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

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

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

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

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

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, befides myself, 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. Dr. Marry, Sir, fuch a claim as you would lay to your horfe; and she would have me as a beaft, not that, I being a beast, she 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 fhe 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 use 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 Poland winter: if the lives 'till doomsday, fhe'll burn.a week longer than the whole world.

S. Ant. What complexion is the of?.

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

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

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

S: Ant.

S. Ant. (12) What's her name?

S. Dro. Nell, Sir;-but her name and three quarters (that is, an ell and three quarters) will not measure her from hip to hip.

S. Ant. Then she bears fome breadth ?

S. Dro. No longer from head to foot, than from hip to hip; fhe is fpherical, like a globe; I could find out

countries in her.

S. Ant. In what part of her body stands 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. (13) Where France?

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

(12) S. Ant. What's ber Name ?

S. Ant.

S. Dro. Nell, Sir; but her Name is three Quarters; that is, an Ell and three Quarters, &c.] This Paffage has hitherto lain as perplext and unintelligible, as it is now eafy, and truly humourous. If a Conundrum be restor'd, in setting it right, who can help it? There are enough befides in our Author, and Ben Johnson, to countenance that current Vice of the Times when this Play appear'd. Nor is Mr. Pope, in the Chastity of his Tafte, to briftle up at Me for the Revival of this Witticism, fince I owe the Correction to the Sagacity of the ingenious Dr. Thirlby.

(13) S. Ant. Where France?

S. Dro. In ber Forebead; arm'd and reverted, making War against ber Hair.] All the other Countries, mention'd in this Description, 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 Reason given, why it should 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 firft Folio reads—making War against her Heir And I am very apt to think, this Laft is the true Reading; and that an Equivoque, as the French call it, à double Meaning is defign'd in the Poet's Allufion: and therefore I have replac'd it in the Text. In 1589, Henry III. of France

S. Ant. Where England?

S. Dro. I look'd for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in them; but I guess, 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 embellish'd with rubies, carbuncles, faphires; declining their rich afpect to the hot breath of Spain, who fent whole armadoes of carracts to be ballaft at her nofe.

To con

S. Ant. Where ftood Belgia, the Netherlands? S. Dro. Oh, Sir, I did not look fo low. 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. And, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of fteel, fhe had transform'd me to a curtal-dog, and made me turn i'th' wheel.

S. Ant. Go, hie thee presently; poft to the road;
And if the wind blow any way from shore,

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:

being ftab'd, and dying of his Wound, was fucceeded by Henry IV. of Navarre, whom he appointed his Succeffor; but whose 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 feems 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, whose Claim his Royal Miftrefs, the Queen, had fent over a Force to establish, and oblige them to acknowledge.


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.

S. Ant. There's none but witches do inhabit here;
And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence:
She, that doth call me husband, even my foul
Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair fifter,
Poffeft with fuch a gentle fovereign grace,
Of fuch inchanting prefence and discourse,
Hath almost made me traitor to myself :
But left myself be guilty of felf-wrong,
I'll stop mine 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; lo, here is the chain;
I thought t' have ta'en you at the Porcupine;
The chain, unfinish'd, made me stay thus long.

S. Ant. What is your will, that I fhall do with this?
Ang. What please yourself, Sir; I have made it for you.
S. Ant. Made it for me, Sir! I bespoke it not.
Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times, you have:
Go home with it, and please your wife withal;
And foon at fupper-time I'll vifit you,

And then receive my mony for the chain.

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

S. Ant. What I fhould think of this, I cannot tell :
But this I think, there's no man is so vain,
That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.
I fee, a man here needs not live by fhifts,
When in the streets he meets fuch golden gifts:
I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio say ;
If any ship put out, then strait away.




SCENE, The Street.

Enter a Merchant, Angelo, and an Officer.



know, fince Pentecoft the fum is due
And fince I have not much importun'd you;
Nor now I had not, but that I am bound
To Perfia, and want gilders for my voyage:
Therefore make prefent fatisfaction;
Or I'll attach you by this officer.

Ang. Ev'n juft the fum, that I do owe to you,
Is growing to me by Antipholis ;

And, in the inftant that I met with you,
He had of me a chain: at five o'clock,
I fhall receive the mony for the fame:
Please you but walk with me down to his house,
I will discharge my bond, and thank you too.

Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, and Dromio of Ephesus, as from the Courtezan's.

Offi. That labour you may fave: fee, where he comes. E. Ant. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow

Among my wife and her confederates,

For locking me out of my doors by day.
But, foft; I fee the goldfmith get thee gone,
Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.

E. Dro. I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy a rope!

[Exit Dromio. E. Ant. A man is well holp up, that trufts to you: I promised your prefence, and the chain :

But neither chain, nor goldsmith, came to me: Belike

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