Read The Comedy of Errors Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
EGEON
Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall,
And by the
doom
2
of death end woes and all.
DUKE
Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more.
I am not
partial
4
to infringe our laws;
The enmity and discord which of late
Sprung from the
rancorous outrage
6
of your duke
To merchants, our
well-dealing
7
countrymen,
Who,
wanting
guilders
to
redeem
8
their lives,
Have
sealed
his
rigorous statutes
9
with their bloods,
Excludes all pity from our threat’ning looks,
For, since the
mortal
and
intestine
jars
11
’Twixt thy
seditious
12
countrymen and us,
It hath in solemn
synods
13
been decreed,
Both by the Syracusans and ourselves,
To admit no
traffic to
our
adverse
15
towns.
Nay, more: if any born at Ephesus
Be seen at any Syracusan
marts
17
and fairs,
Again, if any Syracusan born
Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies:
His goods confiscate
to
the duke’s
dispose
20
,
Unless a thousand
marks
be
levièd
21
To
quit
22
the penalty and to ransom him.
Thy
substance
23
, valued at the highest rate,
Cannot amount unto a hundred marks,
Therefore by law thou art condemned to die.
EGEON
Yet this my comfort: when your words are done,
My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
DUKE
Well, Syracusan, say in brief the cause
Why thou departed’st from thy native home,
And for what cause thou cam’st to Ephesus.
EGEON
A
heavier
31
task could not have been imposed
Than
I
32
to speak my griefs unspeakable.
Yet,
that
33
the world may witness that my end
Was
wrought by nature
34
, not by vile offence,
I’ll utter what my sorrow
gives me leave.
35
In Syracusa was I born, and wed
Unto a woman, happy
but
37
for me,
And
by me, had not our hap been bad.
38
With her I lived in joy, our wealth increased
By prosperous voyages I often made
To
Epidamium
, till my
factor’s
41
death
And the great care of goods
at random
42
left,
Drew me from kind
embracements
43
of my spouse;
From whom my absence was not six months old
Before herself — almost at fainting under
The
pleasing punishment
46
that women bear —
Had made provision for her following me,
And soon and safe arrivèd where I was.
There had she not been long, but she became
A joyful mother of two goodly sons,
And, which was strange, the one so like the other,
As could not be distinguished but by names.
That very hour, and in the self-same inn,
A poor
mean
54
woman was deliverèd
Of such a burden, male twins, both alike.
Those,
for
56
their parents were exceeding poor,
I bought, and brought up to
attend
57
my sons.
My wife, not
meanly
58
proud of two such boys,
Made daily
motions
59
for our home return.
Unwilling I agreed. Alas, too soon we came aboard.
A
league
61
from Epidamium had we sailed
Before the always wind-obeying
deep
62
Gave any tragic
instance
63
of our harm.
But longer did we not retain much hope,
For what obscurèd light the heavens did grant
Did but convey unto our fearful minds
A
doubtful warrant
67
of immediate death,
Which though myself would gladly have embraced,
Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,
Weeping
before for
70
what she saw must come,
And piteous
plainings
71
of the pretty babes,
That mourned
for fashion
72
, ignorant what to fear,
Forced me to seek
delays
73
for them and me.
And this
it was
74
— for other means was none —
The sailors sought for safety by our
boat
75
,
And left the ship, then
sinking-ripe
76
, to us.
My wife, more
careful
for the
latter-born
77
,
Had fastened him unto a small spare mast,
Such as seafaring men provide for storms:
To him one of the other twins was bound,
Whilst I had been
like
81
heedful of the other.
The children thus disposed, my wife and I,
Fixing our eyes on
whom
83
our care was fixed,
Fastened ourselves at ei
the
84
r end the mast,
And floating
straight
, obedient to the
stream
85
,
Was carried towards
Corinth
86
, as we thought.
At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,
Dispersed those
vapours
that
offended
88
us,
And by the
benefit
89
of his wishèd light,
The seas waxed calm, and we discoverèd
Two ships from far, making
amain
91
to us,
Of Corinth that, of
Epidaurus
92
this.
But
ere
93
they came — O, let me say no more.
Gather the sequel by
that
94
went before.
DUKE
Nay,
forward
95
, old man, do not break off so,
For we may pity, though not pardon thee.
EGEON
O, had the gods done so, I had not now
Worthily
98
termed them merciless to us:
For ere the ships could
meet by
twice five leagues
99
,
We were encountered by a mighty rock,
Which being violently borne up 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
105
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
seized on us
111
,
And knowing whom it was their
hap
112
to save,
Gave healthful welcome to their shipwrecked guests,
And would have
reft the fishers of their prey
114
,
Had not their
bark
115
been very slow of sail,
And therefore homeward did they bend their course.
Thus have you heard me severed from my bliss,
That by misfortunes was my life prolonged,
To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.
DUKE
And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,
Do me the favour to
dilate
121
at full
What have
befall’n of
122
them and thee till now.
EGEON
My youngest boy, and yet my
eldest
123
care,
At eighteen years became inquisitive
After
his brother, and
importuned
125
me
That his
attendant
— for his case was
like
126
,
Reft of his brother, but retained his name
127
—
Might bear him company in the quest
of
128
him:
Whom whilst I
laboured of a love
129
to see,
I
hazarded the loss of whom I loved.
130
Five summers have I spent in farthest Greece,
Roaming
clean
through the
bounds
132
of Asia,
And
coasting
133
homeward, came to Ephesus,
Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought
Or
135
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
138
me they live.
DUKE
Hapless
139
Egeon, whom the fates have marked
To bear the extremity of dire mishap.
Now trust me, were it not against our laws,
Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,
Which princes,
would they
, may not
disannul
143
,
My soul should
sue
144
as advocate for thee.
But, though thou art
adjudgèd
145
to the death,
And passèd sentence may not be recalled
But to
our honour’s great
disparagement
147
,
Yet will I favour thee in what I can;
Therefore, merchant, I’ll
limit
149
thee this day
To seek thy
health
150
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
156
,
But to
procrastinate
157
his lifeless end.
Exeunt
running scene 1 continues
Enter
Antipholus
[
of Syracuse
],
a Merchant
[
of Ephesus
]
and
Dromio
[
of Syracuse
]
MERCHANT OF EPHESUS
Therefore
give out
1
you are of Epidamium,
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
5
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.
8
Gives money
To Dromio
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Go bear it to
the Centaur
, where we
host
9
,
And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee.
Within this hour it will be
dinner-time.
11
Till that, I’ll view the
manners
12
of the town,
Peruse
13
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.
18
Exit
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
A trusty
villain
, sir, that very
oft
19
,
When I am dull with
care
20
and melancholy,
Lightens my
humour
21
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.
25
I crave your pardon.
Soon at
26
five o’clock,
Please you, I’ll meet with you upon the mart,
And afterward
consort
28
you till bed-time.
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.
32
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 a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to
find his fellow forth
37
—
Unseen
, inquisitive —
confounds
38
himself.
So I, to find a mother and a brother,
In quest of them,
unhappy
40
, lose myself.