Antipholus of Ephesus speaks with brisk, proprietorial authority — he's used to being obeyed. His language turns sharp and contemptuous under frustration. Watch for how his dignity crumbles in proportion to his anger, and how his proposed solutions escalate from reasonable to rash.
Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all,
My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours.
Say that I linger’d with you at your shop
To see the making of her carcanet,
And that tomorrow you will bring it home.
But here’s a villain that would face me down.
He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,
And charg’d him with a thousand marks in gold,
And that I did deny my wife and house.
Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this?
Look, Signior Angelo, you have to forgive all of us here. My wife gets angry when I'm not home on time. Just tell her I stayed at your shop to watch you make her necklace, and that you'll bring it home tomorrow. But here's this liar trying to claim I beat him. He ran into me at the market and said I hit him, accused me of owing him a thousand gold pieces, and claimed I denied knowing my wife and house. You drunk fool, what was that nonsense?
Look, Signior Angelo, I need you to cut us some slack here. My wife gets mad when I don't come home at a decent hour. Just tell her I was hanging at your shop watching you make her necklace and you'll bring it to her tomorrow. But this guy here is straight-up lying, saying I beat him up. He claims he ran into me at the market and that I hit him, charged him money I didn't owe, and said I don't even know my own wife and house. Hey drunk, what was that all about?
signior, my wife's gonna be mad if im late just say i was at your shop watching the necklace this guy's lying bout me beating him up tho wth dude, what was that?
Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know.
That you beat me at the mart I have your hand to show;
If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,
Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
Say whatever you want, sir, but I know what I know. You beat me at the market—I have the proof on my body. If my skin were parchment and your blows were ink, your handwriting would show everyone what you did.
You can say whatever you want, but I know what actually happened. You beat me at the market, and here's the evidence all over my body. If my skin was paper and those hits were ink, everyone could read your signature right here on me.
i know what happened you beat me at the market my bruises are your signature
I think thou art an ass.
I think you're an ass.
I think you're a complete jerk.
youre an ass
Marry, so it doth appear
By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear.
I should kick, being kick’d; and being at that pass,
You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass.
Yeah, that's exactly right, based on the pain I suffer and the hits I take. I should kick back if I get kicked; in this situation, you'd better watch out for an ass's hooves.
Well, that's obvious, isn't it? Look at the pain and bruises covering my body. If I get kicked, I should kick back, and if that happens, you better keep away from my feet, buddy.
yep youre right thats clear from these bruises dont come near my hooves
You’re sad, Signior Balthasar; pray God our cheer
May answer my good will and your good welcome here.
You look upset, Signior Balthasar. I hope our food and hospitality can make up for it and welcome you properly.
You look kind of down, Signior Balthasar. I really hope the food and everything here makes you feel welcome and happy.
youre looking sad balthasar hope our dinner makes u feel welcome
The reasonable friend: Balthasar speaks in measured, prudential terms — he thinks about reputation, social consequences, and what looks bad. He's not wrong. Watch for how his sensible advice ends up being catastrophically unhelpful.
I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear.
Your fancy dishes don't impress me much, sir, but your warm welcome means everything.
I'm not particularly impressed by your expensive food, but your hospitality is what really counts.
fancy food not impressive but your warmth matters a lot
O, Signior Balthasar, either at flesh or fish
A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
Well, Signior Balthasar, whether it's meat or fish, a table full of warm welcome counts as just one fancy dish.
Signior Balthasar, you know, whether we're serving meat or fish, a really good welcome actually matters way more than any one fancy dish on the table.
the welcome is worth more than any fancy meat or fish
Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.
Good food is ordinary, sir—any common person can provide it.
Good food is pretty easy to come by. Any regular person can serve you meat.
good food is common everyone can make it
And welcome more common, for that’s nothing but words.
BALTHASAR
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
And welcome is even more common—it's nothing but words. BALTHASAR A little bit of food and a lot of welcome makes a cheerful meal.
And welcome is even more common than that—it's just words anyway. A small meal paired with real warmth and hospitality makes for a happy dinner.
welcome is just words but small food + real warmth = good meal
Ay, to a niggardly host and more sparing guest.
But though my cates be mean, take them in good part;
Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.
But soft; my door is lock’d. Go bid them let us in.
