Classic Audiobook Collection - The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook [comedy]

Episode Date: April 25, 2025

The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare audiobook. Genre: comedy In the bustling port city of Ephesus, a long-separated family is pulled into a day of wild confusion when two sets of identical twins unknowingly cross paths. Antipholus of Syracuse arrives searching for the brother he has never met, with his loyal servant Dromio at his side. But Ephesus already has an Antipholus and a Dromio - and the city is ready to treat the newcomers as if they belong to lives they do not recognize. Mistaken identities ignite a chain reaction: a sharp-tongued wife demands attention from the wrong husband, creditors close in with growing impatience, and friends, merchants, and law officers all become convinced someone is lying, bewitched, or mad. As the misunderstandings multiply, what begins as a heartfelt search for family turns into a high-speed farce of missed connections, disrupted marriages, and escalating accusations. Behind the slapstick and wordplay, the story probes questions of who we are without our history, how easily society assigns roles, and how fragile reputation can be when appearances rule the day. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:16:51) Chapter 02 (00:35:43) Chapter 03 (00:55:03) Chapter 04 (01:18:35) Chapter 05 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Comedy of Errs by William Shakespeare. Act 1 1 A hall in Duke Solanus's palace. Enter Duke Solonis, Ajan, Galer, Officers, and other attendants. Proceed, Solanus, to procure my fall, And by the doom of death, and woes and all.

Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more. I am not partial to infringe our laws. The enmity in discord, which of late sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke to merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, who wanting guilders to redeem their lives, have sealed his rigorous statutes with their bloods, excludes all pity from our threatening 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 adolph, adverse towns, nay more, if any born at Ephesus be seen, at any Syracusian marks and fares.

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 condemned to die. Yet this my comfort, when your words are done, my woes and likewise with the evening's sun. Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause, why thou departest from thy native home,

and for what cause thou cameest to Ephesus? A heavier task could not have been imposed than I to speak my grief's unspeakable. Yet that the world may witness that my end was wrought by nature, not by vile offense. I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave. In Syracusa was I born, and wed unto a woman happy but for me, and by me had not a hap been bad. With her I lived in joy, our wealth increased by prosperous voyages I often made to epidemnum, till my factor's death, 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, and which was strange, the one so like the others as could not be distinguished but by names. That very hour, and in the self-same inn, a meaner 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 sailed, Before the always winder-beying deep gave any tragic instance of our harm. But longer did we not retain much hope, 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 embraced, Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, Weeping before for what she saw must come, and piteous blanings of the pretty babes that mourned for fashion ignorant what to fear, forced 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 fastened him unto a small spare mast, such as seafaring men provide for storms. To him one of the other two, twins was bound, whilst I had been like heedful of the other. The children thus disposed, my wife and I, fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixed, fastened ourselves at either end of the mast, and floating straight, obedient to the stream, was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, dispersed those vapours that offended us, and by the benefit of his wished light, the seas waxed calm,

and we discovered two ships from far making amain to us, of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this, but ere they came, oh, let me say no more, gather the sequel by that went before. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so, for we may pity, though not pardon thee. Oh, had the gods done so, I had not now worthily termed them merciless to us. For ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, we were

encountered 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 of both of us alike, what to delight in, what to sorrow for. Her part, poor soul, seeming as burned 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 the hap to save, gave healthful welcome to their shipwrecked guests, and would have reft the fishes of their prey,

had not their bark been very slow of sail, and therefore homeward did they bend their course. Thus have you heard me severed from my bliss, that by misfortunes was my life prolonged to tell sad stories of my own mishaps. And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, do me the favour to dialate at full what hath befallen of them and thee till now. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, at eighteen years became inquisitive after his brother,

and impotuned me that his attendant, so his case was like, reft of his brother, but retained his name, might bear him company in the quest of him, whom, whilst I laboured of a love to see, I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, and coasting homeward, came to Ephesus, hopeless to find, yet loath 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 life. my timely death, could all my travels warrant me, they live.

Hapless Aegean, whom the fates have marked to bear the extremity of dire mishap, now, trust me, were it not against our laws, against my crown, my oath, my dignity, which princes would they, may not disannual, my soul would sue as advocate for thee. But though thou art a judge to the death, and pass'd sentence may not be recalled but to our honors great disparagement, yet I will favor thee in what I can. Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day to seek thy life 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 doomed to die. Jailor, take him to thy custody. I will, my lord.

Hopeless and helpless doth Aegean wend, but to procrastinate. his lifeless end exsuent scene two the mart enter antipolis of syracuse dromeo of syracuse and first merchant therefore give out that you are a vipidamnum lest that your goods too should 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. Go, bear it to the centre where we host, and stay there, Jeromeo 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 many a man would take you at your word and go indeed having so good a mean exit a trusty villain sir that perry opt 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 bedtime. My present business calls me from you now. 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. Exit.

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 dromeo of a theseus here comes the almanac of my true date what now how chance thou art return so soon return so soon rather approach too late The cap unburns, the pig falls from the spit.

The clock hath struck in twelve upon the bell. My mistress had 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 is to fast and pray are penitent for your default today. Stop in your wind, sir.

Tell me this, I pray. Where have you left the money that I gave you? "'Oh, sixpence, that I had a Wednesday last, to pay the Sadler for my mistress crepper? "'The Sadler 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, sir, as you sit at dinner, I for my mistress come to you in post.

If I return I shall be post indeed, for she will score your fault upon my pay. Methinks your ma like mine should be your clock, and strike you home without a messenger. Come, Tromio, come, these jests are out of season, preserve them till a merrier hour than this. Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? To me, sir, why you gave no gold to me? 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 bestowed my money, or I shall break that merry sconce of yours that stands on tricks when I am undisposed? Where's the thousand marks, thou hadst of me? I have some marks of yours upon my pate, some of my mistress marks upon my shoulder, But not a thousand marks between you both. If I should pay your worship those again, perchance you would not bear them patiently. Thy mistress marks?

What mistress slave has thou? 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. What? Would thou flood me thus until my face being forbidden? There, take your thought, sonny. What mean you, sir? God's sake hold your hands.

Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. Exit. Upon my life by some device or other, the villain is all wrought of all my money. They say this town is full of cousinage, as nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, dark working sorcerers that change the mind, soul-killing witches that defecutive.

the body. Disguised cheetahs, prating mountebanks, and many such-like liberties of sin. If it proved 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. Exit. End of Act 1. Act 2 of the Comedy of Ayres by William Shakespeare. This is a liverbox

recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Act 2. Scene 1. The House of Antipolis of Ephesus. Enter Adriana and Luciana. Neither my husband, nor the slave returned that in such haste I sent to seek his master. Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, and from the marty is somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine in Neverfrette. 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 a door. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Oh, no, he is the bridle of your will. There's none but asses will be bridled so. Why headstrong liberty is lashed with woe, there's nothing situate under heaven's eye,

but hath his bound in earth and sea and sky, the beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, are their male subjects and at their controls. Men, more divine, the masters of all these, lords of the wide world and wild, watery seas, endowed 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 records. This servitude makes you keep unwed. Not this but troubles of the marriage bed. But were you wedded you would bear some sway?

