EGEON

P Roceed Solinus to procure my fallen, And by the doom of death end woes and all. Yet this my comfort, when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening Son. A heavier task could not have been imposed, Then I to speak my griefs unspeakable: Yet that the world may witness that my end Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave. In Syracyse was I born, and wed Unto a woman, happy but for me, And by me; had not our hap been bade: With her I lived in joy, our wealth increased By prosperous voyages I often made To Epidamium, till my factors 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 her self (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 had she 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 distinguished but by names. That very hour, and in the selfsame Inn, A 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 Epidamium had we sailed Before the always winde-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 my self would gladly have embraced, Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, Weeping before for what she saw must come, And piteous plainings of the pretty babes That mourned for fashion, ignorant what to fear, Forced me to seek delays for them and me, And this it was: (for other means was none) The Sailors sought for safety by our boat, And left the ship then sinking ripe to us. My wife, more careful for the latter born, Had fastened him unto a small spare Mast, Such as seafaring men provide for storms: To him one of the other twins was bound, Whilst I had been Like heedful of the other. The children thus disposed, my wife and I, Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixed, Fastened our selves at either end the mast, And floating straight, obedient to the stream, Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the son gazing upon the earth, Dispersed those vapours that offended us, And by the benefit of his wished light The seas waxed calm, and we discovered Two ships from far, making amain to us: Of Corinth that, of Epidarus this, But ere they came, o let me say no more, Gather the sequel by that went before. Therefore give out you are of Epidamium, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate: This very day a Syracusian Merchant Is apprehended for a rival here, And not being able to buy out his life, According to the statute of the town, Die ere the weary sun set in the West: There is your money that I had to keep. O had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily termed them merciless to us: For ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, We were encountered by a mighty rock, Which being violently born up, Our helpful ship was split in the amid; So that in this unjust divorce of us, Fortune had left to both of us alike, What to delight in, what to sorrow for, Her partly, poor soul, seeming as burdened With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe, Was carried with more speed before the wind, And in our sighed they three were taken up By Fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. At length another ship had seized on us, And knowing whom it was their hap to save, Gave healthful welcome to their shipwrecked guests, And would have reft the Fishers of their prey, Had not their back been very slow of sail; And therefore homeward did they bend their course. Thus have you herd me severed from my bliss, That by misfortunes was my life prolonged, To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, At eighteen years became inquisitive After his brother; and importuned me That his attendant, so his case was Like, Reft of his brother, but retained his name, Might bear him company in the quest of him: Whom whilst I laboured of a love to see, I hazarded the lose of whom I loved. Five Summers have I spent in farthest Greece, Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, And coasting homeward, came to Ephesus: Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought Or that, or any place that harbours men: But here must end the story of my life, And happy were I in my timely death, Could all my travels warrant me they live. Hopeless and helpless does Egean weened, But to procrastinate his liveless end. Unless the fear of death does make me door, I see my son Antipholus and Dromio. Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word: Haply I see a friend will save my life, And pay the sum that may deliver me. O! grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with times deformed hand, Have written strange defeatures in my face: But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice? I am sure thou dost? But seven years since, in Siracusa boy Thou knowest we parted, but perhaps my son, Thou shamest to acknowledge me in misery. If I dream not, thou art Aemilia, If thou art she, tell me, where is that son That floated with thee on the fatal raft. Is not your name sir called Antipholus ? And is not that your bondman Dromio ? I am sure you both of you remember me. Not know my voice, o times e tremity Hast thou so cracked and split my poor tongue In seven short years, that here my only son Knows not my feeble key of untuned cares? Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming Winter's drizled snow, And all the Conduits of my blood froze up: Yet hath my night of life some memory: My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left; My dull deaf ears a little use to hear: All these old witnesses, I cannot err. Tell me, thou art my son Antipholus. Why look you strange on me? you know me well. Dromio, nor thou?