Enter Luciana with Antipholus of Syracuse. LUCIANA
And may it be that you have quite forgot
A husband’s office? Shall, Antipholus,
Even in the spring of love thy love-springs rot?
Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous?
If you did wed my sister for her wealth, 5
Then for her wealth’s sake use her with more
kindness.
Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth —
Muffle your false love with some show of
blindness. 10
Let not my sister read it in your eye;
Be not thy tongue thy own shame’s orator;
Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty;
Apparel vice like virtue’s harbinger.
Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted. 15
Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint.
Be secret-false. What need she be acquainted?
What simple thief brags of his own attaint?
’Tis double wrong to truant with your bed
And let her read it in thy looks at board. 20
Shame hath a bastard fame, well managèd;
Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word.
Alas, poor women, make us but believe,
Being compact of credit, that you love us.
Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve; 25
We in your motion turn, and you may move us.
Then, gentle brother, get you in again.
Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife.
’Tis holy sport to be a little vain
When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. 30 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Sweet mistress—what your name is else I know not,
Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine—
Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not
Than our Earth’s wonder, more than Earth divine.
Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak. 35
Lay open to my earthy gross conceit,
Smothered in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,
The folded meaning of your words’ deceit.
Against my soul’s pure truth why labor you
To make it wander in an unknown field? 40
Are you a god? Would you create me new?
Transform me, then, and to your power I’ll yield.
But if that I am I, then well I know
Your weeping sister is no wife of mine,
Nor to her bed no homage do I owe. 45
Far more, far more, to you do I decline.
O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note
To drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.
Sing, Siren, for thyself, and I will dote.
Spread o’er the silver waves thy golden hairs, 50
And as a bed I’ll take them and there lie,
And in that glorious supposition think
He gains by death that hath such means to die.
Let love, being light, be drownèd if she sink. LUCIANA
What, are you mad that you do reason so? 55 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Not mad, but mated—how, I do not know. LUCIANA
It is a fault that springeth from your eye. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by. LUCIANA
Gaze when you should, and that will clear your
sight. 60 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night. LUCIANA
Why call you me “love”? Call my sister so. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Thy sister’s sister. LUCIANA That’s my sister. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE No, 65
It is thyself, mine own self’s better part,
Mine eye’s clear eye, my dear heart’s dearer heart,
My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope’s aim,
My sole Earth’s heaven, and my heaven’s claim. LUCIANA
All this my sister is, or else should be. 70 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Call thyself “sister,” sweet, for I am thee.
Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life;
Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife.
Give me thy hand. LUCIANA O soft, sir. Hold you still. 75
I’ll fetch my sister to get her goodwill. She exits. | Still at E. Antipholus’s house, the confusion we’ve just seen outside is almost as bad as the confusion going on inside. S. Antipholus has just had dinner with Adriana (E. Antipholus’s wife) and Luciana (Adriana’s sister). Dinner must’ve been pretty good (and merrily drunk), because S. Antipholus has presently declared his love for Luciana. (Awkward!!!) Luciana wonders just how E. Antipholus can turn from loving his wife (her sister) to being in love with someone else. Luciana doesn’t tell him to be faithful, exactly. Instead, she recommends that if he does love another, that he do it stealthily, as it’s one things to cheat on your wife, but it's even worse to let the poor woman know about it. According to Luciana, a man should hide his infidelity for his wife’s sake. Luciana deflects S. Antipholus's advances, but S. Antipholus is undeterred. He wonders aloud how Luciana even knows his name. He admits he doesn’t know hers, and says that she must be some divine creature. He pleads with her to be his mentor, and teach him the ways of the world and himself. Finally, S. Antipholus asserts (truthfully) that he has no wife, and Luciana has no husband, so they should be together. Luciana is weirded out and runs off to try to comfort her sister, who is apparently weeping because of S. Antiphols's indifference to her. |
Enter Dromio of Syracuse, running. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Why, how now, Dromio.