Ere I learn love I'll practice to obey. How if your husband starts some otherware? Till he come home again I would forbear. Patience unmoved. No, marvel, though she pause. They can be meek that hath no other cause. A wretched soul, bruised by adversity. We bid be quiet when we hear it cry.

but were we burdened, with light weight of pain, as much or more as we ourselves complain? So thou, that hath no unkind mate to grieve thee, with urging helpless patience would relieve me. But, if thou live to see the right bereft, this fool-begged patience in thee will be left. Well, I will marry one day, but to try. Here comes your man, now is your husband nine.

Enter Jeromeo of Ephesus. 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? Aye, aye, he told his mind upon mine ear. Be sure his hand, I scarce could understand it. 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. But say, I pray thee, Is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to please his wife. Why, mistress, sure, my master is horn mad. Horn mad? Thorn mad?

I mean not cuckold mad, but sure he is dark mad. When he desired him to come home to dinner, he asked me for thousand marks and gold. Tis dinner time, quoth I. My gold, quoth he. Your meat doth burn, quoth I. My gold, quoth he. Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain? The pig.

quoth i is burned my gold quoth he my mistress sir quoth i hang up thy mistress i know not thy mistress out upon thy mistress 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 bear home upon my shoulders for in conclusion he did beat me there go back again thy slave and fetch him home go back again and be new beaten home for god God's sake send some other messenger. Back, slave, or I will break thy pay to cross. 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. Exit. Fine, how impatient loreth in your face. His company must do his minions' grace, whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the allurried beauty took from my poor cheek. Then he hath wasted it.

Are my discourse is dull? Barren my wit? If voluble and sharp discourse be mad, 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 ruined. Then he is the ground of my defeatures, my decaying fair, a sunny look he would soon repair. But too unruly dear he breaks the pale, and feeds from home. Poor I am, but is stale. Self-harming jealousy,

fie, beat it hence. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. I know his eye doth homage other where, or else what lets it. He would be here. "'Sister, you know he promised me a chain. "'Would that alone, alone he would detain?' "'So he would keep the fairer quarter in his bed.

"'I see the jewel-best enamelid, will lose his beauty. "'Yet the gold bide still, and others touch, "'and often touching will wear gold, "'and no man that hath his name, "'by falsehood and corruption, death it shame. "'Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, "'I'll weep what's left, away and weeping die how many fond fools serve mad jealousy excellent scene too a public place and gerentopholus of syracuse

the gold i gave to dromeo is laid up safe at the centaur and the heedful slave is wandered forth in care to seek me out by computation and mine hosts 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 humor altered? As you love strokes, so jest with me again.

You know, no, centaur. You receive, no. O gold, your mistress sent to have me home to dinner. My house was at the phoenix? Was thou mad, that thus so madly thou didst answer me? What answer, sir? When spake I such a word? Even now, even here, not half an hour since.

I did not see you since you sent me hence, home to the centaur with the gold you gave me. philm thou didst deny the gold's receipt and toldst me of a mistress and a dinner for which i hope thou feltest i was displeased i am glad to see you in this merry vein what means this jest i pray you master tell me yea dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth think'st thou i jest hold take thou that and that beating him hold sir for god's sake now you're just as earnest upon what bargain do you give it me because that i familiarly sometimes do use you for my fool and chat with you your saucinus will jest upon my love and make a common of my serious hours When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make spot, 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 scunts. Scons call you it? So you would leave battering, I'd rather have it ahead. And 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? Dost thou not known? Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.

Shall I tell you why? Aye, sir, and wherefore, for they say every why hath a wherefore. Why, first, for flouting me, and then wherefore, for urging it the second time to me. 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. Thank me, sir, for what? Merry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.

I'll make you amends next to give you nothing for something. But, say, sir, is it dinner time? No, sir, I think the meat wants that I have. In good time, sir, what's that? Basting. Well, sir, then twill be dry. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it. Your reason?

Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another dry basting. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time. There's a time for all things. I durst have denied that before you were so choleric. By what rule, sir? Mary, sir, by a rule is plain as the plain bald pate of Father's time himself. Let's hear it. There's no time for a man to recover his hair that grows bald by nature.

May he not do it by fine and recovery? Yes, to pay a fine for a periwake and recover the lost hair of another man. Why is time such a niggard of hair being as it is, So plentiful an excrement. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts, And when he has scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit. Why, but as many a man, hath more hair than wit. Not a man of those, but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

Why, thou didst conclude, hairy men, plain dealers without wit? The plainer dealer, the sooner lost, yet he looth it, kind of jollity. For what reason? For two, and sound ones, too. Nay, not sound, I pray you. Sure ones, then. Nay, not sure.

In a thing, falsing. Certain ones, then. Name them. The one to save the money that he spends in trimming, the other that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge. You would all this time have proved there is no time for all things. Mary ended, sir, namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature.

But your reason was not substantial. Why, there is no time to recover. Thus I mend it. Time himself is bald and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers. I knew to be a bald conclusion. But, sir, who wafts us yonder? Enter Adriana and Luciana. Aye, aye, Antiphilus, looks strange and frown,

That some other mistress have thy sweet aspects. I am not Adriana nor thy wife. The time was once when thou an urge would 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 meet sweet savoured in thy taste, unless I spake or looked or touched or carved to thee.

How comes it now, my husband? Oh, how comes it? That thou art thus estranged from thyself. Thyself, I call it, being strange to me, that undividable, incorporate, and better than thy dear self's better part. Ah, do not tear away thy. myself from me, for now, my love, as easy mayest thou fall a drop of water in the breaking

gulf, and take unmingle that same drop again without addition or diminishing, as take from thyself and not me to. How dearly would it touch me to the quick shouldst thou but here I was licentious, and that this body consecrate to thee, by ruffian lust should be contaminated. Thou not spit at me, and spurn at me, and hurl the name of husband in my face, and tear the stained skin off my harlot brow, and from the false hand cut the wedding ring and break it with deep divorcing vow. I know thou canst, and therefore, see thou do it. I am possessed with an adulterous blot. My blood is mingled in the crime of lust. But if we two be won and thou play false, I do detest the poison of thy flesh.

being scrumpeted by thy contagion. Keep then, far league and truce with thy bed. I live unstained, thou undisonerate. 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 scanned, want wit in all one word to understand.

Fine, brother, how the world has changed with you. When were you want to use my sister thus? She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. By Dromio? By me? By thee, and thou did return from him, That he did buffet thee, And in his blows, denied my house for his,

Me for his wife. Did you converse off with this gentlewoman? What is the coars and drift of your compact? I, sir? I never saw her till this time. Bellan, thou liest. For even her very words didst thou deliver to me on the mart. I never spake with her in all my life. How can she thus then call us by her names, unless it be by inspiration?