Yeah, that's fine for someone stingy and guests who don't eat much. But even though my dishes are simple, take them in good spirit. You could have better food elsewhere, but not better sincerity from me. But wait—my door is locked. Go tell them to let us in.
Sure, that works fine for a cheap host and picky guests. But look, even if the food I'm serving isn't fancy, please enjoy it anyway. You might find better food somewhere else, but you won't find better warmth than what I'm giving. Oh wait, my door is locked. Go tell them to open up for us.
good for cheap hosts + picky guests but my food is simple, try it anyway maybe better food elsewhere, not better heart wait the doors locked
Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn!
Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn—anybody here?
Maud! Bridget! Marian! Cicely! Gillian! Ginn! Is anyone there?
hey ladies maud bridget marian cicely gillian ginn someone answer
[_Within._] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch!
Either get thee from the door or sit down at the hatch:
Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call’st for such store
When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door.
You fool, you blockhead, you castrated fool, you vain idiot, you patchwork fool! Either get away from the door or sit down at the serving hatch. Are you summoning women with magic, that you call for so many when one is already too many? Go, get away from the door.
You blockhead, you idiot, you foolish coward, you're pathetic! Either leave the door or sit down at the kitchen hatch. What are you doing, calling for women like you're summoning spirits? We have enough people—one is already too many. Get away from the door!
you fool blockhead idiot coward leave or sit at the hatch stop calling for women one is enough get away
What patch is made our porter? My master stays in the street.
What kind of useless person is acting as our porter? My master is waiting in the street.
Who's this useless person pretending to be the doorkeeper? My master is stuck out in the street.
whos this weird porter my master is outside waiting
Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on’s feet.
Let him walk back where he came from, so he doesn't catch cold on his feet.
Let him walk back the way he came so his feet don't get cold.
let him go back dont want his feet to get cold
The locked-door scene — voices shouting through a barrier, matching insults, the master unable to enter his own house — is one of Shakespeare's most purely theatrical inventions. It has no parallel in Plautus's source play. Shakespeare stages it as a debate contest with a locked door as the dividing line: on one side, the legitimate authority of the householder; on the other, the improvised authority of the squatters. Dromio of Syracuse, having been told to guard the gate by Adriana, does so with remarkable efficiency and wit. Luce, following the same orders, matches him perfectly. The scene is a demonstration that power is not intrinsic — it's whoever controls the door.
Who talks within there? Ho, open the door.
Who's talking in there? Come on, open the door.
Who's in there talking? Open up the door already.
whos in there open the door
Right, sir, I’ll tell you when an you’ll tell me wherefore.
Right, sir, I'll tell you the reason if you tell me the purpose.
Sure, I'll explain if you explain to me why you want in.
ill tell u if u tell me why
Wherefore? For my dinner. I have not dined today.
Why? Because I need dinner. I haven't eaten today.
Why? Because I'm hungry and I haven't eaten anything all day.
i need dinner havent eaten yet
Nor today here you must not; come again when you may.
No, you can't eat here today. Come back when it's allowed.
Not today you won't. Come back when you're supposed to.
not today come back later
What art thou that keep’st me out from the house I owe?
Who are you to keep me out of the house I own?
Who the hell do you think you are to keep me out of my own house?
who r u to lock me out of my own house
The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio.
I'm the doorkeeper for now, sir, and my name is Dromio.
I'm the doorkeeper right now, sir, and I'm Dromio.
im the porter im dromio
O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name;
The one ne’er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
If thou hadst been Dromio today in my place,
Thou wouldst have chang’d thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass.
You thief! You've stolen both my job and my name. One never got me credit, the other brought me blame. If you'd taken my place as Dromio today, you'd have traded your face for the name, or the name for being an ass.
You thief! You stole both my job and my name. Being called Dromio never helped my reputation, and my actual name didn't either. If you'd been me as Dromio in my spot today, you would've given up your face just to have my name—or traded my name just to avoid being called an ass.
u stole my job and my name neither one got me respect if u had my job youd regret being called dromio
The servant behind the door: Luce speaks with quick wit and zero deference, matching Dromio of Ephesus's taunts with her own. Watch for how she and Dromio of Syracuse operate as a perfect team even though they've only just met.
[_Within._] What a coil is there, Dromio, who are those at the gate?
What a fuss is there, Dromio! Who are those people at the gate?
