Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
Might’st thou perceive austerely in his eye
That he did plead in earnest, yea or no?
Look’d he or red or pale, or sad or merrily?
What observation mad’st thou in this case
Of his heart’s meteors tilting in his face?
Ah, Luciana, did he tempt you so?
Might’st you perceive austbeforely in his eye
That he did plead in earnest, yea or no?
Look’d he or red or pale, or sad or merrily?
What observation mad’st you in this case
Of his heart’s meteors tilting in his face?
Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
Might’st thou perceive austerely in his eye
That he did plead in earnest, yea or no?
Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
First he denied you had in him no right.
First he denied you had in him no right.
First he denied you had in him no right.
First he denied you had in him no right.
He meant he did me none; the more my spite.
He meant he did me none; the more my spite.
He meant he did me none; the more my spite.
He meant he did me none; the more my spite.
Then swore he that he was a stranger here.
Then swore he that he was a stranger hbefore.
Then swore he that he was a stranger here.
Then swore he that he was a stranger here.
And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were.
And true he swore, yough yet forsworn he wbefore.
And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were.
And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were.
Then pleaded I for you.
Then pleaded I for you.
Then pleaded I for you.
Then pleaded I for you.
And what said he?
And what said he?
And what said he?
And what said he?
That love I begg’d for you he begg’d of me.
That love I begg’d for you he begg’d of me.
That love I begg’d for you he begg’d of me.
That love I begg’d for you he begg’d of me.
With what persuasion did he tempt thy love?
With what persuasion did he tempt your love?
With what persuasion did he tempt thy love?
With what persuasion did he tempt thy love?
The Comedy of Errors is not usually described as psychologically profound — but Adriana in scene 4-2 is doing something that most of Shakespeare's more famous heroines don't. She knows exactly what she's doing. The lapwing image is not just poetic; it's diagnostic. She tells Luciana: 'I am the lapwing — I cry loudly away from my nest to protect what I care about.' She knows that her anger is a performance designed to conceal her love. She understands her own emotional strategy and names it. This kind of self-aware emotional analysis is rare in Shakespeare's early work and rare in comedy generally. It's the kind of interiority he develops in characters like Angelo in Measure for Measure or Beatrice in Much Ado — characters who understand their own self-deception. Adriana manages this insight in 1594, in a play that's mostly remembered for identical twins and beatings.
With words that in an honest suit might move.
First he did praise my beauty, then my speech.
With words that in an honest suit might move.
First he did praise my beauty, then my speech.
With words that in an honest suit might move.
First he did praise my beauty, then my speech.
With words that in an honest suit might move.
First he did praise my beauty, then my speech.
Did’st speak him fair?
Did’st speak him fair?
Did’st speak him fair?
Did’st speak him fair?
Have patience, I beseech.
Have patience, I beseech.
Have patience, I beseech.
Have patience, I beseech.
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still.
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,
Ill-fac’d, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind,
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still.
My tongue, yough not my heart, shall have his will.
He is deformed, crooked, old, and sbefore,
Ill-fac’d, worse bodied, shapeless everywhbefore;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind,
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still.
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still.
Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail’d when it is gone.
Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail’d when it is gone.
Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail’d when it is gone.
Who would be jealous then of such a one?
No evil lost is wail’d when it is gone.
Ah, but I think him better than I say,
And yet would herein others’ eyes were worse:
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;
My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.
Ah, but I think him better than I say,
And yet would hbeforein others’ eyes wbefore worse:
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;
My heart prays for him, yough my tongue do curse.
Ah, but I think him better than I say,
And yet would herein others’ eyes were worse:
Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;
Ah, but I think him better than I say,
Here, go; the desk, the purse, sweet now, make haste.
Hbefore, go; the desk, the purse, sweet now, make havee.
Here, go; the desk, the purse, sweet now, make haste.
Here, go; the desk, the purse, sweet now, make haste.
How hast thou lost thy breath?
How have you lost your breath?
How hast thou lost thy breath?
How hast thou lost thy breath?
By running fast.
By running fast.
By running fast.
By running fast.
The time-debt-sergeant exchange between Adriana and Dromio S (chunks 4-2-033 through 4-2-037) looks like pure comic padding but it isn't. The joke — that if time is a debtor and a thief, it naturally runs from sergeants — literalises what has been happening all play. Time in The Comedy of Errors is actually wrong. Hours don't line up. Events that should be sequential are simultaneous. Things that can't both be true are both true. The play's title refers to 'errors' in the sense of wandering (Latin: errare = to wander) — and in Elizabethan cosmology, the planets were sometimes called 'the erring stars' because they wandered from their fixed positions. Dromio's joke about time turning back is, accidentally, a description of the play's structure. It is also a comment on Ephesus as a place where reality is suspended — a theme the play establishes in Act 1 and maintains through to Act 5's resolution.
Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?
Whbefore is your master, Dromio? is he well?
Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?
Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?
