill,

That others touch; yet often touching will

Wear gold and fo no man, that hath a name,

But falfhood, and corruption, doth it fhame.

The Senfe is this, Gold, indeed, will long bear the handling; how. ever, often touching, will wear even Gold; juft fo the greateit Character, tho' as pure as Gold itfelf, may, in Time, be injured, by the repeated Attacks of Falfhood and Corruption.

My

You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress fent to have me home to dinner?

S. Dro. What anfwer, Sir? when spake I such a word?

My houfe was at the Phanix? waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didst answer me?

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'st 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, master, tell me?

Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'ft thou, I jeft? hold, take thou that, and that. [Beats Dro. S. Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jeft is

earneft;

Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Ant. Because that I familiarly fometimes
Do ufe you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fauciness 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 demeanour 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 thefe blows long, I must get a fconce for my head, and infconce it too, or else I fhall feek my wit in fhoulders: but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten? Ant. Doft thou not know?

my

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

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

Ant.

Ant. Why, first, for flouting me; and then wher fore, for urging it the fecond time to me.

S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,

When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime nor reafon ?

Well, Sir, I thank 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 reason?

S. Dro. Left it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry-basting.

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 choleric.

Ant. By what rule, Sir?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the plain pate of father Time himfelf.

bald

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 blessing that he beftows on'' beafts; and what he hath fcanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.

Ant.

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 didft conclude hairy men plain. dealers without wit.

1

S. Dro. The plain dealer, the fooner loft; yet he lofeth it in a kind of jollity.

Ant. For what reafon?

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 tyring; 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, Sir; 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 himfelf 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?

SCENE V.

Enter Adriana, and Luciana.

Adri. AY, ay, Antipholis, look ftrange and frown, Some other mistress hath thy fwect alpects

I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.

The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, wouldst vow,
That never words were mufic to thine ear,

That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,

That

That never meat fweet-favour'd in thy tafte,
Unless I fpake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd.
How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it,
That thou art thus eftranged from thyfelf?
Thyself I call it, being strange to me:
That, undividable, incorporate,

Am better than thy dear felf's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself 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,
Should't thou but hear, I was licentious?
And that this body, confecrate to thee,
By ruffian luft should be contaminate?
Would't thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the ftain'd fkin of my harlot-brow,
And from my falfe hand cut the wedding-ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?

I know thou canft; and therefore, fee, thou do it.
I am poffefs'd with an adulterate blot;
My blood is mingled with the Grime of luft:
For if we two be one, and thou play false,

1 do digeft the poifon of thy fleth,

Being frumpeted by thy contagion.

Keep then fair league, and truce with thy true bed; I live diftain'd, thou undishonoured.

Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not:

In Ephesus I am but two hours old,

As ftrange unto your town as to your talk.
Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,
Wants wit in all one word to understand.

Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd with

you

When