What's all this noise about, Dromio? Who are all these people at the gate?
what's all this noise dromio who's at the gate
Let my master in, Luce.
Open the door and let my master inside, Luce.
Luce, just open up and let my master in.
luce open the door let my master in
Faith, no, he comes too late,
And so tell your master.
Honestly, he's too late, and that's what I'm telling your master.
Look, he's too late. That's what I'm going to tell your master.
hes too late tell him that
O Lord, I must laugh;
Have at you with a proverb:—Shall I set in my staff?
Oh, this is too funny! I'll come back at you with a saying: Should I put my staff down?
Oh man, this is hilarious! I'll respond with another saying: Should I just plant myself here?
omg this is funny shall i sit down here
Have at you with another: that’s—When? can you tell?
I'll come back at you with a different one: That is—When can you tell?
I'll come back with another one: That is—When do you think that'll be?
ill respond: when can u tell
If thy name be called Luce,—Luce, thou hast answer’d him well.
If your name really is Luce, Luce, you've answered him very well.
If you really are Luce, then Luce, you've got a good comeback there.
luce thats a good comeback
Do you hear, you minion? you’ll let us in, I hope?
Listen here, you little troublemaker—you'll let us in, I hope?
Hey listen up, you little brat. You're going to let us in, right?
hey let us in you better
I thought to have ask’d you.
I was about to ask you the exact same thing.
That's the very question I was about to ask you.
i was about to ask u that
Balthasar's speech about slander — 'forever hous'd where it gets possession' — is not just a dramatic device. It reflects genuine Elizabethan anxiety about reputation as a social asset. In a world without credit ratings, background checks, or permanent records, a man's reputation was his primary commercial and social currency. Slander was a legal offense. Courts regularly tried defamation cases. The fear that Balthasar articulates — that a public scene in front of a locked door will generate gossip that outlasts you — is a real fear about how information traveled in a world without privacy. Shakespeare understood that social reputation was fragile in exactly the way Balthasar describes: once possessed by slander, it becomes hard to evict.
And you said no.
But you told me no.
Yet you refused me.
but u said no
So, come, help. Well struck, there was blow for blow.
Come on, help then. Good blow for blow exchange going on.
Come on, help! They're going blow for blow out here.
come help they're trading punches
Thou baggage, let me in.
You piece of trash, let me in.
You lowlife, let me in right now.
let me in u piece of trash
Can you tell for whose sake?
Can you tell me what reason you'd need to let you in?
You gonna tell me why I should let you in?
why should i let u in
Master, knock the door hard.
Master, pound on the door hard.
Master, bang on that door really hard.
master hit the door hard
Let him knock till it ache.
Let him knock until his hands hurt.
Let him knock until his hands are sore.
let him knock till it hurts
You’ll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down.
You'll regret this, you troublemaker, if I have to smash this door down.
You're going to pay for this, you brat, if I have to break this door to get in.
youre gonna regret this if i break the door
What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town?
Why would you need to do all that and risk getting put in the stocks in town?
Why do all that and risk getting locked in the stocks for the whole town to see?
why break it theyre gonna put u in stocks
[_Within._] Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise?
Who is that at the door making all this noise?
Who is out there making all this racket at the door?
who's at the door making all this noise
By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys.
By my word, your town is full of wild, rude young men.
Honestly, your town is full of wild, out-of-control kids.
your town has crazy boys
Are you there, wife? you might have come before.
Is my wife in there? You could have come to the door earlier.
Are you my wife in there? You could've come out sooner.
wife u there why didnt u open it earlier
Your wife, sir knave? go, get you from the door.
Your wife, you scoundrel? Go on, get away from the door.
Your wife? You fool! Just get away from the door.
your wife get outta here
If you went in pain, master, this knave would go sore.
If you were in pain, master, this scoundrel would feel it even worse.
If you were in pain, master, this jerk would be in even more pain right now.
if u were hurt hed be hurt worse
Angelo the goldsmith is the play's most pragmatic character — he just wants to deliver his work and get paid. He gets pulled into everyone else's chaos without contributing to it. Watch for how he ends up an unwitting instrument of disaster.
Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome. We would fain have either.
There's no cheer here, sir, and no welcome either. We would like to have one or the other.
There's no good food and no hospitality. We'd really like to have at least one of those things.
no food no welcome we want something
In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.
