The Comedy of Errors (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
The Comedie of Errors.
1
Actus primus, Scena prima.
¶
Enter the Duke of Ephesus, with the Merchant of Siracusa,
¶ Iaylor, and other attendants.
5Proceed Solinus to procure my fall,
¶And by the doome of death end woes and all.
¶I am not partiall to infringe our Lawes;
¶The enmity and discord which of late
10Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke,
¶To Merchants our well-dealing Countrimen,
¶Who wanting gilders to redeeme their liues,
¶Excludes all pitty from our threatning lookes:
¶Twixt thy seditious Countrimen and vs,
¶It hath in solemne Synodes beene decreed,
¶To admit no trafficke to our aduerse townes:
20Nay more, if any borne at Ephesus
¶Againe, if any Siracusian borne
¶Come to the Bay of Ephesus, he dies:
¶To quit the penalty, and to ransome him:
¶Cannot amount vnto a hundred Markes,
¶Therefore by Law thou art condemn'd to die.
30Mer. Yet this my comfort, when your words are done,
¶My woes end likewise with the euening Sonne.
¶Why thou departedst from thy natiue home?
¶Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
¶Ile vtter what my sorrow giues me leaue.
40In Syracusa was I borne, and wedde
¶Vnto a woman, happy but for me,
¶And by me; had not our hap beene bad:
¶With her I liu'd in ioy, our wealth increast
¶By prosperous voyages I often made
45To Epidamium, till my factors death,
¶And he great care of goods at randone left,
¶Had made prouision for her following me,
¶A ioyfull mother of two goodly sonnes:
¶A meane woman was deliuered
¶Of such a burthen Male, twins both alike:
60Those, for their parents were exceeding poore,
¶I bought, and brought vp to attend my sonnes.
¶My wife, not meanely prowd of two such boyes,
¶Made daily motions for our home returne:
¶Vnwilling I agreed, alas, too soone wee came aboord.
65A league from Epidamium had we saild
¶Before the alwaies winde-obeying deepe
¶Gaue any Tragicke Instance of our harme:
¶But longer did we not retaine much hope;
¶For what obscured light the heauens did grant,
70Did but conuay vnto our fearefull mindes
¶A doubtfull warrant of immediate death,
¶Which though my selfe would gladly haue imbrac'd,
75And pitteous playnings of the prettie babes
¶That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to feare,
¶And this it was: (for other meanes was none)
¶My wife, more carefull for the latter borne,
¶To him one of the other twins was bound,
85Whil'st I had beene like heedfull of the other.
¶The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I,
¶Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixt,
90Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought.
¶At length the sonne gazing vpon the earth,
¶And by the benefit of his wished light
95Two shippes from farre, making amaine to vs:
¶Of Corinth that, of Epidarus this,
¶But ere they came, oh let me say no more,
¶Gather the sequell by that went before.
100For we may pitty, though not pardon thee.
¶For ere the ships could meet by twice fiue leagues,
¶We were encountred by a mighty rocke,
105Which being violently borne vp,
¶So that in this vniust diuorce of vs,
¶Fortune had left to both of vs alike,
¶What to delight in, what to sorrow for,
¶Was carried with more speed before the winde,
¶And in our sight they three were taken vp
¶By Fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.
¶And knowing whom it was their hap to saue,
¶And would haue reft the Fishers of their prey,
120And therefore homeward did they bend their course.
¶That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
125Doe me the fauour to dilate at full,
¶What haue befalne of them and they till now.
¶At eighteene yeeres became inquisitiue
¶After his brother; and importun'd me
¶Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name,
¶Might beare him company in the quest of him:
¶Roming cleane through the bounds of Asia,
¶Or that, or any place that harbours men:
¶And happy were I in my timelie death,
¶Could all my trauells warrant me they liue.
¶To beare the extremitie of dire mishap:
¶Against my Crowne, my oath, my dignity,
¶Which Princes would they may not disanull,
¶But though thou art adiudged to the death,
¶But to our honours great disparagement:
¶Yet will I fauour thee in what I can;
¶Therefore Marchant, Ile limit thee this day
¶To seeke thy helpe by beneficiall helpe,
¶Beg thou, or borrow, to make vp the summe,
¶And liue: if no, then thou art doom'd to die:
¶Iaylor, take him to thy custodie.
¶Iaylor. I will my Lord.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Antipholis Erotes, a Marchant, and Dromio.
¶Mer. Therefore giue out you are of Epidamium,
165This very day a Syracusian Marchant
¶Is apprehended for a riuall here,
¶And not being able to buy out his life,
¶According to the statute of the towne,
170There is your monie that I had to keepe.
¶And stay there Dromio, till I come to thee;
¶Within this houre it will be dinner time,
¶Till that Ile view the manners of the towne,
175Peruse the traders, gaze vpon the buildings,
¶And then returne and sleepe within mine Inne,
¶For with long trauaile I am stiffe and wearie.
¶Get thee away.
¶Dro. Many a man would take you at your word,
180And goe indeede, hauing so good a meane.
¶
Exit Dromio.
¶When I am dull with care and melancholly,
¶Lightens my humour with his merry iests:
185What will you walke with me about the towne,
¶And then goe to my Inne and dine with me?
¶Of whom I hope to make much benefit:
¶I craue your pardon, soone at fiue a clocke,
190Please you, Ile meete with you vpon the Mart,
¶And afterward consort you till bed time:
¶And wander vp and downe to view the Citie.
195E.Mar. Sir, I commend you to your owne content.
¶
Exeunt.
