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'Till that I'll view the manners of the town,
Perufe the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return and fleep within mine inn;
For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
Get thee away.

Dro. Many a man would take you at your word,
And go indeed, having fagood a means.

[Exit Dromio.

Ant. A trufty villian, Sir, that very oft,
When I am dull with care and melancholy,
Lightens my humour with his merry jefts.
What, will you walk with me about the town,
And then go to the inn and dine with me?

Mer. Lam invited, Sir, to certain merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit:
I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,
Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart,
And afterward confort you 'till bed-time:
My prefent bufinefs calls me from you now.

dat. Farewel 'till then; I will go lofe myself, And wander up and down to view the city.

Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. [Exit Mer. Ant. He that commends me to my own content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the ocean feeks another drop, Who falling there to find his fellow forth, Unfeen, inquifitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In queft of them, unhappy, lofe myself.

Enter Dromio of Ephefuse

Here comes the almanack of my true date.
What now? how chance, thou art return'd' fo foon?
E. Dro. Return'd fo foon! rather approach'd too late:
The capon burns, the pig falls from the fpit,
The clock has ftrucken twelve upon the bell;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek;
She is fo hot, because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold, because you come not home;

You

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You come not home, because you have no stomach;
You have no ftomach, having broke your faft:
But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray,
Are penitent for your default to-day.

Ant. Stop in your wind, Sir; tell me this, I pray,
Where you have left the money that I gave you?
E. Dro. Oh,-fix pence, that I had a Wednesday laft
To pay the fadler for my miftrefs' crupper?
The fadler had it, Sir; I kept it not.

Ant. I am not in a sportive humour now; Tell me and dally not, where is the money? We being ftrangers here, how dar'ft thou trust So great a charge from thine own custody?

E. Dro. I pray you, jeft, Sir, as you fit at dinner:
I from my miftrefs come to you in poft;
If I return, I fhall be poft indeed;

For fhe will score your fault upon my pate:
Methinks, your maw, like mine, fhould be your
And ftrike you home without a meffenger.

clock;

Ant. Come, Dromio, come, these jefts are out of season; Referve them 'till a merrier hour than this:

Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?

E. Dro. To me, Sir? why, you gave no gold to me. Ant. Come on, Sir knave, have done your foolishness; And tell me how thou haft difpos'd thy charge?

E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
Home to your house, the Phoenix, Sir, to dinner;
My mistress and her fifter ftay for you.

Ant. Now, as I am a chriftian, answer me,
In what fafe place you have beltow'd my money;
Or I fhall break that merry fconce of yours,
That ftands on tricks when I am undifpos'd:
Where are the thousand marks thou hadst of me?

E. Dro. I have fome marks of yours upon my pate;
Some of my miftrefs' marks upon my shoulders;
But not a thousand marks between you both.-
If I should pay your worship thofe again,
Perchance, you will not bear them patiently.

Ant. Thy miftrefs' marks? what miftrefs, flave haft thou?

E. Dro.

E. Dro. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phenix. She, that doth faft, 'till you come home to dinner; And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner.

Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid there take you that, Sir knave.

E. Dro. What mean you, Sir? for God's fake hold your hands ;

Nay, an you will not, Sir, I'll take my heels.

[Exit Dromie. Ant. Upon my life, by fome device or other, The villian is o'er-wrought of all my money. They fay, this town is full of couzenage; As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye; (4) Dark-working forcerers, that change the mind; Soul-killing witches, that deform the body; Difguifed cheaters, prating mountebanks,

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(4) As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye;

Dark-working forcerers, that charge the mind;

And

Soul-killing witches, that deform the body;] Tho' I have not dif turb'd the text, the ingenious conjecture, Mr. Warburton made to me upon this paffage, has fuch an appearance of juftnefs and likelihood, that I fhall fubjoin it in his own words. "Thefe, who attentively "confider these three lines, must confefs, that the Poet intended, "the epithet given to each of thefe mifcreants fhould declare the power by which they perform their feats, and which would therefore be a juít characteristic of each of them. Thus, by nimble "jugglers, we are taught that they perform their tricks by fight "band: and by foul-killing witches, we are inform'd, the mifchief "they do is by the affiftance of the devil to whom they have given "their fouls: But then, by dark-working forcerers, we are not in"structed in the means by which they perform their ends. Befides, "this epithet agrees as well to witches, as to them; and therefore, "certainly, our Author could not defign this in the characteriflick, "I am confident, we fhould read;

Drug-working forcerers, that charge the mind;

"And we know by the whole hiftory of antient and modern fupei "ftition, that these kind of jugglers always preter ded to work changes "of the mind by thefe applications. Hence all the fuperftition of

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love potions, which in this line is alluded to: And this practice "was fo common amongst the Greeks, that they gave the name of papuanos to this operator and therefore has Theocritus call'd his "fecond Eidyllium, whofe fubject is built on this kind of forcery, φαρμακεύτρια. Mr. Warburten. Brabantio, I remember, in Othell, where he thinks his daughter's VOL. III. I

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lentes

And

many fuch like liberties of fin:
If it prove fo, I will be gone the fooner.
I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this flave;
I greatly fear my money is not fafe.

A C T II.

[Exit,

SCENE, the House of Antipholis of Ephefus. Enter Adriana and Luciana.

N

ADRIANA.

Either my hufband, nor the flave return'd,

That in fuch hafte I fent to feek his mafter! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luc. Perhaps, fome merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he's fomewhere gone to dinner: Good fifter, let us dine, and never fret.

A man is master of his liberty:

Time is their mafter; and when they fee time,
They'll go or come; if fo, be patient, fifter.

Adr. Why fhould their liberty than ours be more?
Luc. Because their bufinefs ftill lies out a-door.
Adr. Look, when I ferve him fo, he takes it ill.
Luc. Oh, know, he is the bridle of your will.
Adr. There's none, but affes, will be bridled fo.
Luc. Why, head-strong liberty is lafht with woe.
There's nothing fituate under heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in fea, in fky:
The beafts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their male's fubjects, and at their controlls:
Man, more divine, the master of all these,
Lord of the wide world, and wide wat❜ry feas,

fenfes and inclinations must have been perverted by the Moor's practices, fpeaks not a little in confirmation of my friend's conjecture. Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense,

That thou haft practis'd on her with foul charms,
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals,
That weaken notion.-

Indu'd with intellectual fense and foul,
Of more preheminence than fifh 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 fway.
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' the paufe;
They can be meek, that have no other caufe:
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adverfity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;

But were we burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we fhould ourselves complain;
So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helplefs patience would't 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'st 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'ft not feel his' his meaning?

E. Dro. Nay, he ftruck fo plainly, I could too we!! feel his blows; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could fcarce understand them.

Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It feems, 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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