I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.

The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, wouldst vow,
That never words were mufick to thine ear,
That never object pleafing 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.
How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes ít,,
That thou art thus eftranged from thyself?
Thyfelf 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'ft 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 were licentious?
And that this body, confecrate to thee,
By ruffian luft fhould be contaminate ?
Would't thou not fpit at me, and fpurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the ftain'd skin of 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 flesh,

Being ftrumpeted by thy contagion,

Keep then fair league, and truce with thy true bed; I live dif-ftain'd, thou undifhonoured. (7)

(7) I live diftain'd, thou undifhonoured.] To diftaine. (from the French word, deftaindre) fignifies, to flain, defile, pollute. But the cor text requires a fenfe quite oppofite. We muft either read, unfaina; or, by adding an hyphen, and giving the prepofition a privatio fore read dif-ftain'd, and then it will mean, unftain'd, undefiled,

Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: In Ephefus I am but two hours old,

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

Luc. Fy, brother, how the world is chang'd with you;
When were you wont to use my fifter thus ?
She fent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
Ant. By Dromio ?

S. Dro. By me?

Adr. By thee; and thus thou didft return from him, That he did buffet thee, and in his blows

Deny'd my house for his, me for his wife.

Ant. Did you converfe, Sir, with this gentlewoman? What is the courfe and drift of your compact?

S. Dro. I, Sir? I never faw her 'till this time. Ant. Villain, thou lieft; for even her very words Didft thou deliver to me on the mart.

S. Dro. I never spoke with her in all my life.
Ant. How can the thus then call us by our names,
Unless it be by infpiration?

Adr How ill agrees it with your gravity,
To counterfeit thus grofly, with your flave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood P
Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will faften on this fleeve of thine;
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine;
Whose weakness, marry'd to thy stronger ftate,
Makes me with thy ftrength to communicate;
If ought poffefs thee from me, it is drofs,
Ufurping ivy, brier, or idle mofs;

Who, all for want of pruning, with intrufion
Infect thy fap, and live on thy confufion.

Ant. To me the fpeaks; she moves me for her theam;
What was I marry'd to her in my dream?
Or fleep I now, and think I hear all this?
What error drives our eyes and ears amiss ?
Until I know this fure uncertainty,

Il entertain the favour'd fallacy.

Luc

Luc. Dromio, go bid the fervants fpread for dinner.
S. Dro. Oh, for my beads! I cross me for a finner.
This is the Fairy land: oh, fpight of fpights!
We talk with goblins, ouphs, and elvish fprights; (8)
If we obey them not, this will enfue,

They'll fuck our breath, and pinch us black and blue.
Luc. Why prates thou to thyself, and anfwer'ft not? (9)
Dromio, thou drone, thou fnail, thou flug, thou fot.
S. Dro. I am transformed, mafter, am not I?
Ant. I think, thou art in mind, and fo am I.

S. Dro. Nay, mafter, both in mind and in my shape.
Ant. Thou haft thine own form.

S. Dro. No; I am an ape.

Luc. If thou art chang'd to ought, 'tis to an afs. S. Dro. 'Tis true; the rides me, and I long for grafs. 'Tis fo, I am an ass; else it could never be, But I fhould know her, as well as fhe knows me.

Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
To put the finger in the eye and weep,

Whilft man and mafter laugh my woes to fcorn.
Come, Sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gate;
Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day,
And shrive you of a thousand-idle pranks;

(8) We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish Sprights;] They might fancy, they talk'd with goblins and fprights; but why with owls, in the name of nonfenfe? or could ozols fuck their breath, and pinch them black and blue? I dare fay, my readers will acquiefce in the juftness of my emendation here: the word is common with our author in other paffages:

Merry Wives of Windfor.

Strew good luck, ouphs, on ev'ry facred room. And, again;

Like urchins, ouphs, and fairies, green and white. (9) Why prat ft thou to thyself?

Dromio, thou Dromio, fnail, theu flug, thou fot,] In the firft of thefe lines Mr. Rowe and Mr. Poe have both, for what reafon I cannot tell, curtail'd the reafure, and difmounted the doggrel rhyme, which I have replac'd from the first folio. The fecond verfe is there likewife read;

Dromio, thou Dromio, thou fnail, thou flug, thou fot. The verfe is thus half a foot too long; my correction cures that fault: befides drone correfponds with the other appellations of reproach.

Sirpah,

Sirrah, if any afk you for your mafter,

Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter:
Come, fifter; Dromio, play the porter well.
Ant. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Sleeping or waking, mad or well advis'd?
Known unto thefe, and to my felf disguis'd ?
I'll fay as they fay, and perfever fo;
And in this mift at all adventures go.

}

S. Dro. Mafter, fhall I be porter at the gate?
Adr. Ay, let none enter, left I break your pate.
Luc. Come, come, Antipholis, we dine too late.
[Exeunt

SCENE, the Street before Antipholis's Houfe.

Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, Dromio of Ephefus, Angelo, and Balthazar.

G

E. ANTIPHOLIS.

NOOD Signior Angelo, you must excufe us;
My wife is fhrewith, when I keep not hours
Say, that I linger'd with you at your fhop
To fe the making of her carkanet;

And that to-morrow you will bring it home.
But here's a villain, that would face me down
He met me on the mart, and that I beat him;
- And charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold;
And that I did deny my wife and house:

Thou drunkard, thou, what didft thou mean by this?
E. Dro. Say, what you will, Sir; but I know what
I know;

That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to fhow; If the fkin were parchment, and the blows you gave

were ink,

Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think.

E. Ant

E. Ant. I think, thou art an afs.

.

E. Dro. Marry, fo it don't appear (10) By the wrongs I fuffer, and the blows I bear; I fhould kick, being kickt; and, being at that pafs, You would keep from my heels, and beware of an afs.

E. Ant. Y'are fad, Signior Balthazar. Pray God,our cheer May answer my good will, and your good welcome here. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, Sir, and your welcome dear.

E. Ant. Ah, Signior Balthazar, either at flefh or fish, A table-full of welcome makes fcarce one dainty dish. Bal. Good meat, Sir, is common; that every churl affords.

E. Ant. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words.*

Bal. Small cheer, and good welcome, makes a merry feaft.

E. Ant. Ay, to a niggardly hoft, and more fparing gueft: But tho' my cates be mean, take them in good part; Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. But foft; my door is lockt; go bid them let us in.

E. Dro. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn S. Dro. within. Mome, malt-horfe, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch,

Either get thee from the door, or fit down at the hatch: Doft thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'ft for fuch

ftore,

When one is one too many? go, get thee from the door. E. Dro. What patch is made our porter? my mafter ftays in the street.

Dra Let him walk fromwhence he came, left he catch cold on's feet.

(10) Marry, fo it doth appear

By the wrongs I fuffer, and the blows I bear.] Thus all the printed copies; but, certainly, this is cross-purposes in reasoning. It appears, Dromio is an afs by his making no refiftance: becaufe an afs, being kick'd, kicks again. Our author never argues at this wild rate, where his text is genuine.

E. Ant