As a demonstration, I give you Comedy Of Errors, By William Shakespeare

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ACT I

SCENE I. A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace.

Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants

AEGEON

Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall

And by the doom of death end woes and all.

DUKE SOLINUS

Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more;

I am not partial to infringe our laws:

The enmity and discord which of late

Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke

To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,

Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives

Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods,

Excludes all pity from our threatening looks.

For, since the mortal and intestine jars

'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us,

It hath in solemn synods been decreed

Both by the Syracusians and ourselves,

To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more,

If any born at Ephesus be seen

At any Syracusian marts and fairs;

Again: if any Syracusian born

Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies,

His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose,

Unless a thousand marks be levied,

To quit the penalty and to ransom him.

Thy substance, valued at the highest rate,

Cannot amount unto a hundred marks;

Therefore by law thou art condemned to die.

AEGEON

Yet this my comfort: when your words are done,

My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

DUKE SOLINUS

Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause

Why thou departed'st from thy native home

And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus.

AEGEON

A heavier task could not have been imposed

Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable:

Yet, that the world may witness that my end

Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,

I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave.

In Syracusa was I born, and wed

Unto a woman, happy but for me,

And by me, had not our hap been bad.

With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased

By prosperous voyages I often made

To Epidamnum; till my factor's death

And the great care of goods at random left

Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:

From whom my absence was not six months old

Before herself, almost at fainting under

The pleasing punishment that women bear,

Had made provision for her following me

And soon and safe arrived where I was.

There had she not been long, but she became

A joyful mother of two goodly sons;

And, which was strange, the one so like the other,

As could not be distinguish'd but by names.

That very hour, and in the self-same inn,

A meaner woman was delivered

Of such a burden, male twins, both alike:

Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,--

I bought and brought up to attend my sons.

My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,

Made daily motions for our home return:

Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon,

We came aboard.

A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd,

Before the always wind-obeying deep

Gave any tragic instance of our harm:

But longer did we not retain much hope;

For what obscured light the heavens did grant

Did but convey unto our fearful minds

A doubtful warrant of immediate death;

Which though myself would gladly have embraced,

Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,

Weeping before for what she saw must come,

And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,

That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear,

Forced me to seek delays for them and me.

And this it was, for other means was none:

The sailors sought for safety by our boat,

And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us:

My wife, more careful for the latter-born,

Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast,

Such as seafaring men provide for storms;

To him one of the other twins was bound,

Whilst I had been like heedful of the other:

The children thus disposed, my wife and I,

Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd,

Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast;

And floating straight, obedient to the stream,

Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought.

At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,

Dispersed those vapours that offended us;

And by the benefit of his wished light,

The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered

Two ships from far making amain to us,

Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this:

But ere they came,--O, let me say no more!

Gather the sequel by that went before.

DUKE SOLINUS

Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so;

For we may pity, though not pardon thee.

AEGEON

O, had the gods done so, I had not now

Worthily term'd them merciless to us!

For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues,

We were encounterd by a mighty rock;

Which being violently borne upon,

Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst;

So that, in this unjust divorce of us,

Fortune had left to both of us alike

What to delight in, what to sorrow for.

Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened

With lesser weight but not with lesser woe,

Was carried with more speed before the wind;

And in our sight they three were taken up

By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.

At length, another ship had seized on us;

And, knowing whom it was their hap to save,

Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests;

And would have reft the fishers of their prey,

Had not their bark been very slow of sail;

And therefore homeward did they bend their course.

Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss;

That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,

To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.

DUKE SOLINUS

And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,

Do me the favour to dilate at full

What hath befall'n of them and thee till now.

AEGEON

My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,

At eighteen years became inquisitive

After his brother: and importuned me

That his attendant--so his case was like,

Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name--

Might bear him company in the quest of him:

Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see,

I hazarded the loss of whom I loved.

Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece,

Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia,

And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus;

Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought

Or that or any place that harbours men.

But here must end the story of my life;

And happy were I in my timely death,

Could all my travels warrant me they live.

DUKE SOLINUS

Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd

To bear the extremity of dire mishap!

Now, trust me, were it not against our laws,

Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,

Which princes, would they, may not disannul,

My soul would sue as advocate for thee.

But, though thou art adjudged to the death

And passed sentence may not be recall'd

But to our honour's great disparagement,

Yet I will favour thee in what I can.

Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day

To seek thy life by beneficial help:

Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus;

Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum,

And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die.

Gaoler, take him to thy custody.

Gaoler

I will, my lord.

AEGEON

Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend,

But to procrastinate his lifeless end.

Exeunt

SCENE II. The Mart.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant

First Merchant

Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum,

Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate.

This very day a Syracusian merchant

Is apprehended for arrival here;

And not being able to buy out his life

According to the statute of the town,

Dies ere the weary sun set in the west.

There is your money that I had to keep.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host,

And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee.

Within this hour it will be dinner-time:

Till that, I'll view the manners of the town,

Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,

And then return and sleep within mine inn,

For with long travel I am stiff and weary.

Get thee away.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Many a man would take you at your word,

And go indeed, having so good a mean.

Exit

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

A trusty villain, sir, that very oft,

When I am dull with care and melancholy,

Lightens my humour with his merry jests.

What, will you walk with me about the town,

And then go to my inn and dine with me?

First Merchant

I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,

Of whom I hope to make much benefit;

I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,

Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart

And afterward consort you till bed-time:

My present business calls me from you now.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Farewell till then: I will go lose myself

And wander up and down to view the city.

First Merchant

Sir, I commend you to your own content.

Exit

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

He that commends me to mine own content

Commends me to the thing I cannot get.

I to the world am like a drop of water

That in the ocean seeks another drop,

Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,

Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:

So I, to find a mother and a brother,

In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

Enter DROMIO of Ephesus

Here comes the almanac of my true date.

What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late:

The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit,

The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;

My mistress made it one upon my cheek:

She is so hot because the meat is cold;

The meat is cold because you come not home;

You come not home because you have no stomach;

You have no stomach having broke your fast;

But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray

Are penitent for your default to-day.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray:

Where have you left the money that I gave you?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last

To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper?

The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

I am not in a sportive humour now:

Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?

We being strangers here, how darest thou trust

So great a charge from thine own custody?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner:

I from my mistress come to you in post;

If I return, I shall be post indeed,

For she will score your fault upon my pate.

Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock,

And strike you home without a messenger.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season;

Reserve them till a merrier hour than this.

Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness,

And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

My charge was but to fetch you from the mart

Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner:

My mistress and her sister stays for you.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

In what safe place you have bestow'd my money,

Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours

That stands on tricks when I am undisposed:

Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

I have some marks of yours upon my pate,

Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders,

But not a thousand marks between you both.

If I should pay your worship those again,

Perchance you will not bear them patiently.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;

She that doth fast till you come home to dinner,

And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,

Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands!

Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.

Exit

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Upon my life, by some device or other

The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.

They say this town is full of cozenage,

As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,

Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind,

Soul-killing witches that deform the body,

Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,

And many such-like liberties of sin:

If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.

I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave:

I greatly fear my money is not safe.

Exit

ACT II

SCENE I. The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA

ADRIANA

Neither my husband nor the slave return'd,

That in such haste I sent to seek his master!

Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

LUCIANA

Perhaps some merchant hath invited him,

And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner.

Good sister, let us dine and never fret:

A man is master of his liberty:

Time is their master, and, when they see time,

They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister.

ADRIANA

Why should their liberty than ours be more?

LUCIANA

Because their business still lies out o' door.

ADRIANA

Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.

LUCIANA

O, know he is the bridle of your will.

ADRIANA

There's none but asses will be bridled so.

LUCIANA

Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe.

There's nothing situate under heaven's eye

But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky:

The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,

Are their males' subjects and at their controls:

Men, more divine, the masters of all these,

Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas,

Indued with intellectual sense and souls,

Of more preeminence than fish and fowls,

Are masters to their females, and their lords:

Then let your will attend on their accords.

ADRIANA

This servitude makes you to keep unwed.

LUCIANA

Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.

ADRIANA

But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway.

LUCIANA

Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey.

ADRIANA

How if your husband start some other where?

LUCIANA

Till he come home again, I would forbear.

ADRIANA

Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause;

They can be meek that have no other cause.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,

We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;

But were we burdened with like weight of pain,

As much or more would we ourselves complain:

So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,

With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me,

But, if thou live to see like right bereft,

This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.

LUCIANA

Well, I will marry one day, but to try.

Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh.

