finished_summaries/shmoop/The Comedy of Errors/section_5_part_0.txt
The Comedy of Errors.act iii.scene ii
act iii, scene ii
{"name": "Act III, Scene ii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219160210/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/comedy-of-errors/summary/act-iii-scene-ii", "summary": "Still at E. Antipholus's house, the confusion we've just seen outside is almost as bad as the confusion going on inside. Remember S. Antipholus has just had dinner with Adriana and Luciana . Dinner must've been pretty good , because S. Antipholus has presently declared his love for Luciana. Of course, this is complicated by the fact that Luciana thinks her brother-in-law is coming onto her. Luciana wonders just how E. Antipholus can turn from loving his wife to being so unfaithful. She says Antipholus may have married her sister for money, but she wishes he'd be better to her for the money's sake, then. Luciana doesn't tell him to be faithful, exactly. Instead, she recommends that if he does love another, that he do it stealthily, as it's one offense to cheat on your wife, and an entirely different offense to let the poor woman know about it. According to Luciana, a man should hide his infidelity for his wife's sake. Luciana finally deflects S. Antipholus by saying women are gullible, and will believe what men want them to believe, especially if the men can flatter them by claiming true love. S. Antipholus is undeterred. Again, he wonders how Luciana even knows his name. He admits he doesn't really know her name, and decides that she must be some divine creature. He pleads with her to be his mentor, and teach him the ways of the world and himself. Finally, S. Antipholus rightly asserts that he has no wife, and either way, he prefers Luciana to Adriana. Besides, Adriana is inside the house crying as they speak. S. Antipholus wishes Luciana would do more with her power than just try to get him to love her sister. He basically declares Luciana to be the apple of his eye. Luciana is weirded out and runs off to try to comfort her sister. Just then, S. Dromio runs in, out of breath. S. Dromio says this woman, the unattractive kitchen wench, claims that he's her man. Though the girl's not appealing, she did know Dromio by name. Even creepier, she knew about all the marks and moles on his body. This is no woman to bring home to mom , so Dromio ran from her as though she were a witch. S. Antipholus has clearly had enough, and his plan is to get the hell out. He sends S. Dromio to go find out if any ships are leaving immediately. He'd really rather not spend the night in this creepy place that's clearly enchanted by witches and full of awful women who claim he and Dromio for their husbands. Still, S. Antipholus will be a little sad to leave Luciana, who has enchanted him. Now, Angelo the goldsmith shows up with E. Antipholus's gold chain for his wife. He mistakes S. Antipholus for E. Antipholus, and happily gives him the chain, so glad to meet him before he went to the Porpentine. Of course, S. Antipholus has no idea what's going on, but he doesn't refuse the necklace because it's pretty. He tries to pay Angelo on the spot, but Angelo refuses . S. Antipholus, thinking golden gifts are raining from the sky, decides to accept his gift. He'll meet Dromio at the marketplace and leave Ephesus as soon as possible.", "analysis": ""}
_SCENE II.

The same._

  _Enter LUCIANA and _ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse_._

_Luc._ And may it be that you have quite forgot
    A husband's office? shall, Antipholus,
Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot?
    Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous?
If you did wed my sister for her wealth,                             5
    Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness:
Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth;
    Muffle your false love with some show of blindness:
Let not my sister read it in your eye;
    Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;                       10
Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty;
    Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger;
Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted;
    Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint;
Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?                       15
    What simple thief brags of his own attaint?
'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed,
    And let her read it in thy looks at board:
Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed;
    Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word.                        20
Alas, poor women! make us but believe,
    Being compact of credit, that you love us;
Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve;
    We in your motion turn, and you may move us.
Then, gentle brother, get you in again;                             25
    Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife:
'Tis holy sport, to be a little vain,
    When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.

_Ant. S._ Sweet mistress,--what your name is else, I know not,
    Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine,--                        30
Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not
    Than our earth's wonder; more than earth divine.
Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;
    Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit,
Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,                         35
    The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
Against my soul's pure truth why labour you
    To make it wander in an unknown field?
Are you a god? would you create me new?
    Transform me, then, and to your power I'll yield.               40
But if that I am I, then well I know
    Your weeping sister is no wife of mine,
Nor to her bed no homage do I owe:
    Far more, far more to you do I decline.
O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,                      45
    To drown me in thy sister flood of tears:
Sing, siren, for thyself, and I will dote:
    Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
And as a bed I'll take them, and there lie;
    And, in that glorious supposition, think                        50
He gains by death that hath such means to die:
    Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink!

_Luc._ What, are you mad, that you do reason so?

_Ant. S._ Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.

_Luc._ It is a fault that springeth from your eye.                  55

_Ant. S._ For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.

_Luc._ Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight.

_Ant. S._ As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.

_Luc._ Why call you me love? call my sister so.

_Ant. S._ Thy sister's sister.

