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Aegeon — “A heavier task could not have been impos'd” — The Comedy of Errors, Act 1, Scene 1, line 33
The Comedy of Errors
·I i 33 ·
Verse
Aegeon A heavier task could not have been impos'd Than 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 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 the 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 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 distinguish'd but by names. That very hour, and in the self-same inn, A meaner 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, That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, Forc'd 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 fasten'd 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 dispos'd, my wife and I, Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast; And floating straight, obedient to the stream, Were carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, Dispers'd those vapours that offended us, And, by the benefit of his wished light The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered Two ships from far making amain to us; Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: But ere they came,'O! let me say no more; Gather the sequel by that went before. Duke. Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so; For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Aege. O! had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily term'd them merciless to us! For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, We were encounter'd by a mighty rock; Which being violently borne upon, Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; 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 part, poor soul! seeming as burdened With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe, Was carried with more speed before the wind, And in our sight they three were taken up By fishermen-of Corinth, as we thought. At length, another ship had soiz'd on us; And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, Gave healthful welcome to their ship-wrack'd guests; And would have reft the fishers of their prey, Had not their bark been very slow of sail; And therefore homeward did they bend their course. Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss, That by misfortune was my life prolong'd, To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. 
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Original: A heavier task could not have been impos’d
Modern: No harder task could have been given to me
Original: Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable;
Modern: Than to put into words sorrows too painful to describe;
Original: Yet, that the world may witness that my end
Modern: But so that everyone can see that my death sentence
Original: Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
Modern: Was caused by fate, not by any terrible crime I committed,
Original: I’ll utter what my sorrow gives me leave.
Modern: I’ll tell whatever my grief allows me to express.
Original: In Syracusa was I born, and wed
Modern: I was born in Syracuse and married
Original: Unto a woman, happy but for me,
Modern: A woman who would have been happy except for knowing me,
Original: And by me too, had not our hap been bad.
Modern: And I would have been happy too, if our luck hadn’t been so terrible.
Original: With her I liv’d in joy: our wealth increas’d
Modern: I lived joyfully with her: our money grew
Original: By prosperous voyages I often made
Modern: Through successful trading trips I frequently took
Original: To Epidamnum; till my factor’s death,
Modern: To Epidamnum; until my business agent died,
Original: And the great care of goods at random left,
Modern: And the urgent concern for merchandise left unattended,
Original: Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:
Modern: Pulled me away from the loving arms of my wife:
Original: From whom my absence was not six months old,
Modern: I had been away from her for less than six months,
Original: Before herself,’almost at fainting under
Modern: Before she herself, nearly fainting under
Original: The pleasing punishment that women bear,’
Modern: The welcome burden that women carry (pregnancy),
Original: Had made provision for her following me,
Modern: Had made arrangements to follow me,
Original: And soon and safe arrived where I was.
Modern: And quickly and safely arrived where I was.
Original: There had she not been long but she became
Modern: She hadn’t been there long before she became
Original: A joyful mother of two goodly sons;
Modern: A happy mother of two fine sons;
Original: And, which was strange, the one so like the other,
Modern: And, which was unusual, one looked so much like the other,
Original: As could not be distinguish’d but by names.
Modern: That they could only be told apart by their names.
Original: That very hour, and in the self-same inn,
Modern: At that exact same time, and in the very same inn,
Original: A meaner woman was delivered
Modern: A poorer woman gave birth
Original: Of such a burden, male twins, both alike.
Modern: To the same kind of children, twin boys who also looked identical.
Original: I bought, and brought up to attend my sons.
Modern: I purchased them, and raised them to be servants to my sons.
Original: My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,
Modern: My wife, extremely proud of our two boys,
Original: Made daily motions for our home return:
Modern: Begged me every day to return home:
Original: Unwilling I agreed; alas! too soon
Modern: Reluctantly I agreed; unfortunately, too quickly
Original: We came aboard.
Modern: We got on the ship.
Original: A league from Epidamnum had we sail’d,
Modern: We had sailed about three miles from Epidamnum,
Original: Before the always-wind-obeying deep
Modern: Before the ocean, which always responds to the wind,
Original: Gave any tragic instance of our harm:
Modern: Gave any terrible sign of the danger we were in:
Original: But longer did we not retain much hope;
Modern: But we didn’t keep our hope for long;
Original: For what obscured light the heavens did grant
Modern: Because whatever dim light the sky provided
Original: Did but convey unto our fearful minds
Modern: Only delivered to our terrified minds
Original: A doubtful warrant of immediate death;
Modern: An uncertain promise of instant death;
Original: Which, though myself would gladly have embrac’d,
Modern: Which, although I would have willingly accepted for myself,
Original: Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,
Modern: But the constant crying of my wife,
Original: Weeping before for what she saw must come,
Modern: Crying in advance for what she knew would happen,
Original: And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
Modern: And the pitiful wailing of the innocent babies,
Original: That mourn’d for fashion, ignorant what to fear,
Modern: Who cried simply by imitation, not knowing what to be afraid of,
Original: Forc’d me to seek delays for them and me.
Modern: Forced me to try to postpone death for all of us.
