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.
Every person I meet treats me like their good friend and calls me by my name. Some offer me money, some invite me to things, some thank me for kindnesses I've done them, some offer to sell me goods. Just now a tailor called me into his shop, showed me silks he had bought for me, and took my body measurements. Surely these must be tricks of the imagination, and it must be that sorcerers from Lapland live in this town.
Everywhere I go, people act like they know me. They're all calling me by name, offering me money, inviting me places, thanking me for things I've never done. A tailor literally just called me over and showed me fabrics he claimed to have bought for me, then measured me for clothes. This has to be some kind of con, or maybe there are people practicing real magic here.
everyone i meet acts like my best friend they're offering me money, gifts, clothes a tailor literally measured me for silks this is either a setup or witchcraft
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 to get. What, have you gotten the picture of old Adam freshly dressed up?
Hey, I got the money you asked for. So did you pick up that painting of old Adam with the new clothes?
got ur gold did u get adam's portrait?
What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?
What gold is this? Which Adam are you talking about?
What gold? What Adam are you going on about?
what gold? which adam?
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 the Adam who guarded paradise, but the Adam who guards the jail. The man who wears leather like the calf that was killed for the Prodigal. He who came behind you like a demon and told you to abandon your freedom.
Not the Adam from the garden of Eden, but the Adam who runs the prison. You know, the one who dresses in leather like a dead cow and follows you around like a demon telling you to give up your freedom.
not adam from eden adam the prison guard the guy in leather who kills freedom
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 don't understand what you're saying.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
i don't get it
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.
The man who moves like a bass-viol in its leather case. That man, sir, who when gentlemen are tired, gives them a rest. He who takes pity on poor men and gives them suits of imprisonment. He who sets himself to perform more dramatic acts with his mace than a morris-pike.
The guy who moves like a stringed instrument in a leather case. You know, the officer who shows up when men get tired and gives them a place to rest, takes pity on broke guys by dressing them in prison uniforms, swings his club like he's performing.
the dude who moves like a bass in a case gives tired men a "rest" dresses poor guys in prison clothes
What! thou mean’st an officer?
You mean an officer, then?
So you're talking about an officer?
so 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.”
Yes sir, the sergeant of the band of officers. He who brings any man to account if they break their bond. One who thinks every man is always going to bed and says to them, "God give you good rest."
Yeah, the officer sergeant. The guy who shows up to make people pay for breaking their agreements. He's always going on about rest, telling people "sleep well."
yeah the sergeant arrests guys who break deals always wishing them rest
Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth
tonight? may we be gone?
Well sir, drop the clowning around. Is there any ship leaving tonight? Can we get away?
Okay enough joking around. Is there a boat leaving tonight? Can we get out of here?
stop playing around any ships tonight? can we bail?
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.
Sir, I told you an hour ago that the ship Expedition was leaving tonight, but then you were stopped by the sergeant and made to wait for the ship Delay. Here are the gold coins you sent me to get so I could free you.
I told you an hour ago the ship called Expedition was leaving tonight, but then the sergeant grabbed you and made you wait for another ship. Here's the money you gave me to bail you out.
i told u the expedition sails tonight but sergeant stopped u here's ur bail money
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!
This fellow is out of his mind, and so am I, and we're lost in confusion here. Some blessed power rescue us from this place!
This guy's lost it, and honestly I'm losing it too. We're stuck in this nightmare. Please, something good has to get us out of here!
he's insane and so am i we're drowning in this madness someone save us
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 you've found the goldsmith now. Is that the chain you promised me today?
Hey, great to see you! So you finally tracked down the goldsmith. Is that the necklace you promised me earlier?
hey! u got the goldsmith is that my chain?
Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
Demon, get away! I command you, do not tempt me.
Get away from me, devil! I'm not falling for whatever you're trying to do.
devil back off no way
Master, is this Mistress Satan?
Master, could this person actually be the witch they call Mistress Satan?
Master, is this the devil woman?
is this lady satan?
It is the devil.
She is a creature of pure evil.
That's the devil right there.
she's pure evil
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.