If we keep arguing about which is better, we'll leave with neither.
If we keep debating about what's better, we're going to end up with nothing.
if we keep arguing well get nothing
The play turns on Antipholus of Ephesus's decision to visit the Courtesan. Balthasar argues from prudence: going there is risky for your reputation. Antipholus agrees — and goes anyway, specifically to spite his wife. This is the moment where the farce acquires moral weight. His decision is understandable (he's been humiliated, locked out, mocked), but it's also self-destructive, and he knows it. 'In despite of mirth, mean to be merry' — he's choosing pleasure as revenge. The chain he takes there, which was meant for his wife, becomes the catalyst for Angelo's arrest of him in Act 4. The farce is built from characters making individually reasonable decisions that collectively produce catastrophe.
They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.
They're standing at the door, master. Tell them to come in and be welcome.
They're right at the door, master. Go ahead and welcome them inside.
theyre at the door welcome them in
There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.
Something is wrong—we can't get in.
Something is going on that we can't get inside.
somethings wrong we cant get in
You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.
Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold.
It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought and sold.
You'd say that too, master, if you were standing here in the cold with thin clothes. Your hot meal is inside; you're out here in the cold. It would drive a person mad to be treated this way.
You'd say the same thing if you were freezing out here in thin clothes, master. All the hot food is inside, and you're stuck out here in the cold. It's enough to drive someone crazy being bought and sold like this.
youd be cold too in thin clothes the warm food is inside this will make anyone crazy
Go, fetch me something, I’ll break ope the gate.
Go get me something. I'll break open the gate.
Go get something I can use. I'm going to break this gate open.
get me something im breaking the gate
Break any breaking here, and I’ll break your knave’s pate.
Try any breaking around here, and I'll break your skull open.
You try to break anything, and I'll smash your head in.
try to break it and ill break your skull
A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind;
Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.
A man can break his word with you, sir, and words are just air. Yes, and he can break his word right in your face, as long as he doesn't break it behind you.
A man can break a promise with you, sir, and promises are just hot air anyway. Yeah, he can go back on his word right to your face, as long as he doesn't do it behind your back.
a man can break his word words are just air he can do it to your face
It seems thou want’st breaking; out upon thee, hind!
You seem to need discipline; get out of here, you farmhand!
Looks like you need to be knocked down a peg; get lost, farmhand!
you need discipline. get out, farmhand
Here’s too much “out upon thee”; I pray thee, let me in.
There's too much of this "Get out of here" business. Please let me in.
There's way too much of this "Get out" stuff. Can you just let me in?
enough with the get out let me in
Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin.
Yeah, when birds don't have feathers and fish don't have fins.
Sure, when birds lose their feathers and fish lose their fins.
when birds have no feathers and fish have no fins
Well, I’ll break in; go, borrow me a crow.
Well, I'm going to break in. Go borrow me a crowbar.
Fine, I'm going to break in. Go get me a crowbar.
im breaking in get me a crowbar
A crow without feather; master, mean you so?
For a fish without a fin, there’s a fowl without a feather.
If a crow help us in, sirrah, we’ll pluck a crow together.
A crowbar without feathers? Master, is that what you mean? For a fish without a fin, here's a bird without feathers. If a crowbar helps us get in, we'll rip you apart.
A crowbar without feathers? That's what you mean, master? For a fish without fins, here's a bird without feathers. If a crowbar gets us in, buddy, we'll tear you apart.
a crowbar without feathers if it helps us in well rip u apart
Go, get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow.
Go on, get out of here. Go get me a real iron crowbar.
Come on, go find me an actual metal crowbar.
get me an iron crowbar
Have patience, sir. O, let it not be so:
Herein you war against your reputation,
And draw within the compass of suspect
The unviolated honour of your wife.
Once this,—your long experience of her wisdom,
Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,
Plead on her part some cause to you unknown;
And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse
Why at this time the doors are made against you.
Be rul’d by me; depart in patience,
And let us to the Tiger all to dinner,
And about evening, come yourself alone
To know the reason of this strange restraint.
If by strong hand you offer to break in
Now in the stirring passage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made of it;
And that supposed by the common rout
Against your yet ungalled estimation
That may with foul intrusion enter in,
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead;
For slander lives upon succession,
For ever hous’d where it gets possession.