Enter DROMIO of Ephesus

ADRIANA

Say, is your tardy master now at hand?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears

can witness.

ADRIANA

Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear:

Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.

LUCIANA

Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his

blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce

understand them.

ADRIANA

But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he

hath great care to please his wife.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.

ADRIANA

Horn-mad, thou villain!

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

I mean not cuckold-mad;

But, sure, he is stark mad.

When I desired him to come home to dinner,

He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold:

Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he;

'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he:

'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he.

'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?'

'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he:

'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress!

I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!'

LUCIANA

Quoth who?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Quoth my master:

'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.'

So that my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders;

For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.

ADRIANA

Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Go back again, and be new beaten home?

For God's sake, send some other messenger.

ADRIANA

Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

And he will bless that cross with other beating:

Between you I shall have a holy head.

ADRIANA

Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Am I so round with you as you with me,

That like a football you do spurn me thus?

You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither:

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

Exit

LUCIANA

Fie, how impatience loureth in your face!

ADRIANA

His company must do his minions grace,

Whilst I at home starve for a merry look.

Hath homely age the alluring beauty took

From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it:

Are my 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 my state:

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.

LUCIANA

Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence!

ADRIANA

Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense.

I know his eye doth homage otherwhere,

Or else what lets it but he would be here?

Sister, you know he promised me a chain;

Would that alone, alone he would detain,

So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!

I see the jewel best enamelled

Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still,

That others touch, and often touching will

Wear gold: and no man that hath a name,

By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,

I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.

LUCIANA

How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!

Exeunt

SCENE II. A public place.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

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 received no gold?

Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?

My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,

That thus so madly thou didst answer me?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

What answer, sir? when spake I such a word?

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Even now, even here, not half an hour since.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I did not see you since you sent me hence,

Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt,

And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner;

For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I am glad to see you in this merry vein:

What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?

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

Beating him

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest:

Upon what bargain do you give it me?

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

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 demeanor to my looks,

Or I will beat this method in your sconce.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I

had rather have it a head: an you use these blows

long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce

it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders.

But, I pray, sir why am I beaten?

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Dost thou not know?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Shall I tell you why?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath

a wherefore.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore--

For urging it the second time to me.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,

When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme

nor reason?

Well, sir, I thank you.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Thank me, sir, for what?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for

something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

In good time, sir; what's that?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Basting.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Your reason?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another

dry basting.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a

time for all things.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

By what rule, sir?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald

pate of father Time himself.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Let's hear it.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

There's no time for a man to recover his hair that

grows bald by nature.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

May he not do it by fine and recovery?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the

lost hair of another man.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is,

so plentiful an excrement?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts;

and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth

it in a kind of jollity.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

For what reason?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

For two; and sound ones too.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Nay, not sound, I pray you.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Sure ones, then.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Certain ones then.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Name them.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

The one, to save the money that he spends in

trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not

drop in his porridge.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

You would all this time have proved there is no

time for all things.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair

lost by nature.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

But your reason was not substantial, why there is no

time to recover.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore

to the world's end will have bald followers.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion:

But, soft! who wafts us yonder?

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA

ADRIANA

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 unurged wouldst vow

That never words were music to thine ear,

That never object pleasing in thine eye,

That never touch well welcome to thy hand,

That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste,

Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee.

How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,

That thou art thus 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 mayest thou fall

A drop of water in the breaking gulf,

And take unmingled that same drop again,

Without addition or diminishing,

As take from me thyself and not me too.

How dearly would it touch me to the quick,

Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious

And that this body, consecrate to thee,

By ruffian lust should be contaminate!

Wouldst 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

And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?

I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it.

I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;

My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:

For if we too be one and thou play false,

I do digest the poison of thy flesh,

Being strumpeted by thy contagion.

Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed;

I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not:

In Ephesus I am but two hours old,

As strange unto your town as to your talk;

Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,

Want wit in all one word to understand.

LUCIANA

Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you!

When were you wont to use my sister thus?

She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

By Dromio?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

By me?

ADRIANA

By thee; and this thou didst return from him,

That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows,

Denied my house for his, me for his wife.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?

What is the course and drift of your compact?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I, sir? I never saw her till this time.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Villain, thou liest; for even her very words

Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I never spake with her in all my life.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

How can she thus then call us by our names,

Unless it be by inspiration.

