If he be like your brother, [To Isabella] for his sake

Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely sake

Give me your hand, and say you will be mine,
He is my brother too. But fitter time for that.
By this lord Angelo perceives he's safe:
Methinks, I see a quick'ning in his eye.-
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well:
Look that you love your wife; her worth, worth
I find an apt remission in myself, [yours.-
And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.-
You, sirrah, [To Lucio.] that knew me for a
fool, a coward,

One all of luxury, an ass, a madman:
Wherein have I so deserv'd of you,
That you extol me thus ?

Lucio

'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick. If you will hang me for it, you may;

Slandering a prince deserves it. — [store.She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you reJoy to you, Mariana!-love her, Angelo:

I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue.Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:

There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, provost, for thy care, and secrecy;
We shall employ thee in a worthier place. -
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
Th' offence pardons itself. - Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good;
Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,
What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.-
So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show
What's yet behind, that's meet you all should
[Exeunt

know.

ACT I.

SCENE I. A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Enter Slinus Duke of Ephesus, Egcon a Merchant of Syracusa, Jailor, Oficers, and other Attendunts.

Ægeon.

PROCEED, Solinus, to procure my fall,
And by the doom of death end woes and all.
Duke.

Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more.
I am not partial, to infringe our laws:
The enmity and discord, which of late
Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke
To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,
Who, wanting gilders to redeem their lives,
Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their
bloods,-

Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks.
For, since the mortal and intestine jars
"Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us,
It hath in solemn synods been decreed,
Both by the Syracusians and ourselves,
To admit no traffic to our adverse towns:
Nay, more, if any, born at Ephesus,
Be seen at any Syracusian marts and fairs;
Again, if any Syracusian born

Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies;
His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose,
Unless a thousand marks be levied,
To quit the penalty, and to ransom him.
Thy substance, valued at the highest rate,
Cannot amount unto a hundred marks;
Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die.
Egeon.

Yet this my comfort; when your words are done,

My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

Duke.

Well, Syracusian; say, In brief, the cause Why thou departedst from thy native home, And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus. Egeon.

A heavier task could not have been impos'd,
Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable;
Yet, that the world may witness, that my end
Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave.
In Syracusa was I born; and wed
Unto a woman, happy but for me,
And by me too, had not our hap been bad.
With her I liv'd in joy: our wealth increas'd,
To Epidamnum; till my factor's death,
By prosperous voyages I often made
And the great care of goods at random left
Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:
From whom my absence was not six months old,
Before herself (almost at fainting under
The pleasing punishment that women bear)
Had made provision for her following me,
And soon, and safe, arrived where I was.
There had she not been long, but she became
A joyful mother of two goodly sons; [other,
And, which was strange, the one so like the
As could not be distinguish'd but by names.
That very hour, and in the self-same inn,
A poor mean woman was delivered

Of such a burden, male twins, both alike.
Those, for their parents were exceeding poor,
I bought, and brought up to attend my sons.
My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,
Made daily motions for our home return:
Unwilling I agreed. Alas, too soon we came
aboard!

A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd,
Before the always-wind-obeying deep
Gave any tragic instance of our harm:
But longer did we not retain much hope;

For

For what obscured light the heavens did grant
Did but convey unto our fearful minds
A doubtful warrant of immediate death;
Which, though myself would gladly have em-
Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, [brac'd,
Weeping before for what she saw must come,
And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear,
Forc'd me to seek delays for them and me.
And this it was,-for other means was none.-
The sailors sought for safety by our boat,
And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us.
My wife, more careful for the latter-born,
Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast,
Such as sea-faring men provide for storms:
To him one of the other twins was bound,
Whilst I had been like heedful of the other.
The children thus dispos'd, my wife and 1,
Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd,
Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast;
And floating straight, obedient to the stream,
Were carried towards Corinth, as we thought.
At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,
Dispers'd those vapours that offended us,
And by the benefit of his wish'd light
The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered
Two ships from far making amain to us;
Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this:
But ere they came,-O, let me say no more!
Gather the sequel by that went before.

Egeon..

O, had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily term'd them merciless to us! [leagues, For, ere the ships could meet by twice five We were encounter'd by a mighty rock, Which being violently borne 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 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; And knowing whom it was their hap to save, Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd

guests;

Hopeless to find, yet loth to leave unsought Or 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 me they live.

