Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; that Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. Men. O thou un taught! What manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; And then will I be general of your woes, And lead you even to death: mean time forbear, Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means Or, in my cell there would she kill herself. The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, • Seat. And she, too desperate, would not go with me, Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. Where's Romeo's man? What can he say in this. Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.Where is the county's page, that raised the watch ? Sirrah, what made your master in this place? Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; And bid me stand aloof, and so do I: Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, Their course of love, the tidings of her death: And I, for winking at your discords too, Mon. But I can give thee more: Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun for sorrow will not shew his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe, Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. • Mercutio and Paris. [Exeunt. ACT I. SCENE I-A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, ÆGEON, GAOLER, Officers, and other Attendants. Ege. Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, If any, born at Ephesus, be seen Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose: To quit the penalty, and to ransome him. My woes end likewise with the evening sun. Duke. Well, Syracusan, say, in brief, the cause Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: In Syracusa was I born; and wed Unto a woman, happy but for me, And by me too, had not our hap been bad. 1 Natural affection. A joyful mother of two goodly sons; And, which was strange, the one so like the other, Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, Did but convey unto our fearful minds A doubtful warrant of inmediate death; Which, though myself would gladly have em braced, Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, But ere they came,-0, let me say no more! For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Age. O, had the gods done so, I had not now Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst, ་ Was carried with more speed before the wind; And therefore homeward did they bend their course. Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Do me the favour to dilate at full What hath befall'n of them, and thee, till now. To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, And live; if not, then thou art doom'd to die:- Ege. Hopeless, and helpless, doth Egeon wendt, Bat 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 Epidam num, 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. And afterwards consort you till bed-time; Commends me to the thing I cannot get. Here comes the almanack of my true date.What now? How chance, thou art return'd so soon? Dro. E. Return'd so soon I rather approach'd too late; The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; 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,-six-pence, that I had o' Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ;- Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: 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. Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: me. Ant. S. Come on, Sir knave, have done your foolishness, And tell me, how thou hast disposed thy change. Home to your house, the Phoenix, Sir, to dinner; Ant. 8. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, Ant. S. Go bear it to the Centaurs, where we Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? host, And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. Dro. S. Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner, [Exit Dro. S. And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. 8. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, 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, Of whom I hope to make much benefit; I crave your pardon. Soon, at five o'clock, Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart¶, 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 Dromio Eph. Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other, The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. They say, this town is full of cozenage; As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye, 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: A man is master of his liberty: Time is their master; and, when they see time, Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more! Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed. Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. where ? Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear. Adr. Patience unmoved, no marvel though she pause; They can be meek, that have no other cause. 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? Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's stark mad: When I desired him to come home to dinner, 1. e. Scarce stand under them. Dro. E. Quoth my master: I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress ‚— I thank him, I bear 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 pate across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you I shall have a holy head. Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy master home. Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus ? You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. [Exit. Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? Then he hath wasted it: Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait That's not my fault, he's master of my state What ruins are in me that can be found By him not ruin'd? Then is he the ground Of my defeatures: my decayed fair A sunny look of his would soon repair: But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale t. Luc. Self-arming jealousy !-Fie, heat it hence. Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dis pense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; SCENE IL-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of SYRACUSB. I could not speak with Dromio, since at first How now, Sir? Is your merry humour alter'd! 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, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's re ceipt; And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; teeth f that. Think'st thou, I jest? Hold, take thou that, and [Beating him. Fair, for fairness. § Hinders. • Alteration of features. Stalking-horse. 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 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, 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 ase 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 an I 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 ume? Dro. S. No, Sir; I think, the meat wants that Ant. S. In good time, Sir, what's that 1 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 yon 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 a 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. 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 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. Ant. S. Nay, not sound, I pray you. 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 recover hair lost by nature. Ant. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. • i. e. Intrude on them when you please. + Study my countenance. A scone was a fortification. 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; Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects, The time was once, when thou unurged wouldst vow, As take from me thyself, and not me too. I know thou canst; and therefore, see, thou do it. Ant. S. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know Dro. 8. By me? Adr. By thee: and, this thou didst return from him, That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, Ant. S. Did you converse, Sir, with this gentlewoman? What is the course and drift of your compact! 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, 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, 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, briar, or idlet 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: What, was I married to her in my dream? |