¶Ant. He that commends me to mine owne content,
¶Commends me to the thing I cannot get:
¶I to the world am like a drop of water,
200That in the Ocean seekes another drop,
¶Who falling there to finde his fellow forth,
¶So I, to finde a Mother and a Brother,
205
Enter Dromio of Ephesus.
¶Here comes the almanacke of my true date:
¶The Capon burnes, the Pig fals from the spit;
210The clocke hath strucken twelue vpon the bell:
¶My Mistris made it one vpon my cheeke:
¶The meate is colde, because you come not home:
¶But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray,
¶Are penitent for your default to day.
¶Where haue you left the mony that I gaue you.
¶To pay the Sadler for my Mistris crupper:
¶The Sadler had it Sir, I kept it not.
¶Tell me, and dally not, where is the monie?
¶So great a charge from thine owne custodie.
¶Me thinkes your maw, like mine, should be your cooke,
¶Reserue them till a merrier houre then this:
235Where is the gold I gaue in charge to thee?
¶E.Dro. My charge was but to fetch you frõ the Mart
¶But not a thousand markes betweene you both.
¶Perchance you will not beare them patiently.
¶She that doth fast till you come home to dinner:
255And praies that you will hie you home to dinner.
¶Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus vnto my face
¶Being forbid? There take you that sir knaue.
¶Nay, and you will not sir, Ile take my heeles.
260
Exeunt Dromio Ep.
¶The villaine is ore-wrought of all my monie.
¶As nimble Iuglers that deceiue the eie:
265Darke working Sorcerers that change the minde:
¶Soule-killing Witches, that deforme the bodie:
¶I greatly feare my monie is not safe.
Exit.
¶
Actus Secundus.
¶
Enter Adriana, wife to Antipholis Sereptus, with
¶Luciana her Sister.
¶Sure Luciana it is two a clocke.
¶And from the Mart he's somewhere gone to dinner:
280Good Sister let vs dine, and neuer fret;
¶A man is Master of his libertie:
¶Luc. Oh, know he is the bridle of your will.
290There's nothing situate vnder heauens eye,
¶Are their males subiects, and at their controules:
295Lord of the wide world, and wilde watry seas,
¶Of more preheminence then fish and fowles,
¶Are masters to their females, and their Lords:
¶Then let your will attend on their accords.
¶Luci. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed.
305Luc. Till he come home againe, I would forbeare.
¶They can be meeke, that haue no other cause:
¶We bid be quiet when we heare it crie.
310But were we burdned with like waight of paine,
¶So thou that hast no vnkinde mate to greeue thee,
¶But if thou liue to see like right bereft,
315This foole-beg'd patience in thee will be left.
¶Luci. Well, I will marry one day but to trie:
¶Heere comes your man, now is your husband nie.
¶
Enter Dromio Eph.
320E.Dro. Nay, hee's at too hands with mee, and that my
¶his minde?
¶E.Dro. I, I, he told his minde vpon mine eare,
¶his meaning.
¶feele his blowes; and withall so doubtfully, that I could
¶Adri. Horne mad, thou villaine?
335E.Dro. I meane not Cuckold mad,
¶When I desir'd him to come home to dinner,
¶He ask'd me for a hundred markes in gold:
¶'Tis dinner time, quoth I: my gold, quoth he:
340Your meat doth burne, quoth I: my gold quoth he:
¶Will you come, quoth I: my gold, quoth he;
¶Where is the thousand markes I gaue thee villaine?
¶The Pigge quoth I, is burn'd: my gold, quoth he:
¶Luci. Quoth who?
I know quoth he, no house,
¶tongue, I thanke him, I bare home vpon my shoulders:
350for in conclusion, he did beat me there.
¶Dro. Goe backe againe, and be new beaten home?
¶Betweene you, I shall haue a holy head.
¶That like a foot-ball you doe spurne me thus:
¶Luci. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face.
365Hath homelie age th' alluring beauty tooke
¶From my poore cheeke? then he hath wasted it.
370Doe their gay vestments his affections baite?
¶What ruines are in me that can be found,
¶By him not ruin'd? Then is he the ground
¶Of my defeatures. My decayed faire,
¶But, too vnruly Deere, he breakes the pale,
¶And feedes from home; poore I am but his stale.
380I know his eye doth homage other-where,
¶Or else, what lets it but he would be here?
¶Sister, you know he promis'd me a chaine,
¶Would that alone, a loue he would detaine,
¶So he would keepe faire quarter with his bed:
¶That others touch, and often touching will,
¶Where gold and no man that hath a name,
390Since that my beautie cannot please his eie,
¶Ile weepe (what's left away) and weeping die.
¶
Exit.
¶
Enter Antipholis Errotis.
395Ant. The gold I gaue to Dromio is laid vp
¶Safe at the Centaur, and the heedfull slaue
¶Is wandred forth in care to seeke me out
¶By computation and mine hosts report.
¶
Enter Dromio Siracusia.
¶How now sir, is your merrie humor alter'd?
¶You know no Centaur? you receiu'd no gold?
¶Home to the Centaur with the gold you gaue me.
Beats Dro.
420Vpon what bargaine do you giue it me?
¶Doe vse you for my foole, and chat with you,
¶And make a Common of my serious howres,
¶But creepe in crannies, when he hides his beames:
¶And fashion your demeanor to my lookes,
¶Or I will beat this method in your sconce.
¶sir, why am I beaten?
¶Ant. Shall I tell you why?
¶hath a wherefore.
¶for vrging it the second time to me.
¶S.Dro. Was there euer anie man thus beaten out of
¶for nothing.
¶Ant. Ile make you amends next, to giue you nothing
¶another drie basting.
¶time for all things.
¶chollericke.
¶pate of Father time himselfe.
