Adr. So glides away

Thy hasty love, (O apt illusion !)

And mocks my constant and attentive care,
That seeks, in vain, to keep it.

Luc. Dearest brother,

Why turn on me your eyes? Regard my sister,
Who with such earnest suit, solicits you
To heal her wounded peace.

Adr. It cannot be,

But that some phrensy hath possess'd his mind,
Else could he not, with cold indifference, hear
His Adriana pleading. Music's voice,
O'er such entranced dispositions,

Hath oft a magic power, and can recall

The wand'ring faculties. Good cousin, Hermia, Assay those melting strains, wherewith, thou told'st me, Forsaken Julia labour'd to retrieve

Lysander's truant heart.

SONG. HERMIA.

Stray not to those distant plains;
From thy comfort do not rove,
Tarry in these peaceful glens,;
Tread the downy paths of love:
Is not this sequester'd shade
Richer than the proud alcove?
Tarry in this beauteous glade,
Tarry here, with me and love.

Listen to the woodlark's note,
Listen to the cooing dove,

Hark! the throstle's mellow throat,
All uniting, carol love :

See the limpid brooks around,

Winding through the varied grove ;

This is passion's fairy ground,

Tarry here, with me and love.

Adr. Sister, there is some magic in thine eye,
That hath infected his-Perchance to thee,
He may unfold the source of his distemp❜rature:
For me, no longer will I sue for that,
My right may claim; loose infidelity

And lawless passion hath estrang'd his soul.
Yet think, my husband, couldst thou bear the like?
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious!

Wouldst thou not scoff at me, and spurn me from thee?

Or hurl the name of husband in my face,

And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot brow?
Yea, from my false hand, cut the wedding ring,
And break it with a deep divorcing vow?

I know thou wouldst, and therefore, see, thou do it;
For if we two be one, and thou play false,

I do digest the poison of thy crimes.

Preserve then, equal league with the fair bed;
Keep me unstain'd, thou, undishonour'd live.

[Exit, with HERMIA.

Luc. And may it be, that you have quite forgot A husband's office? Shall, Antipholis, Ev'n in the spring of love, thy love passion fade? If you did wed my sister for her wealth,

Then, for her wealth's sake, use her with more kind

ness;

Or, if you like elsewhere, do it in secret;
Let not my sister read it in your eye;
Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;
Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty,
Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger.

Ant. of Syr. Now, by the air we breathe, I vow, bright dame,

My senses are all smother'd

up in wonder;

All but my sight-with that, methinks, I view

An angel pleading; and, while thus delighted,

I

may peruse the graces of that brow,

I will not wish the mystery unfolded,

But to your chidings pay submissive awe,
As to an holy mandate.-Speak, speak on.

Luc. Be secret false-why need she be acquainted? What simple thief brags of his own bad deeds? "Tis double wrong to truant with your bed, And let her read it in your looks at board. Ill deeds are doubled by an evil word. Alas, poor women!-make us but believe (Being compast of credit) that you love, We, in your motions turn, are led by you, And easily accord to what we wish. Then, gentle brother, get you in again:

And call my sister, wife-comfort her-cheer her→→→ 'Tis holy sport to be a little false,

When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.
Ant. of Syr. Sweet mistress, let me call you by that

name,

Teach me, oh teach me how to think, and answer!
Lay open to my shallow, gross conceit,
The folded meaning of your sugar'd words.
Against my soul's pure truth, why labour you,
To make it wander in an unknown path?
Are you a goddess? would you new create me?
Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield.
But if I am Antipholis, I swear,

Your weeping sister is no wife to me.
Oh, no! to you alone my soul inclines;

[Kneels.

Then train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy voice,
To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears!
Sing, syren, for thyself, and I will doat!
Spread o'er the silver waves thy glossy locks,
And as a bed I'll take thee, there I'll lie,
And, in that glorious supposition, think
He gains by death, that hath such means to die.
Luc. What, are you mad, that you do reason thus?
Ant. of Syr. Not mad-enchanted; how, I do not

know.

1

Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eye. Ant. of Syr. For gazing on your dazzling beams, fair sun.

Luc. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight.

Ant. of Syr. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on darkness.

Luc. Why call you me love? call my sister so.. Ant. of Syr. Thy sister's sister.

Luc. That's my sister.

Ant. of Syr. No;

It is thyself, my own self's better half,

My eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim.
Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be.

Ant. of Syr. Call thyself sister, sweet, for thee I

mean:

Thee will I love, with thee would spend my days.
Give me thy hand.

Luc. Oh, soft, sir, hold you still.

I'll seek my sister, to get her consent;
If she approve, I shall accord, no doubt.

[Exit.

Ant. of Syr. O subtle power! O soil too capable! Scarce had her sun of beauty warm'd my heart, When the gay flower of love, disclosing fragrance, Sprung up at once, and blossom'd to perfection, Ere well the bud was seen. Why, how now, Dromio?

Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.

Where runn'st thou so fast?

Dro. of Syr. Do you know me, sir? Am I Dromio? Am I your man? Am I myself?

Ant. of Syr. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself.

Dro. of Syr. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and beside myself.

Ant. of Syr. What woman's man? and how beside thyself?

Dro. of Syr. Marry, sir, beside myself, I am due to a woman; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.

Ant. of Syr. What claim lays she to thee?

Dro. of Syr. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to your horse.

Ant. of Syr. What is she?

Dro. of Syr. A very reverend body; and though I have but lean luck in the match, yet she is a wondrous fat marriage. Sir, she's the kitchen wench, all grease; 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.-To conclude; this drudge laid claim to me, called me Dromio, swore I was betrothed to her, told me what secret marks I had about me; as, the marks on my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her, as a witchand I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she would have transformed me to a cur-tail dog, and made me turn in the wheel.

Ant. of Syr. Sure, none but witches can inhabit here,

And therefore 'tis high time that we were hence.
Go, hie thee presently, post 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.

[Exit.

Dro. of Syr. As from a bear, a man would run for

life,

So I from her, that swears she is my wife.

[Exit.