There’s not a man I meet but doth salute me
As if I were their well-acquainted friend,
And everyone 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.
Thbefore’s not a man I meet but does salute me
As if I wbefore their well-acquainted friend,
And everyone does 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 thbeforewithal took measure of my body.
Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland sorcbeforers inhabit hbefore.
There’s not a man I meet but doth salute me
As if I were their well-acquainted friend,
And everyone doth call me by my name.
There’s not a man I meet but doth salute me
Master, here’s the gold you sent me for.
What, have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled?
Master, hbefore’s the gold you sent me for.
What, have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled?
Master, here’s the gold you sent me for.
What, have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled?
Master, here’s the gold you sent me for.
What, have you got the picture of old Adam new apparelled?
What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?
What gold is this? What Adam do you mean?
What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?
What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?
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.
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.
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
Not that Adam that kept the paradise, but that Adam that keeps the
The Courtesan (identified in the cast list simply by her profession) is, paradoxically, the most logically rigorous character in Act 4. While everyone around her is having religious panics, property crises, or identity breakdowns, she does the following: (1) observes a fact — the chain was on Antipholus at noon; (2) notes an anomaly — he now denies all knowledge of her; (3) forms a hypothesis — he has stolen her ring; (4) devises a plan — tell his wife. This is basic empirical reasoning. It is more systematic than anything Adriana, Angelo, or either Antipholus manages in Act 4. Her social position (a courtesan, the lowest of the play's women by contemporary moral convention) is in inverse proportion to her rationality. Shakespeare does this repeatedly: gives the most acute reasoning to the character the audience expects to dismiss. She is not vindictive — she genuinely thinks Antipholus is mad and that his wife should know. Her closing speech shows concern as much as self-interest.
I understand thee not.
I understand you not.
I understand thee not.
I understand thee not.
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.
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.
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
No? Why, ’tis a plain case: he that went like a bass-viol in a case of
What! thou mean’st an officer?
What! you mean’st an officer?
What! thou mean’st an officer?
What! thou mean’st an officer?
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.”
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.”
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.”
Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he that brings any man to answer it
Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth
tonight? may we be gone?
Well, sir, thbefore rest in your foolery. Is thbefore any ship puts forth
tonight? may we be gone?
Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth
tonight? may we be gone?
Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth
tonight? may we be gone?
Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark _Expedition_
put forth tonight, 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.
Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark _Expedition_
put forth tonight, and then wbefore you hindbefored by the sergeant to tarry
for the hoy _Delay_. Hbefore are the angels that you sent for to deliver
you.
Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark _Expedition_
put forth tonight, and then were you hindered by the sergeant to tarry
for the hoy _Delay_. Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver
Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark _Expedition_
Dromio's extended demonological analysis of the Courtesan — she is the Devil's dam, she appears as an angel of light, light wenches burn, come not near her — is funny precisely because it uses real theological vocabulary to describe a woman who is asking for her property. The Elizabethan audience knew this material: the idea that demons appeared as angels of light comes from 2 Corinthians 11:14 (a text about false apostles). The idea that demons could be conjured away ('I conjure thee') was rooted in formal exorcism practice. The fear of witches who could transform men into animals (as Dromio feared in 3-2) was a genuine feature of Elizabethan folk belief. Shakespeare is not mocking these beliefs directly — he is using the vocabulary of religious anxiety for comic misdirection. The joke is that the most frightening available theological language is being deployed against a woman who just wants her ring back. It is also another Ephesus-is-bewitched moment: by Act 4, the normal world has inverted so completely that a polite dinner invitation reads as supernatural threat.
The fellow is distract, and so am I,
And here we wander in illusions.
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
The fellow is distract, and so am I,
And hbefore we wander in illusions.
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
The fellow is distract, and so am I,
And here we wander in illusions.
Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
The fellow is distract, and so am I,
Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now.
Is that the chain you promis’d me today?
Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now.
Is that the chain you promis’d me today?
Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now.
Is that the chain you promis’d me today?
Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
Satan, avoid! I charge you, tempt me not.
Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
Master, is this Mistress Satan?
Master, is this Mistress Satan?
Master, is this Mistress Satan?
