BALTHASAR, a Merchant.

       ANGELO, a Goldsmith.

       A MERCHANT, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse.

       PINCH, a Schoolmaster and a Conjurer.

       EMILIA, Wife to Egeon, an Abbess at Ephesus.

       ADRIANA, Wife to Antipholus of Ephesus.

       LUCIANA, her Sister.

       LUCE, her Servant.

       A COURTESAN

       Messenger, Jailer, Officers, Attendants

ACT I

       Table of Contents

      SCENE I. A hall in the Duke’s palace.

      Enter Duke, Egeon, Jailer, Officers and other Attendants.

      EGEON.

       Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall,

       And by the doom of death end woes and all.

      DUKE.

       Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more.

       I am not partial to infringe our laws.

       The enmity and 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 seal’d his rigorous statutes with their bloods,

       Excludes all pity from our threat’ning 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 adverse towns;

       Nay more, if any born at Ephesus

       Be seen at Syracusian marts and fairs;

       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 condemn’d to die.

      EGEON.

       Yet this my comfort; when your words are done,

       My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

      DUKE.

       Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause

       Why thou departedst from thy native home,

       And for what cause thou cam’st to Ephesus.

      EGEON.

       A heavier task could not have been impos’d

       Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable;

       Yet, that the world may witness that my end

       Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,

       I’ll utter what my sorrow gives me leave.

       In Syracusa was I born, and wed

       Unto a woman happy but for me,

       And by me, had not our hap been bad.

       With her I liv’d in joy; our wealth increas’d

       By prosperous voyages I often made

       To Epidamnum, 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 other

       As could not be distinguish’d but by names.

       That very hour, and in the self-same inn,

       A mean 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 sail’d

       Before the always-wind-obeying 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