The Comedy of Errors The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [9 vols.] · William Shakespeare
NOTES: II, 1.
The house ... Ephesus.] Pope. The same (i.e. A publick place). Capell, and passim. 11: _o’ door_] Capell. _adore_ F1 F2 F3. _adoor_ F4. 12: _ill_] F2 F3 F4. _thus_ F1. 15: _lash’d_] _leashed_ “a learned lady” conj. ap. Steevens. _lach’d_ or _lac’d_ Becket conj. 17: _bound, ... sky:_] _bound: ... sky,_ Anon. conj. 19: _subjects_] _subject_ Capell. 20, 21: _Men ... masters ... Lords_] Hanmer. _Man ... master ... Lord_ Ff. 21: _wild watery_] _wilde watry_ F1. _wide watry_ F2 F3 F4. 22, 23: _souls ... fowls_] F1. _soul ... fowl_ F2 F3 F4. 30: _husband start_] _husband’s heart’s_ Jackson conj. _other where_] _other hare_ Johnson conj. See note (III). 31: _home_] om. Boswell (ed. 1821). 39: _wouldst_] Rowe. _would_ Ff. 40: _see_] _be_ Hanmer. 41: _fool-begg’d_] _fool-egg’d_ Jackson conj. _fool-bagg’d_ Staunton conj. _fool-badged_ Id. conj. 44: SCENE II. Pope. _now_] _yet_ Capell. 45: _Nay_] _At hand? Nay_ Capell. _and_] om. Capell. 45, 46: _two ... two_] _too ... two_ F1. 50-53: _doubtfully_] _doubly_ Collier MS. 53: _withal_] _therewithal_ Capell. _that_] om. Capell, who prints lines 50-54 as four verses ending _feel ... I ... therewithal ... them._ 59: _he is_] _he’s_ Pope. om. Hanmer. 61: _a thousand_] F4. _a hundred_ F1 _a 1000_ F2 F3. 64: _home_] Hanmer. om. Ff.
68: _I know not thy mistress_] _Thy mistress I know not_ Hanmer. _I know not of thy mistress_ Capell. _I know thy mistress not_ Seymour conj. _out on thy mistress_] F1 F4. _out on my mistress_ F2 F3. _’out on thy mistress,’ Quoth he_ Capell. _I know no mistress; out upon thy mistress_ Steevens conj. 70: _Quoth_] _Why, quoth_ Hanmer. 71-74: Printed as prose in Ff. Corrected by Pope. 73: _bare_] _bear_ Steevens. _my_] _thy_ F2. 74: _there_] _thence_ Capell conj. 85: _I last_] _I’m to last_ Anon. conj. [Exit.] F2. 87: SCENE III. Pope. 93: _blunts_] F1. _blots_ F2 F3 F4. 107: _alone, alone_] F2 F3 F4. _alone, a love_ F1. _alone, alas!_ Hanmer. _alone, O love,_ Capell conj. _alone a lone_ Nicholson conj. 110: _yet the_] Ff. _and the_ Theobald. _and tho’_ Hanmer. _yet though_ Collier. 111: _That others touch_] _The tester’s touch_ Anon. (Fras. Mag.) conj. _The triers’ touch_ Singer. _and_] Ff. _yet_ Theobald. _an_ Collier. _though_ Heath conj. 111, 112: _will Wear_] Theobald (Warburton). _will, Where_] F1. 112, 113: F2 F3 F4 omit these two lines. See note (IV). 112: _and no man_] F1. _and so no man_ Theobald. _and e’en so man_ Capell. _and so a man_ Heath conj. 113: _By_] F1. _But_ Theobald. 115: _what’s left away_] _(what’s left away)_ F1. _(what’s left) away_ F2 F3 F4.
_SCENE II. A public place._ _Enter _ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse_._ _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 host’s report. I could not speak with Dromio since at first 5 I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. _Enter _DROMIO of Syracuse_._ How now, sir! is your merry humour alter’d? As you love strokes, so jest with me again. You know no Centaur? you receiv’d no gold? Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? 10 My house was at the Phœnix? Wast thou mad, That thus so madly thou didst answer me? _Dro. S._ What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? _Ant. S._ Even now, even here, not half an hour since. _Dro. S._ I did not see you since you sent me hence, 15 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 displeased. _Dro. S._ I am glad to see you in this merry vein: 20 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? 25 _Ant. S._ Because that I familiarly sometimes 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, 30 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, 35 I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. But, I pray, sir, why am I beaten? _Ant. S._ Dost thou not know? 40 _Dro. S._ Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. _Ant. S._ Shall I tell you why? _Dro. S._ Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath a wherefore. _Ant. S._ Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore,-- 45 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? 50 _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? _Dro. S._ No, sir: I think the meat wants that I have. 55 _Ant. S._ In good time, sir; what’s that? _Dro. S._ Basting. _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? 60 _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 65 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. 70 _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 a periwig, and recover the lost hair of another man. 75 _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. 80 _Ant. S._ Why, but there’s many a man hath more hair than wit. _Dro. S._ Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. _Ant. S._ Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain 85 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. 90 _Ant. S._ Nay, not sound, I pray you. _Dro. S._ Sure ones, then. _Ant. S._ Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. _Dro. S._ Certain ones, then. _Ant. S._ Name them. 95 _Dro. S._ The one, to save the money that he spends in trimming; 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. 100 _Dro. S._ Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature. _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 105 therefore to the world’s end will have bald followers.
_Ant. S._ Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: In Ephesus I am but two hours old, As strange unto your town as to your talk; Who, every word by all my wit being scann’d, Wants wit in all one word to understand. 150 _Luc._ Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you! When were you wont to use my sister thus? She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. _Ant. S._ By Dromio? _Dro. S._ By me? 155 _Adr._ By thee; and this thou didst return from him, That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, Denied my house for his, me for his wife. _Ant. S._ Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? What is the course and drift of your compact? 160 _Dro. S._ I, sir? I never saw her till this time. _Ant. S._ Villain, thou liest; for even her very words Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. _Dro. S._ I never spake with her in all my life. _Ant. S._ How can she thus, then, call us by our names, 165 Unless it be by inspiration. _Adr._ How ill agrees it with your gravity To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, 170 But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate: 175 If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion.
_Ant. S._ To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: 180 What, was I married to her in my dream? Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this? What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? Until I know this sure uncertainty, I’ll entertain the offer’d fallacy. 185 _Luc._ Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. _Dro. S._ O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. This is the fairy land;--O spite of spites! We talk with goblins, owls, and sprites: If we obey them not, this will ensue, 190 They’ll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. _Luc._ Why pratest thou to thyself, and answer’st not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! _Dro. S._ I am transformed, master, am I not? _Ant. S._ I think thou art in mind, and so am I. 195 _Dro. S._ Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. _Ant. S._ Thou hast thine own form. _Dro. S._ No, I am an ape. _Luc._ If thou art chang’d to aught, ’tis to an ass. _Dro. S._ ’Tis true; she rides me, and I long for grass. ’Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be 200 But I should know her as well as she knows me. _Adr._ Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep, Whilst man and master laughs my woes to scorn. Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. 205 Husband, I’ll dine above with you to-day, And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well. 210 _Ant. S._ Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? Known unto these, and to myself disguised! I’ll say as they say, and persever so, And in this mist at all adventures go. 215 _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._
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