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Are my

That like a football you do spurn me thus?
You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hi-

ther: If I last in this service, you must case me in leather.'

[Exit. Luc. Fye, how impatience lowreth in your face!

Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry

Hath homely age the alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it;

discourses dull? barren my wit ?
If voluble and sharp discourse be marr’d,
Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard.
Do their gay vestments his affections bait ?
That's not my fault, he's master of
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground
of my defeatures: My decayed fair
A sunny look of his would soon repair:
But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale.

Luc. Self-harming jealousy!—fye, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such


dispense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; Or else, what lets it but he would be here? Sister, you know, he promis'd me a chain;Would that alone alone he would detain,

my state:

the word round, which signifies spherical, applied to himself, and unrestrained, or free in speech or action spoken of his mistress.

case me in leather.] Still alluding to a football, the bladder of which is always covered with leather.

? Of my defeatures:) By defeatures is here meant alteration of feutures. At the end of this play the same word is used with a somewhat different signification.

My decayed fair -] Fair for fairness. poor I am but his stale.] i.e. his pretence.




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Published 000! 10!42804, by E *C. Riving ton, S. Paul's Church Yard.

So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
I see, the jewel, best enamelled,
Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, yet often touching will
Wear gold; and so no man, that hath a name,
But falshood 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 serve mad jealousy!



The same.

Enter AntiPHOLUS of Syracuse. Ant. S. The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out. By computation, and mine host's report, I could not speak with Dromio, since at first I sent him from the mart: See here he comes.

Enter Dromio of Syracuse.
How now, sir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
You know no Centaur? you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?

s I see, the jewel, best enamelled,

Will lose his beauty, and though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, yet often touching will
Wear gold; and so no man, that hath a name,

But falshood and corruption doth it shane.] The sense is this: Gold, indeed, will long bear the handling; however, often touching will wear even gold; just so the greatest character, though as pure as gold itself, may, in time, be injured, by the repeated attacks of falshood and corruption." WARBURTON.

My house was at the Phønix ? Wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?
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 re

ceipt; 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

teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that.

[Beating him. Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest

is earnest: 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

And make a common of my serious hours.] i. e. intrude on them when you please. The allusion is to those tracts of ground destined to common use, which are thence called commons.

know my aspéct,] i, e. study my countenance.

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