Part 38

Aegeon, seeing his son, concluded this was the son who had left him to go in search of his mother and his brother, and he felt secure that this dear son would readily pay the money demanded for his ransom. He therefore spoke to Antipholus in words of fatherly affection, with joyful hope that he should now be released. But, to the utter astonishment of Aegeon, his son denied all knowledge of him, as well he might, for this Antipholus had never seen his father since they were separated in the storm in his infancy. But while the poor old Aegeon was in vain endeavoring to make his son acknowledge him, thinking surely that either his griefs and the anxieties he had suffered had so strangely altered him that his son did not know him or else that he was ashamed to acknowledge his father in his misery--in the midst of this perplexity the lady abbess and the other Antipholus and Dromio came out, and the wondering Adriana saw two husbands and two Dromios standing before her.

And now these riddling errors, which had so perplexed them all, were clearly made out. When the duke saw the two Antipholuses and the two Dromios both so exactly alike, he at once conjectured aright of these seeming mysteries, for he remembered the story Aegeon had told him in the morning; and he said these men must be the two sons of Aegeon and their twin slaves.

But now an unlooked-for joy indeed completed the history of Aegeon; and the tale he had in the morning told in sorrow, and under sentence of death, before the setting sun went down was brought to a happy conclusion, for the venerable lady abbess made herself known to be the long-lost wife of Aegeon and the fond mother of the two Antipholuses.

When the fishermen took the eldest Antipholus and Dromio away from her, she entered a nunnery, and by her wise and virtuous conduct she was at length made lady abbess of this convent and in discharging the rites of hospitality to an unhappy stranger she had unknowingly protected her own son.

Joyful congratulations and affectionate greetings between these long-separated parents and their children made them for a while forget that Aegeon was yet under sentence of death. When they were become a little calm, Antipholus of Ephesus offered the duke the ransom money for his father’s life; but the duke freely pardoned Aegeon, and would not take the money. And the duke went with the abbess and her newly found husband and children into the convent, to hear this happy family discourse at leisure of the blessed ending of their adverse fortunes. And the two Dromios’ humble joy must not be forgotten; they had their congratulations and greetings, too, and each Dromio pleasantly complimented his brother on his good looks, being well pleased to see his own person (as in a glass) show so handsome in his brother.

Adriana had so well profited by the good counsel of her mother-in-law that she never after cherished unjust suspicions nor was jealous of her husband.

Antipholus of Syracuse married the fair Luciana, the sister of his brother’s wife; and the good old Aegeon, with his wife and sons, lived at Ephesus many years. Nor did the unraveling of these perplexities so entirely remove every ground of mistake for the future but that sometimes, to remind them of adventures past, comical blunders would happen, and the one Antipholus, and the one Dromio, be mistaken for the other, making altogether a pleasant and diverting Comedy of Errors.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE

In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild and gentle temper that he suffered his subjects to neglect the laws with impunity; and there was in particular one law the existence of which was almost forgotten, the duke never having put it in force during his whole reign. This was a law dooming any man to the punishment of death who should live with a woman that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of the duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke by the parents of the young ladies in Vienna that their daughters had been seduced from their protection and were living as the companions of single men.

The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his subjects; but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the indulgence he had hitherto shown, to the strict severity requisite to check this abuse, would make his people (who had hitherto loved him) consider him as a tyrant; therefore he determined to absent himself awhile from his dukedom and depute another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against these dishonorable lovers might be put in effect, without giving offense by an unusual severity in his own person.

Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for his strict and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person to undertake this important charge; and when the duke imparted his design to Lord Escalus, his chief counselor, Escalus said:

“If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and honor, it is Lord Angelo.”

And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretense of making a journey into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in his absence; but the duke’s absence was only a feigned one, for he privately returned to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the intent to watch unseen the conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.

It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his new dignity that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced a young lady from her parents; and for this offense, by command of the new lord deputy, Claudio was taken up and committed to prison, and by virtue of the old law which had been so long neglected Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded. Great interest was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good old Lord Escalus himself interceded for him.

“Alas!” said he, “this gentleman whom I would save had an honorable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young man’s transgression.”

But Angelo replied: “We must not make a scarecrow of the law, setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it harmless, makes it their perch and not their terror. Sir, he must die.”

Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and Claudio said to him: “I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service. Go to my sister Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the convent of Saint Clare; acquaint her with the danger of my state; implore her that she make friends with the strict deputy; bid her go herself to Angelo. I have great hopes in that; for she can discourse with prosperous art, and well she can persuade; besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow such as moves men.”

Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered upon her novitiate in the convent, and it was her intent, after passing through her probation as a novice, to take the veil, and she was inquiring of a nun concerning the rules of the convent when they heard the voice of Lucio, who, as he entered that religious house, said, “Peace be in this place!”

“Who is it that speaks?” said Isabel.

“It is a man’s voice,” replied the nun. “Gentle Isabel, go to him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you have taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence of the prioress; then if you speak you must not show your face, or if you show your face you must not speak.”

“And have you nuns no further privileges?” said Isabel.

“Are not these large enough?” replied the nun.

“Yes, truly,” said Isabel. “I speak not as desiring more, but rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.”

Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said: “He calls again. I pray you answer him.”

Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation, said: “Peace and Prosperity! Who is it that calls?”

Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said: “Hail, virgin, if such you be, as the roses on your cheeks proclaim you are no less! Can you bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this place, and the fair sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?”

“Why her unhappy brother?” said Isabel, “let me ask! for I am that Isabel and his sister.”

“Fair and gentle lady,” he replied, “your brother kindly greets you by me; he is in prison.”