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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 "2.
Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.
Dro. S. The plainer dealer the sooner lost: Yet be loseth it in a kind of jollity.
Ant. S. For what reason?
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, 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 ld, and therefore, to the world's end, will have bald fo lowers.
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 musick to thine ear, That never object pleasing in thine eye, That never touch'd well-welcome to thy hand, That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste, Unless I spake, look'd, touch'd, or cary'd to thee. How comes it now, my husband, oh, 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,
Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd
When were you wont to use my sister thus ?
Ant. S. By Dromio?
woman? 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
Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life.
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's, 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: 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.