ADRIANA

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,

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, brier, or idle moss;

Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion

Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

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.

LUCIANA

Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner.

This is the fairy land: O spite of spites!

We talk with goblins, owls and sprites:

If we obey them not, this will ensue,

They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.

LUCIANA

Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not?

Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I am transformed, master, am I not?

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

I think thou art in mind, and so am I.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Thou hast thine own form.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

No, I am an ape.

LUCIANA

If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass.

'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be

But I should know her as well as she knows me.

ADRIANA

Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,

To put the finger in the eye and weep,

Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn.

Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate.

Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day

And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.

Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,

Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.

Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?

Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised?

Known unto these, and to myself disguised!

I'll say as they say and persever so,

And in this mist at all adventures go.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Master, shall I be porter at the gate?

ADRIANA

Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.

LUCIANA

Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.

Exeunt

ACT III

SCENE I. Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all;

My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours:

Say that I linger'd with you at your shop

To see the making of her carcanet,

And that to-morrow you will bring it home.

But here's a villain that would face me down

He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,

And charged him with a thousand marks in gold,

And that I did deny my wife and house.

Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know;

That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show:

If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,

Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

I think thou art an ass.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Marry, so it doth appear

By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear.

I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass,

You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer

May answer my good will and your good welcome here.

BALTHAZAR

I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your

welcome dear.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish,

A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish.

BALTHAZAR

Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words.

BALTHAZAR

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest:

But though my cates be mean, take them in good part;

Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.

But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn!

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb,

idiot, patch!

Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch.

Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st

for such store,

When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

What patch is made our porter? My master stays in

the street.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he

catch cold on's feet.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Who talks within there? ho, open the door!

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell

me wherefore.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] Nor to-day here you must not; come again

when you may.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] The porter for this time, sir, and my name

is Dromio.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name.

The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.

If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place,

Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy

name for an ass.

LUCE

[Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those

at the gate?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Let my master in, Luce.

LUCE

[Within] Faith, no; he comes too late;

And so tell your master.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

O Lord, I must laugh!

Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff?

LUCE

[Within] Have at you with another; that's--When?

can you tell?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast

answered him well.

ANTIPHOLUS

Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope?

OF EPHESUS

LUCE

[Within] I thought to have asked you.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] And you said no.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Thou baggage, let me in.

LUCE

[Within] Can you tell for whose sake?

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Master, knock the door hard.

LUCE

[Within] Let him knock till it ache.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down.

LUCE

[Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town?

ADRIANA

[Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all

this noise?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with

unruly boys.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Are you there, wife? you might have come before.

ADRIANA

[Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore.

ANGELO

Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would

fain have either.

BALTHAZAR

In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.

Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold:

It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your

knave's pate.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind,

Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon

thee, hind!

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee,

let me in.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

[Within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow.

DROMIO OF EPHESUS

A crow without feather? Master, mean you so?

For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather;

If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow.

BALTHAZAR

Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so!

Herein you war against your reputation

And draw within the compass of suspect

The unviolated honour of your wife.

Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom,

Her sober virtue, years and modesty,

Plead on her part some cause to you unknown:

And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse

Why at this time the doors are made against you.

Be ruled by me: depart in patience,

And let us to the Tiger all to dinner,

And about evening come yourself alone

To know the reason of this strange restraint.

If by strong hand you offer to break in

Now in the stirring passage of the day,

A vulgar comment will be made of it,

And that supposed by the common rout

Against your yet ungalled estimation

That may with foul intrusion enter in

And dwell upon your grave when you are dead;

For slander lives upon succession,

For ever housed where it gets possession.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet,

And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.

I know a wench of excellent discourse,

Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle:

There will we dine. This woman that I mean,

My wife--but, I protest, without desert--

Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal:

To her will we to dinner.

To Angelo

Get you home

And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made:

Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine;

For there's the house: that chain will I bestow--

Be it for nothing but to spite my wife--

Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste.

Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,

I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me.

ANGELO

I'll meet you at that place some hour hence.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF EPHESUS

Do so. This jest shall cost me some expense.

Exeunt

SCENE II. The same.

Enter LUCIANA and ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse

LUCIANA

And may it be that you have quite forgot

A husband's office? shall, Antipholus.

Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot?

Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous?

