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Sil. What would you witn ner, if that I be she?
Jul. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
Sil. From whom?

Jul. From my master, sir Proteus, madam.
Sil. O!-he sends you for a picture?

Jul. Ay, madam.

Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there. [Picture brought.
Go, give your master this: tell him, from me,
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber, than this shadow.
Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.-
Pardon me, madam; I have unadvis'd
Deliver'd you a paper that I should not:
This is the letter to your ladyship.

Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again.
Jul. It may not be; good madam, pardon me.
Sil. There, hold.

I will not look upon your master's lines:
I know they are stuff'd with protestations,

And full of new-found oaths; which he will break,
As easily as I do tear his paper.

Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.
Sil. The more shame for him that he sends it me;
For, I have heard him say a thousand times,
His Julia gave it him at his departure:
Though his false finger have profan'd the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.
Jul. She thanks you.

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Jul. About my stature: for, at Pentecost,
When all our pageants of delight were play'd,
Our youth got me to play the woman's part,
And I was trimm'd in madam Julia's gown;
Which served me as fit, by all men's judgments,
As if the garment had been made for me:
Therefore, I know she is about my height.

| And, at that time, I made her weep a-good,
For I did play a lamentable part;
Madam, 't was Ariadne, passioning
For Theseus' perjury and unjust flight;
Which I so lively acted with my tears,
That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and, would I might be dead,
If I in thought felt not her very sorrow!

Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth!-
Alas, poor lady! desolate and left!-

I weep myself to think upon thy words.
Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this
For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st her.
Farewell.
[Exit SILVIA
Jul. And she shall thank you for 't, if e'er you know
her.

A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful.
I hope my master's suit will be but cold,
Since she respects my mistress' love so much.
Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
Here is her picture: Let me see; I think,
If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely as is this of hers:
And yet the painter flatter'd her a little,
Unless I flatter with myself too much.
Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow :
If that be all the difference in his love,
I'll get me such a colour'd periwig.
Her eyes are grey as glass; and so are mine:
Ay, but her forehead 's low, and mine 's as high.
What should it be, that he respects in her,
But I can make respective in myself,
If this fond love were not a blinded god?
Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,
For 't is thy rival. O thou senseless form,
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, lov'd, and ador'd;
And, were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue in thy stead.
I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
That used me so; or else, by Jove I vow,

I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee!

[Exit

ACT V.

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SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Duke's Palace.

Enter THURIO, PROTEUS, and Julia.

Thu. Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?
Pro. O, sir, I find her milder than she was;

And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
Thu. What, that my leg is too long?

Pro. No, that it is too little.

Thu. I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat rounder. Pro. But love will not be spurr'd to what it loathes. Thu. What says she to my face?

Pro. She says it is a fair one.

Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is black. Pro. But pearls are fair; and the old saying is, Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes. Jul. 'Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies' eyes; For I had rather wink than look on them.

[Aside

• Statue and picture were often used without distinction

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SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest.
Enter VALENTINE.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man.
This snadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,
And to the nightingale's complaining notes
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
Leave not the mansion so long tenantless;
Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;

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Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!
What hallooing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase :

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Pro.

Nor I.

Saw you my daughter?

Neither.

Duke. Why, then, she's fled unto that peasant Valentine;

And Eglamour is in her company.

Tis true; for friar Laurence met them both,
As he in penance wander'd through the forest:
Him he knew well, and guess'd that it was she;
But, being mask'd, he was not sure of it:
Besides, she did intend confession

At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not :
These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence.
Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,
But mount you presently; and meet with me
Upon the rising of the mountain-foot

That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled.
Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.

Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl, That flies her fortune when it follows her: I'll after; more to be reveng'd on Eglamour, Than for the love of reckless Silvia.

[Exit.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love, Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.

[Exit.

SCENE III.-Frontiers of Mantua. The Forest.

Enter SILVIA and Outlaws.

1 Out. Come, come;

Be patient, we must bring you to our captain.
Sil. A thousand more mischances than this one
Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently.
2 Out. Come, bring her away.

1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with her? 3 Out. Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us,

But Moyses and Valerius follow him.

Go thou with her to the west end of the wood,
There is our captain: we'll follow him that's fled.
The thicket is beset, he cannot 'scape.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave; Fear not; he bears an honourable mind, And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. O Valentine, this I endure for thee.