How ill agrees it with your gravity to counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, abetting him to thwart me in my mood. Be in my wrong you are from me exempt, but, wrong not that wrong, with more contempt. Come, I will fasten the sleeve of thine. Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, whose weakness, married in thy strongest state, makes me with thy strength to communicate. If aught possess from thee, it is dross and serping ivy, briar or idle moss, who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion, infect thy sap and live on

thy confusion. 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 offered fallacy Dromio go bid the servant spread for dinner Oh for my beads I cross me for a sinner This is the fairyland of 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 Why prateest thou to thyself and answer'st not Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sought. I am transformed, master, am I not? I think thou art in mind, and so am I. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. Thou hast thine own form.

No, I am an ape. If thou art changed to art, tis to an ass. 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. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool to put the finger in the eye and weep, whilst the man and master will laugh at my woes to scorn. Come, sir, to dinner.

Dromio, keep the gate. Husband, I'll dine above with you today, and shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. Sira, if any ask you for your master, say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. Come, sister Dromio, play the porter well 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 persevereous so And in this mist At all adventures

go. Master, shall I be Porter at the gate? Aye, and let none enter, lest I break your pate. Come, comment, Phyllis, we dine too late. Excellent. End of Act 2. Act 3 of The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare. This is the Lovervox recording. All Loverbox recordings are on public domain. For more information or a volunteer, please visit Lovervox.org.

act three scene one before the house of antipolis of a the house of antiphalus of aphesus enter antiphalus of aphesius gromio of ophesias angelo and balthazar good signor angelo you must excuse us all my wife is shrewish when i keep not ours say that i lingered with you at your shop to see the making of her carcannet and that to-morrow you will bring it home but here's a villain that would face me down he married me on the mart and that I beat him and charged him with a thousand marks in gold and that I did deny my wife and house. Thou drunkard thou, what didst thou mean by this? Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know. That you beat me at the mark, I have your hand to show. If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, your own handwriting would

tell you what I think. I think thou art an ass. Mary, so a death appear by the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. I should kick, be kicked, and be being at that pass, you would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. You're sad, signor, Balthazar. Pray God, our cheer may answer my good will, and your good welcome here. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and you're welcome, dear.

Oh, signor, both isar, either at flesh or fish, a table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. Good meat, sir, is common, that every churl affords. and welcome more common for that's nothing but words small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast ay to a niggardly host and more sparing guest but though my kates be mean take them in good part better cheer may you have but not with better heart but soft my door is locked go bid them let us in maud bridget marian sisil jillian gin Syracuse, within. Mom, malt horse kept on, Cox come, idiot, patch, Either get thee from the door or sit down at the hatch.

Does thou conjure for wenches that thou call'st for such store? When one is too many, go get thee from the door. What patch has made our porter? My master stays in the street. Dromio of Syracuse, with then. Let him walk from whence he came lest he catch cold on his feet. Who talks within there? Ho! Open the door.

Dromio of Syracuse. Siracus, within. Right, sir, I'll tell you when, and you tell me wherefore? Wherefore? From my dinner. I have not thine to-day. Gromio of Surit within. Nor today, here you must not.

Come again when you may. What art thou that keepest me out from that house I owe? Dromio of Syracuse, within. The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Oh, villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name. The one ne'er got me credit, the other, Mikroo. blame. If thou had been's Dromio today in my place, that would have changed thy face

for your name, or thy name for an ass. Loose, within. What a coil is there, Dromio? Who are those at the gate? Let my master in loose. Loose, within. Faith, no, he comes too late, and so tell your master. Oh, Lord, I must laugh.

Have at you with a proverb. Shall I set in my staff? Loose, within. Have at you with another, that's, when? Can you tell? Dromio of Syracuse, within. If thy name be called Luce, Luce that hast answered him well. Do you hear, Minion?

You'll let us in, I hope. Lose, within. I thought to have asked you. Dromio of Syracuse, within. And you said no. So come, help, well struck, there was blow for blow. Thou baggage, let me in. Luce, within.

Can you tell for whose sake? Master, knock the door hard. Loose, within. Let him knock till it ache. You'll cry for this minion if I beat the door down. Loose, within. What needs all that, and a pair of stalks in the town? Adriana, with then.

Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise? Romeo of Syracuse, within. By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys. Are you there, wife? You might have come before. adriana was then your wife sir knave go get you from the door if you went in pain master this knave would go sore here is neither cheer sir nor welcome we would pain have either in debating which was best we shall part with neither they stand at the door master bid them welcome hither there's something in the wind that we cannot get in you would say so master if your garments were thin your cake there is warm within You stand here in the cold.

It would make a man mad as buck to be so bought and sold. Go fetch me something. I'll break up the gate. Dromio of Syracuse, with then. Break any breaking here, and I'll break your name's pate. A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind. I and break it in your face so we break it not behind. Dromio of Syracuse within. It's seen thou waltz breaking out upon thee, hind.

Here's too much out upon thee. I pray thee let me in. Gromio of Syracuse Within I when fowls have no feathers And fish have no fin Well, I'll break in Go borrow me a crow

A crow without feather Master mean you so For a fish without a fin There's a fowl without a feather If a crow help us in sir I will pluck a crow together Don't get me gone Fetch me an iron crow

Have patience sir Oh let it not be so Herein you wore against your reputation and draw within the compass of suspect the unviolated honor of your wife. Once this, your long experience of her wisdom, her sober virtue, years and modesty, plead on her part some cause to you unknown, and doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse why at this time the doors are made against you. Be ruled by me, depart in patience and let us to the tiger all to dinner, and about

evening come yourself alone to know the reason of this strange restraint. If by strong hand you offer to break in now in the stirring passage of the day, a vulgar comment will be made of it, and that's supposed by the common route against your yet unguarded estimation that may with foul intrusion enter in and dwell upon your grave when you are dead, for slander lives upon succession, forever housed where it gets possession. have prevailed. I will depart in quiet, and in despite of mirth mean to be merry. I know a wench of excellent discourse, pretty and witty, wild, and yet too gentle. There will we dine. This woman that I mean, my wife, but I protest without dessert, hath oftentimes abraded

me withal. To her will we to dinner. To Angelo. Get you home and fetch the chain. by this i know tis made bring it i pray you to the fopentine for there's the house that chain will i bestow be it for nothing but despite my wife upon my hostess there good sir make haste since mine own doors refuse to entertain me i'll knock elsewhere to see if they'll disdain me i'll meet you at that place some hour hence do so this jest shall cost me some expense excellent scene two the same enter luciana and antipolis of syracuse and may it be that you have quite forgot a husband's office shall antiphylus even in the spring of love thy love springs rot shall love in building gross o'rumonis if you did wed my sister for her wealth 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 blood blindness. Let not my sister read it in your eye. Be not thy tongue, thy own shame's order. Look sweet, be fair, become disloyalty, apparel vice like virtues harbinger. Bear a fair presence, so your heart be

tainted. Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint. Be secret false, what needs she be acquainted? What simple thief brags of his own attain? Tis double wrong to truant with your bed, and let her read it in thy looks at board. Shame hath a bastard fame well managed. Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. Alas, poor woman, make us but believe, being compact of credit that you love us. Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve. 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 wholly sport to be a little vain when the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. Sweet mistress, what your name is else I am.

