That never object pleasing in thine eye,

That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste,

Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to thee. How comes it now, my husband, O! how comes it, That thou art then estranged from thyself?

Thyself I call it, being strange to me,

That, undividable, incorporate,

Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me;
For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulph,
And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,

As take from me thyself, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Should'st thou but hear I were licentious,
And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate!
Would'st thou not spit at me, and spurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow,
And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?

I know thou can'st; and therefore, see, thou do it.
I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;

My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:
For, if we two be one, and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,

Being strumpeted by thy contagion.

Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed;
I live disstain'd, thou undishonoured.

Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you

not.

In Ephesus I am but two hours old,

I live DISSTAIN'D,] i. e. unstained. The use of the word in this sense is, if not solitary, very uncommon.

As strange unto your town, as to your talk;
Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,

Want wit in all one word to understand.

Luc. Fie, brother: how the world is chang'd with you!

When were you wont to use my sister thus?

She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.

Ant. S. By Dromio?

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?

What is the course and drift of your compact?

Dro. S. I, sir? I never saw her till this time. Ant. S. Villain, thou liest; for even her very words Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.

Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life.

Ant. S. How can she thus then call us by our names, Unless it be by inspiration?

Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity
To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt 5,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine;
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,
Makes me with thy strength to communicate:

5 —you are from me EXEMPT,] The use of "exempt " here is rather constrained, and the word seems to have been employed for sake of the rhyme, exactly in a similar sense as in the following couplet, quoted by Monck Mason from Beaumont and Fletcher's "Triumph of Honour :”—

"Hard-hearted Dorigen! yield, lest for contempt

They fix you there a rock, whence they're exempt.”

In both instances it means parted or separated.

If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, briar, or idle moss;

Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion

Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion.

Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme!

What, was I married to her in my dream,
Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this?
What error drives our eyes and ears amiss?
Until I know this sure uncertainty,

I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy.

Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Dro. S. O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. This is the fairy land: O, spite of spites!

We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprites".
If we obey them not, this will ensue,

They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.
Luc. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not?
Dromio, thou Dromio, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!
Dro. S. I am transformed, master, am I not?

Ant. S. I think thou art, in mind, and so am I.
Dro. S. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form.

Dro. S.

No, I am an ape.

Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an ass.

Dro. S. "Tis true; she rides me, and I long for grass.

"Tis So, I am an ass; else it could never be,

But I should know her, as well as she knows me.

Adr. Come, come; no longer will I be a fool,

To put the finger in the eye and weep,

❝ I'll entertain the OFFER'D fallacy.] Both the old folios read "freed fallacy," which cannot be right. Pope adopted "favoured fallacy;" but offered seems to come nearer the sense. The same character afterwards speaks of "an offer'd

chain." A. iii., sc. 2.

7-and ELVISH sprites.] Elvish is obtained from the second folio, where it stands only elces, but it was probably meant for elvish. The word is omitted in the first folio, and the line consequently defective.

Dromio, thou DROMIO,] Theobald altered the second "Dromio" in the old copies into drone. The folio 1632 omits "thou," before "snail," for the sake of the metre.

Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn.
Come, sir, to dinner.-Dromio, keep the gate.-
Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day,
And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.—
Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,

Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter.—
Come, sister.-Dromio, play the porter well.

Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Sleeping or waking? mad, or well-advis'd?
Known unto these, and to myself disguis'd?
I'll say as they say, and persever so,

And in this mist, at all adventures, go.

Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate?
Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.
Luc. Come, come, Antipholus; we dine too late.
[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The Same.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.

Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us

all;

My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours.

Say, that I linger'd with you at your shop
To see the making of her carkanet',

And that to-morrow you will bring it home;

9 And SHRIVE you] i. e. Take confession from you. The word is of the commonest occurrence, and is derived by etymologists from the Latin scribo, because the priests anciently gave those who confessed to them a written form of penance. Shrift is confession.

1 Carkanet ;] i. e. Necklace: in this instance it means a chain to be worn round the neck.

But here's a villain, that would face me down
He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,
And charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold;
And that I did deny my wife and house.-

Thou drunkard, thou, what did'st thou mean by this? Dro. E. Say what you will, sir; but I know what I

know.

That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show:

If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,

Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think. Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass.

Dro. E. Marry, so it doth appear, By the wrongs I suffer, and the blows I bear.

I should kick, being kick'd; and being at that pass, You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: pray God,

our cheer

May answer my good-will, and your good welcome

here.

Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear.

Ant. E. O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table-full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl

affords.

Ant. E. And welcome more common, for that's nothing but words.

Bal. Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.

Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing

guest:

But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. But soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in.