The Comedy of Errors |
Shakespeare homepage
| Comedy of Errors
| Act 2, Scene 2
Previous scene | Next scene |
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse
ANTIPHOLUSOF SYRACUSE
The gold I gave to Dromio is laid upDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
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
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 received no gold?
Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,
That thus so madly thou didst answer me?
What answer, sir? when spake I such a word?OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Even now, even here, not half an hour since.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
I did not see you since you sent me hence,OF SYRACUSE
Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
ANTIPHOLUS
Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt,DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner;
For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased.
I am glad to see you in this merry vein:OF SYRACUSE
What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.
ANTIPHOLUS
Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that.
Beating him
Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest:OF SYRACUSE
Upon what bargain do you give it me?
ANTIPHOLUS
Because that I familiarly sometimesDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
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 demeanor to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your sconce.
Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, IOF SYRACUSE
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 am I beaten?
ANTIPHOLUS
Dost thou not know?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Shall I tell you why?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hathOF SYRACUSE
a wherefore.
ANTIPHOLUS
Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore--DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
For urging it the second time to me.
Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,OF SYRACUSE
When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme
nor reason?
Well, sir, I thank you.
ANTIPHOLUS
Thank me, sir, for what?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing forDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?
No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
In good time, sir; what's that?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Basting.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Your reason?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Lest it make you choleric and purchase me anotherOF SYRACUSE
dry basting.
ANTIPHOLUS
Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's aDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
time for all things.
I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
By what rule, sir?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain baldOF SYRACUSE
pate of father Time himself.
ANTIPHOLUS
Let's hear it.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
There's no time for a man to recover his hair thatOF SYRACUSE
grows bald by nature.
ANTIPHOLUS
May he not do it by fine and recovery?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover theOF SYRACUSE
lost hair of another man.
ANTIPHOLUS
Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is,DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
so plentiful an excrement?
Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts;OF SYRACUSE
and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit.
ANTIPHOLUS
Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he losethOF SYRACUSE
it in a kind of jollity.
ANTIPHOLUS
For what reason?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
For two; and sound ones too.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Nay, not sound, I pray you.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Sure ones, then.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Certain ones then.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Name them.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
The one, to save the money that he spends inOF SYRACUSE
trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not
drop in his porridge.
ANTIPHOLUS
You would all this time have proved there is noDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
time for all things.
Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hairOF SYRACUSE
lost by nature.
ANTIPHOLUS
But your reason was not substantial, why there is noDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
time to recover.
Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and thereforeOF SYRACUSE
to the world's end will have bald followers.
ANTIPHOLUS
I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion:ADRIANA
But, soft! who wafts us yonder?
Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA
Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown:OF SYRACUSE
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects;
I am not Adriana nor thy wife.
The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste,
Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee.
How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,
That thou art thus estranged from thyself?
Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
That, undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear self's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thyself from me!
For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
And take unmingled that same drop again,
Without addition or diminishing,
As take from me thyself and not me too.
How dearly would it touch me to the quick,
Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious
And that this body, consecrate to thee,
By ruffian lust should be contaminate!
Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me
And hurl the name of husband in my face
And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow
And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?
I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it.
I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;
My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:
For if we too be one and thou play false,
I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed;
I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured.
ANTIPHOLUS
Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not:LUCIANA
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,
Want wit in all one word to understand.
Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you!OF SYRACUSE
When were you wont to use my sister thus?
She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
ANTIPHOLUS
By Dromio?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
By me?ADRIANA
By thee; and this thou didst return from him,OF SYRACUSE
That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows,
Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
ANTIPHOLUS
Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
What is the course and drift of your compact?
I, sir? I never saw her till this time.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Villain, thou liest; for even her very wordsDROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.
I never spake with her in all my life.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
How can she thus then call us by our names,ADRIANA
Unless it be by inspiration.
How ill agrees it with your gravityOF SYRACUSE
To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
Be it my wrong you are from me exempt,
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:
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.
ANTIPHOLUS
To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme:LUCIANA
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.
Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner.LUCIANA
This is the fairy land: O spite of spites!
We talk with goblins, owls and sprites:
If we obey them not, this will ensue,
They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.
Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!
I am transformed, master, am I not?OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
I think thou art in mind, and so am I.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.OF SYRACUSE
ANTIPHOLUS
Thou hast thine own form.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
No, I am an ape.LUCIANA
If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass.DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass.ADRIANA
'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be
But I should know her as well as she knows me.
Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,OF SYRACUSE
To put the finger in the eye and weep,
Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn.
Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate.
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.
ANTIPHOLUS
Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
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.
Master, shall I be porter at the gate?ADRIANA
Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.LUCIANA
Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.
Exeunt
Shakespeare homepage | Comedy of Errors | Act 2, Scene 2
Previous scene | Next scene