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. 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 labour you To make it wander in an unknown field? Are you a god?

Would you create me, you. 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, far more, far more, you do I decline oh 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 and as a bed I I'll take them and their lie,

And in that glorious supposition think, He gains by death that hath such means to die. Let love being light, be drownded if she sink. What are you mad that you do reason so? Not mad but mated How I do not know It is a fault that springeth from your eye For gazing on your beam's fair sun

Being by Gaze where you should and that will clear your sight As good to wink sweet love As look on night Why call you me love Call my sister so thy sister's sister That's my sister

No It is thyself Mine own self's better part Mine eyes Clear eye My dear heart My food My fortune

And my sweet hopes aim My soul earth's Heaven And my heaven's Clean this my sister is or else should be. Call thyself, sister sweet, for I am thee. Thie will I love, and with thee lead my life. Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife. Give me thy hand. Oh, soft air, hold you still. I'll fetch my sister to get her goodwill.

Exit. Enter Dromio of Syracuse. Why, how now, Dromio? Whereon'st thou so fast? Do you know me, sir? Am I Dromio? Am I your man? Am I thyself? Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and besides myself. What woman's man? And how, be it? Besides thyself, besides thyself. Mary, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman.

One that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me. What claim lay she to thee? Mary, sir, such a claim as you would lady or 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. What is she? A very reverent body, I, such a one as a man may not speak of without his say, Sir, reverence, I have but lean luck in the match, and yet she is a wondrous fat marriage. How does that mean a fat marriage?

Marries, sir, she's the kitchen wench in all Greece, and I know not what used to put her to, but to make a lamp of her and run from her by her own light. I have warned her ragged in the towel in them will burn a poland winter. If she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world. What complexion is she of? Sort like my shoe, but her face nothing half. so clean kept. For why, she sweats, a man may go over shoes in the grime of it. That's a fault that water will mend.

No, sir, she's ingrained. Noah's flood could not do it. What's her name? Now, sir, but her name in three quarters, that's an L in three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip. Then she bears some brett... No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip. She is spherical like a globe. I could find out countries in her. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Mary, in her buttocks, I found it out by the bogs. Where Scotland? I found it by the barrenness, hard in the palm of the hand. Where France? In her forehead, armed in her rodent, making war against her heir.

Where England? I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in her, but I guess it stood in her chin, by the salt room that ran between France and it. Spain. Faith, I saw it not, but I felt it hot in her breath. Where America, the Indies? Oh, sir, upon her nose, all overlish with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining the rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadose of cracks to be ballast at her nose. Where stood Belgium, the Netherlands?

Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudgered diviner laid claim to me, called me. laid claim to me called me dromeo swore was assured to her told me what private marks i had about me as the mark of my shoulder the mull in my neck the great war on my left arm that i amazed ran from her as a witch and i think if my breast had not been made of faith in my heart of steel she had transformed me to a curtile dog and made me turn in the wheel go hie thee presently post to the road and if the wind blow any way from shore i will not harbour in this town to-night if any bar put forth come to the mart where I will walk till they return to me if every one knows us and we know none tis time i think to trudge pack and be gone as from a bear a man would run for his life so fly i from her that would be my wife exit 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 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-wrung i'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song enter angelo with the chain master antipolis

I, that's my name. I know it well, sir. Oh, here is the chain I thought to obtain you at the porpentine. The chain, unfinished, made me stay thus long. What is your will that I shall do with this? What please yourself, sir? I have made it for you. Made it for me, sir?

I bespoke it not. Not once nor twice, but twenty times. you have. 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. I pray you, sir, receive the money now, for fear you nasty chain no money more. You are a merry man, sir. Fair you well. Exit. 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, when in the streets he meets such golden gifts. I'll to the mart, and there put Romeo's day, if any ship put out, then straight away. Exit. End of Act 3.

Act 4 of The Comedy of Ayres by William Shakespeare. This is a Livervotch recording. recordings on the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librovox.org. Act 4, Scene 1, A Public Place. Enter second merchant, Angelo, and in office. You know since Pentecost, the sum is due, and since I have not much importuned you,

nor now I had not, but that I am bound to Persia, and want guilders for my voyage. Therefore make present satisfaction, or I'll attach you by this officer. Even just the sum that I do owe to you is growing to me by Antipolis, and in the instant that I met with you, he had of me a chain. At five o'clock I shall receive the money for the same. Please, if you walk with me down to his house, I will discharge my bond, and thank you too. Enter interforce of Ephesus

And Romeo Ephesus In Curtis That labour may you save, see where he comes While I go to the goldsmith's house Go thou and buy a rope's end That I will bestow among my wife and her confederates For locking me out of my doors by day But soft, I see the goldsmith

Get thee gone, buy thou a rope and bring it home to me I buy a thousand pound a year, I buy a rope a man is well hope up that trusts to you i promised your presence and the chain but neither chain nor goldsmith came to me belike you thought our love would last too long if it were chained together and therefore came not saving your merry humour here's the note how much your chain weighs to the utmost carrot the fineness of the gold in changeful fashion which doth amount to three odd ducats more than i stand dead to this gentleman i pray you see him presently discharged for he is bound to see and stays but for it i am not furnished with the present money besides i have some business in the town good signor take the stranger to my house and with you take the chain and bid my wife disperse the sum on the receipt thereof perchance i will be there as soon as you then you will bring the chain to her yourself no bear it with you lest i come not time enough well sir i will have you the chain about you and if i have it not sir i hope you have, or else you may return without your money.

Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain. Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, and I, to blame, held him here too long. Good Lord, you use this dallions to excuse your breach of promise to the Popentine. I should have chid you for not bringing it, but like a shrew, you first began to brawl. The hour steals on. I pray you, sir, dispatch. You hear how he impotunes me. The chain.

Why, give it to my wife and fetch your money? Come, come, you know I gave it you even now. Either send the chain or send me some token. Fai, now you run this humor out of breath. Where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it. My business cannot brook this stallions. Good, sir.