465Ant. Let's heare it.
¶S.Dro. There's no time for a man to recouer his haire
¶that growes bald by nature.
¶Ant. May he not doe it by fine and recouerie?
¶S.Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a perewig, and recouer
470the lost haire of another man.
¶it is) so plentifull an excrement?
475giuen them in wit.
¶Ant. Why, but theres manie a man hath more haire
¶then wit.
¶his haire.
¶lers without wit.
¶seth it in a kinde of iollitie.
¶S.Dro. Sure ones then.
¶S.Dro. Certaine ones then.
490An. Name them.
¶trying: the other, that at dinner they should not drop in
¶his porrage.
¶An. You would all this time haue prou'd, there is no
495time for all things.
¶couer haire lost by Nature.
¶is no time to recouer.
¶therefore to the worlds end, will haue bald followers.
¶who wafts vs yonder.
¶
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
¶I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.
¶The time was once, when thou vn-vrg'd wouldst vow,
¶That neuer words were musicke to thine eare,
510That neuer obiect pleasing in thine eye,
¶That neuer touch well welcome to thy hand,
¶How comes it now, my Husband, oh how comes it,
¶That vndiuidable Incorporate
¶Am better then thy deere selfes better part.
¶Ah doe not teare away thy selfe from me;
¶A drop of water in the breaking gulfe,
¶And take vnmingled thence that drop againe
¶Without addition or diminishing,
¶As take from me thy selfe, and not me too.
525How deerely would it touch thee to the quicke,
¶Shouldst thou but heare I were licencious?
¶And that this body consecrate to thee,
530And hurle the name of husband in my face,
¶And from my false hand cut the wedding ring,
¶And breake it with a deepe-diuorcing vow?
¶My bloud is mingled with the crime of lust:
¶For if we two be one, and thou play false,
¶Being strumpeted by thy contagion:
540Keepe then faire league and truce with thy true bed,
¶Antip. Plead you to me faire dame? I know you not:
¶In Ephesus I am but two houres old,
¶As strange vnto your towne, as to your talke,
545Who euery word by all my wit being scan'd,
¶Wants wit in all, one word to vnderstand.
¶Luci. Fie brother, how the world is chang'd with you:
¶She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
¶That he did buffet thee, and in his bl
owes,
¶Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
555What is the course and drift of your compact?
¶Didst thou deliuer to me on the Mart.
¶Adri. How ill agrees it with your grauitie,
¶Abetting him to thwart me in my moode;
565Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt,
¶But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
¶Thou art an Elme my husband, I a Vine:
570Makes me with thy strength to communicate:
¶Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion,
¶ theame;
¶What, was I married to her in my dreame?
¶Or sleepe I now, and thinke I heare all this?
580Vntill I know this sure vncertaintie,
¶Ile entertaine the free'd fallacie.
585We talke with Goblins, Owles and Sprights;
¶If we obay them not, this will insue:
¶They'll sucke our breath, or pinch vs blacke and blew.
¶S.Dro. No, I am an Ape.
¶Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a foole,
600To put the finger in the eie and weepe;
¶Come sir to dinner, Dromio keepe the gate:
¶Husband Ile dine aboue with you to day,
¶Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter:
¶Ant. Am I in earth, in heauen, or in hell?
¶Sleeping or waking, mad or well aduisde:
¶And in this mist at all aduentures go.
615Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine to late.
¶
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio, Angelo the
¶Say that I lingerd with you at your shop
¶To see the making of her Carkanet,
¶And that to morrow you will bring it home.
¶But here's a villaine that would face me downe
625He met me on the Mart, and that I beat him,
¶And charg'd him with a thousand markes in gold,
¶And that I did denie my wife and house;
¶Thou drunkard thou, what didst thou meane by this?
630That you beat me at the Mart I haue your hand to show;
¶If yr skin were parchment, & ye blows you gaue were ink,
¶Your owne hand-writing would tell you what I thinke.
635By the wrongs I suffer, and the blowes I beare,
¶May answer my good will, and your good welcom here.
¶Anti. And welcome more common, for thats nothing
645 but words.
¶ rie feast.
¶But though my cates be meane, take them in good part,
650Better cheere may you haue, but not with better hart.
¶But soft, my doore is lockt; goe bid them let vs in.
¶ ot, Patch,
655Either get thee from the dore, or sit downe at the hatch:
¶When one is one too many, goe get thee from the dore.
¶ catch cold on's feet.
¶E.Ant. Who talks within there? hoa, open the dore.
¶ me wherefore.
665Ant. Wherefore? for my dinner: I haue not din'd to
¶ day.
¶ when you may.
670 howse I owe?
¶S.Dro. The Porter for this time Sir, and my name is
¶ Dromio.
¶ and my name,
675The one nere got me credit, the other mickle blame:
¶If thou hadst beene Dromio to day in my place,
¶Thou wouldst haue chang'd thy face for a name, or thy
¶
Enter Luce.
¶ at the gate?
¶ Master.
¶ uerbe,
¶Luce. Haue at you with another, that's when? can
¶ you tell?
¶ swer'd him well.
¶Anti. Doe you heare you minion, you'll let vs in I
¶ hope?
¶ for blow.
¶Anti. Thou baggage let me in.
¶Luce. Let him knocke till it ake.
¶Anti. You'll crie for this minion, if I beat the doore
¶ downe.
705 towne?
¶
Enter Adriana.
¶ ruly boies.
710Anti. Are you there Wife? you might haue come
¶ before.
¶ goe sore.
¶ would faine haue either.
¶ with neither.
720 welcome hither.
¶ not get in.
¶ were thin.
