Shakespeare & the Horrors of Comedy
"A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind; ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind."
“A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind; ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.” — The Comedy of Errors, Act III, Scene 1, Lines 74-77.
Yep, a fart joke. I did promise some non-English-teacher-approved Shakespeare. It’s not all declarations of love or poignant contemplations of the meaning of life, sometimes it’s just slapstick, fart jokes, and the horrors of mistaken identity. And what better place to discuss the low brow nature of Shakespeare than with The Comedy of Errors. Let’s just say, there isn’t a lot of “there” there in this play. Except for maybe a lesson in comedy?
The Comedy of Errors is an early play, written sometime between 1589 and 1594 (we have a harder time dating the earlier plays when they don’t show up as much in public record). It was around this time that Shakespeare wrote another farce that only ages well if seen as such — The Taming of the Shrew. Like many of his plays, the plot of The Comedy of Errors is evolved from an earlier play — Plautus’s The Menaechmi. But Shakespeare makes this comedy even more ridiculous by doubling the number of twins and giving both sets the same name (talk about poor parental planning). And in making this play as ridiculous as he does, Shakespeare relies on some tried and true tenants of comedy.
A brief confession before we move forward: I do a lot of improv (or, rather, I’m an improviser). Fear not! I’m not going to invite you to a show (although if you wanted to come to a show you could check out “boobytrapcomedy” on Instagram). But I am going to offer a quick lesson in how improvisers build scenes on the fly. In Long-Form improv (building scenes based on suggestions instead of games like in Who’s Line is it Anyway) there are “forms” that are run kind of like plays in a sport (i.e. Scene A relates to Scene A-1 with a weird game in the middle or Character 1 comes back at a certain point in the second half). In The Comedy of Errors, Shakespeare uses two tenants of comedy to add structure to an otherwise, raging comedic mess.
First, there’s the Shakespearean standard: dramatic irony. Meaning, the audience fully understands what’s happening (they’re twins!), and can watch with glee and superiority as the characters fumble around completely confused. Second, he adds a ticking clock (the father dies at the end of the day unless redeemed) and continually reminds us of the time remaining in the day throughout. This ticking clock adds urgency and stakes. Urgency and stakes create tension in the audience, making your audience crave release of that tension in the form of laughter. You may notice that this formula is similar to horror where the release of tension is a jump or scream rather than a laugh. All are involuntary responses to the tension laid in by the work. For this reason, as much as The Comedy of Errors shares DNA with the Three Stooges and that Keaton classic Multiplicity, it also bares similarity to the works of horror writer Dean Koontz and the Schwarzenegger thriller The Sixth Day.
With that in mind, let’s start our play.
The Shake-Scene
The Comedy of Errors is bookended with the story of Egeon, a merchant of Syracuse who has been arrested for coming to port in Ephesus. The relationship between Syracuse and Ephesus is strained for diplomatic reasons, and anyone from Syracuse who dares come to port in Ephesus will be put to death unless someone will pay to ransom him. Egeon tells us a tragic story of how he was in a shipwreck twenty-five years ago wherein his wife, one of his twin sons, and one of the twin servants to his twin sons were lost. And how his remaining son, once he reached eighteen, set off from Syracuse (with the other twin servant) to find his lost mother and brother. Egeon, after not hearing from his sole remaining son for seven years, set off to find him, causing him to land in Ephesus. The Duke pities Egeon, and gives him until sunset to find someone to ransom him, or else… he dies.
Are we laughing yet?
Granted, I did fail to mention that both sons are named “Antipholus” and both servants are named “Dromio.” So, perhaps, there is a bit of comedy laid in.