Say whether you'll answer. me or no. If not, I'll leave him to the officer. I answer you? What should I answer you? The money that you owe me for the chain. I owe you none till I received the chain. You know I gave it you half an hour since. You gave me none. You wronged me much to say so. You wrong me, sir, in denying it,

consider how it stands upon my credit. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. I do, and charge you in the Duke's name to obey me. This touches me in reputation. Either consent to pay the sum for me, or I attach you by this officer. Consent to pay thee that I never had? Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou darest. Here's I fee, arrest him, officer.

I would not spare my brother in this case if he should scorn. me so apparently. I do arrest you, sir. You hear the suit. I do obey thee till I give thee bail. But, sir, you shall buy this sport as dear as all the metal in your shop will answer.

Sir, sir, I will have law in Ephesus. To your notorious shame, I doubt it not. Enter Dromeo of Syracuse from the bay. Master, there is a bark of epidamom that stays butt till our owner comes

board, and then sir she bears away. Our fraudage, sir, I have conveyed aboard, and I have bought the oil, the balsamum, and aqua vitae. The ship is in her trim, the merry wind, though as far from land they stay for not at all, but for their owner, master, and yourself. Now, I'm a madman, why thou peeper's sheep, what ship of epitamum stays for me? A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. That drunken slave I sent thee for a rope, and told thee to what purpose And what end? You sent me for a rope send us soon.

You sent me to the baser for a bark. I will debate this matter at more leisure and teach your ears to list me with more heed. To Adrianna villain, Heidi Street, give her this key and tell her, In the desk that's covered all with Turkish tapestry, There is a purse of dockets. Let her send it. Tell her, I am arrested in the street, and that shall be able. me hide thee slave begone on officer to prison till it come xewan's second merchant angelo officer and antipolis of ephesus to adrianna that is where we dined where dousebel did claim me for her husband she is too big i hope for me to compass thither i must although against my will for servants must their master's minds fulfil

Exit. Scene 2. The House of Antipolis of Ephesus. Enter Adriana and Luciana. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Mightst thou perceive austerity in his eyes that he did plead in earnest? Yeah or nay, look he red or pale, or sad or merry? What observation madeest thou in this case of his heart's meteors tilting in his face? First he denied you had in him no right. He meant he did me none the more my spite. Then swore that he was a stranger here. And true he swore, though yet foresworn he were. Then I pleaded for you.

And what said he? That love I begged for you, he begged of me. With what persuasion did he tempt thy love? With words that in an honest suit might move. First he did praise my beauty, then my speech. Did speak him fair? Of patience I beseech. I cannot, nor will not hold me still.

My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will. He is deformed, crooked, old and seer, ill-faced, worst-bodied, shapeless everywhere, vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, and kind, stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Who would be jealous, then, of such a one? No evil lost is wailed when it is gone. Ah, but I think him better than I say. and yet would herein others' eyes were worse. Far from her nest that Lapwing cries away, my heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter Dromeo of Syracuse.

Here, go, the desk, the purse sweet now make haste. How hast thou lost thy breath? By running fast. Where is thy master, Dromio? Is he well? No, he's in tarter limbo worse than hell. A devil in an everlasting garment hat. One who's hard heart is buttoned up with steel. A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough.

A wolf, nay worse, a fellow, all in buff. A back friend, a shoulder clapper, one that counter mans. The passages of alleys, creaks, and narrow lands. A hound that runs counter and yet draws dry foot well. One that before the judgment carries poor souls to hell. Why, man, what is the matter? I do not know the matter. He is rested on the case. What? Is he arrested?

Tell me at whose suit. I know not at whose suit he is arrested well, but he's in a suit of buff which arrested him. That can I tell. Will you send him, Mistress, Redemption, the money in his desk? Go fetch it, sister. Exit Luciano. This I wonder at, that he, unknown to me, should be in debt. Tell me, was he arrested on a band?

Not on a band, but on a stranger thing. A chain, a chain, do you not hear it ring? What, the chain? No, no, the bell. It's time that I were gone. It was two Ery left him, and now the clock strikes one. The hours come back? That did I never hear. Oh, as if any hour made a sergeant, aw turns back for very fear.

As if time were in debt. How fondly does thou reason? Time is very bankrupt and owes more than he's worth to a season. Nay, he's a thief tune, have you not heard men say that time comes stealing on by night and day? If time be in debt and theft, and the sergeant in the way, Have you not reason to turn back an hour in a day? Re-enter Luciano with a purse. Go, Dromio, there's the money. Bear it straight and bring my master home immediately.

Come, sister, I am pressed down with conceit. Conceit my comfort on my injury. Exuant. Scene 3. A public place. Enter Antifolus of Syracuse. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me, as if I were their well-acquainted friend. and every one doth call me by my name some tender money to me some invite me some other give me thanks for kindnesses some offer me commodities to buy

even now a tailor called me in his shop and showed me silks that he had bought for me and therewithal took measure of my body sure these are but imaginary wiles and lapland sorcerers inhabit here Ventured Dromio of Syracuse. Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have you got the picture of old Adam, new apparel? What gold is this, what Adam? Dost thou mean? Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison. He that goes in the calf-skin that was killed for the prodigal.

He that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. I understand thee not. No, why just a plain case? he that went like a base veal in a case of leather. The man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a sob and rest them. He, sir, that takes pity on decayed men, he is the suits of durrance. He that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mates than a morose pike. What, thou meanest an officer?

I, sir, the sergeant of the band, he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band, one that thinks a man always going to bed and says, God give you good rest. Well, sir, their rest. in your foolery. Is there any... Why, sir? I brought you word an hour since that the Bark expedition put forth tonight

and then were you hindered by the sergeant to cherry for the holy delay. Here are the angels that you sent for should deliver you. The fellow is distract, and so am I, and here we wander in illusions.

Some blessed power deliver us from hence. CURGISM. Well met, well met, Master Antiphilus. I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now. Is that the chain you promised me today? Satan, avoid, I charge thee. Tempt me not.

Master, is this Mr. Satan? It is the devil. Nay, she is worse, she's the devil's dam. And here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and there comes the wets that, say, God damn me, that's as much as to say, God make me a light wench. It is written. They appear to men like angels of light. Lighten's effective fire, and fire will burn.

Ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her. Your man, and you are marvelous, Mary, sir. Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon. Why, Dromio? Mary, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil. Avoid, then. fiend what tells thou me of supping thou art as you are all a sorceress i conjure thee to leave me and be gone

give me the ring of mine you had at dinner or for my diamond the chain you promised and i'll be gone sir and not trouble you some devils ask but the pairings of one's nail a rush a hair a drop of blood a pin and that a cherry stone but she more covetous would have a chain master be wise and if you give it her the devil will shake her chain and fright us with it i pray you sir my ring or else the chain i hope you do not mean to cheat me so upon thou witch come dromeo let us go fly prize says the peacock mistress that you know exuant antipolis of syracuse andromio of syracuse now out of doubt antiphalus is mad else would he never so demean himself a ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats and for the same he promised me a chain both one and other he denies me now the reason that i gather he is mad besides this present instance of his rage is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner of his own doors being shut against his entrance belike his wife acquainted with his fits on purpose shut the doors against his way my way is now to hie home to his house and tell his wife that being lunatic he rushed into my house and took perforce my house-and took perforce my house my way is now to high home to his house and tell his wife that being lunatic he rushed into my house and took perforce my way ring away. This course I fittest choose, for forty ducats is too much to lose." Exit. Scene 4. A street. Enter Antifolus of Ephesus and the officer.