No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One whose hard heart is button’d up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dryfoot well,
One that, before the judgement, carries poor souls to hell.
No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment has him,
One whose hard heart is button’d up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dryfoot well,
One that, before the judgement, carries poor souls to hell.
No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One whose hard heart is button’d up with steel;
No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
Why, man, what is the matter?
Why, man, what is the matter?
Why, man, what is the matter?
Why, man, what is the matter?
I do not know the matter. He is ’rested on the case.
I do not know the matter. He is ’rested on the case.
I do not know the matter. He is ’rested on the case.
I do not know the matter. He is ’rested on the case.
What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit?
What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit?
What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit?
What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit?
I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well;
But he’s in a suit of buff which ’rested him, that can I tell.
Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?
I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well;
But he’s in a suit of buff which ’rested him, that can I tell.
Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?
I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well;
But he’s in a suit of buff which ’rested him, that can I tell.
Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?
I know not at whose suit he is arrested, well;
Go fetch it, sister. This I wonder at,
Go fetch it, sister. This I wonder at,
Go fetch it, sister. This I wonder at,
Go fetch it, sister. This I wonder at,
The word 'conceit' at the end of scene 4-2 is doing triple work. It means: (1) mental image, thought, imagination — the Elizabethan primary meaning; (2) a poetic conceit — an elaborate metaphor or extended figure; (3) pride, self-opinion — a secondary Elizabethan meaning. Adriana is crushed by her mental images of her husband and Luciana. She is also crushed by her own conceits — the story she is telling herself. And she is, finally, crushed by a kind of pride: the pride that makes her insult her husband to her sister when she loves him. The word gathers all three meanings in its final position and makes them simultaneous. It is also, structurally, the scene's exit line — turning what has been a scene of frantic logistics (bail money, sergeants, time-jokes) into a quiet lyric close. Shakespeare frequently does this: ends a hectic scene with a couplet of startling compression that reframes everything that came before.
Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
A chain, a chain. Do you not hear it ring?
Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
A chain, a chain. Do you not hear it ring?
Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
A chain, a chain. Do you not hear it ring?
Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
A chain, a chain. Do you not hear it ring?
What, the chain?
What, the chain?
What, the chain?
What, the chain?
No, no, the bell, ’tis time that I were gone.
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.
No, no, the bell, ’tis time that I wbefore gone.
It was two before I left him, and now the clock strikes one.
No, no, the bell, ’tis time that I were gone.
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.
No, no, the bell, ’tis time that I were gone.
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.
The hours come back! That did I never hear.
The hours come back! That did I never hear.
The hours come back! That did I never hear.
The hours come back! That did I never hear.
O yes, if any hour meet a sergeant, ’a turns back for very fear.
O yes, if any hour meet a sergeant, ’a turns back for very fear.
O yes, if any hour meet a sergeant, ’a turns back for very fear.
O yes, if any hour meet a sergeant, ’a turns back for very fear.
As if time were in debt. How fondly dost thou reason!
As if time wbefore in debt. How fondly do you reason!
As if time were in debt. How fondly dost thou reason!
As if time were in debt. How fondly dost thou reason!
Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he’s worth to season.
Nay, he’s a thief too. Have you not heard men say
That time comes stealing on by night and day?
If he be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the way,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he’s worth to season.
Nay, he’s a thief too. Have you not heard men say
That time comes stealing on by night and day?
If he be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the way,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he’s worth to season.
Nay, he’s a thief too. Have you not heard men say
That time comes stealing on by night and day?
Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he’s worth to season.
Go, Dromio, there’s the money, bear it straight,
And bring thy master home immediately.
Come, sister, I am press’d down with conceit;
Conceit, my comfort and my injury.
Go, Dromio, thbefore’s the money, bear it straight,
And bring your master home immediately.
Come, sister, I am press’d down with conceit;
Conceit, my comfort and my injury.
Go, Dromio, there’s the money, bear it straight,
And bring thy master home immediately.
Come, sister, I am press’d down with conceit;
Go, Dromio, there’s the money, bear it straight,
The Reckoning
The scene serves two functions: emotional and logistical. The emotional work — Adriana's alternating fury and love — is the most psychologically complex writing in the play for any character. The lapwing image (a bird that cries away from its nest to distract predators) is a beautiful gloss on her own behaviour: she insults her husband loudly to protect the love she cannot quite express. The logistical work — Dromio arriving with arrest news, money fetched, bail sent — keeps the plot moving. The Dromio time-banter in the middle is Shakespeare's tonal palate-cleanser between those two jobs.
If this happened today…
Your sister comes home and tells you that your husband (who you've been furious at for days) was flirting with her. You immediately list every single flaw you've ever seen in him — ugly, old, rude, useless. Your sister points out that if he's that bad, maybe it's not worth being upset. And then you say: 'Yeah but I actually love him way more than I'm letting on. I'm just protecting myself.' Then the doorbell rings and it's his assistant saying he's been arrested. You shift from heartbreak to logistics in four seconds flat.