Her part Was car Andia fraster Solinus, duke of Ephesus. Angelo, a goldsmith. Aegeon, a merchant of Syracuse. A Merchant, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse. Twin brothers, and Pinch, a schoolmaster, and a conjurer. ANTIPholus of Ephesus, sons to Aegeon and Aemilia, wise to Aegeon, an abbess at Ephesus. ANTIPHOLưs of Syracuse, Aemilia, but unknown Adriana, wifeto Antipholus of Ephesus. to each other. Luciana, her sister. DRomio of Ephesus, Twin brothers, and Luce, her servant. attendants on the two A Courtezan. Dronio of Syracuse, Antipholus's. Gaoler, officers, and other Attendants. BALTHAZAR, a merchant. SCENE, - Ephesus. A C T I. And soon, and safe, arrived, where I was. There she had not been long, but she became As could not be distinguish'd but by names. Duke. Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more! of such a burden, male twins, both alike. Those, for their parents were exceeding poor, I bought, and brought up to attend my sons, 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 embrac'd, 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, Forc'd 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. Such as sea-faring men provide for stornis; Ďuke. Well, Syracusan, say, in brief, the cause Whilst I had been like heedful of the other. Fixing our eyes on whom our care was hx'd, And floating straight, obedient to the stream, end Were carried towards Corinth, as we thought. Dispers'd those vapours that offended us, And, by the benefit of his wish'd light, The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered Two ships from far making amain to us, But ere they came, 0, let me say no more! Gather the sequel by that went before! Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so! Worthily term’d them merciless to us! We were encounter'd by a mighty rock; Get thee away! Act I.] 261 Which being violently borne upon, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, For with long travel I am stiff and weary. Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your word, Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened And goindeed, having so good a mean. Exit Dromio S. With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe, Ant. S. A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, Was carried with more speed before the wind; When I am dull with care and melancholy, And in our sight they three were taken up Lightens my humour with his merry jests. By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. What, will you walk with me about the towy, And then go to my inn, and dine with me? Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart, Ant. S. Farewell till then! I will go lose myself, To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. And wander up and down, to view the city. Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. Do me the favour, to dilate at full (Exit Merchant. What hath befall’n of them, and thee, till now! Ant. S. He, that commends me to mine own content, , dege. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, Commends me to the thing, I cannot get. At eighteen years became inquisitive I to the world am like a drop of water, After his brother, and impórtun’d me, That in the ocean seeks another drop, That his attendant, (for his case was like, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Reft of his brother, but retain’d his name,) Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself. Might bear him company in the quest of him: Sol, to find a mother, and a brother, Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. I hazarded the loss of whom I lov’d. Enter Dromio of Ephesus. Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, Here comes the almanac of my true date. Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, What now? How chance, thou art return'd so soon? And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; Dro. E. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought, late: Or that, or any place that harbours men. The capon barns, the pig falls from the spit ; But here must end the story of my life, The clock has strucken twelve upon the bell, My mistress made it one upon my cheek: You come pot home, because you have no stomach; Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, You have no stomach, having broke your fast; But we, that know what'tis to fast and pray, Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir! tell me this, I pray: But though thou art adjudged to the death, Where have you left the money, that I gave you? And passed sentence may not be recallid, Dro. E, 0, -sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last, But to our honour's great disparagement, To pay the saddler for my mistress'crupper? Yet will I favour thee in what I can. The saddler had it, sir, I kept it not. Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day, Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: To seek thy help by beneficial help. and dally not, where is the money? Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, So great a charge from thine own custody? And live; if not, then thou art doom'd to die. Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner: Gaoler, take him to thy custody ! I from my mistress come to you in post; Gaol. I will, my lord. If I return, I shall be postindeed; dege. Hopeless, and helpless, doth Aegeon wend, For she will score your fault npon my pate. But to procrastinate his lifeless end. (Exeunt. Methinks, yonr inaw, like mine, should be your clock, And strike you home without a messenger. Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of Reserve them till a merrier hour than this! Mer. Therefore, give out, you are of Epidamnum, Where is the gold, I gave in charge to thee? Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. Dro. E. To me, sir? why you gave no gold to me. This very day, a Syracusad merchant Ant. S. Come on, sir knave, have done your fooIs apprehended for arrival here, lishness, And not being able to buy out his life, And tell me, how thou hast dispos'd thy charge. According to the statute of the town, Dro. E. My charge was but to fetch you from the Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner; Ant. 8. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, In what safe place you have bestow'd my money; Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, Tell me, mart your hands! That stands on tricks, when I am undispos’d: So thou, that hast no nnkind mate to grieve thee, Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate, But, if thou live to seelike right bereft, Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try; Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Perchance, you will not bear them patiently. Enter Dronio of Ephesus. Dro. E. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him ? know'st thou his mind? Ani. š. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well my heels. feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could (Exit Dro. E. scarce understand them. Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other, Adr. But say, I pr’ythee, is he coming home? The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. It seems, he hath great c-re to please his wife. They say, this town is full of cozenage; Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. Adr. llorn-mad, thou villain? stark mad; Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, And many such like liberties of sin. leash'd me for a thousand marks in gold : If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. 