SHAKSPEARE might have taken the general plan of this comedy from a translation of the Menæchmi of Plautus, by W. W. i. e. (according to Wood) William Warner, in 1695, whose version of the acrostical argument hereafter quoted is as follows: "Two twinne borne sonnes a Sicill marchant had, Where th' other dwelt inricht, and him so like, Father, wife, neighbours, each mistaking either, See this translation of the Menæchmi, among six old Plays on which Shakspeare founded, &c. published by S. Leacroft, Charing-cross. At the beginning of an address Ad Lectorem, prefixed to the errata of Decker's Satiromastix, &c. 1602, is the following passage, which apparently alludes to the title of the comedy before us : "In steed of the Trumpets sounding thrice before the play begin, it shall not be amisse (for bim that will read) first to beholde this short Comedy of Errors, and where the greatest enter, to give them instead of a hisse, a gentle correction." STEEVENS. I suspect this and all other plays where much rhyme is used, and especially long hobbling verses, to have been among Shakspeare's more early pro ductions. BLACKSTONE. I am possibly singular in thinking that Shakspeare was not under the slightest obligation, in forming this comedy, to Warner's translation of the Menæchmi. The additions of Erotes and Sereptus, which do not occur in that translation, and he could never invent, are, alone, a sufficient inducement to believe that he was no way indebted to it. But a further and more convincing proof is, that he has not a name, line, or word, from the old play, nor any one incident but what must, of course, be common to Sir William Blackstone, I every translation. observe, suspects "this and all other plays where much rhyme is used, and especially long hobbling verses, to have been among Shakspeare's more early productions." But I much doubt whether any of these "long hobbling verses" have the honour of proceeding from his pen : and, in fact, the superior elegance and harmony of his language is no less distinguishable in his earliest than his latest production. The truth is, if any inference can be drawn from the most striking dissimilarity of style, a tissue as different as silk and worsted, that this comedy, though boasting the embellishments of our author's genius, in additional words, lines, speeches, and scenes, was not originally his, but proceed from some inferior playwright, who was capable of reading the Menæchmi without the help of a translation, or, at least, did not make use of Warner's. And this I take to have been the case, not only with the three Parts of King Henry VI. as I think a late editor (0 si sic omnia!) has satisfactorily proved, but with The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Love's Labour's Lost, and King Richard II., in all which pieces Shakspeare's new work is as apparent as the brightest touches of Titian would be on the poorest performance of the veriest canvas-spoiler that ever handled a brush. The originals of these plays, (except The Second and Third Part of King Henry VI.) were never printed, and may be thought to have been put into his hands by the manager, for the purpose of alteration and improvement, which we find to have been an ordinary practice of the theatre in his time. We are therefore no longer to look upon the above "pleasant and fine conceited comedie," as entitled to a situation among the "six plays on which Shakspeare founded his Measure for Measure," &c. of which I should hope to see a new and improved edition. RITSON. This comedy, I believe, was written in 1592. MALONE. COMEDY OF ERRORS. On a careful revision of the following scenes, I do not hesitate to pronounce them the composition of two unequal writers. Shakspeare had undoubtedly a share in them; but that the entire play was no work of his, is an opinion which (as Benedict says) fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at the stake." Thus, as we are nformed by Aulas Gellius, lib. iii. cap. 3, some plays were absolutely ascribed to Plautus, which in truth had only been retractate et expolita) retouched and polished by him. In this comedy we find more intricacy of plot than distinction of character; and our attention is less forcibly engaged, because we can guess in great measure how the denouement will be brought about. Yet the subject appears to have been reluctantly dismissed, even in this last and unnecessary scene; where the same mistakes are continued, till the power of affording entertainment is entirely lost. Steevens. SOLINUS, Duke of Ephesus. ANTIPHOLUS, of Ephesus, PERSONS REPRESENTED. twin Brothers, and Sons to Egeon and Æmilia, but unknown to each other. DROMIO of Ephesus, twin Brothers, and Attendants DROMIO of Syracuse, on the two Antiphoius's. BALTHAZAR, a Merchant. ACT I. SCENE,-Ephesus. SCENE L-A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, ÆGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants. Ege. Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, If any, born at Ephesus, be seen Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose My woes end likewise with the evening sun. Duke. Well, Syracusan, say, in brief, the cause And by me too, had not our hap been bad. Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants. And soon, and safe, arrived where I was. And which was strange, the one so like the other, Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, For what obscured light the heavens did grant, A doubtful warrant of immediate death; Which, though myself would gladly have embrac'd, But ere they came,-O, let me say no more! Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Æge. O, had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily term'd them merciless to us! For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, We were encounter'd by a mighty rock; Which being violently borne upon, Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst, course. guests; Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; [for, Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Gaol. I will, my lord. Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. There is your money that I had to keep. And go indeed, having so good a mean. Ant. S A trusty villain, sir; that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, Lightens my humoor with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to my inn, and dine with me? Mer. 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 afterwards consort you till bed-time; My present business calls me from you now. Ant. S. Farewell till then: I will go lose mysel, And wander up and down, to view the city. Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. [Erit Ant. S. He, that commends me to mine on Commends me to the thing I cannot get. [content 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 DROMIO of Ephesus. Here comes the almanack of my true date.What now? How chance, thou art return'd so soon? Dro. E. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late : The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dro. E. O,-sixpence, that I had o'Wednesday last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper?The saddler had it, sir, I kept it not. Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust So great a charge from thine own custody? Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner I from my mistress come to yon in post; If I return, I shall be post indeed; For she will score your fault upon my pate Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your clock, And strike you home without a messenger. Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: me. foolishness, Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner; My mistress, and her sister, stay for you. Ant. S. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, In what safe place you have bestow'd my money; Ant. S. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. That stands on tricks, when I am undispos'd: Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my pate, Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, But not a thousand marks between you both.If I should pay your worship those again, Perchance, you will not bear them patiently. Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks! what mistress, slave, hast thou? [Phoenix; Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner, And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. S. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. Dro, E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands; Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I.-A public Place. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. [Exit. Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine, and never fret: A man is master of his liberty: Time is their master; and, when they see time, Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more? Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. They can be meek, that have no other cause. Luc. Well, I will marry one day, but to try -Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus. Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he is at two bands with me, and that my two ears can witness. Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them. Adr. But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn mad! Adr. Horn-mad, thon villain? [stark mad: Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, he's When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd ine for a thousand marks in gold: 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burn, quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Will you come home? quoth I; My gold, quoth he: Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain? The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; My gold, quoth he: My mistress, sir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress; I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress! Luc. Quoth who? Dro. E. Quoth my master : I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress ;- I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake, send some other messenger. Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy head across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you I shall have a holy head. [home. Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy master Dro. E. 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. Luc. Fy, how impatience lowereth in your face! Adr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it : Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, 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 ruin'd? then is he the ground Of my defeatures: My decayed fair A sunny look of his would soon repair: But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. Luc. Self-harming jealousy!-fy, beat it hence. Adr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dis pense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere; SCENE II.-The same. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. Ant. S. 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. |