Fear me not, man, I will not break away. I'll give thee ere I leave thee so much money to warrant thee as I am rested for. My wife is in a wayward mood today, and will not lightly trust the messenger that I should be attached in ever I tell you twill sound harshly in her ears. Then you drew me over Ephesus with a rope's end. Here comes my man, I think he brings the money. How now, sir, have you that I sent you for? Here's that, I warrant you, we'll pay them all.

But where's the money? Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope. Five hundred dockets filling, for a rope? I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate. To what end did I bid thee, Heidi home. To a rope's end, sir, and to that end I am I returned. And to that end, sir, I will welcome you.

Meeting home. Good sir, be patient. Nay, it is for me to be patient. I am in adversity. Good now, hold thy tongue. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands. The horsing senseless villain. I would, I were senseless, sir, that I might not feel your blows.

That was sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an action. I am an ass indeed, you may prove it by my long ears. I've served him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and I'm nothing at his hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating. When I am warm, he cools me with beating. I am waked with it when I sleep, raised with it, and I sit, driven out of doors with it when I go home, welcomed home with it, when I return.

Nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar want her brat. And I think when he hath lain me I shall beg with it from door to door. come go along my wife is coming yonder enter adriana luciana the courtesan and pinch mistress respis finem respect your end or rather the prophecy like the parrot beware the ropes end Will thou still talk? Meeting him. How say you now, is not your husband mad? His incivility confirms no less. Good Dr. Pinch, you were a conjurer.

Establish him in his true sense again, and I will please you what you will demand. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks. Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear. Striking him. I charge thee Satan

How's it within this man To yield possession To my holy prayers And to thy state of darkness High thee straight I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven Peace doting wizard Peace I am not mad

Oh that thou wert not Poor distressed soul You minion you Are these your customers Did this companion With the saffron face Revelling feasted at my house today whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut and I denied to enter in my house.

O husband, God doth know you dined at home, where you had remained until this time, free from these slanders and this open shame. Dined at home. Thou villain, what sayest thou? Sir, sooth to say you did not dine at home. Were not my doors locked up, and I shut out? Purdy, your doors were locked and you shut out. And did not she herself reviled me there? Sans Fable, she herself reviled you there. Did not her kitchen made real taunt and scorn me?

Certes she did. The kitchen vestal scorned you. And did not I enrage depart from thence? In verity you did. My bones bear witness that since have felt the vigor of his rage. Is't good to soothe him in these contraries? It is no shame. The fellow finds his vein, and yielding to him, humors well his frenzy. Thou hast suborn the goldsmith to arrest me. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you.

Pydromio here, who came in haste for it. Money by me. Heart and goodwill you might, but surely, master, not a rag of money. Wence not thou to her for a purse of ducats? He came to me and I delivered it. And I am witness with her that she did. God and the rope maker bear me witness that I was sent for nothing but a rope. Mistress, both man and master is possessed.

I know it by their pale and deadly looks. They must be bound and laid in some dark room. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth today? And why dost thou deny me the bag of gold? I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. And gentle master, I received no gold, but I confessed her that we were locked out. Dassembling villain, thou speakest false in both. Dissombing heart.

thou art false in all and art confederate with a damnate pact to make a loathsome abject scorn of me but with these nails i'll pluck out these false eyes that would behold in me this shameful spot enter three or four and offer to bind him he strives oh bind him bind him let him not come near me more company the fiend is strong within him ay me poor man how pearm than when he looks what will you murder me thou jailer thou i am thy prisoner will thou suffer them to make a rescue masters let him go he is my prisoner and you shall not have him go bind this man for he is frantic too offer to bind romio of ephesus what wilt thou do peevish officer hast thou delight to see a wretched man do outrage and displeasure to himself he is my prisoner if i let him go the debt he owes will be required of me. I will discharge the ear I go from thee. Bear me forthwith and to his creditor. Unknowing how the debt grows, I will repay it.

Good Master, Doctor, see him safe conveyed home to my house. Oh, most unhappy day. Oh, most unhappies trumpet! Master, I am entered here in bond for you. Out on thee, Phelham! Wherefore does the mad me? Will you be bound for nothing? Be mad, good Master!

Cry the devil! God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk? Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me? Excerent all but Adriana, Luciana, Officer and Courtesone. Say now, whose suit is he arrested at? One Angelo, a goldsmith. Do you know him? I know the man. What is the sum he owes?

Two hundred ducats. Say, how grows it, Jew? Do for a chain your husband had of him. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not. when as your husband all enraged to-day came to my house and took away my ring the ring i saw upon his finger now straight after did i meet him with a chain it may be so but i did never see it come jailer bring me where the goldsmith is i long to know the truth hereof at large enter antipolis of syracuse with his rapier drawn andromio of syracuse god for my mercy they are loose again and come with naked swords And let's call more help to have these bound again. Away, they'll kill us!

Huxuant all but Antipholus of Syracuse and Romeo of Syracuse. I see these witches are afraid of swords. She that would be your wife now ran from you. Come to the centaur fetch us up from thence. I long that we were safe and sound aboard. Faith, stay here this night. They will surely do us no harm. You saw they speak us fair, give us gold. He thinks they are such a gentle nation that.

But for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still and turn which. I will not stay tonight for all the town. Therefore a way to get asked off aboard. Exuant. End of Act 4. Act 5 of The Comedy is by William Shakespeare. This is a Lovera Vox recording.

All LoveraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, nor to volunteer, please visit liverbox.org. Act 5. Scene 1. A street before a priory. Enter second merchant and Angelo. I am sorry, sir, that I have hindered you, but I protest he had the chain of me,

though most dishonestly he doth deny it. How is the man esteemed here in the city? A very reverent reputation, sir, of credit infinite, highly beloved, second to none that lives here in the city, his word might bear my wealth at any time. Speak softly, yonder, as I think he walks. Enter Antipolis of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse.

Tis so, and that self-chain about his neck which he foreswore most monstrously to have. Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him. Signor Antiphalus, I wonder much that you would put me to the shame and trouble, and not without some scandal to yourself, with circumstances and oaths, so to deny this chain which now you wear so openly. Besides the charge, the shame imprisonment, you have done wrong to this, my honest friend, who but for staying on our country. had hoisted sail and put to sea today the chain you had of me. Can you deny it? I think I had. I never did deny it. Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too. Who heard me to deny it or forswear it?

