Luc. Have patience, I beseech. Adr. I cannot, nor I will not, hold me ftill; Luc. Who would be jealous then of fuch a one? Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I fay, And yet, would herein others' eyes were worse: Far from her neft the lapwing cries away: My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter Dromio of Syracufe. S. Dro. Here, go; the desk, the purse; fweet now, make hafte. Luc. How! haft thou loft thy breath? S. Dro. By running fast. Adr. Where is thy mafter, Dromio? is he well? S. Dro. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell: A devil in * an everlasting garment hath him, One, whofe hard heart is button'd up with steel; A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough; A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff; fere,]-withered, dry. Stigmatical]-his natural bad figure a fit emblem of his more depraved mind. "Far from her neft the lapwing cries away :]-to deceive those that feek her young. Tongue far from heart.” MEASURE FOR MEASURE, A& I, S. 5. Lucio. * an everlasting garment]-made of very durable ftuff; bailiffs were then clad in buff, as appears in the following lines. y a fairy, fairies were of various kinds, fome benign and gentle; others cruel and mischievous-fury. A back A back-friend, a fhoulder-clapper, one that counter. mands The paffages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well; One that, before the judgment, carries poor fouls to hell. Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? S. Dro. I do not know the matter; he is 'refted on the cafe. Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whofe fuit. S. Dro. I know not at whofe fuit he is arrested, well; But he's in a fuit of buff, which 'refted him, that I can tell: Will you fend him, miftrefs, redemption, the money in his defk? Adr. Go fetch it, fifter.-This I wonder at, [Exit Luciana. That he, unknown to me, fhould be in debt! с d S. Dro. Not on a band, but on a ftronger thing; A chain, a chain; do you not hear it ring? Adr. What! the chain? S. Dro. No, no; the bell: 'tis time, that I were gone. It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. Adr. The hours come back! that I did never hear. S. Dro. O yes, If any hour meet a ferjeant, a'turns back for very fear. Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly doft thou reafon ! z countermands]-blocks up, occupies, and feizes on such as skulk there. * runs counter, draws dry foot]-pursues his game till he lodges it in the counter, upon a flight fcent, or by the track of the foot: counter is here used ambiguously, for a prison, and the wrong way in the chace. bhell.]-a cant word for a dungeon. с on the cafe.]—on a general action for the redress of an indefinite injury committed without force. a band?] a bond formerly fo fpelt. e a band,]-hempen, a halter. S. Dro. S. Dro. Time is very bankrout, and owes more than he's worth, to season. Nay, he's a thief too: Have you not heard men say, If time be in debt, and theft, and a ferjeant in the way, Enter Luciana. Adr. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it strait; Come, fifter: I am prefs'd down with conceit; [Exeunt. S. Ant. There's not a man I meet, but doth falute me As if I were their well-acquainted friend ; And every one doth call me by my name. Some tender money to me, fome invite me ; Even now a taylor call'd me in his shop, And Lapland forcerers inhabit here. Enter Dromio of Syracufe. S. Dro. Master, here's the gold you fent me for: What! have you got the picture of old Adam new apparell❜d ? 1 bankrout,]-bankrupt. have you got the picture of old Adam new apparell'd?]-are you ftill in the hands of Adam, in his coat of skins, i, e. the bailiff in a buff jerkin?-got rid of. S. Ant. S. Ant. What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean? S. Dro. Not that Adam, that kept the paradife, but that Adam, that keeps the prifon: he that goes in the calves-skin that was kill'd for the prodigal; he that came behind you, fir, like an evil angel, and bid you forfake your liberty. S. Ant. I understand thee not. S. Dro. No? why, it is a plain cafe: he that went like a base-viol, in a case of leather; the man, fir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a "fob, and 'refts them; he, fir, that takes pity on decay'd men, and gives 'em fuits of durance; he that * fets up his reft to do more exploits with his mace, than a morris pike. k S. Ant. What! thou mean'ft an officer? S. Dro. Ay, fir, the ferjeant of the band: he, that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his band; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and faith, God give you good reft! S. Ant. Well, fir, there rest in your foolery. Is there Any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? S. Dro. Why, fir, I brought you word an hour fince, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the ferjeant, to tarry for the hoy, Delay: Here are the " angels that you fent for, to deliver you. S. Ant. The fellow is diftract, and fo am I; And here we wander in illufions: Some blessed power deliver us from hence! ha fob,]-a tap. i fuits of durance;]-a ftone doublet, imprisons them. Jets up bis reft]-couches his weapon, puts himself in a posture of attack. a morris pike.]-moorish pike-the Moors fhewed great dexterity with this weapon, both in the battle, and the morifco, or morris dance. angels]-pieces of money. Enter Enter a Courtezan. Cour. Well met, well met, mafter Antipholis. S. Ant. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not! S. Dro. Master, is this mistress Satan? S. Ant. It is the devil. S. Dro. Nay, fhe is worse, fhe's the devil's dam; and here fhe comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes, that the wenches fay, God dam me, that's as much as to fay, God make me a light wench. It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn; Come not near her. Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, fir. Will you go with me? we'll mend our dinner here. S. Dro. Mafter, if you do, expect spoon-meat, and befpeak a long spoon. S. Ant. Why, Dromio? S. Dro. Marry, he must have a long spoon, that must eat with the devil. S. Ant. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of sup ping? Thou art, as you are all, a forceress: I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone. Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd; And I'll be gone, fir, and not trouble you. S. Dro. Some devils Ask but the paring of one's nail, a rush, na long spoon.] "I have no long spoon." TEMPEST, A& II, S. 2. Ste. A cherry |