725Your cake here is warme within: you stand here in the
¶ cold.
¶It would make a man mad as a Bucke to be so bought
¶ and sold.
730S.Dro. Breake any breaking here, and Ile breake your
¶ knaues pate.
¶ words are but winde:
¶I and breake it in your face, so he break it not behinde.
¶ hinde.
¶E.Dro. Here's too much out vpon thee, I pray thee let
¶ me in.
740 no fin.
¶Ant. Well, Ile breake in: go borrow me a crow.
¶For a fish without a finne, ther's a fowle without a fether,
¶If a crow help vs in sirra, wee'll plucke a crow together.
745Ant. Go, get thee gon, fetch me an iron Crow.
¶Heerein you warre against your reputation,
¶Th' vnuiolated honor of your wife.
750Once this your long experience of your wisedome,
¶Why at this time the dores are made against you.
755Be rul'd by me, depart in patience,
¶And let vs to the Tyger all to dinner,
¶And about euening come your selfe alone,
¶If by strong hand you offer to breake in
¶A vulgar comment will be made of it;
¶That may with foule intrusion enter in,
765And dwell vpon your graue when you are dead;
¶Anti. You haue preuail'd, I will depart in quiet,
¶And in despight of mirth meane to be merrie:
¶Prettie and wittie; wilde, and yet too gentle;
¶There will we dine: this woman that I meane
¶Hath oftentimes vpbraided me withall:
775To her will we to dinner, get you home
¶And fetch the chaine, by this I know 'tis made,
¶Bring it I pray you to the Porpentine,
¶(Be it for nothing but to spight my wife)
¶Since mine owne doores refuse to entertaine me,
785
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Iuliana, with Antipholus of Siracusia.
¶Iulia. And may it be that you haue quite forgot
790Shall loue in buildings grow so ruinate?
¶Be not thy tongue thy owne shames Orator:
¶Apparell vice like vertues harbenger:
¶Beare a faire presence, though your heart be tainted,
800Teach sinne the carriage of a holy Saint,
¶What simple thiefe brags of his owne attaine?
¶'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed,
¶And let her read it in thy lookes at boord:
805Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed,
¶Ill deeds is doubled with an euill word:
¶Alas poore women, make vs not beleeue
¶(Being compact of credit) that you loue vs,
810We in your motion turne, and you may moue vs.
¶Then gentle brother get you in againe;
¶'Tis holy sport to be a little vaine,
¶ know not;
¶Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine:
¶Then our earths wonder, more then earth diuine.
820Teach me deere creature how to thinke and speake:
¶Smothred in errors, feeble, shallow, weake,
¶The foulded meaning of your words deceit:
825To make it wander in an vnknowne field?
¶Are you a god? would you create me new?
¶Transforme me then, and to your powre Ile yeeld.
¶But if that I am I, then well I know,
830Nor to her bed no homage doe I owe:
¶Farre more, farre more, to you doe I decline:
¶Oh traine me not sweet Mermaide with thy note,
¶Sing Siren for thy selfe, and I will dote:
835Spread ore the siluer waues thy golden haires;
¶And as a bud Ile take thee, and there lie:
¶He gaines by death, that hath such meanes to die:
¶Ant. Not mad, but mated, how I doe not know.
¶Ant. For gazing on your beames
faire sun being by.
845 your sight.
¶Mine eies cleere eie, my deere hearts deerer heart;
¶My foode, my fortune, and my sweet hopes aime;
¶My sole earths heauen, and my heauens claime.
¶Thee will I loue, and with thee lead my life;
¶Giue me thy hand.
Exit.
¶
Enter Dromio, Siracusia.
¶ fast?
865 your man? Am I my selfe?
¶Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art
¶ thy selfe.
¶ my selfe.
¶ selfe?
¶One that claimes me, one that haunts me, one that will
¶haue me.
¶rie beastly creature layes claime to me.
¶but leane lucke in the match, and yet is she a wondrous
¶fat marriage.
¶and I know not what vse to put her too, but to make a
¶Lampe of her, and run from her by her owne light. I
¶warrant, her ragges and the Tallow in them, will burne
¶a weeke longer then the whole World.
895uer-shooes in the grime of it.
¶Anti. That's a fault that water will mend.
¶do it.
¶Anti. What's her name?
900Dro. Nell Sir: but her name is three quarters, that's
¶an Ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip
¶to hip.
¶Dro. No longer from head to foot, then from hippe
¶Countries in her.
¶the bogges.
910Ant. Where Scotland?
¶of the hand.
¶Ant. Where France?
¶Dro. In her forhead, arm'd and reuerted, making
915warre against her heire.
¶Ant. Where England?
¶Dro. I look'd for the chalkle Cliffes, but I could find
¶by the salt rheume that ranne betweene France, and it.
920Ant. Where Spaine?
¶Ant. Where America, the Indies?
¶Rubies, Carbuncles, Saphires, declining their rich As-
¶this drudge or Diuiner layd claime to mee, call'd mee
¶markes I had about mee, as the marke of my shoulder,
¶the Mole in my necke, the great Wart on my left arme,
¶that I amaz'd ranne from her as a witch. And I thinke,
if
¶my brest had not beene made of faith, and my heart of
¶me turne i'th wheele.
¶And if the winde blow any way from shore,
¶I will not harbour in this Towne to night.
940If any Barke put forth, come to the Mart,
¶Where I will walke till thou returne to me:
¶If euerie one knowes vs, and we know none,
¶'Tis time I thinke to trudge, packe, and be gone.
¶Dro. As from a Beare a man would run for life,
945So flie I from her that would be my wife.