We then meet Antipholus of Syracuse (for brevity, we’ll call him “A.S.”) and his servant Dromio of Syracuse (“D.S.”) who have just disembarked from a ship into Ephesus. They fair a bit better than Egeon and are warned of the danger of being in town. A.S. gives D.S. all their money and sends him to the inn where they will stay. But soon after D.S. leaves, Dromio of Ephesus (“D.E.”) arrives to chide A.S. for not coming home for dinner. A.S. asks where the money is and D.E. explains he has no money and insists that A.S. hurry home for dinner because the mistress of the house is furious that he is late. A.S. then, thinking Dromio of Ephesus is Dromio of Syracuse, beats D.E. for withholding the money. And the “comedy” of mistaken identity commences!
Meanwhile, back at the house of Antipholus of Ephesus (“A.E.”), his wife Adriana and sister-in-law Luciana are furious that A.E. is standing them up. D.E. returns and says that the person he believes to be A.E. said he had no wife. This doesn’t make Adriana any happier, and she sends D.E. off to fetch her husband once more. Poor D.E.
We are told it is two o’clock. Tick tick tick.
D.S. and A.S. then meet up again, and A.S. chides D.S. for the things D.E. told him before. D.S. is very confused. But before they can work out the confusion, Adriana and her sister arrive to force D.S. and A.S. to come to dinner. A.S. decides to go with the flow and have dinner with the lady. D.S. is pretty sure all of this is the result of some black magic by goblins, elves and sprites, and goes along with the request out of fear. Once home, they leave D.S. to guard the gate to the house and he is to “let no creature enter.”
What comes next is probably predictable. A.E. arrives home to find himself barred from entry by an unseen D.S. D.E. also arrives and is similarly barred. They cause a ruckus and Adriana (and D.E.’s wife Luce) comes to the gate (but cannot see through it) and assume it is a prank and send A.E. and D.E. away. A.E. agrees to leave but, out of spite, decides to give the gold chain he had made for his wife to the hostess of the house where he intends to stay instead. Now, this is amusing for us as an audience because we can clearly see the misunderstanding, but from the perspective of A.E., this is the same set up for so many horror movies about clones or evil twins. And, even within Shakespearean cannon, mistaken beliefs about infidelity can lead to death (#JusticeForDesdamona). It’s also made darker because D.E. is sent to buy a rope (to be given to Adriana instead of the chain, but the danger of such an item is still apparent). So… laughing now?
Meanwhile, inside the house, A.S. has fallen for A.E.’s sister-in-law, Luciana, causing some serious awkwardness. Luciana rebuffs his advances and goes to get Adriana. Meanwhile, D.S. enters mid-existential crisis — “Do you know me sir? Am I Dromio? Am I your man? Am I myself?” He’s just met D.E.’s wife who insists that she is his wife. He then proceeds to cruelly describe her girth and lack of beauty… not all comedy ages well. But, in the end, A.S. concludes that “there’s none but witches do inhabit here” and decides it’s time for them to leave Ephesus. He sends D.S. off to hire a ship for them to leave.
As A.S. intends to leave, he runs into the goldsmith who made the chain for A.E. and his given that chain. A.S. offers to pay for it but the goldsmith laughs it off and says he’ll seek the money when he visits him at home at supper time. The goldsmith going unpaid leads to a great deal of strife for both sets of twins and the goldsmith himself, proving the old adage, there’s no such thing as a free supper.
Shortly thereafter, a merchant comes to the goldsmith and asks for a sum that the goldsmith owes to the merchant. The goldsmith says no worries and they head off to the house of A.E. to get the money for the chain, bumping into A.E. on the way. They ask for the money. A.E. says he’ll pay once he has the chain. The goldsmith says he has the chain and he needs to pay. And, well, who is on first? Whoever it is, A.E. is the one arrested and carted off for non-payment. D.S. arrives and tells A.E. that he’s hired them a ship to leave town. A.E. chides D.S. because he didn’t ask for a ship he wanted rope! No time to properly debate the matter because he is being sent to jail, A.E. sends D.S. to Adriana for money to pay the debt. A.E. is carted off. D.S. doesn’t particularly want to return to the house he’d just escaped, but does so none-the-less.
