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Comedy Of Errors
by
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.