No Fear Shakespeare
The Comedy of Errors
Get this No Fear to go!
Act 4, Scene 2, Page 2
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LUCIANA
Have patience, I beseech.
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LUCIANA
Have some patience, please.
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ADRIANA
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
He is deformèd, crooked, old, and sere,
Ill-faced, worse-bodied, shapeless everywhere,
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind,
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
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ADRIANA
I cannot and I will not keep quiet. My voice will have its way, even if my heart can’t. He is misshapen, crooked, old, and withered. His face is ugly, and his body is even worse—all shapeless, everywhere. He is vicious, mean, foolish, blunt, unkind. His body is deformed, and his mind is worse.
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LUCIANA
Who would be jealous, then, of such a one?
No evil lost is wailed when it is gone.
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LUCIANA
Then why be jealous of a person like that? When an evil thing has been lost, no one cries.
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ADRIANA
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.
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ADRIANA
Oh, but I think of him more highly than I say I do—and I wish he looked worse in other women’s eyes. I’m like a lapwing, creating a diversion in order to distract predators from my nest. My heart adores him, even though my tongue curses him.
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Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, running |
DROMIO OF SYRACUSE enters, running. |
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DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Here, go—the desk, the purse! Sweet, now make haste.
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DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
Here! Go! The desk! Money! Come on, now! Hurry!
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LUCIANA
How hast thou lost thy breath?
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LUCIANA
How did you lose your breath?
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DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
By running fast.
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DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
By running fast.
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ADRIANA
Where is thy master, Dromio? Is he well?
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ADRIANA
Where’s your master, Dromio? Is he all right?
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DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
No, he’s in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel;
A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder clapper, one that countermands
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DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
No, he’s in a place worse than hell. A devil in a tough uniform has him—a man whose heart is as hard as steel. A fiend and a goblin, pitiless and rough. A wolf—no, even worse—a man all in tough leather. A backbiting friend, one who grabs people, who patrols the streets and passageways. A hunting dog that runs in
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