No, she's worse, she's the devil's mother. And here she comes dressed like a loose woman, and that's why women say "God damn me"—which really means "God make me a loose woman." It's written in the scriptures that devils appear to men as angels of light. Light is an effect of fire, and fire burns things. So by the same logic, loose women bring ruin. Don't go near her.
No, she's even worse—she's the devil's mother. And she shows up dressed like a woman with no morals, which is why loose women say "God damn me"—basically calling it on themselves. The Bible says the devil disguises himself as a good-looking angel. Light comes from fire, and fire destroys things. Same way, loose women wreck lives. Stay away from her.
nah she's the devil's mom she dresses like a tramp light is fire and fire burns dont go near her
Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
Will you go with me? We’ll mend our dinner here.
You and your man are very funny, sir. Will you go with me? We'll have a better dinner here.
You two are hilarious, sir. Come on with me? Let's get a better meal together.
you guys r funny come with me let's get food
Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.
Master, if you do, expect soft food, or get yourself a long spoon.
Master, if you go with her, be ready for mushed-up food or bring a really long spoon.
expect baby food or bring a long spoon
Why, Dromio?
Why, Dromio?
Why, Dromio?
Why, Dromio?
Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.
By my faith, anyone who eats with the devil needs a long spoon.
You know, if you're eating with the devil, you better have a long reach.
u need a long spoon to 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.
Go away then, demon! Why do you talk to me about eating? You are, like all of you, a witch. I command you to leave me and be gone.
Get out of here, evil woman! Why are you going on about dinner? You're a sorceress like all your kind. I'm telling you to get lost and stay gone.
get out demon stop talking about dinner u witch leave me alone
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 that you had at dinner, or give me the chain you promised for my diamond, and I'll be gone, sir, and won't bother you anymore.
Give me back my ring from dinner, or give me the chain you promised in exchange for my diamond, and I'll leave you alone.
give me back my ring or that chain u promised then i'll go
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 for only a small nail, a bit of straw, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherry pit. But she's greedier than that—she wants a chain. Master, be smart about this. If you give it to her, the devil will make her shake the chain and frighten us with it.
Some devils are satisfied with tiny things—a bit of nail, some straw, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut. But this one's greedy—she wants a whole chain. Come on, master, think straight. If you give it to her, she'll shake it around and scare us with it.
demons take tiny stuff nails, hair, drops of blood but she wants a whole chain don't give it to her
I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;
I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
Please, sir, my ring or the chain. I hope you don't mean to cheat me.
Sir, please, my ring or that chain. You're not trying to screw me over, are you?
pls give me the ring or chain don't cheat me
Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
Get out of here, witch! Come on, Dromio, let's go.
Get out of here, you witch! Dromio, let's get out of here.
witch get out let's go dromio
Fly pride, says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
Fly pride, the peacock says—you know how that saying goes, lady.
Fly pride, like the peacock says—you know that proverb, don't you?
fly pride like the peacock says
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 I'm certain that Antipholus is mad. He would never behave this way otherwise. He has a ring of mine worth forty gold coins, and he promised me a chain in exchange for it. Now he denies giving me both. The reason I think he's mad—besides this current show of rage—is a strange story he told at dinner today about his own doors being shut against him when he tried to enter. Probably his wife, knowing about his fits of madness, deliberately shut the doors to keep him out. My plan now is to hurry to his house and tell his wife that, being insane, he rushed into my place and forcibly took my ring. This plan seems best to me, because forty gold coins is too much money to lose.
Now I'm sure this guy's completely insane. There's no other way he'd act like this. He has a ring of mine worth forty gold pieces that he promised to replace with a chain, and now he's denying he has either one. Besides this whole tantrum, the reason I know he's gone crazy is this weird story he told me at dinner about his own house doors being locked against him. Probably his wife knows he gets these crazy spells and locked him out on purpose. So here's what I'm going to do: I'll go straight to his house and tell his wife that he showed up at my place insane, forced his way in, and stole my ring. That's my best move because I can't afford to lose forty gold pieces.
he's definitely crazy he's got my ring & promised a chain now denies both his wife probably locked him out im going to tell her he stole from me i cant lose 40 gold coins
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.'