The Comedy of Errors

"A Comédia dos Erros"

by William Shakespeare

Version in Prose by Edith Nesbit

(in Public Domain)

THE COMEDY OF ERRORS

AEGEON was a merchant

of Syracuse, which is a

seaport in Sicily.

His wife was AEmilia,

and they were very happy

until AEgeon's manager died,

and he was obliged to go

by himself to a place called

Epidamnum on the Adriatic.

As soon as she could AEmilia

followed him, and after they

had been together some time

two baby boys were born

to them.

The babies were exactly alike;

even when they were dressed

differently they looked the same.

And now you must believe a

very strange thing.

At the same inn where these

children were born, and on the

same day, two baby boys were

born to a much poorer couple

than AEmilia and AEgeon;

so poor, indeed, were the

parents of these twins

that they sold them

to the parents of the

other twins.

AEmilia was eager to show

her children to her friends in

Syracuse, and in treacherous

weather she and AEgeon and

the four babies sailed

homewards.

They were still far from

Syracuse when their ship

sprang a leak, and the crew

left it in a body by the only

boat, caring little what

became of their

passengers.

AEmilia fastened one of her

children to a mast and tied

one of the slave children to him;

AEgeon followed her example

with the remaining children.

Then the parents secured

themselves to the same

masts, and hoped

for safety.

The ship, however, suddenly

struck a rock and was split

in two, and AEmilia, and the

two children whom she had

tied, floated away from

AEgeon and the other

children.

AEmilia and her charges

were picked up by some

people of Epidamnum,

but some fishermen of

Corinth took the babies

from her by force,

and she returned to

Epidanmum alone,

and very miserable.

Afterwards she settled in

Ephesus, a famous town

in Asia Minor.

AEgeon and his charges

were also saved;

and, more fortunate than

AEmilia, he was able to

return to Syracuse and keep

them till they were eighteen.

His own child he called

Antipholus, and the slavechild

he called Dromio;

and, strangely enough,

these were the names

given to the children

who floated away

from him.

At the age of eighteen

the son who was with AEgeon

grew restless with a desire

to find his brother.

AEgeon let him depart

with his servant, and the

young men are henceforth

known as Antipholus of

Syracuse and Dromio

of Syracuse.

Let alone, AEgeon found his

home too dreary to dwell in,

and traveled for five years.

He did not, during his

absence, learn all the

news of Syracuse, or

he would never have

gone to Ephesus.

As it was, his melancholy

wandering ceased in that

town, where he was

arrested almost as

soon as he arrived.

He then found that the Duke

of Syracuse had been acting

in so tyrannical a manner to

Ephesians unlucky enough to

fall into his hands, that the

Government of Ephesus had

angrily passed a law which

punished by death or a fine

of a thousand pounds any

Syracusan who should come

to Ephesus.

AEgeon was brought before

Solinus, Duke of Ephesus,

who told him that he must

die or pay a thousand pounds

before the end of the day.

You will think there was

fate in this when I tell you

that the children who were

kidnaped by the fishermen

of Corinth were now citizens

of Ephesus, whither they had

been brought by Duke

Menaphon, an uncle of Duke

Solinus. They will henceforth

be called Antipholus of

Ephesus and Dromio

of Ephesus.

Moreover, on the very day

when AEgeon was arrested, Antipholus of Syracuse landed

in Ephesus and pretended that

he came from Epidamnum in

order to avoid a penalty.

He handed his money to his

servant Dromio of Syracuse,

and bade him take it to the

Centaur Inn and remain there

till he came.

In less than ten minutes

he was met on the Mart

by Dromio of Ephesus,

his brother's slave, and

immediately mistook

him for his own Dromio.

"Why are you back so soon?

Where did you leave

the money?"

asked Antipholus

of Syracuse.

This Drornio knew of

no money except sixpence,

which he had received on

the previous Wednesday

and given to the saddler;

but he did know that his

mistress was annoyed

because his master was

not in to dinner, and he

asked Antipholus of

Syracuse to go to a house

called The Phoenix

without delay.

His speech angered the

hearer, who would have

beaten him if he had not fled.

Antipholus of Syracuse them

went to The Centaur, found

that his gold had been

deposited there, and

walked out of the inn.

He was wandering about

Ephesus when two beautiful

ladies signaled to him with

their hands. They were sisters,

and their names were Adriana

and Luciana. Adriana was the

wife of his brother Antipholus

of Ephesus, and she had

made up her mind, from

the strange account given

her by Dromio of Ephesus,

that her husband preferred

another woman to his wife.

"Ay, you may look as if

you did not know me,"

she said to the man who

was really her brother-in-law,

"but I can remember when

no words were sweet unless

I said them, no meat

flavorsome unless

I carved it."

"Is it I you address?"

said Antipholus

of Syracuse stiffly.

"I do not know you."

"Fie, brother," said Luciana.

"You know perfectly well that

she sent Dromio to you to bid

you come to dinner;"

and Adriana said,

"Come, come; I have been

made a fool of long enough.

My truant husband shall dine

with me and confess his silly

pranks and be forgiven."

They were determined ladies,

and Antipholus of Syracuse

grew weary of disputing with

them, and followed them

obediently to The Phoenix,

where a very late "mid-day"

dinner awaited them.

They were at dinner when

Antipholus of Ephesus and

his slave Dromio demanded

admittance.

"Maud, Bridget, Marian,

Cecily, Gillian, Ginn!"

shouted Dromio of Ephesus,

who knew all his fellow

servants' names by heart.

From within came the reply,

"Fool, dray-horse,

coxcomb, idiot!"

It was Dromio of Syracuse

unconsciously insulting

his brother.

Master and man did their

best to get in, short of using

a crowbar, and finally

went away; but Antipholus

of Ephesus felt so annoyed

with his wife that he decided

to give a gold chain which

he had promised her,

to another woman.

Inside The Phoenix, Luciana,

who believed Antipholus of

Syracuse to be her sister's

husband, attempted, by a

discourse in rhyme, when

alone with him, to make

him kinder to Adriana.

In reply he told her that

he was not married, but

that he loved her so much

that, if Luciana were a

mermaid, he would gladly

lie on the sea if he might

feel beneath him her

floating golden hair.

Luciana was shocked

and left him, and reported

his lovemaking to Adriana,

who said that her husband

was old and ugly, and not fit

to be seen or heard, though

secretly she was very

fond of him.

Antipholus of Syracuse

soon received a visitor in

the shape of Angelo the

goldsmith, of whom

Antipholus of Ephesus

had ordered the chain

which he had promised

his wife and intended to

give to another woman.

The goldsmith handed the

chain to Antipholus of

Syracuse, and treated his

"I bespoke it not" as mere

fun, so that the puzzled

merchant took the chain

as good humoredly as

he had partaken of

Adriana's dinner.

He offered payment, but

Angelo foolishly said he

would call again.

The consequence was that

Angelo was without money

when a creditor of the sort

that stands no nonsense,

threatened him with arrest

unless he paid his debt

immediately.

This creditor had brought

a police officer with him,

and Angelo was relieved

to see Antipholus of Ephesus

coming out of the house

where he had been dining

because he had been

locked out of The Phoenix.

Bitter was Angelo's dismay

when Antipholus denied

receipt of the chain.

Angelo could have sent

his mother to prison if

she had said that, and

he gave Antipholus of

Ephesus in charge.

At this moment up came

Dromio of Syracuse and

told the wrong Antipholus

that he had shipped his

goods, and that a favorable

wind was blowing.

To the ears of Antipholus

of Ephesus this talk was

simple nonsense.

He would gladly have

beaten the slave, but

contented himself with

crossly telling him to

hurry to Adriana and bid

her send to her arrested

husband a purse of money

which she would find

in his desk.

Though Adriana was furious

with her husband because

she thought he had been

making love to her sister,

she did not prevent Luciana

from getting the purse,

and she bade Dromio of

Syracuse bring home his

master immediately.

Unfortunately, before Dromio

could reach the police station

he met his real master, who

had never been arrested, and

did not understand what he

meant by offering him a purse.

Antipholus of Syracuse was

further surprised when a lady

whom he did not know asked

him for a chain that he had

promised her. She was, of

course, the lady with whom

Antipholus of Ephesus had

dined when his brother was

occupying his place at table.

"Avaunt, thou witch!"

was the answer which,

to her astonishment,

she received.

Meanwhile Antipholus

of Ephesus waited vainly

for the money which was

to have released him.

Never a good tempered man,

he was crazy with anger

when Dromio of Ephesus,

who, of course, had not

been instructed to fetch

a purse, appeared with

nothing more useful than

a rope.

