A Novel Approach to Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors, Page 2
Catherine McGrew Jaime
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, For with long travel I am stiff and weary. Get thee away.”
Dromio nods to Antipholus. “Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean.”
After watching his servant depart, Antipholus turns to the merchant. “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?”
“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 And afterward consort you till bed-time: My present business calls me from you now.”
Antipholus responds, “Farewell till then: I will go lose myself And wander up and down to view the city.”
“Sir, I commend you to your own content.”
“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.”
Antipholus is interrupted in the midst of his melancholy thoughts by the entrance of Dromio (of Ephesus). Mistaking this Dromio for his own servant, Antipholus inquires angrily of him, “What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon?”
Dromio (of Ephesus) is a bit surprised by Antipholus’ greeting. Mistaking this Antipholus for his own master, he responds just as rudely, “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.”
“Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: Where have you left the money that I gave you?”
“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.”
“I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how darest thou trust so great a charge from thine own custody?”
“I pray you, air, 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.”
“Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?”
By now, Dromio (of Ephesus) is beginning to doubt his master’s sanity, and responds gruffly, “To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.”
Antipholus (of Syracuse) responds just as gruffly back to “his servant,” “Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge.”
“My charge was but to fetch you from the mart Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: My mistress and her sister stays for you.”
“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 undisposed: Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?”
“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.”
Now Antipholus (of Syracuse) is really getting angry. “Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?”
Meanwhile Dromio (of Ephesus) is extremely confused by Antipholus’ questions and behavior. “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) strikes Dromio (of Ephesus). “What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.”
“What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.”
With that, Dromio rushes away from the marketplace, leaving behind a very perplexed Antipholus (of Syracuse). “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'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: I greatly fear my money is not safe.”
Then Antipholus stomps off too, wondering what has become of his servant’s mind and his own gold!
SCENE THREE
Adriana and Luciana are in their house, discussing Antipholus’ delay in returning. Adrianna speaks to her sister, showing the stress in her voice, “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.”
Luciana responds carefully trying to calm her sister’s concerns, “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, They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister.”
“Why should their liberty than ours be more?”
“Because their business still lies out o' door.”
“Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.”
“O, know he is the bridle of your will.”
“There's none but asses will be bridled so.”
“Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: 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 watery seas, Endued with intellectual sense and souls, Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, Are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords.”
“Were you wedded, you would bear some sway.”
“Ere I learn love, I'll practice to obey.”
“How if your husband start some other where?”
“Till he come home again, I would forbear.”
“Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; They can be meek that have no other cause. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much or more would we ourselves complain: So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, But, if thou live to see like right bereft, This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.”
“Well, I will marry one day, but to try. Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh.”
Adriana chides Dromio, “Say, is your tardy master now at hand?”
“Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.
“Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind?”
“Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.”
Luciana tries to question the distressed servant, “Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?”
“Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce understand them.”
Adriana wants to hear news of her tardy husband. “But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to please his wife.”
“Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.”
“Horn-mad, thou villain!”
&
nbsp; “I mean not cuckold-mad; But, sure, he is stark mad. When I desired 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 home?' 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!'”
Luciana interrupts the rambling servant again, “Quoth who?”
“Quoth my master: 'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' So that my errand, due unto my tongue, I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.”
Adriana has had quite enough of Dromio’s nonsensical words. “Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.”
“Go back again, and be new beaten home? Nay, send some other messenger.”
“Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.”
“And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you I shall have a holy head.”
“Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.”
“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.”
As Dromio sulks off, Luciana scolds her sister, “Fie, how impatience loureth in your face!”
“His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty
Dromio nods to Antipholus. “Many a man would take you at your word, And go indeed, having so good a mean.”
After watching his servant depart, Antipholus turns to the merchant. “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?”
“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 And afterward consort you till bed-time: My present business calls me from you now.”
Antipholus responds, “Farewell till then: I will go lose myself And wander up and down to view the city.”
“Sir, I commend you to your own content.”
“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.”
Antipholus is interrupted in the midst of his melancholy thoughts by the entrance of Dromio (of Ephesus). Mistaking this Dromio for his own servant, Antipholus inquires angrily of him, “What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon?”
Dromio (of Ephesus) is a bit surprised by Antipholus’ greeting. Mistaking this Antipholus for his own master, he responds just as rudely, “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.”
“Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: Where have you left the money that I gave you?”
“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.”
“I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how darest thou trust so great a charge from thine own custody?”
“I pray you, air, 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.”
“Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?”
By now, Dromio (of Ephesus) is beginning to doubt his master’s sanity, and responds gruffly, “To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.”
Antipholus (of Syracuse) responds just as gruffly back to “his servant,” “Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge.”
“My charge was but to fetch you from the mart Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: My mistress and her sister stays for you.”
“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 undisposed: Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?”
“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.”
Now Antipholus (of Syracuse) is really getting angry. “Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?”
Meanwhile Dromio (of Ephesus) is extremely confused by Antipholus’ questions and behavior. “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) strikes Dromio (of Ephesus). “What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.”
“What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.”
With that, Dromio rushes away from the marketplace, leaving behind a very perplexed Antipholus (of Syracuse). “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'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: I greatly fear my money is not safe.”
Then Antipholus stomps off too, wondering what has become of his servant’s mind and his own gold!
SCENE THREE
Adriana and Luciana are in their house, discussing Antipholus’ delay in returning. Adrianna speaks to her sister, showing the stress in her voice, “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.”
Luciana responds carefully trying to calm her sister’s concerns, “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, They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister.”
“Why should their liberty than ours be more?”
“Because their business still lies out o' door.”
“Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.”
“O, know he is the bridle of your will.”
“There's none but asses will be bridled so.”
“Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: 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 watery seas, Endued with intellectual sense and souls, Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, Are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords.”
“Were you wedded, you would bear some sway.”
“Ere I learn love, I'll practice to obey.”
“How if your husband start some other where?”
“Till he come home again, I would forbear.”
“Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; They can be meek that have no other cause. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much or more would we ourselves complain: So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, But, if thou live to see like right bereft, This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.”
“Well, I will marry one day, but to try. Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh.”
Adriana chides Dromio, “Say, is your tardy master now at hand?”
“Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.
“Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind?”
“Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.”
Luciana tries to question the distressed servant, “Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?”
“Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce understand them.”
Adriana wants to hear news of her tardy husband. “But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to please his wife.”
“Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.”
“Horn-mad, thou villain!”
&
nbsp; “I mean not cuckold-mad; But, sure, he is stark mad. When I desired 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 home?' 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!'”
Luciana interrupts the rambling servant again, “Quoth who?”
“Quoth my master: 'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' So that my errand, due unto my tongue, I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.”
Adriana has had quite enough of Dromio’s nonsensical words. “Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.”
“Go back again, and be new beaten home? Nay, send some other messenger.”
“Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.”
“And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you I shall have a holy head.”
“Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.”
“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.”
As Dromio sulks off, Luciana scolds her sister, “Fie, how impatience loureth in your face!”
“His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty
