Sil. What would you witn ner, if that I be she? Jul. From my master, sir Proteus, madam. Jul. Ay, madam. Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there. [Picture brought. Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again. I will not look upon your master's lines: And full of new-found oaths; which he will break, Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring. Jul. About my stature: for, at Pentecost, | And, at that time, I made her weep a-good, Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth!- I weep myself to think upon thy words. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful. I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes, [Exit ACT V. 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? And yet she takes exceptions at your person. 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 SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest. Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man. Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain! 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, At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not : That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled. 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. 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, 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. Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, [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 Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he 's belov'd. Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou 'dst two. 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 I am sorry I must never trust thee more, The private wound is deepest: O time most accurs'd! 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 Val. Then I am paid; Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleas'd; Pro. Look to the boy. Pro. Bear witness, Heaven, I have my wish for ever. Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia 's mine. [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; Jul. And Julia herself did give it me; Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths, It is the lesser blot, modesty finds, Women to change their shapes, than men their minds. were man 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. And fit for great employment, worthy lord. Duke. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and thee; Val. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes. That done, our day of marriage shall be yours; '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.' |