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 retained his name—
Might bear him company in the quest of him;
Whom whilst I laboured of a love to see,
I hazarded the loss of whom I loved.
Five summers have I spent in farthest 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
Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have marked
To bear the extremity of dire mishap,
Now trust me, were it not against our laws—
Which princes, would they, may not disannul—
Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,
My soul should sue as advocate for thee.
But though thou art adjudged to the death,
And passed sentence may not be recalled
But to our honour’s great disparagement,
Yet will I favour thee in what I can.
Therefore, merchant, I’ll limit thee this day
To seek thy health 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 doomed to die.
Jailer, take him to thy custody.
JAILER I will, my lord.
EGEON
Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend,
But to procrastinate his lifeless end.
Exeunt
1.2
Enter ⌈from the bay⌉ Antipholus of Syracuse, Merchant ⌈of Ephesus⌉, and Dromio of Syracuse
MERCHANT ⌈OF EPHESUS⌉
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 (to
Dromio
)
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?
MERCHANT ⌈OF EPHESUS⌉
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 bedtime.
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.
MERCHANT ⌈OF EPHESUS⌉
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 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.
Here comes the almanac of my true date.
What now? How chance thou art returned so soon?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS
Returned so soon? Rather approached 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 today.
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 dar’st thou trust
So great a charge from thine own custody?
DROMIO OF EPHESUS
I pray you, jest, sir, 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 scour 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
Now, as I am a Christian, answer me
In what safe place you have bestowed 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, an 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,
Disguisèd cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many suchlike libertines 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
2.1
Enter ⌈from the Phoenix⌉ Adriana, wife of Antipholus of Ephesus, with Luciana, her sister
ADRIANA
Neither my husband nor the slave returned
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 mistress, 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 lashed 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.
Man, more divine, the master of all these,
Lord of the wide world and wild wat’ry seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence 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 otherwhere?
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 we should ourselves complain.
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would relieve me.
But if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begged 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.
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
I? 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 RPHESUS Nay, he struck so plainly I could too well feel his blows, and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce under-stand 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 asked 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 burned.’ ‘My gold!’ quoth he.
‘My mistress, sir—’ quoth I. ‘Hang up thy mistress!
I know thy mistress not. Out on thy mistress!’