Exit
¶Anti. There's none but Witches do inhabite heere,
¶And therefore 'tis hie time that I were hence:
955
Enter Angelo with the Chaine.
¶Ang. Mr Antipholus.
¶Anti. I that's my name.
¶I thought to haue tane you at the Porpentine,
¶you.
965Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twentie times you
¶haue:
¶Go home with it, and please your Wife withall,
¶And then receiue my money for the chaine.
¶For feare you ne're see chaine, nor mony more.
¶But this I thinke, there's no man is so vaine,
¶Ile to the Mart, and there for Dromio stay,
Exit.
980
Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.
¶
Enter a Merchant, Goldsmith, and an Officer.
¶And since I haue not much importun'd you,
¶Nor now I had not, but that I am bound
985To Persia, and want Gilders for my voyage:
¶Or Ile attach you by this Officer.
¶Is growing to me by Antipholus,
990And in the instant that I met with you,
¶He had of me a Chaine, at fiue a clocke
¶I will discharge my bond, and thanke you too.
995
Enter Antipholus Ephes.Dromio from the Courtizans.
¶And buy a ropes end, that will I bestow
¶Among my wife, and their confederates,
1000For locking me out of my doores by day:
¶Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.
¶
Exit Dromio
¶But neither Chaine nor Goldsmith came to me:
¶Belike you thought our loue would last too long
¶If it were chain'd together: and therefore came not.
1010Gold. Sauing your merrie humor: here's the note
¶How much your Chaine weighs to the vtmost charect,
¶Which doth amount to three odde Duckets more
¶Then I stand debted to this Gentleman,
¶For he is bound to Sea, and stayes but for it.
1020And with you take the Chaine, and bid my wife
¶Perchance I will be there as soone as you.
¶Gold. Then you will bring the Chaine to her your
¶selfe.
¶nough.
¶you?
1030Or else you may returne without your money.
¶Both winde and tide stayes for this Gentleman,
¶And I too blame haue held him heere too long.
1035Your breach of promise to the Porpentine,
¶I should haue chid you for not bringing it,
¶Gold. You heare how he importunes me, the Chaine.
1040Ant. Why giue it to my wife, and fetch your mony.
¶Gold. Come, come, you know I gaue it you euen now.
¶Ant. Fie, now you run this humor out of breath,
¶Come where's the Chaine, I pray you let me see it.
¶If not, Ile leaue him to the Officer.
¶Gold. The monie that you owe me for the Chaine.
1050Ant. I owe you none, till I receiue the Chaine.
¶Ant. You gaue me none, you wrong mee much to
¶bey me.
¶Gold. This touches me in reputation.
¶Or I attach you by this Officer.
¶Ant. I do obey thee, till I giue thee baile.
¶To your notorious shame, I doubt it not.
¶
Enter Dromio Sira. from the Bay.
1075That staies but till her Owner comes aboord,
¶I haue conuei'd aboord, and I haue bought
¶The Oyle, the Balsamum, and Aqua-vitae.
¶The ship is in her trim, the merrie winde
1080Blowes faire from land: they stay for nought at all,
¶And told thee to what purpose, and what end.
1090And teach your eares to list me with more heede:
¶To Adriana Villaine hie thee straight:
¶Giue her this key, and tell her in the Deske
¶On Officer to prison, till it come.
Exeunt
¶S.Dromio. To Adriana, that is where we din'd,
Exit
¶
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
¶That he did plead in earnest, yea or no:
¶Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily?
¶Oh, his hearts Meteors tilting in his face.
¶Adr. And true
he swore, though yet forsworne hee
¶were.
1115Luc. Then pleaded I for you.
¶Luc. That loue I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me.
¶My tongue, though not my heart, shall haue his will.
1125He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,
¶Vicious, vngentle, foolish, blunt, vnkinde,
¶Stigmaticall in making worse in minde.
1130No euill lost is wail'd, when it is gone.
¶And yet would herein others eies were worse:
¶Farre from her nest the Lapwing cries away;
¶My heart praies for him, though my tongue doe curse.
1135
Enter S.Dromio.
¶haste.
¶A diuell in an euerlasting garment hath him;
1145A Wolfe, nay worse, a fellow all in buffe:
¶A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well,
¶One that before the Iudgmẽt carries poore soules to hel.
1150Adr. Why man, what is the matter?
¶the case.
¶his deske.
¶
Exit Luciana.
1160Thus he vnknowne to me should be in debt:
¶Tell me, was he arested on a band?
¶A chaine, a chaine, doe you not here it ring.
¶Adria. What, the chaine?
1165S.Dro. No, no, the bell, 'tis time that I were gone:
¶It was two ere I left him, and now the clocke strikes one.
¶Adr. The houres come backe, that did I neuer here.
¶S.Dro. Oh yes, if any houre meete a Serieant, a turnes
¶backe for verie feare.
¶reason?
¶S.Dro. Time is a verie bankerout, and owes more then
¶Nay, he's a theefe too: haue you not heard men say,
1175That time comes stealing on by night and day?
¶If I be in debt and theft, and a Serieant in the way,
¶Hath he not reason to turne backe an houre in a day?
¶
Enter Luciana.
1180And bring thy Master home imediately.
¶Conceit, my comfort and my iniurie.
Exit.
¶
Enter Antipholus Siracusia.
¶There's not a man I meete but doth salute me
1185As if I were their well acquainted friend,
¶And euerie one doth call me by my name:
¶Some tender monie to me, some inuite me;
¶Some offer me Commodities to buy.
1190Euen now a tailor cal'd me in his shop,
¶And show'd me Silkes that he had bought for me,
¶And therewithall tooke measure of my body.