These ears of mine thou know'st it hear thee. Fire on thee, wretch. This pity that thou livest to walk where any honest man resort. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus. I'll prove mine honour and my honesty against thee presently, if thou darest stand. I dare and do thee fight thee for a villain. They draw. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Cortism, and others. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake.

He is mad. Some get within him. Take his sword away. bind dromeo too and bear them to my house run master run for god's sake take a house this is some priory in or we are spoiled x wind fullest of syracuse and dromeo of syracuse to the priory enter the lady abess amelia be quiet people wherefore throng you hither to fetch my poor distracted husband hence that we may bind him fast and bear him home for his recovery I knew he was not in his perfect wits. I am sorry now that I did draw on him. How long hath this possession held the man?

This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad, and so much different from the man he was. But till this afternoon his passion ne'er break into extremity of rage. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea, buried some dear friend, hath not else his eye strayed his affection in unlawful, love, a sin prevailing much in youthful men, who give their eyes the liberty of gazing, which of these sorrows is he subject to? To none of these, except it be the last, namely, some love that drew him

oft from home. You should for that have reprehended him. Why so I did. I, but not rough enough. As roughly as my modesty would let me. Happily in private. And in a assemblies too. Aye, but not enough. It was the copy of our conference. In bed he slept, not for my urging it. At board he fed, not for my urging it. Alone, it was subject to my theme.

In company, I often glanced it. Still, did I tell him it was vile and bad? And thereof came it that the man was mad. The venom clamors of a jealous woman poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. It seems his sleeps were hindered by thy railing, And therefore comes it that his head is light. Thou sayest his meat was sauced with thy upbraiding's.

Unquiet meals make ill digestions. Thereof the raging fire of fever bred. And what's a fever but a fit of madness? Thou sayest his sports were hindered by thy brawls. Sweet recreation barred. What doth ensue but moody and dull melancholy. collie, kinsman to grim and comfortless despair, and at her heels a huge infectious troop of pale distemperatures and foes to life. In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest, to be disturbed,

would mad or man or beast. The consequence is then, thy jealous fits have scared thy husband from the use of wits. She never reprehended him but mildly, when he demeaned himself rough, rude and wildly, why bear you these rebukes and answer not? She did betray me to my own reproof. Good people enter and lay hold on him. No, not a creature enters in my house. Then let your servants bring my husband forth. Neither. He took this place for sanctuary,

and it shall privilege him from your hands till I have brought him to his wits again, or lose my labour in assaying it. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, diet is sickness, for it is my office, and I will have no attorney but myself, and therefore, let me have him home with me. Be patient, for I will not let him stir till I have used the approved means I have, with wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers, to make of him a formal man again. It is a branch and parcel of mine oath, a charitable duty of my order. Therefore, depart.

and leave him here with me. I will not hence and leave my husband here. And ill it doth beseem your holiness to separate the husband and the wife. Be quiet and depart. Thou shalt not have him. Exit. Complain unto the Duke of this indignity.

Come, go. I will fall prostrate at his feet and never rise until my tears and prayers have won his grace to come in person thither and take perforce my husband from the abbess. By this I think the dial points at five. Anon, I'm sure, the Duke himself in person comes this way to the melancholy veil, the place of death and sorry execution behind the ditches of the abbey here.

Upon what cause? To see a reverend Syracusian merchant, who put unluckily into this bay against the laws and statutes of this town, beheaded publicly for his offense. See where they come. We will behold his death. kneel to the Duke before he passed the Abbey. Enter Duke Solonus.

Attend. The Gian bareheaded with the headsmen and other officers. Yet once again proclaim it publicly. If any friend will pay the sum for him, he shall not die. So much we tender him. Justice, most sacred Duke, against the Abbas. She is a virtuous and reverend lady. It cannot be that she have done the wrong.

May it please your grace, Antiphalus, my husband, whom I made lord of me, and all I had, at your important letters, this ill day a most outrageous fit of madness took him, that desperately he hurried through the streets, with him his bondman, all as mad as he, doing displeasure to the citizens by rushing into their houses, bearing thence rings, jewels, anything his rage did like. Once did I get him bound and sent him home. Whilst to take orders for the wrongs I went, that here and there his fury had committed, anon, I wot not by what strong escape, he broke from those that had guard of him. And with his mad attendant and himself, each one with eyeful passion, and drawn swords, met us again and madly bent on us. Chaste us away, till, rising of more aid,

we come again to bind them. Then they fled into the abbey. Wither we pursued them, and here the abbess shuts the gate on us, and will not suffer us to fetch him out, nor send him forth that we may bear him hence. Therefore, most gracious Duke, with thy command, let him be brought forth and borne hence for help. Long since thy husband served me in my wars, and I to thee engaged a prince's word, when thou didst make him master of thy bed, to do him all the grace and good I could. Go, some of you, knock at the abbey gate,

and bid the lady, Abbas, come to me. I will determine this before I stir. Enter a servant. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself. My master and his manner both broke loose, beaten the maids a row and found the doctor, whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire, and ever as it blazed they threw on him,

great pails of puddle the mire to quench the hair. My master preaches patience to him and the while, his man with scissors knicks him like a fool, and sure, unless you send some present help, between them they will kill the conjurer. Peace, fool, thy master and his man are here, and that is false thou dost report to us. Mistress, upon my life I tell you true,

I have not breathed almost since I did see it. He cries for you and vows if he can take you, to scorch your face and to disfigure you. Cry with them. Hark, hark, I hear her mistress. Fly, I be gone. Come, stand by me, fear nothing. Guard with hellbirds. I may. It is my husband.

Witness you that he was born about invisible. Even now we housed him in that abbey here. And now he's there. Past thought of human reason. Enter Antipolis of Ephesus and Dromio of Ephesus. justice most gracious duke oh grant me justice even for the service that long since i did thee when i bestrid thee in the wars and took deep scars to save thy life even for the blood that then i lost for thee now grant me justice unless the fear of death doth make me dote i see my son antiphalus and dromeo judge a sweet prince against that woman there she whom thou gave us to me to be my wife that hath abused and dishonoured me even in the strength and height of injury beyond imagination is the wrong that she this day hath shameless thrown on me discover how and thou shalt find me just

this day great yuk she shuts the doors upon me while she with harlots feasted in my house a grievous fault say woman didst thou so no my good lord myself he and my sister to-day did dine together so before my soul as this is false he burdens me withal ne'er may i look on day nor sleep on night but she tells to your highness simple truth o perjured woman they are both forsworn in this the madman justly charges them my liege i amethysed at what i say neither disturbed with the effect of wine nor heady rash provoked with aging ire albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad this woman locked me out this day from dinner that goldsmith there where he not packed with her could witness it for he was with me then who parted with me to go fetch a chain promising to bring it to the popentine where balthazar and i did dine together our dinner done and he not coming thither i went to seek him in the street i met him and in his company that gentleman there did this perjured goldsmith swear me down that i this day of him received the chain which god he knows i saw not for the which he did arrest me with an officer i did obey and sent my peasant home for certain ducats he with none return Then, fairly, I bespoke the officer to go in person with me to my house.

