I am possibly singular in thinking that Shakespeare was not under the slightest obligation, in forming this comedy, to Warner's translation of the Menæchmi. The additions of Erotes and Sereptus, which do not occur in that translation, and he could never invent, are, alone, a sufficient inducement to believe that he was no way indebted to it. But a further and more convincing proof is, that he has not a name, line, or word, from the old play, nor any one incident but what must, of course, be common to every translation. Sir William Blackstone, I observe, suspects "this and all other plays where much rhyme is used, and especially long hobbling verses, to have been among Shakespeare's more early productions." But I much doubt whether any of these "long hobbling verses" have the honour of proceeding from his pen; and, in fact, the superior elegance and harmony of his language is no less distinguishable in his earliest than his latest production. The truth is, if any inference can be drawn from the most striking dissimilarity of style, a tissue as different as silk and worsted, that this comedy, though boasting the embellishments of our author's genius, in additional words, lines, speeches, and scenes, was not originally his, but proceeded from some inferior playwright, who was capable of reading the Menæchmi without the help of a translation, or, at least, did not make use of Warner's. And this I take to have been the case, not only with the three Parts of King Henry VI. (though not, perhaps, exactly in the way, or to the extent, maintained by a late editor,) but with The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Love's Labour's Lost, and King Richard II. in all which pieces Shakespeare's new work is as apparent as the brightest touches of Titian would be on the poorest performance of the veriest canvass spoiler that ever handled a brush. The originals of these plays were never printed, and may be thought to have been put into his hands by the manager, for the purpose of alteration and improvement, which we find to have been an ordinary practice of the theatre in his time. We are therefore no longer to look upon the above "pleasant and fine conceited comedie," as entitled to a situation among the "six plays on which Shake

speare founded his Measure for Measure," &c. of which I should hope to see a new and improved edition.

RITSON.

This comedy, I believe, was written in 1593. See An Attempt to ascertain the Order of Shakespeare's Plays, Vol. MALONE.

II.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

SOLINUS, duke of Ephesus.

EGEON, a merchant of Syracuse.

ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus,

ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse,

DROMIO of Ephesus,
DROMIO of Syracuse,
BALTHAZAR, a merchant.

ANGELO, a goldsmith.

twin-brothers, and sons to

Egeon and Emilia, but unknown to each other. twin-brothers, and attendants on the two Antipholus's.

A merchant, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse.
PINCH, a schoolmaster, and a conjurer.

EMILIA, wife to Egeon, an abbess at Ephesus.
ADRIANA, wife to Antipholus of Ephesus.
LUCIANA, her sister.

LUCE, her servant.

A Courtezan.

Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants.

SCENE-Ephesus.

COMEDY OF ERRORS.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A Hall in the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke, EGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants.

geon.

PROCEED, Solinus, to procure my fall,
And, by the doom of death, end woes and all.
Duke. Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more;
I am not partial, to infringe our laws :

The enmity and discord, which of late

Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke
To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,-
Who, wanting gilders to redeem their lives,
Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods,—
Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks.
For, since the mortal and intestine jars
'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us,
It hath in solemn synods been decreed,
Both by the Syracusans and ourselves,
To admit no traffic to our adverse towns :
Nay, moré,

If any, born at Ephesus, be seen
At any Syracusan marts and fairs,
Again, If any Syracusan born,

Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies,

His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose;
Unless a thousand marks be levied,

To quit the penalty, and to ransome him.
Thy substance, valued at the highest rate,
Cannot amount unto a hundred marks;

Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die.

Egeon. Yet this my comfort; when your words are

done,

My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

Duke. Well, Syracusan, say, in brief, the cause

Why thou departedst from thy native home;
And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus.

my

end

Egeon. A heavier task could not have been impos'd,
Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable :
Yet, that the world witness that
may
Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave.
In Syracusa was I born; and wed
Unto a woman, happy but for me,

And by me too, had not our hap been bad.
With her I liv'd in joy; our wealth increas'd
By prosperous voyages I often made
To Epidamnum, till my factor's death;
And he (great care of goods at random left)
Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:
From whom my absence was not six months old,
Before herself (almost at fainting, under
The pleasing punishment that women bear)
Had made provision for her following me,
And soon, and safe, arrived where I was.
There she had not been long, but she became

A joyful mother of two goodly sons;

And, which was strange, the one so like the other,
As could not be distinguish'd but by names.
That very hour, and in the self-same inn,

A poor mean woman was delivered

Of such a burden, male-twins, both alike:
Those, for their parents were exceeding poor,
I bought, and brought up to attend my sons.
My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,
Made daily motions for our home return:
Unwilling I agreed; alas, too soon.
We came aboard:

A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd,
Before the always-wind-obeying deep
Gave any tragic instance of our harm:
But longer did we not retain much hope;

For what obscured light the heavens did grant
Did but convey unto our fearful minds

A doubtful warrant of immediate death;

Which, though myself would gladly have embrac'd,

Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,

Weeping before, for what she saw must come,

And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,