¶Sure these are but imaginarie wiles,
¶And lapland Sorcerers inhabite here.
1195
Enter Dromio. Sir.
¶haue you got the picture of old Adam new apparel'd?
¶meane?
¶that Adam that keepes the prison; hee that goes in the
¶calues-skin, that was kil'd for the Prodigall: hee that
¶sake your libertie.
¶he sir, that takes pittie on decaied men, and giues them
¶ploits with his Mace, then a Moris Pike.
¶any man to answer it that breakes his Band: one that
1215thinkes a man alwaies going to bed, and saies, God giue
¶you good rest.
¶Is there any ships puts forth to night? may we be gone?
1220that the Barke Expedition put forth to night, and then
¶were you hindred by the Serieant to tarry for the Hoy
¶Delay: Here are the angels that you sent for to deliuer
¶you.
1225And here we wander in illusions:
¶
Enter a Curtizan.
1230Is that the chaine you promis'd me to day.
¶Ant. Sathan auoide, I charge thee tempt me not.
¶Ant. It is the diuell.
1235And here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and
¶thereof comes, that the wenches say God dam me, That's
¶ten, they appeare to men like angels of light, light is an
¶effect of fire, and fire will burne: ergo, light wenches will
1240burne, come not neere her.
¶Will you goe with me, wee'll mend our dinner here?
¶a long spoone.
1245Ant. Why Dromio?
¶eate with the diuell.
1250I coniure thee to leaue me, and be gon.
¶Cur. Giue me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
¶Or for my Diamond the Chaine you promis'd,
¶And Ile be gone sir, and not trouble you.
¶her Chaine, and fright vs with it.
1260I hope you do not meane to cheate me so?
¶Ant. Auant thou witch: Come Dromio let vs go.
¶you know.
Exit.
¶Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
¶A Ring he hath of mine worth fortie Duckets,
¶And for the same he promis'd me a Chaine,
¶Both one and other he denies me now:
¶The reason that I gather he is mad,
¶Is a mad tale he told to day at dinner,
¶Belike his wife acquainted with his fits,
1275My way is now to hie home to his house,
¶And tell his wife, that being Lunaticke,
¶For fortie Duckets is too much to loose.
1280
Enter Antipholus Ephes. with a Iailor.
¶An. Feare me not man, I will not breake away,
¶Ile giue thee ere I leaue thee so much money
¶To warrant thee as I am rested for.
¶My wife is in a wayward moode to day,
¶
Enter Dromio Eph. with a ropes end.
¶Heere comes my Man, I thinke he brings the monie.
¶E.Dro. Here's that I warrant you will pay them all.
¶Anti. But where's the Money?
¶Ant. Fiue hundred Duckets villaine for a rope?
¶Ant. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?
¶turn'd.
¶sitie.
¶Offi. Good now hold thy tongue.
¶not feele your blowes.
¶my long eares. I haue serued him from the houre of my
¶Natiuitie to this instant, and haue nothing at his hands
¶for my seruice but blowes. When I am cold, he heates
¶me with beating: when I am warme, he cooles me with
1315beating: I am wak'd with it when I sleepe, rais'd with
¶it when I sit, driuen out of doores with it when I goe
¶from home, welcom'd home with it when I returne, nay
¶I beare it on my shoulders, as a begger woont her brat:
¶and I thinke when he hath lam'd me, I shall begge with
1320it from doore to doore.
¶
Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtizan, and a Schoole-
¶master, call'd Pinch.
¶der.
¶ther the prophesie like the Parrat, beware the ropes end.
1330Good Doctor Pinch, you are a Coniurer,
¶And I will please you what you will demand.
1335Pinch. Giue me your hand, and let mee feele your
¶pulse.
¶Ant. There is my hand, and let it feele your eare.
¶Pinch. I charge thee Sathan, hous'd within this man,
¶I coniure thee by all the Saints in heauen.
¶Anti. Peace doting wizard, peace; I am not mad.
1345Did this Companion with the saffron face
¶And I denied to enter in my house.
1350Where would you had remain'd vntill this time,
¶thou?
¶out.
1360Anti. Did not her Kitchen maide raile, taunt, and
¶scorne me?
¶Ant. And did not I in rage depart from thence?
1365That since haue felt the vigor of his rage.
¶And yeelding to him, humors well his frensie.
1370mee.
¶By Dromio heere, who came in hast for it.
¶Dro. Monie by me? Heart and good will you might,
¶Adri. He came to me, and I deliuer'd it.
¶That I was sent for nothing but a rope.
¶I know it by their pale and deadly lookes,
¶And why dost thou denie the bagge of gold?
¶Dro. And gentle Mr I receiu'd no gold:
1390And art confederate with a damned packe,
¶
Enter three or foure, and offer to binde him:
1395Hee striues.
¶Adr. Oh binde him, binde him, let him not come
¶neere me.
¶Luc. Aye me poore man, how pale and wan he looks.
1400Ant. What will you murther me, thou Iailor thou?
¶cue?
¶shall not haue him.
1405Pinch. Go binde this man, for he is franticke too.
1410The debt he owes will be requir'd of me.
¶Beare me forthwith vnto his Creditor,
¶And knowing how the debt growes I will pay it.
¶mee?
1420Dro. Will you be bound for nothing, be mad good
¶Master, cry the diuell.
¶talke.
¶
Exeunt. Manet Offic. Adri. Luci. Courtizan
¶Off. Two hundred Duckets.
1430Adr. Say, how growes it due.
¶Came to my house, and tooke away my Ring,
1435The Ring I saw vpon his finger now,
¶Straight after did I meete him with a Chaine.