Please be patient, sir. Stop and think: You're fighting against your own good reputation here. You're putting at risk the spotless honor of your wife. Consider your experience with her—her wisdom, her serious virtue, her age, and modest behavior all speak for her in some way you don't understand. And believe me, sir, she'll have a good reason for why the doors are locked against you. Follow my advice and leave peacefully. Let's all go to the Tiger inn for dinner. And then this evening, come back alone to find out why this strange thing has happened. If you try to force your way in by strength right now when the street is busy, people will talk about it. And you'll get a bad reputation with the mob, people who might spread slander about you and ruin what's left of your good name. Slander gets passed down through generations, and once it settles in somewhere, it never leaves.
Sir, please just wait and think about this. You're basically fighting against your own reputation. You're putting your wife's spotless honor at risk. Look, your whole history with her—her wisdom, her virtue, her age, her respectability—all of that points to her having a very good reason for this. Trust me, she's got an explanation for why she's locked the doors. Just listen to me and leave peacefully. Let's all go eat at the Tiger inn instead. Then tonight, come back by yourself and find out what's really going on. If you force your way in right now while the street is full of people, everyone will be talking about it. That gossip is going to destroy your reputation with ordinary people. Slander has a way of sticking around and getting passed down, and once it takes hold somewhere, it never goes away.
just wait sir youll ruin your reputation let me explain come back tonight alone forcing in will make ppl talk slander sticks around forever
You have prevail’d. I will depart in quiet,
And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.
I know a wench of excellent discourse,
Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle;
There will we dine. This woman that I mean,
My wife (but, I protest, without desert)
Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal;
To her will we to dinner.—Get you home
And fetch the chain, by this I know ’tis made.
Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine,
For there’s the house. That chain will I bestow
(Be it for nothing but to spite my wife)
Upon mine hostess there. Good sir, make haste.
Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
I’ll knock elsewhere, to see if they’ll disdain me.
You've won. I'll leave without making trouble and still have a good time. I know a woman of outstanding conversation—pretty, clever, wild yet also kind—and we will dine with her. This woman I mean is the courtesan; my wife (but I protest I don't deserve her treatment) has often criticized me; to her will we go for dinner. Go home and fetch the chain—it should be finished by now. Bring it to the Porcupine; that's where we'll be. That chain I'll give to my hostess there, for no reason except to upset my wife. Since my own doors refuse to welcome me, I'll go knock on other doors to see if they'll treat me better.
Fine, you've won. I'm leaving peacefully and I'm still going to have a good time. I know this really engaging woman—she's attractive, smart, wild but also sweet—and I'm taking her to dinner. This woman I'm talking about is the courtesan; my wife (and honestly, I don't think I deserve how she's treating me) keeps criticizing me, so I'm going to dinner with this other woman instead. Go home and pick up that chain—it should be done by now. Bring it to the Porcupine; that's where we'll be eating. I'm going to give that chain to the owner of the place, basically just to get back at my wife. My house won't have me, so I'll try somewhere else where people actually want to welcome me.
ok fine. peace out but i'm still having fun. know this cool woman. dining with her instead. wife's been hard on me. giving woman the chain to spite my wife. someone will want me
I’ll meet you at that place some hour hence.
I'll meet you at that place in about an hour.
I'll see you there in about an hour.
ill meet u there in an hour
Do so; this jest shall cost me some expense.
Okay, this joke is going to cost me some money.
Yeah, this whole thing is going to end up being expensive.
this is gonna cost me
The Reckoning
The play's engine reaches full speed. Antipholus of Ephesus gets locked out of his own house by his own wife, who has admitted a man she believes is her husband. The comedy is almost painful: every person involved is acting with perfect internal logic, and every person involved is making the situation worse. Balthasar's calm advice — protect your reputation, come back in the evening — is the most reasonable thing said in this scene, but it leads Antipholus directly toward revenge that will only compound the disaster.
If this happened today…
You arrive home with business guests expecting dinner, only to find the locks have been changed and someone inside who has your face is answering the intercom pretending to be you. Your wife tells you through the door to go away. Your colleague urges you not to make a scene in public — think of your professional reputation. So you take your guests to a bar where a woman you know will treat you well, and decide to give her the expensive gift you originally bought for your wife. Out of spite.