The Comedy of Errors

will not, hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
He is deformed, crooked, old and sere,
Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind,
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Luciana

Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail’d when it is gone.

Adriana

Ah, but I think him better than I say,
And yet would herein others’ eyes were worse.
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away:
My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

Enter Dromio of Syracuse. Dromio of Syracuse Here! go; the desk, the purse! sweet, now, make haste. Luciana How hast thou lost thy breath? Dromio of Syracuse By running fast. Adriana Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well? Dromio of Syracuse

No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him;
One whose hard heart is button’d 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 countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks and narrow lands;
A hound that runs counter and yet draws dry-foot well;
One that before the judgment carries poor souls to hell.

Adriana Why, man, what is the matter? Dromio of Syracuse I do not know the matter: he is ’rested on the case. Adriana What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit. Dromio of Syracuse

I know not at whose suit he is arrested well;
But he’s in a suit of buff which ’rested him, that can I tell.
Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?

Adriana

Go fetch it, sister. Exit Luciana. This I wonder at,
That he, unknown to me, should be in debt.
Tell me, was he arrested on a band?

Dromio of Syracuse

Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
A chain, a chain! Do you not hear it ring?

Adriana What, the chain? Dromio of Syracuse

No, no, the bell: ’tis time that I were gone:
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.

Adriana The hours come back! that did I never hear. Dromio of Syracuse O, yes; if any hour meet a sergeant, a’ turns back for very fear. Adriana As if Time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason! Dromio of Syracuse

Time is a very bankrupt and owes more than he’s worth to season.
Nay, he’s a thief too: have you not heard men say,
That Time comes stealing on by night and day?
If Time be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the way,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?

Re-enter Luciana with a purse. Adriana

Go, Dromio; there’s the money, bear it straight,
And bring thy master home immediately.
Come, sister: I am press’d down with conceit⁠—
Conceit, my comfort and my injury. Exeunt.

Scene III

A public place.

	Enter Antipholus of Syracuse.
Antipholus of Syracuse	There’s not a man I meet but doth salute me As if I were their well-acquainted friend; And everyone 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 call’d me in his shop And show’d 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.
	Enter Dromio of Syracuse.
Dromio of Syracuse	Master, here’s the gold you sent me for. What, have you got the picture of old Adam new-apparelled?
Antipholus of Syracuse	What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean?
Dromio of Syracuse	Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf’s skin that was killed for the Prodigal; he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.
Antipholus of Syracuse	I understand thee not.
Dromio of Syracuse	No? why, ’tis a plain case: he that went, like a bass-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a sob and ’rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a morris-pike.
Antipholus of Syracuse	What, thou meanest an officer?
Dromio of Syracuse	Ay, 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!”
Antipholus of Syracuse	Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth tonight? may we be gone?
Dromio of Syracuse	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 tarry for the hoy Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you.
Antipholus of Syracuse	The fellow is distract, and so am I; And here we wander in illusions: Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
	Enter a Courtesan.
Courtesan	Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now: Is that the chain you promised me today?
Antipholus of Syracuse	Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
Dromio of Syracuse	Master, is this Mistress Satan?
Antipholus of Syracuse	It is the devil.
Dromio of Syracuse	Nay, she is worse, she is the devil’s dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes that the wenches say “God damn me;” that’s as much to say, “God make me a light wench.” It is written they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her.
Courtesan	Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here?
Dromio of Syracuse	Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat; or bespeak a long spoon.
Antipholus of Syracuse	Why, Dromio?
Dromio of Syracuse	Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.