Adr. What, is he arrested? tell me, at whose suit. S. Dro. I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well; but he's in a suit of buff, which 'rested him, that I can tell. Will you send him, mistress redemption, the mony in his desk? Adr. Go fetch it, fifter. This I wonder at, [Exit Luc. That he, unknown to me, should be in debt! Tell me, was he arrested on a bond ? S. Dro. Not on a bond, but on a stronger thing, A Chain, a Chain; do you not hear it ring? Adr. What, the Chain? S. Dro. No, no, the bell; 'tis time that I were gone. It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one, Adr. The hours come back! that I did never hear. S. Dro. O yes, if any hour meet a serjeant, a' turns back for very fear. Adr. As if Time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason? he's worth, to Season. Enter Luciana. And bring thy master home immediately. Conceit, my comfort and my injury. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Street, Enter Antipholis of Syracuse. I Some Some tender mony to me, some invite me; Enter Dromio of Syracuse. $. Dro. Mafter, here's the gold you sent me for ; (18) what, have you got rid of the picture of old Adam new-appareld? S. Ant. What gold is this? whaç Adam dost thou mean? S. Dro. Not that Adam, that kept the Paradise; but that Adam, that keeps the Prison; he that goes in the calves-skin, that was killid for the Prodigal; he that came behind you, Sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty, S. Ant. I understand thee not. S. Dro. No? why 'tis a plain case; he that went like a base-viol in a case of leather; the man, Sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and rests them; he, Sir, that takes pity on decay'd men, and gives them suits of durance; he, that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace, than a morris-pike. (18) what, bave you got the pi&ture of old Adam new apparell d?) A short Word or two must have flipt out here, by fome Accident in copying, or at Press: otherwise I have no Conception of the Meaning of the Passage. The Case is this. Dromio's Master had been arrested, and sent his Servant home for Money to redeem him: He running back with the Money, meets the Twin Antipholis, whom he mistakes for his Matter, and seeing him clear of the Officer before the Money was come, he cries in a Surprize; What, have you got rid of the Pi&ture of old Adam new apparelld? For fo I have ventur'd to supply, by Conje&ture. But why is the Officer call'd old Adam new appareli'd ? 'The Allusion is to Adam in his State of Innocence going naked; and immediately after the Fall, being cloath'd in a Frock of skins. Thus he was new-apparell’d: and in like manner the Sergeants of the Counter were formerly clad in Buff, or Calves-Skin, As the Author humourously a little lower calls it. S. Ante S. Ant. What! thou mean't an officer? S. Dro. Ay, Sir, the serjeant of the band; he, that brings any man to answer it that breaks his bond; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and faith, God give you good reft. s. Ant. Well, Sir, there reit in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to night? may we be gone? S. Dro. Why, Sir, I brought you word an hour lince, that the bark Expedition puts forth to night; and then were you hinderd by the serjeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay; here are the angels that you sent for, to deliver you. S. Ant. The fellow is distract, and so am I, Enter a Curtežan. S. Ant. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not. S. Dro. Nay, she is worse, she's the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and thereof comes, that the wenches say, God dam me, that's as much as to say, God make me a light wench. It is written, they appear to men like angels of light; light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn; come not near her. Cur. Your man and you are marvellous merry, Sir. Will you go with me, we'll mend our dinner here? S. Dro. Mafter, if you do expect spoon-meat, bespeak a long spoon. S. Ant. Why, Dromio ? S. Dro. Marry, he must have a long spoon, that must eat with the devil. S. Ant. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'ft thou me of supping? Thou art, as you are all, a lotceress: you know. I conjure thee to leave me, and begone. Cur. Give me the ring of mine, you had at dinner, Or for my diamond the Chain you promis'd, And I'll be gone, Sir, and not trouble you. S. Dro. Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail, á rush, á hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherry stone: but she, more covétous, would have a Chain.' Master, be wise; an if you give it her, the devil will fhake her Chain, and fright us with it. Cur. I pray you, Sir, my ring, or else the chain; I hope, you do not mean to cheat me lo ? S. Ant. Avant, thou witch! come, Dromio, let us go. $. Dro. Fly pride, says the peacock; mistress, that [Exeunt. Manet Curtezan. Cur. Now, out of doubt, Antipholis is mad ;) Else would he never fo demean himself. A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, And for the fame he promis'd me a Chain; Both one, and other, he denies me now. The reason, that I gather, he is mad, (Besides this present instance of his rage) Is a mad Tale he told to day at dinner, Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits, On purpose shut the doors against his way. My way is now to hie home to his house, And tell his wife, that, being lunatick, He rufi'd into my house, and took perforce My ring away. This course I fittest chase; For forty ducats is too much to lose. (Exit. Ś ĆEN E changes to the Street. · Enter Antipholis of Ephesus with a failor. E. Ant. F Ear me not, man; I will not break away ; mony, My My wife is in a wayward mood to day, Enter Dromio of Ephesus, with a rope's-end. you for? E. Dro. To a rope's end, Sir; and to that end am I [Beats Dro, Offi. Good Sir, be patient. E. Dro. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity. Ofi. Good now, hold thy tongue. E. Dro. I would, I were senseless, Sir, that I might not feel your blows. E. Ant. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass. E. Dro. I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have serv'd him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm, he cools me with beating; I am wak’d with it, when I sleep; rais'd with it, when I fit; driven out of doors with it, when I go from home; welcom'd home with it, when I return; nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lam'd me, I shall beg with it from door to door. Enter |