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And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie :
And in that glorious fuppofition think,
He gains by death, that hath fuch means to die;
Let love, being light, be drowned if the fink.
Luc. What, are you mad, that you do reason fo?
S. Ant. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.
Luc. It is a fault that fpringeth from your eye.

S. Ant. For gazing on your beams, fair fun, being by.
Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your
fight.

S. Ant. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on

night.

Luc. Why call you me, love; call my
S. Ant. Thy fifter's fifter.

Luc. That's my fister.

S. Ant. No;

It is thyfelf, my own felf's better part:

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fifter fo.

Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
My food, my fortune, and my fweet hope's aim,
My fole earth's heav'n, and my heaven's claim *:
Luc. All this my fifter is, or else should be.

S. Ant. Call thyself fifter, sweet; for I mean thee :
Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life;
Thou haft no hufband yet, nor I no wife.

Give me thy hand.

Luc. Oh, foft, Sir, hold you ftill;

I'll fetch my fifter, to get her good will. [Ex. Luciana,

SCENE III.

Enter Dromio of Syracufe.

S. Ant. Why, how now, Dromio, where run'ft thou fo faft?

S. Dro. Do you know me, Siram I Dromio? am I your man? am I myself?

S. Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself.

*My fole earth's heav'n, and my beaven's claim.] When he calls the girl his only heaven on earth, he utters the common gant of lovers. When he calls her bis beaven's claim, d cannot underftand him. Perhaps he means that which he asks of heaven.

S. Dro

S. Dro. I am an afs, I am a woman's man, and befides myself.

S. Ant. What woman's man; and how befides thyfelf?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, befides myfelf, I am due to a woman; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.

S. Ant. What claim lays fhe to thee?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fuch a claim as you would lay to your horfe; and fhe would have me as a beaft: not that, I being a beaft, fhe would have me; but that the, being a very beaftly creature, lays claim to me.

S. Ant. What is the ?.

S Dro. A very reverent body; ay, fuch a one as a man may not fpeak of, without he fay, Sir reverence: I have but lean luck in the match; and yet is the a wond'rous fat marriage.

S. Ant. How doft thou mean, a fat marriage?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fhe's the kitchen wench, and all greafe; and I know not what ufe to put her to, but to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a Lapland winter: if the lives 'till doomsday, he'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

S. Ant. What complexion is the of?

S. Dro. Swart, like my fhoe, but her face nothing like fo clean kept, for why? the fweats, a man may go over fhoes in the grime of it.

S. Ant. That's a fault that water will mend.

S. Dro. No, Sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.

S. Ant. (7) What's her name?

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S. Dro. Nell, Sir; - but her name and three quar

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ters (that is, an ell and three quarters) will not measure her from hip to hip.

S. Ant. Then the bears fome breadth ?

S. Dro. No longer from head to foot, than from hip to hip; the is spherical, like a globe: I could find out countries in her.

S. Ant. In what part of her body ftands Ireland?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, in her buttocks, I found it out by the bogs.

S. Ant. Where Scotland?

S. Dro. I found it out by the barrenness, hard in the palm of her hand.

S. Ant. (8) Where France ?

(8) S. Ant. Where France ?

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S. Dro.

S. Dis. In ber forebead: arm'd and reverted, making War against ber Hair.] All the other Countries, mention'd in this Defcription, are in Dromio's Replies fatirically characteriz'd: but here, as the Editors have order'd it, no Remark is made upon France; nor any Reafon given, why it fhould be in her Forehead; but only the Kitchen-wench's high Forehead is rallied, as pushing back her Hair. Thus all the modern Editions; but the first Folio reads making War against ber Heir And I am very apt to think, this laft is the true Reading; and that an Equivoque, as the French call it, a double Meaning, is defign'd in the Poet's Allufion and therefore I have replaced it in the Text. In 1589, Henry III. of France being ftabb'd, and dying of his Wound, was fuc ceeded by Henry IV. of Navarre, whom he appointed his Succeffor; but whofe Claim the States of France refifted, on account of his being a Proteftant. This, I take it, is what he means, by France making War against her Heir. Now as, in 1591, Queen Elizabeth fent over 4000 Men, under the Conduct of the Earl of Effex, to the Affiftance of this Henry of Navarre; it seems to me very probable, that during this Expedition being on foot, this Comedy made its Appearance. And it was the fineft Addrefs imaginable in the Poet to throw fuch an oblique Sneer at France, for oppofing the Succeffion of that Heir, whofe Claim his Royal Miftrefs, the Queen, had fent over a Force to establish, and oblige them to acknowledge. THEOBALD.

