S. Dro. Here, go; the desk, the purfe; fweet now, make hafte.

Luc. How haft thou loft thy breath?

S. Dro. By running faft.

Adr. Where is thy mafter, Dromio? is he well? S. Dro. No, he's in Tartar Limbo, worse than hell; A devil in an everlafting garment hath him, One, whofe hard heart is button'd up with steel: A fiend, a (a) fury, pitilefs and rough,

A wolf, nay, worfe, a fellow all in buff;

A back-friend, a fhoulder-clapper, one that commands
The paffages of allies, 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 arrefted? tell me, at whofe fuit.

S. Dro. I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well; but he's in a fuit of buff, which 'refted him, that I can tell. Will you fend him, mistress, redemption, the mony in his desk?

Adr. Go fetch it, fifter. This I wonder at,

[Exit Luciana. That he, unknown to me, fhould be in debt!

Tell me, was he arrested on a bond?

S. Dro. Not on a bond, but on a stronger thing, A chain, a chain; do you not hear it ring?

Adr. What, the chain?

[(a)-fury. Mr. Theobald, Vulg. fairy.]

S. Dro. No, no; the bell; 'tis time that I were

gone.

It was two ere I left him, and now the clock ftrikes

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?

S. Dro. Time is a very bankrout, and owes more
than he's worth, to season.

Nay, he's a thief too; have you not heard men fay,
That Time comes ftealing on by night and day?
If Time be in debt and theft, and a ferjeant in the way,
Hath he not reafon to turn back an hour in a day?
Enter Luciana.

Adr. Go, Dromio; there's the mony, bear it ftraight, And bring thy mafter home immediately. Come, fifter, I am preft down with conceit; Conceit, my comfort and my injury. [Exeunt.

S. Ant.

TH

HERE'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 mony to me, fome invite me;
Some other give me thanks for kindneffes;
Some offer me commodities to buy.
Ev'n now a taylor call'd me in his fhop,
And fhow'd me filks that he had bought for me,

And

And therewithal took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland forcerers inhabit here.

Enter Dromio of Syracufe.

S. Dro. Master, here's the gold you fent me for; what, have you got rid of the picture of old Adam new-apparel'd?

S. Ant. What gold is this? what Adam doft 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, Sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forfake your liberty.

S. Ant. I understand thee not.

S. Dro. No? why, 'tis a plain cafe; he that went like a bafe-viol in a cafe of leather; the man, Sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and 'refts them; he, Sir, that takes pity on decay'd men, and gives 'em fuits of durance; he, that fets up his

2

reft

2 be, that fets up his reft to do more exploits with his mace, than a MORRIS-pike.] Sets up his Reft, is a phrafe taken from military exercise. When gunpowder was firft invented, its force was very weak compared to that in prefent use. This necefiarily required fire-arms to be of an extraordinary length. As the artists improved the ftrength of their powder, the foldiers proportionably fhortned their arms and artillery; fo that the cannon which Froiffart tells us was once fifty foot long, was contracted to less than ten. This proportion likewife held in their muskets; fo that, till the middle of the last century, the musketeers always fupported their pieces when they gave fire, with a Reft stuck before them into the ground, which they called fetting up their Reft, and is here alluded to. There is another quibbling allufion too to the ferjeant's office of arrefting. But what most wants animadverfion is the morris-pike, which is without meaning, impertinent to the fenfe, and falle in the allufion; no pike being used amongst the dancers fo called, or at least not fam'd for much execution. In a word, Shakespear wrote, a MAURICE-Pike,

i. e. a Pikeman of Prince Maurice's army. He was the greatest

general

reft to do more exploits with his mace, than a Maurice-Pike.

S. Ant. What! thou mean'ft an officer?

S. Dro. Ay, Sir, the ferjeant of the band; he, that brings any man to answer it, that breaks his bond; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and faith, God give you good reft!

S. Ant. Well, Sir, there reft in your foolery.

Is there any fhip puts forth to night? may we be gone?

S. Dro. Why, Sir, I brought you word an hour fince, that the bark Expedition puts forth to night, and then were you hinder'd 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 so am I, And here we wander in illufions;

Some bleffed power deliver us from hence!

Cour. Well met, well met, mafter Antipholis. I fee, Sir, you have found the goldfmith now: Is that the chain, you promis'd me to day?

S. Ant. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not. S. Dro. Mafter, is this mistress Satan?

S. Ant. It is the devil.

S. Dro. Nay, fhe is worfe, 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,

general of that age, and the conductor of the Low-country wars against Spain, under whom all the English Gentry and Nobility were bred to the fervice. Being frequently overborn with numbers, he became famous for his fine Retreats, in which a ftand of Pikes is of great fervice. Hence the Pikes of his army became famous for their military exploits.

that's

10

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, Sir. Will you go with me, we'll mend our dinner here? S. Dro. Mafter, if you do expect spoon-meat, befpeak a long spoon.

S. Ant. Why, Dromio?

S. Dro. Marry, he must have a long fpoon, that must eat with the devil.

S. Ant. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'ft thou me of fupping?

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, Sir, and not trouble you. -S. Dro. Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail, a rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherry-ftone: but fhe, more covetous, would have a chain. Master, be wife; an if you give it her, the devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.

Cour. I pray you, Sir, my ring, or else the chain; I hope, you do not mean to cheat me fo? [go. S. Ant. Avaunt, thou witch! come, Dromio, let us S. Dro. Fly pride, says the peacock; mistress, that you know. [Exeunt.

Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholis is mad;
Elfe would he never fo demean himself.
A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
And for the fame he promis'd me a chain;
Both one, and other, he denies me now.

The