[Exeunt.

By his possessions, Thurio means his lands; but Proteus alludes to his mental endowments, which he says "are out by lease "--are not in his own keeping.

They love me well; yet I have much to do,

To keep them from uncivil outrages.

Withdraw thee, Valentine; who 's this comes here?

[Steps aside

Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA.

Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you, (Though you respect not aught your servant doth,) To hazard life, and rescue you from him

[Aside

That would have forc'd your honour and your love.
Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
Val. How like a dream is this I see and hear!
Love, lend me patience to forbear a while.
Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But, by my coming, I have made you happy.
Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy
Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your presence,

Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O, Heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
And full as much (for more there cannot be)
I do detest false perjur'd Proteus :
Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

[Aside

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death, Would I not undergo for one calm look?

O, 't is the curse in love, and still approv'd,b
When women cannot love where they're belov'd.

Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he 's belov'd.
Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
Descended into perjury, to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou 'dst two.
And that 's far worse than none; better have none
Than plural faith, which is too much by one:
Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!

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Pro.

Valentine!

Let me be bless'd to make this happy close;

Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith or "T were pity two such friends should be long foes. love;

!

For such is a friend now ;) treacherous man
Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me: Now I dare not say
I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me.
Who should be trusted when one's own right hand
Is perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus,

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake.

The private wound is deepest: O time most accurs'd!
'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst.

Pro. My shame, and guilt, confounds me.Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow

Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I tender it here; I do as truly suffer
As e'er I did commit.

Val.

Then I am paid;
And once again I do receive thee honest :--
Who by repentance is not satisfied

Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleas'd;
By penitence the Eternal's wrath 's appeas'd,-
And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine, in Silvia, I give thee.
Jul. O me, unhappy!

Pro.

Look to the boy.

Pro. Bear witness, Heaven, I have my wish for ever.
Jul. And I mine.

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Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia 's mine.
Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death,
Come not within the measure of my wrath:
Do not name Silvia thine; if once again,
Milan shall not behold thee. Here she stands;
Take but possession of her with a touch;-
I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.-
Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
I hold him but a fool, that will endanger
His body for a girl that loves him not:
I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.
Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make such means for her as thou hast done,
And leave her on such slight conditions.-
Now, by the honour of my ancestry,
I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
And think thee worthy of an empress' love!
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.—
Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit,
To which I thus subscribe,-Sir Valentine,
Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd;
Gives a ring. Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her.
Val. I thank your grace; the gift hath made me
happy.

[Faints. Val. Why, boy! Why, wag! how now? what's the matter? Look up; speak.

Jul. O good sir, my master charged me to deliver a ring to madam Silvia; which, out of my neglect, was never done.

Pro. Where is that ring, boy?

Jul. Here 't is this is it.

Pro. How! let me see:

.

Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia.

Jul. O, cry your mercy, sir, I have mistook;
This is the ring you sent to Silvia. [Shows another ring.
Pro. But how camest thou by this ring? at my de-
part, I gave this unto Julia.

Jul. And Julia herself did give it me;
And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
Pro. How! Julia!

Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
And entertain'd them deeply in her heart:
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root?
O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!
Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me
Such an immodest raiment; if shame live
In a disguise of love:

It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,

Women to change their shapes, than men their minds.
Pro. Than men their minds! 't is true; O Heaven!

were man

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I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,

To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.

Duke. I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be.
Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal,
Are men endued with worthy qualities;
Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile:
They are reformed, civil, full of good,

And fit for great employment, worthy lord.

Duke. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and thee;
Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts.
Come, let us go; we will include all jars
With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.

Val. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold
With our discourse to make your grace to smile:
What think you of this page, my lord?

Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.
Val. I warrant you, my lord; more grace than boy.
Duke. What mean you by that saying?
Val. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along,
That you will wonder what hath fortuned.-
Come, Proteus; 't is your penance, but to hear
The story of your loves discovered:

That done, our day of marriage shall be yours;
One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. [Exeunt.

