m

Of my 'defeatures: My decayed " fair
A funny look of his would foon repair:
But, too unruly "deer, he breaks the pale,

And feeds from home; poor I am but his ftale.
Luc. Self-harming jealoufy !-fye, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs difpenfe.
I know his eye doth homage other-where

Or elfe, what lets it but he would be here?
Sifter, you know, he promis'd me a chain ;—
Would that alone alone he would detain,

So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
I fee, the jewel, best enamelled,

Will lofe his beauty; and though gold, 'bides ftill,
That others touch; yet often touching will
Wear gold and so no man, that hath a name,
But falfhood and corruption doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools ferve mad jealousy

1 defeatures:]-alteration in my features for the worse. fair-fairnefs, beauty.

"But the fair of Rosalind.”

}

[Exeunt.

AS YOU LIKE IT, A&t III, S. 1. Song. Having no fair to lose."

POEMS, 456.

"deer" I'll be thy park, and thou shalt be my deer."

POEMS, 415.

• I am but his ftale.]-I am grown ftale, my charms, from familiarity, have loft their force-a mask, or cover for his amours-a cloak for his infidelity.

"Poor I am ftale, a garment out of fashion."

CYMBELINE, A& III, S. 4. Imo. falfhood and corruption]-breach of the marriage vow, and illicit

commerce with others.

SCENE

SCENE II.

The Street.

Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.

Ant. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful flave
Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
I could not speak with Dromio, fince at first
I fent him from the mart: See, here he comes.

Enter Dromio of Syracufe.

How now, fir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, fo jeft with me again.
You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress fent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phoenix? Waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didst answer me?

S. Dro. What anfwer, fir? when spake I fuch a word? Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour fince.

S. Dro. I did not fee you fince you fent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.

vein:

Ant. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt; And told't me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt'ft I was displeas'd. S. Dro. I am glad to fee you in this merry What means this jeft? I pray you, maste, tell me. Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'ft thou, I jeft? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beats Dromio. S. Dro. Hold, fir, for God's fake: now your jeft is

earnest:

VOL. I.

C c

Upon

Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Ant. Because that I familiarly fometimes
Do ufe you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fawcinefs will jeft upon my love,

And make a common of my ferious hours.
When the fun fhines, let foolish gnats make sport,
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams,
If you will jeft with me, know my afpect,
And fashion your demeanour to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your fconce.

S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? fo 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 infconc eit too, or else I shall feek my wit in my fhoulders. But, I pray, fir, why am I beaten?

Ant. Doft thou not know?

S. Dro. Nothing, fir; but that I am beaten.

Ant. Shall I tell you why?

S. Dro. Ay, fir, and wherefore; for, they fay, every why hath a wherefore.

Ant. First, why, for flouting me; and then, wherefore,For urging it the second time to me.

S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of feafon?

When, in the why, and the wherefore, is neither rhime nor reafon ?

Well, fir, I thank you.

Ant. Thank me, fir? for what?

S. Dro. Marry, fir, for this fomething that you gave me for nothing.

Ant. I'll make you amends next time, give you nothing for fomething. But fay, fir, is it dinner-time?

I make a common]-too freely intrude upon.

r

a feonce &c.]-a flight fortification, and hide it too.

S. Dro.

S. Dro. No, fir; I think, the meat wants that I have.

Ant. In good time, fir, what's that?

S. Dro. Bafting.

Ant. Well, fir, then 'twill be dry.

S. Dro. If it be, fir, pray you eat none of it.
Ant. Your reason?

S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchase me another dry basting.

Ant. Well, fir, learn to jeft in good time; There's a time for all things.

S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were fo cholerick.

Ant. By what rule, fir?

S. Dro. Marry, fir, 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, grows bald by nature.

that

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 a another man.

Ant. Why, is time fuch a niggard of hair to men, being, as it is, fo plentiful an excrement?

S. Dro. Because it is a blefling that he bestows on beasts: and what he hath fcanted them 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 thofe, but he hath the wit to lofe his hair.

Ant. Why, thou didft conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

of hair.

t

fcanted men.

"Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair.]-Not a weak man but may lose his hair in the pursuit of loose women.

Cc 2

S. Dro.

S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft: Yet he lofeth it in a kind of jollity.

Ant. For what reafon ?

S. Dro. For two; and found ones too.

Ant. Nay, not found, I pray you.

S. Dro. Sure ones then.

W

Ant. Nay, not fure, in a thing falfing.

S. Dro. Certain ones then.

Ant. Name them.

S. Dro. The one, to fave the money that he spends in tiring; 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, fir; namely, no time to recover hair loft by nature.

Ant. But your reafon was not fubftantial, 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 conclufion :

X

But foft! who wafts us yonder?

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholis, look ftrange, and frown; Some other mistress hath thy fweet afpects,

I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.

The time was once, when thou unurg'd, wouldft 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 fpake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to thee.

W

falling.

wafts]-beckons.

How