_Luc._                       That's my sister.

_Ant. S._                                    No;                    60
It is thyself, mine own self's better part,
Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim,
My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.

_Luc._ All this my sister is, or else should be.                    65

_Ant. S._ Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee.
Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life:
Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife.
Give me thy hand.

_Luc._          O, soft, sir! hold you still:
I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.    [_Exit._             70

  _Enter _DROMIO of Syracuse_._

_Ant. S._ Why, how now, Dromio! where runn'st thou
so fast?

_Dro. S._ Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I
your man? am I myself?

_Ant. S._ Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art                75
thyself.

_Dro. S._ I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and
besides myself.

_Ant. S._ What woman's man? and how besides thyself?

_Dro. S._ Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a                 80
woman; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that
will have me.

_Ant. S._ What claim lays she to thee?

_Dro. S._ Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to
your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that,             85
I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, being
a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.

_Ant. S._ What is she?

_Dro. S._ A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man
may not speak of, without he say Sir-reverence. I have              90
but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a wondrous fat
marriage.

_Ant. S._ How dost thou mean a fat marriage?

_Dro. S._ Marry, sir, she's the kitchen-wench, and all
grease; and I know not what use to put her to, but to make          95
a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant,
her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a Poland
winter: if she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week
longer than the whole world.

_Ant. S._ What complexion is she of?                               100

_Dro. S._ Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like
so clean kept: for why she sweats; a man may go over
shoes in the grime of it.

_Ant. S._ That's a fault that water will mend.

_Dro. S._ No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not           105
do it.

_Ant. S._ What's her name?

_Dro. S._ Nell, sir; but her name and three quarters,
that's an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from
hip to hip.                                                        110

_Ant. S._ Then she bears some breadth?

_Dro. S._ No longer from head to foot than from hip to
hip: she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out countries
in her.

_Ant. S._ In what part of her body stands Ireland?                 115

_Dro. S._ Marry, sir, in her buttocks: I found it out by
the bogs.

_Ant. S._ Where Scotland?

_Dro. S._ I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm
of the hand.                                                       120

_Ant. S._ Where France?

_Dro. S._ In her forehead; armed and reverted, making
war against her heir.

_Ant. S._ Where England?

_Dro. S._ I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find         125
no whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin, by
the salt rheum that ran between France and it.

_Ant. S._ Where Spain?

_Dro. S._ Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her
breath.                                                            130

_Ant. S._ Where America, the Indies?

_Dro. S._ Oh, sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellished
with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspect
to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole armadoes
of caracks to be ballast at her nose.                              135

_Ant. S._ Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?

_Dro. S._ Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude,
this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; called me
Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what privy
marks I had about me, as, the mark of my shoulder, the             140
mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that
I, amazed, ran from her as a witch:

And, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith, and
        my heart of steel,
She had transform'd me to a curtal dog, and made me turn
        i' the wheel.

_Ant. S._ Go hie thee presently, post to the road:--               145
An if the wind blow any way from shore,
I will not harbour in this town to-night:--
If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
Where I will walk till thou return to me.
If every one knows us, and we know none,                           150
'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be gone.

_Dro. S._ As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly I from her that would be my wife.    [_Exit._

_Ant. S._ There's none but witches do inhabit here;
And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.                    155
She that doth call me husband, even my soul
Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister,
Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,
Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
Hath almost made me traitor to myself:                             160
But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.

  _Enter ANGELO with the chain._

_Ang._ Master Antipholus,--

_Ant. S._                  Ay, that's my name.

_Ang._ I know it well, sir:--lo, here is the chain.
I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine:                     165
The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.

_Ant. S._ What is your will that I shall do with this?

_Ang._ What please yourself, sir: I have made it for you.

_Ant. S._ Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not.

_Ang._ Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have.             170
Go home with it, and please your wife withal;
And soon at supper-time I'll visit you,
And then receive my money for the chain.

_Ant. S._ I pray you, sir, receive the money now,
For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more.                       175

_Ang._ You are a merry man, sir: fare you well.    [_Exit._

_Ant. S._ What I should think of this, I cannot tell:
But this I think, there's no man is so vain
That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.
I see a man here needs not live by shifts,                         180
When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay:
If any ship put out, then straight away.    [_Exit._



  NOTES: III, 2.

