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The Comedy of Errors
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  • ACT II SCENE II

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II 
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II 
     Act III Scene I 
     Act III Scene II  
    
    
    
     Act IV  Scene I  
     Act IV  Scene II 
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Complete play
    


     Act II 

    
    ACT II: SCENE II	A public place.
    
    	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 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?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	What answer, sir? when spake I such a 
    	word?
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Even now, even here, not half an hour since.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I did not see you since you sent 
    	me hence,
    	Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt,
    	And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner;
    	For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I am glad to see you in this merry vein:
    	What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?
    	Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that.
    
    	Beating him
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest 
            is earnest:
    	Upon what bargain do you give it me?
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	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 demeanor to my looks,
    	Or I will beat this method in your sconce.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Sconce call you it? so you would leave
    	battering, I 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
    OF SYRACUSE	Dost thou not know?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Shall I tell you why?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say 
    	every why hath a wherefore.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, 
    	wherefore--
    	For urging it the second time to me.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	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.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Thank me, sir, for what?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, sir, for this something that you 
    	gave me for nothing.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing 
    	for something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No, sir; I think the meat wants that I 
    	have.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	In good time, sir; what's that?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Basting.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none 
    	of it.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Your reason?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Lest it make you choleric and purchase 
    	me another dry basting.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a
    	time for all things.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I durst have denied that, before you 
    	were so choleric.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	By what rule, sir?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the 
    	plain bald pate of father Time himself.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Let's hear it.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	There's no time for a man to recover 
    	his hair that grows bald by nature.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	May he not do it by fine and recovery?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and 
    	recover the lost hair of another man.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, 
    	as it is, so plentiful an excrement?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Because it is a blessing that he bestows on 
    	beasts; and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given 
    	them in wit.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	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.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers 
    	without wit.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he 
    	loseth it in a kind of jollity.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	For what reason?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	For two; and sound ones too.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Nay, not sound, I pray you.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Sure ones, then.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Certain ones then.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Name them.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	The one, to save the money that he spends 
    	in trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not
    	drop in his porridge.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	You would all this time have proved there is no
    	time for all things.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to 
    	recover hair lost by nature.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	But your reason was not substantial, why there is 
    	no time to recover.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and 
    	therefore to the world's end will have bald followers.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion:
    	But, soft! who wafts us yonder?
    
    	Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA
    
    ADRIANA	Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown:
    	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
    OF SYRACUSE	Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not:
    	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.
    
    LUCIANA	Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you!
    	When were you wont to use my sister thus?
    	She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	By Dromio?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	By me?
    
    ADRIANA	By thee; and this thou didst return from him,
    	That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows,
    	Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?
    	What is the course and drift of your compact?
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I, sir? I never saw her till this time.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	Villain, thou liest; for even her very words
    	Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I never spake with her in all my life.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	How can she thus then call us by our names,
    	Unless it be by inspiration.
    
    ADRIANA	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, brier, or idle moss;
    	Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion
    	Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme:
    	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.
    
    LUCIANA	Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner.
    	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.
    
    LUCIANA	Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not?
    	Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I am transformed, master, am I not?
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	I think thou art in mind, and so am I.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
    
    ANTIPHOLUS
    OF SYRACUSE	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.
    	'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be
    	But I should know her as well as she knows me.
    
    ADRIANA	Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
    	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
    OF SYRACUSE	Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
    	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.
    
    DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	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
    
    
    

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