If you did wed my sister for her wealth,

Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness:

Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth;

Muffle your false love with some show of blindness:

Let not my sister read it in your eye;

Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;

Look sweet, be fair, become disloyalty;

Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger;

Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted;

Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint;

Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?

What simple thief brags of his own attaint?

'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed

And let her read it in thy looks at board:

Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed;

Ill d eeds are doubled with an evil word.

Alas, poor women! make us but believe,

Being compact of credit, that you love us;

Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve;

We in your motion turn and you may move us.

Then, gentle brother, get you in again;

Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife:

'Tis holy sport to be a little vain,

When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Sweet mistress--what your name is else, I know not,

Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine,--

Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not

Than our earth's wonder, more than earth divine.

Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;

Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit,

Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,

The folded meaning of your words' deceit.

Against my soul's pure truth why labour you

To make it wander in an unknown field?

Are you a god? would you create me new?

Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield.

But if that I am I, then well I know

Your weeping sister is no wife of mine,

Nor to her bed no homage do I owe

Far more, far more to you do I decline.

O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,

To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears:

Sing, siren, for thyself and I will dote:

Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,

And as a bed I'll take them and there lie,

And in that glorious supposition think

He gains by death that hath such means to die:

Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink!

LUCIANA

What, are you mad, that you do reason so?

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.

LUCIANA

It is a fault that springeth from your eye.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.

LUCIANA

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

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.

LUCIANA

Why call you me love? call my sister so.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Thy sister's sister.

LUCIANA

That's my sister.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

No;

It is thyself, mine own self's better part,

Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,

My food, my fortune and my sweet hope's aim,

My sole earth's heaven and my heaven's claim.

LUCIANA

All this my sister is, or else should be.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee.

Thee will I love and with thee lead my life:

Thou hast no husband yet nor I no wife.

Give me thy hand.

LUCIANA

O, soft, air! hold you still:

I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.

Exit

Enter DROMIO of Syracuse

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Why, how now, Dromio! where runn'st thou so fast?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I your man?

am I myself?

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

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

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I am an ass, I am a woman's man and besides myself.

ANTIPHOLUS

What woman's man? and how besides thyself? besides thyself?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman; one

that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What claim lays she to thee?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry sir, such claim as you would lay to your

horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I

being a beast, she would have me; but that she,

being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What is she?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may

not speak of without he say 'Sir-reverence.' I have

but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a

wondrous fat marriage.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

How dost thou mean a fat marriage?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry, sir, she's the kitchen wench and 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. I

warrant, her rags and the tallow in them will burn a

Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday,

she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What complexion is she of?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing half so

clean kept: for why, she sweats; a man may go over

shoes in the grime of it.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

That's a fault that water will mend.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What's her name?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Nell, sir; but her name and three quarters, that's

an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from

hip to hip.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Then she bears some breadth?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip:

she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out

countries in her.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

In what part of her body stands Ireland?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Marry, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Where Scotland?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Where France?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war

against her heir.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Where England?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no

whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin,

by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Where Spain?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Where America, the Indies?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Oh, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellished with

rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich

aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole

armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this

drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me

Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what

privy marks I had about me, as, the mark of my

shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my

left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch:

And, I think, if my breast had not been made of

faith and my heart of steel,

She had transform'd me to a curtal dog and made

me turn i' the wheel.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Go hie thee presently, post to the road:

An 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.

If every one knows us and we know none,

'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

As from a bear a man would run for life,

So fly I from her that would be my wife.

Exit

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

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 soul

Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister,

Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,

Of such enchanting presence and discourse,

Hath almost made me traitor to myself:

But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,

I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.

Enter ANGELO with the chain

ANGELO

Master Antipholus,--

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Ay, that's my name.

ANGELO

I know it well, sir, lo, here is the chain.

I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine:

The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What is your will that I shall do with this?

ANGELO

What please yourself, sir: I have made it for you.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not.

ANGELO

Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have.

Go home with it and please your wife withal;

And soon at supper-time I'll visit you

And then receive my money for the chain.

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

I pray you, sir, receive the money now,

For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more.

ANGELO

You are a merry man, sir: fare you well.

Exit

ANTIPHOLUS

OF SYRACUSE

What I should 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 see a man here needs not live by shifts,

When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.

I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay

If any ship put out, then straight away.

Exit