With this correction and explication Dr. Warburton concurs, and Sir T. Hanmer thinks an equivocation intended, though he retains bair in the text. Yet furely they all have loft the fenfe by look. ing beyond it. Our authour, in my opinion, only fports with an allufion, in which he takes too much delight, and means that his mistress had the French disease. The ideas are rather too offenfive, to be dilated. By a forehead armed, he means covered with incrusted eruptions; by reverted, he means having the hair turn

S: Dro. In her forehead; arm'd and reverted, making war against her hair.

S. Ant. Where England?

S. Dro. I look'd for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in them; but I guefs it ftood in her chin, by the falt rheum that ran between France and it.

S. Ant. Where Spain?

S. Dro. Faith, I faw it not, but I felt it hot in her breath.

S. Ant. Where America, the Indies ??

S. Dro. Oh, Sir, upon her nofe, all o'er embellifh'd with rubies, carbuncles, fapphires; declining their rich afpect to the hot breath of Spain, who fent whole armadoes of, carracts to be ballaft at het nofe..

S. Ant. Where ftood Belgia, the Netherlands?

S. Dro. Oh, Sir, I did not look fo low. (9) To con- clude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me Dromio, fwore I was affur'd to her, told me what privy marks I had about me, as the marks of my fhoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I, amaz'd, ran from her as a witch. (1) And, I think, if my breaft had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, fhe had transform'd me to a curtal dog, and made me turn i'th' wheel.

ing backward. An equivocal word must have fenfes applicable to both the fubjects to which it is applied. Both Forebead and France might in fome fort make war against their bair, but how did the forebead make war against its beir? The fenfe which I have given immediately occurred to me, and will, I believe, arife to every reader, who is contented with the meaning that lies before him, without fending out conjecture in fearch of refinements.

(9) To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me,] A little lower, he calls her witch. A word is certainly dropt out of the Text. We should read,

this drudge.OF THE DEVIL, THIS diviner, Drudge of the Devil, is the right periphrafis for a witch

WARBURTON.

(1) And, I think, if my breaft bad not been made of faith, r.] Alluding to the fuperftition of the common people, that nothing could refift a witch's power, of transforming men into animals, but a great fhare of faith: however the Oxford Editor thinks a breaft made of flint, better fecurity, and has therefore put it in. WARBURTON.

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S. Ant. Go, hie thee presently; poft to the road
And if the wind blow any way from fhore,
I will not harbour in this town to night.
If any bark put forth, come to the mart;
Where I will walk, 'till thou return to me:
If every one know us, and we know none,
'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.
S. Dro. As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly I from her that would be
my wife.

Exit.

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S. Ant. There's none but witches do inhabit here;
And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence:
She, that doth call me hufband, even my foul
Doth for a wife abhor. 'But her fair filter,
Poffelt with such a gentle fovereign grace,
Of fuch inchanting prefence and difcourfe,
Hath almoft made me traitor to myself:
But left myself be guilty of felf-wrong,
I'll ftop my ears against the mermaid's fong.

Enter Angelo, with a Chain.

Ang. Mafter Antipholis,

S. Ant. Ay, that's my name.

Ang. I know it well, Sir; la, here is the chain;
I thought t' have ta'en you at the Porcupine
The chain, unfinish'd, made me ftay thus long.

3. Ant. What is your will, that I fhall do with this?
ng. What please yourself, Sir; I have made it for

you.

S. Ant. Made it for me, Sir! I befpoke it not. 'Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have:

Ang.

Go home with it, and please your

wife withal; And foon at fupper-time I'll vifit you,

And then receive my money for the chain.

S. Ant. I pray you, Sir, receive the money now; For fear you ne'er fee chain, nor money, more. You are a merry man, Sir, fare you well.

[Exit.

Ang.
S. Ant. What I fhould think of this, I cannot tell :

But

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