'Tis dinner--time, quothl; My gold, quoth he: I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave; Your meat do:h burn, quoth I; My golu, quoth he: I greatly fear, my money is not safe. (Exit. 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! Luc. Quoth who? I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress;- So that my errand, due unto my tongue, Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home! Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? Time is their master; and, when they see time, For God's sake, send some other messenger! They'll go, or come. If so, be patient, sister! Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy head across. Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other beatLuc. Because their business still lies out o’door. 'ing: Adr. Look, when I serve him. so, he takes itill. Between you I shall have a holy head. Luc. O, know, he is the bridle of your will. Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy master home! Adr. There's none, but asses, will be bridled so Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. That like a football you do spurn me thus? There's nothing, situate under heaven's eye, You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither : But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: If Ilast in this service, you must case me in leather. The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, (Exit. Are their males' subject, and at their controls: Luc. Fye, how impatience lowreth in your face! Men, more divine, the masters of all these, Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Lords of the wide world, and wild watry scas, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. : Indued with intellectual sense and souls, Hath homely age the alluring beauty took of more pre-eminence, than fish and fowls, From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: Are masters to their females, and their lords: Are my discourses dull? barren my wit ? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, What ruins are in me, that can be found By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground Adr. Patience, unmov’d, no marvelthough sho pause; But, too nnruly deer, he breaks the pale, And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. Luc. Self-harming jealousy!- fye, beat it hence! Webid be quiet, when we hear it cry; Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, I kuow his eve doth homage otherwhere; As much, or more, we should ourselves complain : Or else, what lets it but he would be here? cause. W Sister, you know, he promis'd me a chain; Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, to give you noWould that alone, alone he would detain, thing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner time? So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! Dro. S. No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. Ant. S. In good time, sir, what's that? Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. Ant. S. Your reason ? Dro. S. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time! There's [Exeunt. a time for all things. SCENE II. — The same. Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plair, as the plain bald pate of father Time himself. Ant. S. Let's hear it. Dro. 8. There's no time for a man to recover his Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? the lost hair of another man. beasts: and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he Dro. S. Fortwo; and sound ones too. [Beating him. Dro. S. Sure ones, then. Dro. S. Certain ones then. Ant. S. Name them! Dro. S. The one, to save the money, that he spends in tiring: the other, that at dinner they should not Your sauciness will jest npon my love, drop in his porridge. Ant. 8. You would all this time hrave proved, there recover hair lost by nature. Ant. S. Bat your reason was not substantial, why Or I will beat this method in your sconce. there is no time to recover. Enter ADRIANA and Luciaxa. Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange, and frown! I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. That never words were music to thine ear, Ant. S. Why, first for flouting me; and then, That never object pleasing in thine eye, wherefore, That never touch well-welcome to thy hand, That never meat sweet-savour’d in thy taste, How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it, nor reason? Well, sir, I thank you. Thyself I call it, being strange to me, That, undividable, incorporate, Am better, than thy dear self's bet er part. For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulph, Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. And take unmingled thence that drop again, Dro. S. No, I am an ape. Without addition, or diminishing, Luc. If thou art chang'd to anght, 'tis to an ass. Dro. S. 'Tis true; sherides me, and I long for grass, But I should know her, as well as she knows me. Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep, Come, sir, to dinner! Dromio, keep the gate! - Ilusband, i'll dine above with you to-day, Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, Come, sister:- Dromio, play the porter well ! Ant, S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? For, if we two be one, and thou play false, Sleeping, or waking? mad, or well-advis'd ? I do digest the poison of thy fleshi, Known unto these, and to myself disguis’d! Being strumpeted by thy contagion. I'll say as they say, and persever so, Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate? Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. (Exeunt. А ст III. SCENEI. - The same. She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. Enter ANTIPIOLUS of Ephesus, Dromo of Ephesus, Ant. S. By Dromio? ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR. Dro. S. By nic? Ant. E. Good signior Augelo, you must excu cuseus all; Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from him,-- My wife is shrewish, when I keep not hours : That he did bullet thee, and, in his blows, Say, that Iinger'd with youat your shop, To see the making of her carkanet, And that I did deny my wife and house:- know; Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, show: Abctting him to thwart me in my mood ? If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave, Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt, were ink, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt! Your own handwriting would tell you, what I think. Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: Ant. E. I think, thou art an ass. Dro. E. Marry, so it doth appear You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. Ant. E. You are sad, signior Balthazar: 'pray God, Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion our cheer Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion. Mayanswer my good will,and your good welcome here. Ant. S. To me she speaks; she moves me for her Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your theme: come dear. What, was I married to her in my dream? Ant. I, O, signior Balthazar, either at flesh, or fish, Or sleep I now, and think, I hear all this? A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish, What error drives our eyes and ears amiss ? Bul. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl Until I know this sure uncertainty, affords. I'll entertain the oiler'd fallacy. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's no- feast. guest: Luc. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not? Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. wel |