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  • Title: The Comedy of Errors (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Matthew Steggle

    • Copyright Matthew Steggle. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Matthew Steggle
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Comedy of Errors (Folio 1, 1623)

    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 other giue me thankes for kindnesses;
    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.
    S.Dro. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: what
    haue you got the picture of old Adam new apparel'd?
    Ant. What gold is this? What Adam do'st thou
    meane?
    1200S.Dro. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise: but
    that Adam that keepes the prison; hee that goes in the
    calues-skin, that was kil'd for the Prodigall: hee that
    came behinde you sir, like an euill angel, and bid you for-
    sake your libertie.
    1205Ant. I vnderstand thee not.
    S.Dro. No? why 'tis a plaine case: he that went like
    a Base-Viole in a case of leather; the man sir, that when
    gentlemen are tired giues them a sob, and rests them:
    he sir, that takes pittie on decaied men, and giues them
    1210suites of durance: he that sets vp his rest to doe more ex-
    ploits with his Mace, then a Moris Pike.
    Ant. What thou mean'st an officer?
    S.Dro. I sir, the Serieant of the Band: he that brings
    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.
    Ant. Well sir, there rest in your foolerie:
    Is there any ships puts forth to night? may we be gone?
    S.Dro. Why sir, I brought you word an houre since,
    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.
    Ant. The fellow is distract, and so am I,
    1225And here we wander in illusions:
    Some blessed power deliuer vs from hence.
    Enter a Curtizan.
    Cur. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus:
    I see sir you haue found the Gold-smith now:
    1230Is that the chaine you promis'd me to day.
    Ant. Sathan auoide, I charge thee tempt me not.
    S.Dro. Master, is this Mistris Sathan?
    Ant. It is the diuell.
    S.Dro. Nay, she is worse, she is the diuels dam:
    1235And here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and
    thereof comes, that the wenches say God dam me, That's
    as much to say, God make me a light wench: It is writ-
    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.
    Cur. Your man and you are maruailous merrie sir.
    Will you goe with me, wee'll mend our dinner here?
    S.Dro. Master, if do expect spoon-meate, or bespeake
    a long spoone.
    1245Ant. Why Dromio?
    S.Dro. Marrie he must haue a long spoone that must
    eate with the diuell.
    Ant. Auoid then fiend, what tel'st thou me of sup- (ping?
    Thou art, as you are all a sorceresse:
    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.
    S.Dro. Some diuels aske but the parings of ones naile,
    a
    The Comedie of Errors. 95
    1255a rush, a haire, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherrie-
    stone: but she more couetous, wold haue a chaine: Ma-
    ster be wise, and if you giue it her, the diuell will shake
    her Chaine, and fright vs with it.
    Cur. I pray you sir my Ring, or else the Chaine,
    1260I hope you do not meane to cheate me so?
    Ant. Auant thou witch: Come Dromio let vs go.
    S.Dro. Flie pride saies the Pea-cocke, Mistris that
    you know. Exit.
    Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
    1265Else would he neuer so demeane himselfe,
    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,
    1270Besides this present instance of his rage,
    Is a mad tale he told to day at dinner,
    Of his owne doores being shut against his entrance.
    Belike his wife acquainted with his fits,
    On purpose shut the doores against his way:
    1275My way is now to hie home to his house,
    And tell his wife, that being Lunaticke,
    He rush'd into my house, and tooke perforce
    My Ring away. This course I fittest choose,
    For fortie Duckets is too much to loose.
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