  SCENE II. Enter LUCIANA] F2. Enter JULIANA F1.
  1: Luc.] Rowe. Julia Ff.
  2: _Antipholus_] _Antipholis, hate_ Theobald. _Antipholis, thus_
    Id. conj. _a nipping hate_ Heath conj. _unkind debate_ Collier MS.
  4: _building_] Theobald. _buildings_ Ff.
  _ruinous_] Capell (Theobald conj.). _ruinate_ Ff.
  16: _attaint_] Rowe. _attaine_ F1 F2 F3. _attain_ F4.
  20: _are_] F2 F3 F4. _is_ F1.
  21: _but_] Theobald. _not_ Ff.
  26: _wife_] _wise_ F1.
  35: _shallow_] F1. _shaddow_ F2 F3. _shadow_ F4.
  43: _no_] F1. _a_ F2 F3 F4.
  44: _decline_] _incline_ Collier MS.
  46: _sister_] F1. _sister's_ F2 F3 F4.
  49: _bed_] F2 F3 F4. _bud_ F1. _bride_ Dyce.
  _them_] Capell (Edwards conj.). _thee_ Ff.
  52: _she_] _he_ Capell.
  57: _where_] Pope. _when_ Ff.
  66: _am_] _mean_ Pope. _aim_ Capell.
  71: SCENE III. Pope.
  93: _How_] _What_ Capell.
  97: _Poland_] _Lapland_ Warburton.
  108: _and_] Theobald (Thirlby conj). _is_ Ff.
  120: _the_] Ff. _her_ Rowe.
  122: _forehead_] _sore head_ Jackson conj.
  _reverted_] _revolted_ Grant White.
  123: _heir_] _heire_ F1. _haire_ F2 F3. _hair_ F4.
  125: _chalky_] _chalkle_ F1.
  135: _caracks_] Hanmer. _carrects_ F1. _carracts_ F2 F3 F4.
  _ballast_] _ballasted_ Capell.
  138: _drudge, or_] _drudge of the Devil, this_ Warburton.
  _or diviner_] _this divine one_ Capell conj.
  140: _mark_] _marke_ F1. _marks_ F2 F3 F4.
  143: _faith_] _flint_ Hanmer.
  143, 144: Printed as prose in Ff. As verse first by Knight.
  144: _curtal_] F4. _curtull_ F1. _curtall_ F2 F3. _cur-tail_ Hanmer.
  146: _An_] Capell. _And_ Ff.
  150: _knows us_] _know us_ Johnson.
  154: SCENE IV. Pope.
  161: _to_] _of_ Pope.
  164: _here is_] Pope. _here's_ Ff.
  177: Ant. S.] Ant. F1 F4. Dro. F2 F3.
  181: _streets_] _street_ Capell conj.





Act III, Scene ii
Still at E. Antipholus's house, the confusion we've just seen outside is almost as bad as the confusion going on inside. Remember S. Antipholus has just had dinner with Adriana and Luciana . Dinner must've been pretty good , because S. Antipholus has presently declared his love for Luciana. Of course, this is complicated by the fact that Luciana thinks her brother-in-law is coming onto her. Luciana wonders just how E. Antipholus can turn from loving his wife to being so unfaithful. She says Antipholus may have married her sister for money, but she wishes he'd be better to her for the money's sake, then. Luciana doesn't tell him to be faithful, exactly. Instead, she recommends that if he does love another, that he do it stealthily, as it's one offense to cheat on your wife, and an entirely different offense to let the poor woman know about it. According to Luciana, a man should hide his infidelity for his wife's sake. Luciana finally deflects S. Antipholus by saying women are gullible, and will believe what men want them to believe, especially if the men can flatter them by claiming true love. S. Antipholus is undeterred. Again, he wonders how Luciana even knows his name. He admits he doesn't really know her name, and decides that she must be some divine creature. He pleads with her to be his mentor, and teach him the ways of the world and himself. Finally, S. Antipholus rightly asserts that he has no wife, and either way, he prefers Luciana to Adriana. Besides, Adriana is inside the house crying as they speak. S. Antipholus wishes Luciana would do more with her power than just try to get him to love her sister. He basically declares Luciana to be the apple of his eye. Luciana is weirded out and runs off to try to comfort her sister. Just then, S. Dromio runs in, out of breath. S. Dromio says this woman, the unattractive kitchen wench, claims that he's her man. Though the girl's not appealing, she did know Dromio by name. Even creepier, she knew about all the marks and moles on his body. This is no woman to bring home to mom , so Dromio ran from her as though she were a witch. S. Antipholus has clearly had enough, and his plan is to get the hell out. He sends S. Dromio to go find out if any ships are leaving immediately. He'd really rather not spend the night in this creepy place that's clearly enchanted by witches and full of awful women who claim he and Dromio for their husbands. Still, S. Antipholus will be a little sad to leave Luciana, who has enchanted him. Now, Angelo the goldsmith shows up with E. Antipholus's gold chain for his wife. He mistakes S. Antipholus for E. Antipholus, and happily gives him the chain, so glad to meet him before he went to the Porpentine. Of course, S. Antipholus has no idea what's going on, but he doesn't refuse the necklace because it's pretty. He tries to pay Angelo on the spot, but Angelo refuses . S. Antipholus, thinking golden gifts are raining from the sky, decides to accept his gift. He'll meet Dromio at the marketplace and leave Ephesus as soon as possible.