The Comedy of Errors, William Shakespeare [love letters to the dead TXT] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
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Ant. S. What, thou meanest an officer?
Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that thinks a man always going to bed, and says, ’God give you 30 good rest!’
Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone?
Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since, that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were 35 you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you.
Ant. S. The fellow is distract, and so am I;
And here we wander in illusions:
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
Enter a Courtezan.40 Cour. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
Is that the chain you promised me to-day?
Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
Dro. S. Master, is this Mistress Satan?
45 Ant. S. It is the devil.
Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil’s dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes that the wenches say, ‘God damn me;’ that’s as much to say, ‘God make me a light wench.’ It is written, 50 they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her.
Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here?
55 Dro. S. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat; or bespeak a long spoon.
Ant. S. Why, Dromio?
Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
60 Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! what tell’st thou me of supping?
Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress:
I conjure thee to leave me and be gone.
Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised,
65 And I’ll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Dro. S. Some devils ask but the parings of one’s nail,
A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
A nut, a cherry-stone;
But she, more covetous, would have a chain.
70 Master, be wise: an if you give it her,
The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.
Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain:
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
Ant. S. Avaunt, thou witch! —Come, Dromio, let us go.
75 Dro. S. ‘Fly pride,’ says the peacock: mistress, that you know.
Exeunt Ant. S. and Dro. S.
Cour. Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
Else would he never so demean himself.
A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
And for the same he promised me a chain:
80 Both one and other he denies me now.
The reason that I gather he is mad,—
Besides this present instance of his rage,—
Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner,
Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.
85 Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits,
On purpose shut the doors against his way.
My way is now to his home to his house,
And tell his wife that, being lunatic,
He rush’d into my house, and took perforce
90 My ring away. This course I fittest choose;
For forty ducats is too much to lose. Exit.
IV. 4 Scene IV. A street. Enter Antipholus of Ephesus and the Officer.Ant. E. Fear me not, man; I will not break away:
I’ll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money,
To warrant thee, as I am ’rested for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to-day,
5 And will not lightly trust the messenger.
That I should be attach’d in Ephesus,
I tell you, ’twill sound harshly in her ears.
Enter Dromio of Ephesus with a ropes-end.Here comes my man; I think he brings the money.
How now, sir! have you that I sent you for?
10 Dro. E. Here’s that, I warrant you, will pay them all.
Ant. E. But where’s the money?
Dro. E. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope.
Ant. E. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope?
Dro. E. I’ll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate.
15 Ant. E. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?
Dro. E. To a rope’s-end, sir; and to that end am I returned.
Ant. E. And to that end, sir, I will welcome you. Beating him.
Off. Good sir, be patient.
20 Dro. E. Nay, ’tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.
Off. Good, now, hold thy tongue.
Dro. E. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands.
Ant. E. Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
Dro. E. I would I were senseless, sir, that I might not 25 feel your blows.
Ant. E. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass.
Dro. E. I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have served him from the hour of my nativity 30 to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm, he cools me with beating: I am waked with it when I sleep; raised with it when I sit; driven out of doors with it when I go from home; welcomed home 35 with it when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door.
Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.
Enter Adriana, Luciana, the Courtezan, and Pinch.Dro. E. Mistress, ‘respice finem,’ respect your end; or 40 rather, the prophecy like the parrot, ‘beware the rope’s-end.’
Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk? Beating him.
Cour. How say you now? is not your husband mad?
Adr. His incivility confirms no less.
Good Doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer;
45 Establish him in his true sense again,
And I will please you what you will demand.
Luc. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks!
Cour. Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy!
Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.
50 Ant. E. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear. Striking him.
Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man,
To yield possession to my holy prayers,
And to thy state of darkness his thee straight:
I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven!
55 Ant. E. Peace, doting wizard, peace! I am not mad.
Adr. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul!
Ant. E. You minion, you, are these your customers?
Did this companion with the saffron face
Revel and feast it at my house to-day,
60 Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut,
And I denied to enter in my house?
Adr. O husband, God doth know you dined at home;
Where would you had remain’d until this time,
Free from these slanders and this open shame!
65 Ant. E. Dined at home!—Thou villain, what sayest thou?
Dro. E. Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at home.
Ant. E. Were not my doors lock’d up, and I shut out?
Dro. E. Perdie, your doors were lock’d, and you shut out.
Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there?
70 Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself reviled you there.
Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?
Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn’d you.
Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence?
Dro. E. In verity you did; my bones bear witness,
75 That since have felt the vigour of his rage.
Adr. Is’t good to soothe him in these contraries?
Pinch. It is no shame: the fellow finds his vein,
And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy.
Ant. E. Thou hast suborn’d the goldsmith to arrest me.
80 Adr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you,
By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.
Dro. E. Money by me! heart and good-will you might;
But surely, master, not a rag of money.
Ant. E. Went’st not thou to her for a purse of ducats?
85 Adr. He came to me, and I deliver’d it.
Luc. And I am witness with her that she did.
Dro. E. God and the rope-maker bear me witness
That I was sent for nothing but a rope!
Pinch. Mistress, both man and master is possess’d;
90 I know it by their pale and deadly looks:
They must be bound, and laid in some dark room.
Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst them lock me forth to-day?
And why dost thou deny the bag of gold?
Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth.
95 Dro. E. And, gentle master, I received no gold;
But I confess, sir, that we were lock’d out.
Adr. Dissembling villain, them speak’st false in both.
Ant. E. Dissembling harlot, them art false in all,
And art confederate with a damned pack
100 To make a loathsome abject scorn of me:
But with these nails I’ll pluck out these false eyes,
That would behold in me this shameful sport.
Enter three or four, and offer to bind him. He strives.Adr. O, bind him, bind him! let him not come near me.
Pinch. More company! The fiend is strong within him.
105 Luc. Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!
Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, thou,
I am thy prisoner: wilt thou suffer them
To make a rescue?
Off.
Masters, let him go:
He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
110 Pinch. Go bind this man, for he is frantic too. They offer to bind Dro. E.
Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?
Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
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