Yet the incessant weepings of my wife—

Weeping before for what she saw must come—

And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,

That mourned for fashion, ignorant what to fear,

Forced me to seek delays for them and me.

And this it was—for other means was none:

The sailors sought for safety by our boat,

And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us.

My wife, more careful for the latter-born,

Had fastened him unto a small spare mast

Such as seafaring men provide for storms.

To him one of the other twins was bound,

Whilst I had been like heedful of the other.

The children thus disposed, my wife and I,

Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixed,

Fastened ourselves at either end the mast,

And floating straight, obedient to the stream,

Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought.

At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,

Dispersed those vapours that offended us,

And by the benefit of his wished light

The seas waxed calm, and we discovered

Two ships from far, making amain to us:

Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this.

But ere they came—O let me say no more!

Gather the sequel by that went before.

DUKE

Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so,

For we may pity though not pardon thee.

EGEON

O, had the gods done so, I had not now

Worthily termed them merciless to us.

For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues,

We were encountered by a mighty rock,

Which being violently borne upon,

Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst,

So that in this unjust divorce of us

Fortune had left to both of us alike

What to delight in, what to sorrow for.

Her part, poor soul, seeming as burdened

With lesser weight but not with lesser woe,

Was carried with more speed before the wind,

And in our sight they three were taken up

By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.

At length another ship had seized on us,

And, knowing whom it was their hap to save,

Gave healthful welcome to their shipwrecked guests,

And would have reft the fishers of their prey

Had not their barque been very slow of sail;

And therefore homeward did they bend their course.

Thus have you heard me severed from my bliss,

That by misfortunes was my life prolonged

To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.

DUKE

And for the sake of them thou sorrow’st for,

Do me the favour to dilate at full

What have befall’n of them and thee till now.

EGEON

My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,

At eighteen years became inquisitive

After his brother, and importuned me

That his attendant—so his case was like,

Reft of his brother, but retained his name—

Might bear him company in the quest of him;

Whom whilst I laboured of a love to see,

I hazarded the loss of whom I loved.

Five summers have I spent in farthest Greece,

Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia,

And coasting homeward came to Ephesus,

Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought

Or that or any place that harbours men.

But here must end the story of my life,

And happy were I in my timely death

Could all my travels warrant me they live.

DUKE

Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have marked

To bear the extremity of dire mishap,

Now trust me, were it not against our laws—

Which princes, would they, may not disannul—

Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,

My soul should sue as advocate for thee.

But though thou art adjudged to the death,

And passed sentence may not be recalled

But to our honour’s great disparagement,

Yet will I favour thee in what I can.

Therefore, merchant, I’ll limit thee this day

To seek thy health by beneficial help.

Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus:

Beg thou or borrow to make up the sum,

And live. If no, then thou art doomed to die.

Jailer, take him to thy custody.

JAILER I will, my lord.

EGEON

Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend,

But to procrastinate his lifeless end.

Exeunt

1.2 Enter ⌈from the bay⌉ Antipholus of Syracuse, Merchant ⌈of Ephesus⌉, and Dromio of Syracuse

MERCHANT ⌈OF EPHESUS⌉

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 (to Dromio)

Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host,

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