Duke.

To bear the extremity of dire mishap!
Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have mark'd
Now, trust me, were it not against our laws,
Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,
Which princes, would they, may not disannul,
My soul should sue as advocate for thee.
But though thou art adjudged to the death,
And passed sentence may not be recall'd
But to our honour's great disparagement,
Yet will I favour thee in what I can:
Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day,
To seek thy help 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 doom'd to die.-
Jailor, take him to thy custody.

SCENE II. A public Place.

Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse, and

a Merchant. Merchant.

Therefore, give out you are of Epidamnum, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day, a Syracusian 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.

Antipholus of Syracuse,

Go, bear it to the Centaur, where we host, And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. Within this hour it will be dinner-time: Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, And then return and sleep within mine inn, Get thee away. For with long travel I am stiff and weary.

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, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother, and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

Enter Dromio of Ephesus.

Here comes the almanack of my true date. What now? How chance thou art return'd so soon?

Dromio of Ephesus.

Return'd so soon ! rather approach'd too late. The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell My mistress made it one upon my cheek: She is so hot, because the meat is cold: The meat is cold, because you come not home; You come not home, because you have no stomach;

You have no stomach, having broke your fast; But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray, Are penitent for your default to-day.

Antipholus of Syracuse.

Stop in your wind, sir. Tell me this, I pray; Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dromio of Ephesus.

O! sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper. The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.

Antipholus of Syracuse.

I am not in a sportive humour now. Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust So great a charge from thine own custody?

Antipholus of Syracuse.

Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix

She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. Antipholus of Syracuse.

What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave, [Strikes him.

Dromio of Ephesus. What mean you, sir? For God's sake, hold your hands.

Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.

Antipholus of Syracuse.

[Exit.

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, Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind Soul-killing witches that deform the body, Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, And many such like liberties of sin : If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. I greatly fear, my money is not safe. I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave:

ACT II.

SCENE 1. A public Place.

[Exit.

That in such haste I sent to seek his master? Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luciana.

Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him,

Antipholus of Syracuse,

Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, That stands on tricks when I am undíspos'd. Where is the thousand marks thou had'st of me? Dromio of Ephesus.

I have some marks of yours upon my pate: Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, But not a thousand marks between you both. If I should pay your worship those again, Perchance, you will not bear them patiently.

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,
They'll go, or come: if so, be patient, sister.

Adriana.

Why should their liberty than ours be more?
Luciana.
Because their business still lies out o' door.
Adriana.

Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
Luciana.

O! know he is the bridle of your will.
Adriana.
There's none but asses will be bridled so.

Luciana.

Why, head-strong liberty is lashed with woe. But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: There's nothing, situate under heaven's eye, The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their males' subjects, and at their controls. Men, more divine, the masters of all these, Lords of the wide world, and wild wat'ry seas, Indued with intellectual sense and souls, Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,

Are

Patience unmov'd, no marvel though she pause:

They can be meek, that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;

But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain;

So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience would'st relieve But if thou live to see like right bereft, [me: This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. Luciana.

Well, I will marry one day, but to try.Here comes your man: now is your husband nigh.

Enter Dromio of Ephesus.
Adriana.

Say, is your tardy master now at hand?

Dromio of Ephesus.

two ears can witness.

Adriana.

Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait?

But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. Dromio of Ephesus.

Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. Adriana.

Horn-mad, thou villain!

Dromio of Ephesus

I mean not cuckold-mad;

But, sure, he is stark mad. When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; my gold, quoth he:

Will you come, quoth I? my gold, quoth he: Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; my gold, quoth he: My mistress, sir, quoth I; hang up thy mistress; I know not thy mistress: out on thy mistress!

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.

Luciana.

Self-harming jealousy!-fie! beat it hence.
Adriana.

Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. I know his eye doth homage other where,

Or else, what lets it but he would be here?

Sister, you know, he promis'd me a chain:
Would that alone, alone he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!

I see, the jewel best enamelled

Will lose his beauty: yet though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, an often touching will
Wear gold; and no man, that hath a name,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luciana.

How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same.
Enter Antipholus of Syracuse.
Antipholus of Syracuse.

The gold, I gave to Dromio, is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave

Is