¶Come Iailor, bring me where the Goldsmith is,
¶I long to know the truth heereof at large.
1440
Enter Antipholus Siracusia with his Rapier drawne,
¶and Dromio Sirac.
¶Let's call more helpe to haue them bound againe.
1445
Runne all out.
¶Off. Away, they'l kill vs.
¶
Exeunt omnes, as fast as may be, frighted.
¶S.Dro. She that would be your wife, now ran from
1450you.
¶thence:
¶me thinkes they are such a gentle Nation, that but for
¶the Mountaine of mad flesh that claimes mariage of me,
¶Witch.
¶Therefore away, to get our stuffe aboord.
Exeunt
¶
Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.
¶
Enter the Merchant and the Goldsmith.
1465But I protest he had the Chaine of me,
¶Of credit infinite, highly belou'd,
1470Second to none that liues heere in the Citie:
¶His word might beare my wealth at any time.
¶
Enter Antipholus and Dromio againe.
¶Signior Antipholus, I wonder much
¶That you would put me to this shame and trouble,
¶This Chaine, which now you weare so openly.
¶You haue done wrong to this my honest friend,
¶This Chaine you had of me, can you deny it?
¶Ant. I thinke I had, I neuer did deny it.
¶Fie on thee wretch, 'tis pitty that thou liu'st
¶Ant. Thou art a Villaine to impeach me thus,
¶Ile proue mine honor, and mine honestie
¶Mar. I dare and do defie thee for a villaine.
¶
They draw. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, & others.
¶Some get within him, take his sword away:
1500Binde Dromio too, and beare them to my house.
¶
Exeunt to the Priorie.
¶
Enter Ladie Abbesse.
1505Ab. Be quiet people, wherefore throng you hither?
¶Let vs come in, that we may binde him fast,
¶And beare him home for his recouerie.
¶Gold. I knew he was not in his perfect wits.
¶And much different from the man he was:
1515Ne're brake into extremity of rage.
¶Stray'd his affection in vnlawfull loue,
¶A sinne preuailing much in youthfull men,
1520Who giue their eies the liberty of gazing.
¶Namely, some loue that drew him oft from home.
¶Ab. I but not rough enough.
¶Ab. Haply in priuate.
1530Ab. I, but not enough.
¶Adr. It was the copie of our Conference.
¶In bed he slept not for my vrging it,
¶At boord he fed not for my vrging it:
¶Alone, it was the subiect of my Theame:
1535In company I often glanced it:
¶Still did I tell him, it was vilde and bad.
¶Ab. And thereof came it, that the man was mad.
¶The venome clamors of a iealous woman,
¶Poisons more deadly then a mad dogges tooth.
¶And thereof comes it that his head is light.
¶Vnquiet meales make ill digestions,
¶Thereof the raging fire of feauer bred,
¶Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue
¶But moodie and dull melancholly,
1550And at her heeles a huge infectious troope
¶Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life?
¶The consequence is then, thy iealous fits
¶Luc. She neuer reprehended him but mildely,
¶When he demean'd himselfe, rough, rude, and wildly,
¶Adri. She did betray me to my owne reproofe,
1560Good people enter, and lay hold on him.
¶And it shall priuiledge him from your hands,
1565Till I haue brought him to his wits againe,
¶And will haue no atturney but my selfe,
1570And therefore let me haue him home with me.
¶Till I haue vs'd the approoued meanes I haue,
¶To make of him a formall man againe:
1575It is a branch and parcell of mine oath,
¶A charitable dutie of my order,
¶Therefore depart, and leaue him heere with me.
¶Luc. Complaine vnto the Duke of this indignity.
¶And neuer rise vntill my teares and prayers
1585Haue won his grace to come in person hither,
¶Mar. By this I thinke the Diall points at fiue:
¶Comes this way to the melancholly vale;
1590The place of depth, and sorrie execution,
¶Behinde the ditches of the Abbey heere.
¶Who put vnluckily into this Bay
1595Against the Lawes and Statutes of this Towne,
¶Beheaded publikely for his offence.
¶Gold. See where they come, we wil behold his death
¶
Enter the Duke of Ephesus, and the Merchant of Siracuse
¶Duke. Yet once againe proclaime it publikely,
¶If any friend will pay the summe for him,
¶Duke. She is a vertuous and a reuerend Lady,
¶It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.
¶Who I made Lord of me, and all I had,
1610At your important Letters this ill day,
¶With him his bondman, all as mad as he,
¶Rings, Iewels, any thing his rage did like.
¶Once did I get him bound, and sent him home,
¶Whil'st to take order for the wrongs I went,
¶That heere and there his furie had committed,
¶He broke from those that had the guard of him,
¶And with his mad attendant and himselfe,
¶Met vs againe, and madly bent on vs
1625Chac'd vs away: till raising of more aide
¶We came againe to binde them: then they fled
¶Into this Abbey, whether we pursu'd them,
¶And will not suffer vs to fetch him out,
1630Nor send him forth, that we may beare him hence.
¶Therefore most gracious Duke with thy command,
¶Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for helpe.
¶And I to thee ingag'd a Princes word,
¶To do him all the grace and good I could.
¶Go some of you, knocke at the Abbey gate,
¶I will determine this before I stirre.
1640
Enter a Messenger.
¶Beaten the Maids a-row, and bound the Doctor,
1645And euer as it blaz'd, they threw on him
¶Great pailes of puddled myre to quench the haire;
¶My Mr preaches patience to him, and the while
¶His man with Cizers nickes him like a foole:
1650Betweene them they will kill the Coniurer.
1655He cries for you, and vowes if he can take you,
¶
Cry within.
