SCENE II. The Mart. The Comedy of Errors  Shakespeare homepage  |  Comedy of Errors  | Act 1, Scene 2 

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 Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant  First Merchant  Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, 

 Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. 

 This very day a Syracusian merchant 

 Is apprehended for arrival here; 

 And not being able to buy out his life 

 According to the statute of the town, 

 Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. 

 There is your money that I had to keep. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, 

 And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. 

 Within this hour it will be dinner-time: 

 Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, 

 Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, 

 And then return and sleep within mine inn, 

 For with long travel I am stiff and weary. 

 Get thee away. 

 DROMIO OF SYRACUSE  Many a man would take you at your word, 

 And go indeed, having so good a mean. 



 Exit  ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  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? 

 First Merchant  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 afterward consort you till bed-time: 

 My present business calls me from you now. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  Farewell till then: I will go lose myself 

 And wander up and down to view the city. 

 First Merchant  Sir, I commend you to your own content. 



 Exit  ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  He that commends me to mine own content 

 Commends me to the thing I cannot get. 

 I to the world am like a drop of water 

 That in the ocean seeks another drop, 

 Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, 

 Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: 

 So I, to find a mother and a brother, 

 In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. 



 Enter DROMIO of Ephesus  Here comes the almanac of my true date. 

 What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late: 

 The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, 

 The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; 

 My mistress made it one upon my cheek: 

 She is so hot because the meat is cold; 

 The meat is cold because you come not home; 

 You come not home because you have no stomach; 

 You have no stomach having broke your fast; 

 But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray 

 Are penitent for your default to-day. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: 

 Where have you left the money that I gave you? 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last 

 To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? 

 The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  I am not in a sportive humour now: 

 Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? 

 We being strangers here, how darest thou trust 

 So great a charge from thine own custody? 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  I pray you, air, 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. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; 

 Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. 

 Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, 

 And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  My charge was but to fetch you from the mart 

 Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: 

 My mistress and her sister stays for you. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  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 undisposed: 

 Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  I have some marks of yours upon my pate, 

 Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, 

 But not a thousand marks between you both. 

 If I should pay your worship those again, 

 Perchance you will not bear them patiently. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou? 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; 

 She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, 

 And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. 

 ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, 

 Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. 

 DROMIO OF EPHESUS  What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! 

 Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. 



 Exit  ANTIPHOLUS 

 OF SYRACUSE  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. 



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