Where runn’st thou so fast? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Do you know me, sir? Am I
Dromio? Am I your man? Am I myself? 80 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Thou art Dromio, thou art
my man, thou art thyself. DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I am an ass, I am a woman’s
man, and besides myself. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What woman’s man? And 85
how besides thyself? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, besides myself I am
due to a woman, one that claims me, one that
haunts me, one that will have me. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
What claim lays she to thee? 90 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Marry, sir, such claim as you
would lay to your horse, and she would have me as
a beast; not that I being a beast she would have me,
but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays
claim to me. 95 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What is she? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE A very reverend body, ay, such a
one as a man may not speak of without he say
“sir-reverence.” I have but lean luck in the match,
and yet is she a wondrous fat marriage. 100 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE How dost thou mean a “fat
marriage”? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, she’s the kitchen
wench, and all grease, and I know not what use to
put her to but to make a lamp of her and run from 105
her by her own light. I warrant her rags and the
tallow in them will burn a Poland winter. If she lives
till doomsday, she’ll burn a week longer than the
whole world. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What complexion is she of? 110 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Swart like my shoe, but her face
nothing like so clean kept. For why? She sweats. A
man may go overshoes in the grime of it. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE That’s a fault that water will
mend. 115 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No, sir, ’tis in grain; Noah’s flood
could not do it. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What’s her name? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Nell, sir, but her name and
three quarters—that’s an ell and three quarters— 120
will not measure her from hip to hip. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Then she bears some
breadth? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No longer from head to foot than
from hip to hip. She is spherical, like a globe. I 125
could find out countries in her. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE In what part of her body
stands Ireland? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, in her buttocks. I
found it out by the bogs. 130 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where Scotland? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I found it by the barrenness,
hard in the palm of the hand. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where France? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE In her forehead, armed and 135
reverted, making war against her heir. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where England? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I looked for the chalky cliffs, but
I could find no whiteness in them. But I guess it
stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran 140
between France and it. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where Spain? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Faith, I saw it not, but I felt it hot
in her breath. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where America, the Indies? 145 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE O, sir, upon her nose, all o’erembellished
with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires,
declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of
Spain, who sent whole armadas of carracks to be
ballast at her nose. 150 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where stood Belgia, the
Netherlands? DROMIO OF SYRACUSE O, sir, I did not look so low. To
conclude: this drudge or diviner laid claim to me,
called me Dromio, swore I was assured to her, told 155
me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark
of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart
on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a
witch.
And, I think, if my breast had not been made of 160
faith, and my heart of steel,
She had transformed me to a curtal dog and made
me turn i’ th’ wheel. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Go, hie thee presently. Post to the road.
An if the wind blow any way from shore, 165
I will not harbor in this town tonight.
If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
Where I will walk till thou return to me.
If everyone knows us, and we know none,
’Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be gone. 170 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly I from her that would be my wife. He exits. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
There’s none but witches do inhabit here,
And therefore ’tis high time that I were hence.
She that doth call me husband, even my soul 175
Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister,
Possessed with such a gentle sovereign grace,
Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
Hath almost made me traitor to myself.
But lest myself be guilty to self wrong, 180
I’ll stop mine ears against the mermaid’s song. | S. Dromio runs in, out of breath. S. Dromio says this woman, the unattractive kitchen wench, claims that he’s her man. Though the girl’s not appealing, she did know Dromio by name. Even creepier, she knew about all the marks and moles on his body. This is no woman to bring home to mom (if he had one), so Dromio ran from her as though she were a witch. S. Antipholus has clearly had enough, and his plan is to get out of this crazy town. He sends S. Dromio to go find out if any ships are leaving immediately. He’d rather not spend the night in this creepy place that’s clearly enchanted by witches and full of awful women who claim he and Dromio for their husbands. S. Antipholus will be a little sad to leave Luciana, who has enchanted him, but he knows he has to go. |
Enter Angelo with the chain. ANGELO
Master Antipholus. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Ay, that’s my name. ANGELO
I know it well, sir. Lo, here’s the chain.
I thought to have ta’en you at the Porpentine; 185
The chain unfinished made me stay thus long. He gives Antipholus a chain. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
What is your will that I shall do with this? ANGELO
What please yourself, sir. I have made it for you. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
Made it for me, sir? I bespoke it not. ANGELO
Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have. 190
Go home with it, and please your wife withal,
And soon at supper time I’ll visit you
And then receive my money for the chain. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
I pray you, sir, receive the money now,
For fear you ne’er see chain nor money more. 195 ANGELO
You are a merry man, sir. Fare you well. He exits. ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
What I should think of this I cannot tell,
But this I think: there’s no man is so vain
That would refuse so fair an offered chain.
I see a man here needs not live by shifts 200
When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
I’ll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay.
If any ship put out, then straight away. He exits. | Now, Angelo the goldsmith shows up with E. Antipholus’s gold chain for his wife. He mistakes S. Antipholus for E. Antipholus, and happily gives him the chain, so glad to meet him before he went to the Porpentine. Of course, S. Antipholus has no idea what’s going on, but he doesn’t refuse the necklace because it’s pretty. He tries to pay Angelo on the spot, but Angelo refuses (thinking E. Antipholus will pay him later). S. Antipholus, thinking golden gifts are raining from the sky, decides to accept his gift. He’ll meet Dromio at the marketplace and leave Ephesus as soon as possible. |