He beat the slave in

the street despite the

remonstrance of the police

officer; and his temper did

not mend when Adriana,

Luciana, and a doctor arrived

under the impression that he

was mad and must have his

pulse felt. He raged so much

that men came forward to

bind him. But the kindness

of Adriana spared him this

shame. She promised to pay

the sum demanded of him,

and asked the doctor to

lead him to The Phoenix.

Angelo's merchant creditor

being paid, the two were

friendly again, and might

soon have been seen

chatting before an abbey

about the odd behavior of Antipholus of Ephesus.

"Softly," said the merchant

at last, "that's he, I think."

It was not; it was Antipholus

of Syracuse with his servant

Dromio, and he wore Angelo's

chain round his neck!

The reconciled pair fairly

pounced upon him to

know what he meant by

denying the receipt of

the chain he had the

impudence to wear.

Antipholus of Syracuse

lost his temper, and drew

his sword, and at that

moment Adriana and

several others appeared.

"Hold!" shouted the

careful wife.

"Hurt him not; he is mad.

Take his sword away.

Bind him, and

Dromio too."

Dromio of Syracuse did

not wish to be bound, and

he said to his master,

"Run, master!

Into that abbey,

quick, or we shall

be robbed!"

They accordingly

retreated into

the abbey.

Adriana, Luciana,

and a crowd remained

outside, and the Abbess

came out, and said,

"People, why do

you gather here?"

"To fetch my poor

distracted husband,"

replied Adriana.

Angelo and the merchant

remarked that they had

not known that he was

mad.

Adriana then told the

Abbess rather too much

about her wifely worries,

for the Abbess received

the idea that Adriana was

a shrew, and that if her

husband was distracted

he had better not return

to her for the present.

Adriana determined, therefore,

to complain to Duke Solinus,

and, lo and behold! a minute

afterwards the great man

appeared with officers and

two others. The others were

AEgeon and the headsman.

The thousand marks had not

been found, and AEgeon's

fate seemed sealed.

Ere the Duke could pass

the abbey Adriana knelt

before him, and told a

woeful tale of a mad

husband rushing about

stealing jewelry and

drawing his sword,

adding that the Abbess

refused to allow her

to lead him home.

The Duke bade the Abbess

be summoned, and no

sooner had he given the

order than a servant from

The Phoenix ran to Adriana

with the tale that his master

had singed off the

doctor's beard.

"Nonsense!" said Adriana,

"he's in the abbey."

"As sure as I live I speak

the truth," said the servant.

Antipholus of Syracuse had

not come out of the abbey,

before his brother of Ephesus

prostrated himself in front

of the Duke, exclaiming,

"Justice, most gracious Duke,

against that woman."

He pointed to Adriana.

"She has treated another

man like her husband in

my own house."

Even while he was speaking

AEgeon said, "Unless I am

delirious, I see my son

Antipholus."

No one noticed him, and

Antipholus of Ephesus went

on to say how the doctor,

whom he called "a threadbare

juggler," had been one of a

gang who tied him to his slave

Dromio, and thrust them into

a vault whence he had

escaped by gnawing

through his bonds.

The Duke could not

understand how the same

man who spoke to him was

seen to go into the abbey,

and he was still wondering

when AEgeon asked

Antipholus of Ephesus if he

was not his son.

He replied, "I never saw my

father in my life;" but so

deceived was AEgeon by

his likeness to the brother

whom he had brought up,

that he said, "Thou art

ashamed to acknowledge

me in misery."

Soon, however, the Abbess

advanced with Antipholus

of Syracuse and Dromio

of Syracuse.

Then cried Adriana,

"I see two husbands or

mine eyes deceive me;"

and Antipholus, spying

his father, said, "Thou art

AEgeon or his ghost."

It was a day of surprises,

for the Abbess said,

"I will free that man by

paying his fine, and gain

my husband whom I lost.

Speak, AEgeon, for I am

thy wife AEmilia."

The Duke was touched.

"He is free without a fine,"

he said.

So AEgeon and AEmilia

were reunited, and Adriana

and her husband reconciled;

but no one was happier than

Antipholus of Syracuse, who,

in the Duke's presence, went

to Luciana and said, "I told

you I loved you. Will you

be my wife?"

Her answer was given by

a look, and therefore is

not written.

The two Dromios were glad

to think they would receive

no more beatings.