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Ant. Stop in your wind, Sir; tell me this, I pray, Where you have left the mony that I gave you? E. Dro. Oh,-fix-pence, that I had a Wednesday last, 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 mony? We being ftrangers here, how dar'ft thou trust So great a charge from thine own cuftody?

E. Dro. I pray you, jeft, Sir, as you fit at dinner: I from my mistrefs come to you in poft;

If I return, I shall be post indeed;

For fhe will score your fault upon my pate:
Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your clock;
And strike you home without a meffenger..

Ant. Come, Dromio, come, thefe jefts are out of
feafon :

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 foolishnefs;

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 Phanix, 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 bestow'd my mony;
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 mistress' marks upon my fhoulders; But not a thoufand marks between you both.. If I should pay your worship thofe again, Perhaps, you will not bear them patiently.

Ant.

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

E. Dro. Your worship's wife, my miftrefs 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 Dromio.

Ant. Upon my life, by fome device or other,
The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.
They fay, this town is full of couzenage2;
As nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye;
Dark-working forcerers, that change the mind;
Soul-killing witches, that deform the body;

* That is, over-reached. They say, this town is full of couzenage:] This was the character the ancients give of it. Hence 'Epíosa áreaquana was proverbial amongst them. Thus Menander ufes it, and 'Epéria rgánuala, in the fame fenfe.

WARBURTON.

3 As nimble Jugglers, that deceive the eye; Dark working Sorcerers, that change the mind; Soul-killing Witches, that deform

the Body;] Thofe, who attentively confider these three Lines, muft confider, 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 juft Characteristick of each of them.

Disguised

Thus, by nimble Jugglers, we
are taught that they perform their
Tricks by Slight of Hand: and
by Soul-killing Witches, we are
informed, the mifchief they do
is by the affiftance of the Devil,
to whom they have given their
Souls: But then, by dark-work-
ing Sorcerers, we are not in-
ftructed in the means by which
they perform their Ends. Be-
fides, this Epithet agrees as well
to Witches, as to them; and
therefore, certainly, our Author
could not defign This in their
Characteristick. We should read;

Drug-working Sorcerers, that
change the mind;

And we know by the Hi-
ftory of ancient and modern Su-
perftition, that thefe kind of
Jugglers always pretended to

work

1

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

ACT II.

N

[Exit.

SCENE I.

The House of Antipholis of Ephefus.

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

ADRIAN A.

EITHER my husband, nor the slave 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 see time,
They'll go or come; If fo, be patient, fifter.

work Changes of the Mind by
thefe Applications.

WARBURTON. The learned commentator has endeavoured with much earnestness to recommend his alteration; but, if I may judge of other apprehenfions by my own, without great fuccefs. This interp etation of foul killing, is forced and harsh. Sir T. Hanmer reads, Soul-felling, agreeably enough to the common opinion, but without fuch improvement as may juftify the change. Perhaps the epithets have been only misplaced, and the lines

fhould be read thus,
Soul-killing forcerers, that change
the mind;
Dark-working witches, that de-
form the body.
This change feems to remove
all difficulties.

By foul-killing I understand defroying the rational faculties by fuch means as make men fancy themselves beasts.

4

liberties of fin:] Sir T. Hanmer reads, Libertines, which, as the author has been enumerating not acts but perfons, feems right.

Adr.

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-ftrong liberty is lafht with woe.
There's nothing fituate under heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in fea, in fky:
The beats, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' fubjects, and at their controuls:
Man, more divine, the master of all these,
Lord of the wide world, and wide wat❜ry feas,
Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and foul,

Of more preheminence than fish 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 practise to obey.

Adr. How if your husband start some other where ? Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear, Adr. Patience unmov'd!-no marvel tho' fhe 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 helpless patience wouldst relieve me : But if thou live to fee like right bereft, This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.

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Luc.

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Luc. Well, I will marry one day but to try:

Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh.

SCENE II.

Enter Dromio of Ephefus.

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 witnefs.

Adr. Say, did'ft thou fpeak with him? know'st thou his mind?

E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear. Befhrew his hand, I fcarce could understand it..

Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?

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

Adr. But fay, I pry'thee, is he coming home?

It feems, he hath great care to please his wife.

E. Dro. Why, mistress, fure, my master is hornmad.

Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?

E. Dro. I mean not, cuckold-mad; but, fure, he's
ftark mad:

When I defired him to come home to dinner,
He afk'd me for a thousand marks in gold:
'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; 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 thofand marks I gave thee, villain?
The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; my gold, quoth he.
My miftrefs, Sir, quoth I; hang up thy mistress;
I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!

that patience which is fo near to idiotical fimplicity, that your next relation would take advantage

from it to reprefent you as a fool and beg the guardianship of your fortune.

Luc.

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