Act 1 - Scene 1
A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace.
Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants AEGEON
Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall And by the doom of death end woes and all. DUKE SOLINUS
Merchant of Syracuse, 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 guilders to redeem their lives Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, Excludes all pity
from our threatening looks. For, since the mortal and intestine jars 'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and
us, It hath in solemn synods been decreed Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, To admit no traffic to
our adverse towns Nay, more, If any born at Ephesus be seen At any Syracusian marts and fairs; Again: if
any Syracusian 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 ransom him. Thy substance, valued at the highest
rate, Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. AEGEON
Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun. DUKE SOLINUS
Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause Why thou departed'st from thy native home And for what cause
thou camest to Ephesus. AEGEON
A heavier task could not have been imposed 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 sorrows give me
leave. In Syracusa was I born, and wed Unto a woman, happy but for me, And by me, had not our hap
been bad. With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased 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 embraced, 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, 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
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 disposed, 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, Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sun, gazing
upon the earth, Dispersed those vapours that offended us; And by the benefit of his wished light, The
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