¶Harke, harke, I heare him Mistris: flie, be gone.
1660Halberds.
band: witnesse you,
¶That he is borne about inuisible,
¶Euen now we hous'd him in the Abbey heere.
1665
Enter Antipholus, and E.Dromio of Ephesus.
¶When I bestrid thee in the warres, and tooke
¶She whom thou gau'st to me to be my wife;
¶Euen in the strength and height of iniurie:
¶Beyond imagination is the wrong
¶vpon me,
¶As this is false he burthens me withall.
1690In this the Madman iustly chargeth them.
¶Neither disturbed with the effect of Wine,
¶Nor headie-rash prouoak'd with raging ire,
¶Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
1695This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner;
¶That Goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
¶Who parted with me to go fetch a Chaine,
¶Promising to bring it to the Porpentine,
1700Where Balthasar and I did dine together.
¶Our dinner done, and he not comming thither,
¶And in his companie that Gentleman.
1705That I this day of him receiu'd the Chaine,
¶Which God he knowes, I saw not. For the which,
¶He did arrest me with an Officer.
¶For certaine Duckets: he with none return'd.
1710Then fairely I bespoke the Officer
¶Of vilde Confederates: Along with them
¶They brought one Pinch, a hungry leane-fac'd Villaine;
1715A meere Anatomie, a Mountebanke,
¶A thred-bare Iugler, and a Fortune-teller,
¶A needy-hollow-ey'd-sharpe-looking-wretch;
¶A liuing dead man. This pernicious slaue,
¶Forsooth tooke on him as a Coniurer:
1720And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
¶And with no-face (as 'twere) out-facing me,
¶They fell vpon me, bound me, bore me thence,
¶And in a darke and dankish vault at home
1725There left me and my man, both bound together,
¶Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder,
¶I gain'd my freedome; and immediately
¶Ran hether to your Grace, whom I beseech
¶Gold. My Lord, in truth, thus far I witnes with him:
¶That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out.
¶Gold. He had my Lord, and when he ran in heere,
¶And thereupon I drew my sword on you:
1740And then you fled into this Abbey heere,
¶From whence I thinke you are come by Miracle.
1745And this is false you burthen me withall.
¶Duke. Why what an intricate impeach is this?
¶I thinke you all haue drunke of Circes cup:
¶If heere you hous'd him, heere he would haue bin.
¶If he were mad, he would not pleade so coldly:
¶tine.
1755E.Anti. Tis true (my Liege) this Ring I had of her.
¶ther.
1760I thinke you are all mated, or starke mad.
¶
Exit one to the Abbesse.
¶And pay the sum that may deliuer me.
¶And is not that your bondman Dromio?
¶But he I thanke him gnaw'd in two my cords,
1770Now am I Dromio, and his man, vnbound.
¶For lately we were bound as you are now.
¶You are not Pinches patient, are you sir?
¶me well.
¶And carefull houres with times deformed hand,
1780Haue written strange defeatures in my face:
¶But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
¶Ant. Neither.
¶Fat. Dromio, nor thou?
¶euer a man denies, you are now bound to beleeue him.
¶Fath. Not know my voice, oh times extremity
¶Knowes not my feeble key of vntun'd cares?
¶Though now this grained face of mine be hid
¶And all the Conduits of my blood froze vp:
1795Yet hath my night of life some memorie:
¶My dull deafe eares a little vse to heare:
¶Tell me, thou art my sonne Antipholus.
¶Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the City,
¶Haue I bin Patron to Antipholus,
1810I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.
¶
Enter the Abbesse with Antipholus Siracusa,
¶and Dromio Sir.
¶wrong'd.
1815
All gather to see them.
¶And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?
1820S.Dromio. I Sir am Dromio, command him away.
¶heere?
¶And gaine a husband by his libertie:
¶Speake olde Egeon, if thou bee'st the man
¶That hadst a wife once call'd Aemilia,
¶That bore thee at a burthen two faire sonnes?
¶Which accidentally are met together.
¶Fa. If I dreame not, thou art Aemilia,
1840That floated with thee on the fatall rafte.
¶Abb. By men of Epidamium, he, and I,
¶And the twin Dromio, all were taken vp;
¶But by and by, rude Fishermen of Corinth
¶By force tooke Dromio, and my sonne from them,
1845And me they left with those of Epidamium.
¶What then became of them, I cannot tell:
¶I, to this fortune that you see mee in.
¶E.Dro. And I with him.
¶Warriour,
1855Duke Menaphon your most renowned Vnckle.
¶Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to day?
¶Did call me brother. What I told you then,
¶If this be not a dreame I see and heare.
¶mee.
¶By Dromio, but I thinke he brought it not.
¶E.Dro. No, none by me.
¶And Dromio my man did bring them me:
¶And I was tane for him, and he for me,
¶E.Ant. There take it, and much thanks for my good
¶cheere.
¶To go with vs into the Abbey heere,
¶That by this simpathized one daies error
¶Haue suffer'd wrong. Goe, keepe vs companie,
1890Thirtie three yeares haue I but gone in trauaile
¶My heauie burthen are deliuered:
¶The Duke my husband, and my children both,
¶And you the Kalenders of their Natiuity,
¶
Exeunt omnes. Manet the two Dromio's and
¶two Brothers.
¶Come go with vs, wee'l looke to that anon,
1905Embrace thy brother there, reioyce with him.
Exit
¶That kitchin'd me for you to day at dinner:
¶S.Dro. Wee'l draw Cuts for the Signior, till then,
1915lead thou first.
¶E.Dro. Nay then thus:
¶We came into the world like brother and brother:
¶And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
¶
Exeunt.
1920
FINIS.