Original: And this it was, for other means was none:
Modern: And this is what I did, since there was no other option:
Original: The sailors sought for safety by our boat,
Modern: The sailors tried to save themselves by taking our lifeboat,
Original: And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us:
Modern: And left the ship, which was ready to sink, to us:
Original: My wife, more careful for the latter-born,
Modern: My wife, more concerned about the younger twin,
Original: Had fasten’d him unto a small spare mast,
Modern: Had tied him to a small extra mast,
Original: Such as seafaring men provide for storms;
Modern: The kind that sailors keep on hand for emergencies;
Original: To him one of the other twins was bound,
Modern: To him one of the servant twins was tied,
Original: Whilst I had been like heedful of the other.
Modern: While I had been equally careful with the other son.
Original: The children thus dispos’d, my wife and I,
Modern: With the children arranged this way, my wife and I,
Original: Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix’d,
Modern: Keeping our eyes on the ones we cared about most,
Original: Fasten’d ourselves at either end the mast;
Modern: Tied ourselves at opposite ends of the mast;
Original: And floating straight, obedient to the stream,
Modern: And drifting along, carried by the current,
Original: Were carried towards Corinth, as we thought.
Modern: Were being taken toward Corinth, or so we believed.
Original: At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,
Modern: Eventually the sun, shining down on the earth,
Original: Dispers’d those vapours that offended us,
Modern: Scattered the fog and mist that had troubled us,
Original: And, by the benefit of his wished light
Modern: And, thanks to its welcome light
Original: The seas wax’d calm, and we discovered
Modern: The seas became calm, and we spotted
Original: Two ships from far making amain to us;
Modern: Two ships in the distance heading quickly toward us;
Original: Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this:
Modern: One from Corinth, the other from Epidaurus:
Original: But ere they came,’O! let me say no more;
Modern: But before they reached us—Oh! let me stop here;
Original: Gather the sequel by that went before.
Modern: You can figure out what happened next from what I’ve already told you.
Original: O! had the gods done so, I had not now
Modern: Oh! if only the gods had done that, I wouldn’t now
Original: Worthily term’d them merciless to us!
Modern: Rightly call them cruel to us!
Original: For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues,
Modern: Because, before the ships could come within ten leagues of each other,
Original: We were encounter’d by a mighty rock;
Modern: We crashed into a huge rock;
Original: Which being violently borne upon,
Modern: Which, being struck with great force,
Original: Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst;
Modern: Split our makeshift raft right down the middle;
Original: So that, in this unjust divorce of us
Modern: So that, in this cruel separation of our family
Original: Fortune had left to both of us alike
Modern: Fate had given to both groups equally
Original: What to delight in, what to sorrow for.
Modern: Something to be happy about and something to grieve over.
Original
In Act I, Scene 1 of “The Comedy of Errors,” Egeon, a merchant from Syracuse, is brought before Solinus, the Duke of Ephesus, after being arrested for illegally entering the city. The Duke explains that due to ongoing hostilities between Syracuse and Ephesus, any Syracusian found in Ephesian territory faces execution unless they can pay a fine of a thousand marks. Despite the harsh law, the Duke is moved by Egeon’s dignified bearing and agrees to hear his story before passing sentence.
Egeon recounts the tragic tale that brought him to Ephesus: eighteen years earlier, he was traveling with his wife, who had given birth to twin sons in an inn. They also purchased twin infant slaves to serve as companions to their children. During a storm at sea, their ship was wrecked, and the family was separated when their mast split in two. Egeon saved himself and one twin son (along with one slave) on half the mast, while his wife and the other children were carried away on the other half. After his son reached maturity at age eighteen, the young man set out to find his lost twin brother, accompanied by his slave. When the son failed to return after five years, Egeon began his own search, which has now led him to Ephesus. The Duke, moved by this story, grants Egeon one day to find someone who can pay his ransom or to raise the money himself before his execution at sunset.
The Comedy of Errors centers on two sets of identical twins separated in infancy during a shipwreck. Antipholus of Syracuse and his servant Dromio of Syracuse arrive in Ephesus, unknowing that Antipholus’s twin brother (Antipholus of Ephesus) and his servant (Dromio of Ephesus) live there. The Syracuse visitors are unaware of local laws that condemn Syracusans to death unless they pay a heavy fine, though the Duke grants Antipholus of Syracuse until evening to find the money.
The confusion begins immediately when the wrong Dromio approaches Antipholus of Syracuse, speaking of dinner and a wife waiting at home. Meanwhile, Antipholus of Ephesus’s wife Adriana and her sister Luciana encounter what they believe is Adriana’s husband (actually his twin), leading Adriana to drag the bewildered Syracuse twin home for dinner. The errors multiply as both masters beat the wrong servants, money and gold chains are given to and demanded from the wrong people, and Antipholus of Syracuse finds himself locked out of his own home while his twin dines inside with his wife.
The chaos escalates when a goldsmith demands payment from Antipholus of Syracuse for a chain delivered to his twin, leading to an arrest. Adriana, believing her husband has gone mad, calls for Dr. Pinch to exorcise him, while both Dromios suffer beatings and confusion from their mistaken identities. The resolution comes when old Egeon, condemned to die at sunset for being a Syracusan in Ephesus, recognizes both Antipholus twins as his sons. The Abbess of the local priory reveals herself to be Emilia, Egeon’s long-lost wife and the twins’ mother, reuniting the family and resolving all the mistaken identities. The Duke pardons Egeon, the twins are reconciled with their respective lives, and order is restored to Ephesus.
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