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'THE COMEDY OF ERRORS' was first printed in the folio collection of Shakspere's Plays in 1623. This copy presents many typographical blunders, and in a few passages the text is manifestly corrupt. The difficulties, however, are not very considerable. The Comedy was clearly one of Shakspere's very early plays. It was probably untouched by its author after its first production.

racters is a constantly-increasing triumph to us. The spectators, the readers, have the clue, are let into the secret, by the story of the first scene. Nothing can be more beautifully managed, or is altogether more Shaksperean, than the narrative of Ægeon; and that narrative is so clear and so impressive that the reader never forgets it amidst all the errors and perplexities which follow. It appears to us that every one of an audience In a work by Francis Meres, published in 1598, it of 'The Comedy of Errors,' who keeps his eyes open, is mentioned amongst other dramas of Shakspere. The will, after he has become a little familiar with the perchief evidence of its being a very early play is to be sons of the two Antipholuses and the two Dromios, find found in the great prevalence of that measure which out some clue by which he can detect a difference was known to our language as early as the time of between each, even without "the practical contradictions Chaucer by the name of "rime dogerel." This pecu- which arise as soon as the different parties begin to liarity is to be observed only in three of our author's speak." Each pair of persons selected to play the twins plays,—in 'Love's Labour 's Lost,' in 'The Taming | must be of the same height,—with such general resemof the Shrew,' and in The Comedy of Errors.' It blances of the features as may be made to appear idenwas a distinguishing characteristic of the early English tical by the colour and false hair of the tiring-room,drama. 'The Comedy of Errors' was unquestionably and be dressed with apparently perfect similarity. Bu suggested by The Menæchmi' of Plautus; and it let every care be taken to make the deception perfect, yet furnishes abundant proof of Shakspere's familiarity the observing spectator will detect a difference between with that ancient dramatist. each; some peculiarity of the voice, some "trick o' the eye," some dissimilarity in gait, some minute variation in dress; and, while his curiosity is kept alive by the effort of attention which is necessary for this detection, the riddle will not only not tease him, but its perpetual solution will afford him the utmost satisfaction.

Criticism has justly held that The Comedy of Errors' is essentially a farce, and was meant to be so. Coleridge says, "A proper farce is mainly distinguished from comedy by the licence allowed, and even required, in the fable, in order to produce strange and laughable situations." Nothing, however, can be managed with more skill than the whole dramatic action of this farce. It has been objected that the riddle which is presented throughout the piece teases and wearies the reader and the spectator. Hazlitt says, "In reading the play, from the sameness of the names of the two Antipholuses and the two Dromios, as well as from their being constantly taken for each other by those who see them, it is difficult, without a painful effort of attention, to keep the characters distinct in the mind. And again, on the stage, either the complete similarity of their persons and dress must produce the same perplexity whenever they first enter, or the identity of appearance, which the story supposes, will be destroyed. We still, however, having a clue to the difficulty, can tell which is which, merely from the contradictions which arise as soon as the different parties begin to speak; and we are indemnified for the perplexity and blunders into which we are thrown, by seeing others thrown into greater and almost inextricable ones." Hazlitt has here, almost undesignedly, pointed out the source of the pleasure which, with an "effort of attention,"-not a "painful effort," we think,- -a reader or spectator of The Comedy of Errors' is sure to receive from this drama. We have "a clue to the difficulty ;""-we know more than the actors in the drama;-we may be a little perplexed, but the deep perplexity of the cha

But has not Shakspere himself furnished a clue to the understanding of the Errors, by his marvellous skill in the delineation of character? Pope forcibly remarked that, if our poet's dramas were printed without the names of the persons represented being attached to the individual speeches, we should know who is speak ing by his wonderful discrimination in assigning to every character appropriate modes of thought and expression. It appears to us that this is unquestionably the case with the characters of each of the twin-brothers in The Comedy of Errors.' The Antipholus of Ephesus is strikingly opposed to the Antipholus of Syracuse : he is neither sedate, nor gentle, nor truly loving, as his brother is;-he has no habits of self-command;-his temperament is sensual. The two Dromios each have their "merry jests;" they each bear a beating with wonderful good temper; they each cling faithfully to their master's interests. But there is certainly a marked difference in the quality of their mirth. The Dromio of Ephesus is precise and antithetical, striving to utter his jests with infinite gravity and discretion. On the contrary, the "merry jests" of Dromio of Syracuse all come from the outpouring of his gladsome heart. Of course the characters of the twins could not be violently contrasted, for that would have destroyed the illusion. They must still

"Go hand in hand, not one before another.'

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