SCENE III. A public place. The Comedy of Errors  Shakespeare homepage  |  Comedy of Errors  | Act 4, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE III. A public place. 

 Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  There's not a man I meet but doth salute me 

 As if I were their well-acquainted friend; 

 And every one doth call me by my name. 

 Some tender money to me; some invite me; 

 Some other give me thanks for kindnesses; 

 Some offer me commodities to buy: 

 Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop 

 And show'd me silks that he had bought for me, 

 And therewithal took measure of my body. 

 Sure, these are but imaginary wiles 

 And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. 



 Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have 

 you got the picture of old Adam new-apparelled? 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean? 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Not that Adam that kept the Paradise but that Adam 

 that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf's 

 skin that was killed for the Prodigal; he that came 

 behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you 

 forsake your liberty. 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  I understand thee not. 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went, like a 

 bass-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, 

 that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a sob 

 and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed 

 men and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up 

 his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a 

 morris-pike. 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  What, thou meanest an officer? 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band, he that brings 

 any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that 

 thinks a man always going to bed, and says, 'God 

 give you good rest!' 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the 

 bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were 

 you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy 

 Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to 

 deliver you. 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  The fellow is distract, and so am I; 

 And here we wander in illusions: 

 Some blessed power deliver us from hence! 



 Enter a Courtezan  COURTEZAN  Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. 

 I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now: 

 Is that the chain you promised me to-day? 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not. 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Master, is this Mistress Satan? 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  It is the devil. 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here 

 she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof 

 comes that the wenches say 'God damn me;' that's as 

 much to say 'God make me a light wench.' It is 

 written, they appear to men like angels of light: 

 light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; 

 ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her. 

 COURTEZAN  Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. 

 Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here? 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat; or bespeak a 

 long spoon. 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  Why, Dromio? 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with 

 the devil. 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping? 

 Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress: 

 I conjure thee to leave me and be gone. 

 COURTEZAN  Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, 

 Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised, 

 And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you. 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail, 

 A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, 

 A nut, a cherry-stone; 

 But she, more covetous, would have a chain. 

 Master, be wise: an if you give it her, 

 The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it. 

 COURTEZAN  I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain: 

 I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. 

 ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE  Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go. 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  'Fly pride,' says the peacock: mistress, that you know. 



 Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse  COURTEZAN  Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad, 

 Else would he never so demean himself. 

 A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, 

 And for the same he promised me a chain: 

 Both one and other he denies me now. 

 The reason that I gather he is mad, 

 Besides this present instance of his rage, 

 Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner, 

 Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. 

 Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits, 

 On purpose shut the doors against his way. 

 My way is now to hie home to his house, 

 And tell his wife that, being lunatic, 

 He rush'd into my house and took perforce 

 My ring away. This course I fittest choose; 

 For forty ducats is too much to lose. 



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