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Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
S. Dro. Sconce, call you it ? so you would leave þattering, 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. Doft thou not know?
S. Dro. Ay, Sir, and wherefore ; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.
Ant. Why, first, for fouting me, and then wherefore, for urging it the second time to me. S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of
season, When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhimę
nor reason? Well, Sir, I thank you.
Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.
Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for something. But say, Sir, is it dinner-time?
S. Dro. No, Sir, I think, the meat wants that I have.
S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchase me another dry-basting.
Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jest in good time; there's a time for all things.
S. Dro. I durst have deny'd that, before you were so cholerick.
Ant. By what rule, Sir ?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate
of father Time himself. Ant. Let's hear it.
S. Dro. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature.
Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery ?
S. Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the loft hair of another man.
* Ant. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?
S. Dro. 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. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.
S. Dro. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair.
Ant. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.
S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the sooner loft ; yet he loseth it in a kind of jollicy.
? In former Editions ; Them, I observe, are very fre
Ant. Why is Time such a quently mistaken vice versa for Niggard of Hair, bring, as it is, each other, in the old Impressions
plentiful an Excrement ? of our Author. THEOBALD. S. Dro. Because it is a Bleffing 3 Not a man of thof, but he that he behou's on Beafts, and bath she wit to lose bis hair.] what be bath franted them in hair, That is, Those who have more be barb given them in Wir.) Sure- bair tban wit, are easily entraply, this is Mock-reasoning, and ped by loote women, and suffer a Contradiction in Sense. Can the consequences of lewdness, Hair be suppos'd a Blessing, one of which, in the first appear. which Time bestows on Beasts ance of the disease in Europe, was peculiarly ; and yet that he hath the loss of hair. franted them of it too ? Men and 14
Ant. For what reason ?
S. Dro. The one to save the mony that he spends in tyring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge. Ant. You
would all this time have prov'd, there is no time for all things.
S. Dro. Marry, and did, Sir ; namely, no time to recover hair loft by nature.
Ant. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover.
S. Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers.
Ant. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion : buca soft! who wafts us yonder ?
S CE N E V.
Enter Adriana, and Luciana. Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholis, look strange and frown, Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects : I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, wouldst vow, That never words were musick to thine ear, That never object pleasing in thine eye, That never touch well welcome to thy hand, That never meat sweet-favour'd in thy taste, Unless I spake, or look’d, or touch'd, or carv’d. How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it, That thou art thus estranged from thyself? Thyself I call it, being strange to me: That, undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ant. Plead you to me, fair daine? I know you not :
4 I am poflefs'd with an adul .s I live distain'd, thou undifterate blot;
honoured.] To disaine (from My blood is mingled with the the French Word, distaindre) sig
CRIME of lujt:] Both the nifies, to stain, defile, pollite. But integrity of the metaphor, and the Context requires a Sense quite the word blit, in the preceding opposite. We must either read, line, snew that we should read unflain'd; or, by adding an Hy
-with the GRIME of luft: phen, and giving the Preposition i. e. the stain, imut. So again a privative Force, read dil-fain'd; in this play,- A man may go over and then it will mean, unflain'd, feoes in the GRIME of it. andefiled. WARBURTON.
Who, every word by all my wit being scann's,
Ant. By Dromio?
Adr. By thee; and thus thou didît return from him,
Ant. Did you converse, Sir, with this gentlewoman? What is the course and drift of your compact ?
S. Dro. I, Sir? I never saw her 'till this time.
Ant. Villain, thou liest ; for even her very words Didit 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 inspiration ?
Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, To counterfeit thus grosy with your fave, Abetting him to thwart me in my mood ? Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt ", But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. Come, I will faften on this neeve of thine ; 'Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine : Whose weakness, marry'd to thy stronger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate ; If aught poffefs thee from me, it is dross, Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss ; Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Infect thy fap, and live on thy confusion. Ant. To me she speaks ; she moves me for her
theam : What, was I marry'd to her in my dream ?
6- you are from me exempt.] the wrong of separation, yet injure Exempi, separated, parted. The not with contempo me who am alsense is, if I am doomed to suffer, ready injured.