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 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: My wife, more careful for the latter-born, Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, Such as sea-faring 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 dispos'd, 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, Were carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, 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, Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: But ere they came,-O, let me say no more! Gather the sequel by that went before. Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off For we may pity, though not pardon thee. [so: Ege. 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 encounter'd 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 seiz'd on us; And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, Gave helpful 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; [for, Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest Do me the favour to dilate at full What hath befall'n of them, and thee, till now. Ege. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, At eighteen years became inquisitive After his brother; and impórtun'd me, That his attendant, (for 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 lov'd. 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, To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Gaol. I will, my lord. Æge. Hopeless, and helpless, doth Ægeon wend, But to procrastinate his lifeless end. SCENE II-A Public Place. [Exeunt. Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse, and a Merchant. Mer. Therefore, give out, you are of Epidamnum, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day, a Syracusan 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. Ant. S. 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. [word, Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your And go indeed, having so good a mean. [Exit. Ant. S. 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? Mer. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, Commends me to the thing I cannot get. Here comes the almanack of my true date.~ too late : The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; The clock has strucken twelve upon the bell, My mistress made it one upon my cheek: Sh 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. Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray; Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dro. E. 0,-sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper?- Ant. S. 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? Dro. E. 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 score your fault upon my pate. Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your clock, And strike you home without a messenger. Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: me. the mart Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner; My mistress, and her sister, stay for you. Ant. S. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, 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 undispos'd: Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? Dro. E. 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. Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks! what mistress, slave, hast thou? [Phoenix; Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner, And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. Š. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands; Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I. A public Place. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. A man is master of his liberty: Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. pause; They can be meek, that have no other cause. This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try ;— Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus. Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness. Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them. Adr. But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn mad! Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain? [stark mad: Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; My gold, quoth be: 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; [Exit. My mistress, sir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress ; I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress! Luc. Quoth who? Adr. 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. Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine, and never fret: Dro. E. Quoth my master: I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress ;— I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake, send some other messenger. Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy head across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you I shall have a holy head. [home. pense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; SCENE II.-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. [Exeunt. Ant. S. 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 hosts 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? [since. Ant. A. Even now, even here, not half an hour Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. S. 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 displeas'd. Dro. S. I am glad to see you in this merry vein : What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer, and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. (Beating him.) Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest is earnest : Upon what bargain do you give it me? Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometime 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 demeanour to my looks, Or I will beat this method in your sconce. Dro. S. 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 I am beaten? Ant. S. Dost thou not know? Dro. S. Nothing, sir; but that I am beaten. Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for, they say, every why hath a wherefore. Ant. S. Why, first-for flouting me; and then, wherefore, For urging it the second time to me. Dro. S. 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. Ant. S. Thank me, sir? for what? Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something, that you gave me for nothing. Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner time? [have. Dro. S. No, sir; I think, the meat wants that I Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. Dro. S. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it. Ant. S. Your reason? Dro. S. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting. Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time, There's a time for all things. ; Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. Ant. S. By what rule, sir? Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of father Time himself. Ant. S. Let's hear it. Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature. Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for his peruke, and recover the lost hair of another man. Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit. Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. [to lose his hair. Dro. S. Not a man of those but he hath the wit Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: Yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity. Ant. S. For what reason? Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too. Dro. S. Sure ones, then. Ant. S. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. 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 drop in his porridge. Ant. S. You would all this time have proved, there is no time for all things. Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to | Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, recover hair lost by nature. Makes me with thy strength to communicate: If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore, to the world's end will have bald followers. Ant. S. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclusion: But soft! who wafts us yonder? Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA, Adr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange, and frown; The time was once, when thou unurg'd would'st vow, For know, my love, as easy may'st thou fall As take from me thyself, and not me too. I know thou canst; and therefore, see, thou do it. Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed; Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know In Ephesus I am but two hours old, [you not: 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. Luc. Fy, brother! how the world is chang'd with you! When were you wont to use my sister thus? Dro. S. By me? [him, Adr. By thee; and this thou didst return from What is the course and drift of your compact? Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion What, was I married to her in my dream? Luc. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for grass. "Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be, Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate? Adr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR. Ant. E. Good signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: And that to-morrow you will bring it home. Ant. E. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feast. [ing guest: Ant. E. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparBut though my cates be mean, take them in good part; [heart. Better cheer may you have, but not with better But, soft; my door is lock'd; Go bid them let us in. [Jen! Dro. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Dro. S. (Within.) Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch! Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch: [such store, Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. Dro. E. What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street. Dro. S. Let him walk from whence he came, lest be catch cold on's feet. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the door. Dro. S. Right, sir, I'll tell you when, an you'll tell me wherefore. Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner; I have not din'd to-day. Dro. S. Nor to-day here you must not; come again, when you may. Ant. E. What art thou, that keep'st me out from the house I owe? Dro. S. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name; [blame. The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, Thou wouldst have chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass. Luce. (Within.) What a coil is there! Dromio, Faith no; he comes too late; And so tell your master. Dro. E. O Lord, I must laugh:Have at you with a proverb.-Shall I set in my staff? [can you tell? Lace. Have at you with another: that's,-When? Dro. S. If thy name be called Luce, Luce, thou hast answer'd him well. Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? Luce. I thought to have ask'd you. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. door down. Luce. What needs all this, and a pair of stocks in the town? Adr. Within.) Who is that at the door, that keeps all this noise? [unruly boys. Dre. S. By my troth, your town is troubled with Dro. E. They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. Ant. E. There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold: [and sold. It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought Ant. E. Go, fetch me something, I'll break ope the gate. [your knave's pate. Dro. S. Break any breaking here, and I'll break Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, sir; and words are but wind; [behind. Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not Dro. S. It seems thou wantest breaking: Out upon thee, hind! Dro. E. Here's too much, out upon thee! I pray Dro. S. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and [feather: And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, hence. Ant. E. Do so; This jest shall cost me some [Exeunt. expense. |