By the way, we met my wife, her sister, and a rabble more of vile confederates. Along with them they brought one bench, a hungry, lean-faced villain, a mere anatomy, a mountebank, a threat-bear juggler and a fortune-teller, a needy, hollow-eyed shop, looking wretch, a dead-looking man. This pernicious slave-forsooth took on him as a conjurer, and gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, and with no face as to her, out-facing me, cries out, I was possessed. Then, altogether they fell upon me, bound me, bore me then sent in a dark and dankish vault at home there left me and my man, both bound together. till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder i gained my freedom and immediately ran hither to your grace whom i beseech to give me ample satisfaction for these deep shames and great indignities

my lord in truth thus far i witness with him that he dined not at home but was locked out but had he such a chain of thee or noe he had my lord and when he ran in here these people saw the chain about his neck besides i will be sworn these ears of mine heard you confess you had the chain of him after you first forsweared on the mart and thereupon i drew my sword on you and then you fled into this abbey here from whence i think you are come by miracle i never came within these abbey walls nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me I never saw the chainsaw helped me heaven. And this is false you burdened me with all. Why, what an intricate impeach is this. I think you have all drunk of Circe's cup. If here you housed him, here he would have been.

If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly. You say he dined at home. The goldsmith here denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you? Sir, he dined with her there, the porpentine. He did, and from my finger snatched that ring. Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of her.

Sawest thou him enter at the abbey here? As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace. Why, this is strange. Go call the abyss hither. I think you are all mated or stark mad. Exit one to Abyss. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word, Happily I see a friend will save my life, and pay the sum that may deliver me.

Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt. Is not your name, sir, called Antiphilus, and is not that your bondman, Dromio? Within this hour I was his bondman, sir, but he, I thank him not into my cords. Now am I Dromio and his man unbound. I am sure you both of you remember me. ourselves we do remember sir by you for lately we were bound as you are now you are not pinch it's patient are you sir why look you strange on me you know me well i never saw you in my life till now oh grief hath changed me since you saw me last and careful hours with time's deformed hand have written strange de-features in my face but tell me yet dust thou not know my voice? Not either.

Dromio, nor thou. No, trust me, sir, nor I. I am sure thou dost. I, sir, but I am sure I do not, and whatsoever a man denies you are now bound to believe him. Not know my voice. O, time's extremity, hast thou so cracked and splitted my poor tongue

in seven short years, that here my only son knows not my feeble key of untuned cares. Though now this granite face of mine be hid in sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, and all the conduits of my blood froze up, yet hath my night of life some memory, my wasting lamps, some fading glimmer left, my dull ears a little used to hear.

All these old witnesses I cannot err. Tell me thou art my son. Antiphilus. I never saw my father in my life. But seven years since in Syracusa, boy, thou knowest we parted. But perhaps my son, thou shamedest to acknowledge me in misery. The Duke and all but know me in the city can witness with me that it is not so. I never saw Syracusa in my life.

I tell thee, Syracusian, 20 years. have I been patron to Antiphalus, during which time he ne'er saw Syracusia. I see thy age and dangers make thee dot. Re-enter Amelio with Antipolis of Syracuse, and Dromeo of Syracuse. Most mighty duke, behold, a man much wronged. I'll gather to see them.

I see two husbands. All mine eyes deceive me. One of these men is genius to the other, and so of these, which is the natural man and which the spirit. Who deciphers them? I, sir, Andromio, command him away. I, sir, Andromio, pray let me stay. Egyon, art anot, or else his ghost?

Oh, my old master, who hath bound him here? Whoever bound him, I will lose his bonds, and gain a husband by his liberty. Speak, old Egyon. If thou beest the man that hadst a wife once, called E.melia, that bore thee at a burden two fair sons. Oh, if thou beest the same Egeon,

speak, and speak unto the same, Amelia. If I dream not, thou art Amelia. If thou art she, Tell me, where is that son that floated with thee on the fatal raft? By men of Epidamomom, he and I and the twin Dromio all were taken up. But by and by, rude fishermen of Corinth, by force, took Dromio and my son from them. And me they left with those men of Epidamom. What then became of them?

I cannot tell. I, to this fortune that you see me in. Why, here begins his morning story right. These two antiphaluses, these two soul-like, and these two Dromios, one in semblance. Besides her, urging of her wreck at sea, these are the parents to these children, which accidentally are met together. Antiphilus, thou came us from Corinth first. No, sir, not I. I came from Syracuse. Stay, stand apart. I know not which is which.

i came from corinth my most gracious lord and i with him brought to this town by that most famous warrior duke menephon your most renowned uncle which of you two did dine with me to-day i gentle mistress and are not you my husband no i say nay to that and so do i yet did she call me so and this Spurred gentle woman her sister here did call me brother. Pellusiana. What I told you then, I hope I shall have leisure to make good. If this be not a dream, I see and hear. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me. I think it be, sir.

I deny it not. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me. I think I did, sir. I deny it not. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail. By Dromio, but I think he bought it not. No, none by me. This purse of ducats I received from you,

and Dromio, my man, did bring them me. I see we still did meet each other's man, and I was tained for him, and he for me, and thereupon these errors arose. These ducats pawn I for my father here. It shall not need. Thy father hath his life. Sir, I must have that diamond from you.

There, take it, and much thanks for my good cheer. Renowned Duke vouchsafe to take the pains to go with us, into the abbey here, and here at large discourse at all our fortunes. And all that are assembled in this place that by this sympathized one day's error have suffered wrong, go keep us company, and we shall make full satisfaction. Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail of you, my sons,

and till this present hour my heavy burden ne'er deliver it. The Duke, my husband, and my children both, and you the calendars of their nativity, go to a gossip's feast, and go with me. After so long grief, such festivity with all my heart i'll gossip at this feast x wins all but antiphalus of syracuse antipolis of ephesus dromeo of syracuse and dromeo of ephesus master shall i fetch your stuff from shipboard gromio what stuff of mine hast thou embarked you're good to lay a host sir in the centaur he speaks to me i am your master dromeo come go with us we'll look to that anon embrace thy brother there rejoice with him exhumed the intervals of syracuse and the intercourse of ephesus there is a fat friend at your master's house that kitchened me for you today at dinner she now shall be my sister not my wife methinks you are my glass and not my brother i see by you i am a sweet-faced youth will you walk in to see their

gossiping? Not I, sir. You are my elder. That's a question. How shall we try it? We'll draw cuts for the senior. Till then lead thou first. Nay, then thus.

We came into the world like brother and brother. Now, let's go in hand, not one before another. Excellent. End of Act 5. End of The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare. Thank you for listening.