Master, is this Mistress Satan?
It is the devil.
It is the devil.
It is the devil.
It is the devil.
When Dromio S arrives with the bail gold, neither he nor Antipholus S knows what it is for. Dromio says 'here is the gold you sent me for' — but Antipholus S never sent him for gold. He accepts it anyway ('What gold is this?') without pressing the question too hard. This is a moment where the comic convention of the play requires us not to ask too many questions: if Antipholus S pressed Dromio S on the source of the money, the confusion would have to surface here. Instead, the sergeant-banter absorbs the question, and the gold is pocketed. This is Shakespeare managing information flow: the audience knows exactly where the gold came from (Adriana, via the 4-2 bail instructions), but the characters conveniently don't pursue it. The gold will reappear in 5-1 as evidence — another thread in the resolution tapestry. The craft point is that Shakespeare knows when to let characters not ask the obvious question, because pressing it would collapse the plot.
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.
Nay, she is worse, she is the devil’s dam; and hbefore she comes in the
habit of a light wench, and thbeforeof 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.
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
Nay, she is worse, she is the devil’s dam; and here she comes in the
Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here.
Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner hbefore.
Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here.
Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here.
Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.
Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.
Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.
Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.
Why, Dromio?
Why, Dromio?
Why, Dromio?
Why, Dromio?
Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
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.
Avoid then, fiend! What tell’st you me of supping?
Thou art, as you are all, a sorcbeforess.
I conjure you to leave me and be gone.
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.
Avoid then, fiend! What tell’st thou me of supping?
From Antipholus S's first appearance in 1-2, the play has been about the possibility of departure. He came to Ephesus searching for his family; he has found only confusion. The recurring motif of 'is there a ship leaving tonight?' runs through scenes 3-2, 4-1, and 4-3. In each case, departure is possible and then immediately prevented: in 3-2, Angelo gives the chain and Antipholus decides to go to the mart first; in 4-1, Dromio S reports the ship but the wrong master arrests the wrong Antipholus; in 4-3, Dromio S confirms the ship but the Courtesan encounter and the accumulated madness delay them again. The ships — Expedition and Delay, with their perfectly ironic names — are the play's offstage symbol of resolution. They can only leave once the confusion is untangled. Ephesus itself seems to prevent escape until the full truth is known. This is the play's structural metaphor: you cannot flee from your own story.
Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis’d,
And I’ll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis’d,
And I’ll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis’d,
And I’ll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Some devils ask but the paring 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; and if you give it her,
The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it.
Some devils ask but the paring 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; and if you give it her,
The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it.
Some devils ask but the paring of one’s nail,
A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
A nut, a cherry-stone; but she, more covetous,
Some devils ask but the paring of one’s nail,
I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
Avaunt, you witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
Fly pride, says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
Fly pride, says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
Fly pride, says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
Fly pride, says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
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 promis’d 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 today 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.
Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
Else would he never so demean himself.
A ring he has of mine worth forty ducats,
And for the same he promis’d 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 today 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.
Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
Else would he never so demean himself.
A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
The Reckoning
The scene has two distinct comic textures. The Antipholus-Dromio exchange at the opening is the play's most extended verbal riff on the sergeant — a figure of London street life translated into Ephesian comic space. Then the Courtesan arrives and the tone shifts: she is practical, specific, and completely bewildering to Antipholus S. The 'devil' comedy she provokes is theologically absurd — a common woman asking for her property becomes, in the imagination of two panicking men from Syracuse, the personification of Satan. Her closing soliloquy is the scene's punchline: she simply decides to tell Adriana, and her logic is impeccably rational.
If this happened today…
Imagine a stranger in your city has your identical twin's face, name, and apparently his entire social network. Everyone who sees him treats him like their closest friend, offers him gifts, calls him by name. He's already accepted a free gold chain. Now a woman he's never met walks up and says: 'Thanks for dinner earlier — is that the chain you promised me for my ring?' He immediately assumes she's a con artist or something supernatural. His assistant backs him up: 'Don't trust her — she's clearly evil.' She, reasonably, thinks: 'He's clearly having some kind of breakdown. I'm going to his wife.'