Paul. I did not well, I meant well: All my services, You have paid home; but that you have vouchsaf'd With your crown'd brother, and these your contracted Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit; It is a surplus of your grace, which never My life may last to answer, Lean O Paulina, That which my daughter came to look upon, Paul. Leon. Her natural posture! Chide me, dear stone; that I may say, indeed, Thou art Hermione: or, rather, thou art she, In thy not chiding; for she was as tender, As infancy, and grace. - But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so much wrinkled; nothing So aged, as this seems. O, not by much. Pol Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence; Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her As she liv'd now. Leon. As now she might have done, So much to my good comfort, as it is Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood, Even with such life of majesty, (warm life, As now it coldly stands,) when first I woo'd he! I am asham'd: Does not the stone rebuke me, For being more stone than it? — O, royal piece, There's magick in thy majesty; which has My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, Standing like stone with thee! Per. And give me leave; And do not say, 'tis superstition, that I kneel, and then implore her blessing. — Lady, Dear queen, that ended when I but began, Give me that hand of yours, to kiss. Paul. O, patience : The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's Not dry. Cam My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on: Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, So many summers, dry: scarce any joy Did ever so long live; no sorrow, What you can make her do, I am content to look on: what to speak, I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy To make her speak, as move. Paul. It is requir'd, You do awake your faith: Then, all stand still; Paul. Proceed; Musick; awake her: strike. [Musick. Come; 'Tis time; descend; be stone no more: approach; There's time enough for tha Paul. Lest they desire, upon this push to trouble Your joys with like relation. Go together, You precious winners all; your exultation Partake to every one. I, an old turtle, Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and ther My mate, that's never to be found again, Lament till I am lost. Leon. O peace, Paulina ; Thou should'st a husband take by my consent, As I by thine, a wife; this is a match, And made between's by vows. Thou hast four mine; But how, is to be question'd: for I saw her, As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, said man A prayer upon her grave: I'll not seek far (For him, I partly know his mind,) to find thee An honourable husband: - Come, Camillo, And take her by the hand: whose worth, and h nesty, Is richly noted; and here justified By us, a pair of kings. — Let's from this place. What? Look upon my brother: - both you pardons, That e'er I put between your holy looks SCENE I.-A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Eater DUKE, ÆGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants. Ege. 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 gilders to redeem their lives, Have sealed his rigorous statutes with their bloods, Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks. For, since the mortal and intestine jars 'Twist thy seditious countrymen and us, It hath in solemn synods been decreed, Both by the Syracusans and ourselves, To admit no traffick to our adverse towns: Nay, more, If Αν any, born at Ephesus, be seen any Syracusan marts and fairs, Again, If any Syracusan 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 ransome him. Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die. Ege. Yet this my comfort; when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun. Duke. Well, Syracusan, say, in brief, the cause Why thou departedst from thy native home; And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus. Ege. A heavier task could not have been impos'd, A joyful mother of two goodly sons; Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: We came aboard: A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name,) I hazarded the loss of whom I lov'd. To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse, and so; For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Ege. 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, Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst, course. Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Do me the favour to dilate at full' What hath befall'n of them, and thee, till now. Merchant. Mer. Therefore, give out, you are of Epidamnum Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day, a Syracusan merchant Is apprehended for arrival here; And, not being able to buy out his life, Ant. S. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host Dro. S. Many a man would take you at you word, And go indeed, having so good a mean. [Erit DRO. Ant. S. 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 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 mys And wander up and down, to view the city. Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. Commends me to the thing I cannot get. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus. Here comes the almanack of my true date. — The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit; The meat is cold, because you come not home; Aat. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray; Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dr. E. 0,-sixpence, that I had o'Wednesday Last, To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ; · Ant. &. 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 great a charge from thine own custody? Dra. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner: I from my mistress come to you 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. Aut. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; Reserve them till a merrier hour than this: And tell me, how thou hast dispos'd thy charge. the mart 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; Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, 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, Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner, Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. my heels. [Exit DRO. E. Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other, The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. They say, this town is full of cozenage; As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye, Dark-working sorcerers, that change the mind, Soul-killing witches, that deform the body; Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, And many such like liberties of sin : If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave; I greatly fear, my money is not safe. [Exit. SCENE I. — A publick Place. Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. ACT II. Ar. 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, Time is their master; and, when they see time, more ? Luc. Because their business still lies out o'door. Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. There's nothing, situate under heaven's eye, Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. |