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But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
Will lose his beauty, yet the gold 'bide still,
SCENE II. The same.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse.
Antipholus of Syracuse.
THE gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave
How now, sir! is your merry humour alter'd?
Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a word?
Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, And told'st me of a mistress, and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas'd.
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
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?
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.
Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore.
Ant. S. Why, first, for flouting me; and then, wherefore,
For urging it the second time to me.
Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season?
When, in the why and the wherefore, is neither rime
Well, sir, I thank you.
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 nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinnertime?
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. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting.
Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time; there's a time for all things.
Dro. S. 1 durst have denied that, before you were so choleric.
Ant. S. By what rule, sir?
Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of father Time himself.
Ant. S. Let's hear 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 periwig, 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.
Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.
Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost. Yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity.
Ant. S. For what reason?
Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too.
Dro. S. Sure ones then.
Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.
Dro. S. Certain ones then.
Ant. 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, e'en 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. Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion.But soft! who wafts us yonder!
Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.
Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, 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 would'st vow That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to thee.
That, undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self's better part.
As take from me thyself, and not me too.
I know thou canst; and therefore, see, thou do it.
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed; I live undistain'd, thou undishonoured.
Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not.
In Ephesus I am but two hours old;
As strange unto your town, as to your talk,
Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,
Luc. Fie, brother, how the world has chang'd with
When were you wont to use my sister thus?
Dro. S. By me?
Adr. By thee: and this thou didst return from him,
That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows
Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
Ant. S. Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?