The Comedy of Errors | Page 4

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 embrac'd,
Yet the incessant
weepings of my wife,
Weeping before for what she saw must come,

And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
That mourn'd for fashion,
ignorant what to fear,
Forc'd 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 fast'ned him unto a small
spare mast,
Such as sea-faring men provide for storms:
To him one
of the other twins was bound,
Whilst I had been like heedful of the
other.

The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I,
Fixing our eyes on
whom our care was fix'd,
Fast'ned ourselves at either end the mast,

And, floating straight, obedient to the stream,
Were carried towards
Corinth, as we thought.
At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,

Dispers'd those vapours that offended us;
And, by the benefit of his
wish'd light,
The seas wax'd calm, and we discover'd
Two ships
from far making amain to us,--
Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this:

But ere they came--O, let me say no more!--
Gather the sequel by that

went before.
DUKE.
Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so;
For we may
pity, though not pardon thee.
AEGEON.
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 encount'red 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 to both of us alike

What to delight in, what to sorrow for.
Her part, poor soul! seeming
as burdened
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 seiz'd on us;
And, knowing whom it was their hap to
save,
Gave healthful welcome to their ship-wreck'd guests;
And
would have reft the fishers 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 sever'd from my bliss;
That by misfortunes
was my life prolong'd,
To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.
DUKE.
And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,
Do me the
favour to dilate at full
What have befall'n of them and thee till now.
AEGEON.
My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,
At eighteen
years became inquisitive
After his brother, and importun'd me
That
his attendant,--so his case was like,
Reft of his brother, but retain'd
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 lov'd.

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 timely death,
Could all my travels warrant

me they live.
DUKE.
Hapless Aegeon, whom the fates have mark'd
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 disannul,
My soul should sue as advocate for thee.

But though thou art adjudged to the death,
And passed sentence may
not be recall'd
But to our honour's great disparagement,
Yet will I
favour thee in what I can:
Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day

To seek thy help by beneficial help:
Try all the friends thou hast in
Ephesus:
Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum,
And live; if not,
then thou art doom'd to die.--
Gaoler, take him to thy custody.
GAOLER.
I will, my lord.
AEGEON.
Hopeless and helpless doth Aegeon wend.
But to
procrastinate his lifeless end.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE 2. A public place.
[Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, and a
MERCHANT.]
MERCHANT.
Therefore, give out you are of Epidamnum,
Lest
that your goods too soon 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.
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.
Go bear it to the Centaur, where
we host,
And stay there, Dromio, 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.
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
Many a man would take you at your
word,
And go indeed, having so good a mean.
[Exit DROMIO.]
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE.
A trusty villain, sir, that very oft,

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