D.S. goes to Adriana and Luciana (who are discussing how A.S. hit on Luciana… whoops) and gets the money. He then runs into A.S. on the way to bailout A.E. and offers him the money. D.S. is surprised that A.S. is free and A.S. is confused as to why D.S. thought he wasn’t and where the money has come from. But they are prevented from sorting that out by the arrival of the Courtesan. A.E. had eaten with the Courtesan when he was barred from his house, and she traded him a diamond ring for the promise of the chain that A.S. is now wearing. A.S. and D.E., thoroughly convinced that all the confusion is the work of the devil, leave. The Courtesan, having joined the league of confused, is sure that A.E. is mad and goes to tell Adriana that her husband is ill.
Meanwhile, A.E. is being held by an officer when D.E. arrives with the rope. A.E. asks for the money and D.E. has no idea what he’s talking about, so A.E. beats D.E. These beatings are all more Three Stooges than serious as D.E. remains quick-witted and in good health. Adriana, Luciana and the Courtesan then arrive and, seeing A.E. beating D.E. are convinced that A.E. is insane. They’ve brought a school teacher (an interesting choice) to heal him of his madness. They bind up D.E. and A.E. and have them taken back to Adriana’s house. But, mere minutes later, A.S. and D.S. arrive with their swords drawn, threaten them all, and Adriana, et al. run away.
A.S. and D.S. then run into the goldsmith. The goldsmith accuses A.S. of lying about not having the chain. A.S. is offended at being called a liar and draws his sword. But Adriana and company arrive and attempt to capture A.S., so he and D.S. seek asylum in an abbey. We meet an Abbess who berates Adriana for being a nag of a wife and says she will cure A.S. and D.S.
At this point, it is now five o’clock and Egeon (remember him?) is set to be executed. The Duke and Egeon are passing by on the way to Egeon’s execution, and Adriana asks the Duke to reason with the Abbess to give her back her husband. The Duke is indebted to A.S. for serving in the wars, and agrees to help. At this point, a messenger comes to say A.S. and D.S. have escaped, which everyone finds ridiculous because Antiphous and Dromio are in the abbey. A.S. arrives and accuses his wife of locking him out of the house and the goldsmith of swearing a debt against him falsely. Egeon, thinking he recognizes his son, asks him to pay the ransom, but A.S. swears he’s never seen the man.
Finally, the Abbess exits the abbey with A.E. and D.E. and the confusion is cleared up. Bonus? The Abbess is the wife Egeon lost at sea. However, even with the mystery explained, D.S. still asks A.E. if he should fetch the stuff from the ship, and A.S. has to clarify which one of the twins is which. In comedy, we call this final beat a “button.”
So, there you have it. A silly little comedy of quick wit, slapstick, and mistaken identity. But, lest we forget that Shakespeare is never straight forward, he leaves us with this line from D.E. to A.S.:
“We came into the world like brother and brother, and now let’s go hand in hand, not one before another.”
And, taking into consideration the historical context of this play (written a hundred years after the War of the Roses and amidst concerns over the succession of Elizabeth I), perhaps this comedy also contains a reminder that our enemies are more similar to us than we’d like to believe. Maybe there is a little “there” there after all.
Speak the Speech, I Pray You
Bring Shakespeare’s words into your own life by:
Flake on seeing that boring foreign film with your friend and, if she gives you grief, threaten to fart in her face;
Tell the bank you’re not going to pay the mortgage, and, if they give you grief, threaten to fart in their face (but don’t do this, please);
And… blow off running errands and, when you’re roommate gives you grief… you guessed it, threaten to fart in her face:
Additional Resources
Find a copy of the entire play here.
Check out the classic film of identical shenanigans, Multiplicity.
Read about Shakespeare’s modification of his source material here.
Check out a long-form improv show in your area. If you’re in Houston, I’d recommend Station Theater.