They can be meek that have no other cause

Dame Judi Dench being absolutely lovely as the rightly confused Adriana.

The Comedy of Errors does exactly what it says on the tin: it's a play rife with slapstick confusion based almost entirely on mistaken identity.

Now, imagine you are Adriana, and your husband, Antipholus of Ephesus, has a super secret estranged identical twin brother from Syracuse, whose manservant Dromio happens to be the super secret estranged identical twin brother of your husband's manservant, and they all have the same first names.  Antipholus of Syracuse has been searching for his brother for five years, and finally stumbled upon an inn in Ephesus, where Dromio of Ephesus shows up and tells him he's late for dinner. Antipholus of Syracuse thinks his manservant has gone mad and roundly smacks him up and down.

Meanwhile, you're at home with your unmarried sister Luciana, who is calmly trying to convince you that you ought to forbear complaint regarding the behavior of your lost husband, because that's what a good wife does. Dromio comes back, says your husband beat him up for telling him to come home. You begin to fret, worried that your beauty is fading and your husband is whoring around.

Luciana pisses you off with her willful attitude of servitude, and you give her a proto-feminist lesson on marital politics, and, essentially, a lesson on walking in someone else's shoes:

The Comedy of Errors, Act II, Sc. I

Adriana: Patience unmoved! No marvel though she pause;
They can be meek that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry,
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience would relieve me;
But, if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begged patience in thee will be left.