Dear life redeems you. You perceive, she stirs ; Paul. No longer shall you gaze on't; lest your | Is she become the suitor. May think anon, it moves. Leon. [fancy Let be, let be. Leon. O, she's warm! Pol. [Embracing her. She embraces him. Paul. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you: but And from your sacred vials pour your graces I could afflict you further. Upon my daughter's head ! - Tell me, mine own, found Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear, that I,— Paul. There's time enough for that; So long could I Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and there Either forbear, Leon. What you can make her do, To make her speak, as move. Paul. It is requir'd, This play, as Dr. Warburton justly observes, is, with all its absurdities, very entertaining. The character of Autolycus is naturally conceived, and strongly represented.-JOHNSON. Warburton is not guilty of a criticism so frigid as Johnson has represented.-11is words are "This play, throughout, is written in the very spirit of its author. And in telling this homely and simple, though agreeable, country tale, Our sweetest Shakspeare, fancy's child, Leon. By us, a pair of kings.-Let's from this place.- My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law, [Exeunt misled some of great name into a wrong judgment of its merits which, as far as it regards sentiment and character, is scarce in ferior to any in the whole collection." The persons of great name to whom Warburton alludes art Dryden and Pope. The former of whom mentions this play with no great indulgence, in the Essay at the end of the secand part of the Conquest of Grenada; while the latter, in the preface to his edition of our author's works, is rash enough to class it with Love's Labour's Lost, the Comedy of Errors, and i'itus Andronicus, as one of the plays, in which Shakspeare had produced only some characters, or single scenes, or perhaps a few particular passages. THIS play, of which the first edition was that of the folio 1623, is mentioned by Meres in 1528, and exhibits interna! proofs of having been one of Shakspeare's earliest productions. A translation of the Menachmi of Plautus by W. W (i. e. according to Ward, William Warner) was published in 1595, and may have afforded the ground work of the present comedy. SCENE I.-A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, ÆGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants. Ege. Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, If any, born at Ephesus, be seen Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, Unto a woman, happy but for me, And by me too, had not our hap been bad. And, which was strange. the one so like the other Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, A doubtful warrant of immediate death; Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so, For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Age. O, had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily term'd them merciless to us! For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues We were encounter'd by a mighty rock; Which being violently borne upon, Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst, Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. [Exit DRO. §. Aut. S. A trusty villain, sir; that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, Lightens my humour with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to my inn, and dine with me? Mer. I am 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 afterwards consort you till bed-time; My present business calls me from you now. Ant. S. Farewell till then I will go lose myself, : Duke. And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, And wander up and down to view the city. Do me the favour to dilate at full What hath befall'u of them, and thee, till now. Ege. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, At eighteen years became inquisitive Gael. I will, my lord. Ege. Hopeless, and helpless, doth Ægeon wend, But to procrastinate his lifeless end. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A public Place. Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse, and a Merchant. Mer. Therefore, give out, you are of Epidamnum, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day a Syracusan merchant Is apprehended for arrival here; And, not being able to buy out his life, According to the statute of the town, There is your money that I had to keep. Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. I to the world am like a drop of water, Here comes the almanac of my true date.- Aut. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray; Where have you left the money that I gave you! Dro. E. 0,-sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ;The saddler had it, sir, I kept it not. Aut. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust So great a charge from thine own custody? Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner. I from my mistress come to you in post; If I return, I shall be post indeed; For she will score your fault upon my pate. Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your clock, And strike you home without a messenger. Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: [season: Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? Dro. E. To me, sir? why you gave no gold to me. ishness, And tell me, how thou hast dispos'd thy charge. Ant. S. Now, as I am a christian, answer me, Ant. S. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, In what safe place you have bestow'd my money; And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. Within this hour it will be dinner-time: Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, That stands on tricks when I am undispos'd: Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I.-A public Place. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. [Exit. Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him, Time is their master; and, when they see time, Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? Adr. This servitude takes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. Adr. But, were you wedded you would bear some Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. [sway. Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear. Adr. Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she They can be meek, that have no other cause. [pause; A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain: So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience would'st relieve me : But, if thou live to see like right bereft, Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try :Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh Enter DROMIO of Ephesus. Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that [his mind? my two ears can witness. Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear; Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them. Adr. But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to please his wife. Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn.mad. Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain? [stark mad Dro. E. I mean not cuckold mad; but, sure, he's When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner time, quoth 1; My gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; My gold, quoth he Will you come home? quoth I; My gold, quoth he Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; My gola, quoth he My mistress, sir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress.; I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress! Luc. Quoth who? Dro. E. Quoth my master: I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress ; I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home, Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home › For God's sake send some other messenger. Adr. Back, slave, or I wil! break thy pate across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other Between you 1 shall have a holy head. [beating: Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy niaster home. Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus? You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. Luc. Fye, how impatience lowreth in your face Adr. His company must do his minions grace.. Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it; Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait? That's not my fault, he's master of my state: What ruins are in me, that can be found By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground of my defeatures: My decayed fair A sunny look of his would soon repair: But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. Luc. Self-harming jealousy!-fye, bear it hence. Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; ᄂ Or else, what lets it but he would be here? Sister, you know, he promised me a chain ;Would that alone alone he would detain, So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! I see the jewel, best enamelled, Enter ANTIPUOLUS of Syracuse. Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein : What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beating him. Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest Upon what bargain do you give it me? [earnest : Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes Do use you for my fool, and chat with you, Your sauciness will jest upon my love, And make a common of my serious hours. When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport, But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams. If you will jest with me, know my aspect, And fashion your demeanour to my looks, Or I will beat this method in your sconce. Dro. S. Sconce, call you it? so you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. But, I pray sir, why am I beaten? Ant. S. Dost thou not know? Dro. S. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. Ant. S. Shall I tell you why? Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore. Ant. S. Why, first, — for flouting me; and then, For urging it a second time to me. [wherefore, Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season? When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither rhyme Well, sir, I thank you. [nor reason? Ant. S. Thank me, sir? for what? Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, to give you no. thing for something. But, say, sir, is it dinner-time? Dro. S. No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. Ant. S. In good time, sir, what's that? Dro. S. Basting. Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. Dro S If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it. Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature. Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man. Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit. Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. Dro. S. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair. Aut. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. he loseth it in a kind of jollity. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: Yet Aut. S. For what reason? Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too. Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. Aut. S. Name them. Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge. Ant. S. You would all this time have proved, there is no time for all things. Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature. Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the world's end, will have bald followers. But soft! who wafts us yonder? Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion: Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. |