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χρέμπτομαι
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This translation of Terence was published in an omnibus volume, also
containing the 1765 Colman translation (text only, omitting notes and
commentary). Since there is no shared material, the two versions have
been released as separate e-texts. More information about the Riley
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Each play is a free-standing unit with its own footnotes.]
The
COMEDIES
of
TERENCE.
Literally Translated into English Prose,
with Notes.
By HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B.A.,
Late Scholar of Clare Hall, Cambridge.
To which is added
the blank verse translation of
GEORGE COLMAN.
New York:
Harper & Brothers, Publishers,
Franklin Square.
1896.
Harper’s
NEW CLASSICAL LIBRARY.
Comprising Literal Translations of
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Scipio’s Dream, Letter to Quintus.
Cicero On Oratory and Orators.
Cicero’s Tusculan Disputations, The Nature of the Gods,
and The Commonwealth.
Juvenal.
Xenophon.
Homer’s Iliad.
Homer’s Odyssey.
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PREFACE.
In this Version of the Plays of Terence the Text of Volbehr, 1846,
has been followed, with the few exceptions mentioned in the Notes.
The Translator has endeavored to convey faithfully the meaning of
the author, and although not rigorously literal, he has, he trusts,
avoided such wild departures from the text as are found in the
versions of Echard, Cooke, Patrick, and Gordon.
CONTENTS.
COMEDIES OF TERENCE: IN PROSE.
Andria; or, the Fair Andrian 1
Eunuchus; or, the Eunuch 63
Heautontimorumenos; or, the Self-Tormentor 132
Adelphi; or, the Brothers 197
Hecyra; the Mother-in-law 254
Phormio; or, the Scheming Parasite 301
* * * * *
* * * *
ANDRIA;
THE FAIR ANDRIAN.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
SIMO,[1] an aged Athenian.
PAMPHILUS,[2] son of Simo.
SOSIA,[3] freedman of Simo.
CHREMES,[4] an aged Athenian.
CHARINUS,[5] a young Athenian, in love with Philumena.
CRITO,[6] a native of Andros.
DAVUS,[7] servant of Simo.
DROMO,[8] servant of Simo.
BYRRHIA,[9] servant of Charinus.
GLYCERIUM,[10] a young woman beloved by Pamphilus.
MYSIS,[11] her maid-servant.
LESBIA,[12] a midwife.
_Scene._--Athens; before the houses of SIMO and GLYCERIUM.
THE SUBJECT
Chremes and Phania were brothers, citizens of Athens. Chremes going to
Asia, leaves his daughter, Pasibula, in the care of his brother
Phania, who, afterward setting sail with Pasibula for Asia, is wrecked
off the Isle of Andros. Escaping with their lives, they are kindly
received by a native of the island; and Phania soon afterward dies
there. The Andrian changes the name of the girl to Glycerium, and
brings her up, as his own child, with his daughter Chrysis. On his
death, Chrysis and Glycerium sail for Athens to seek their fortune
there. Chrysis being admired by several Athenian youths, Pamphilus,
the son of Simo, an opulent citizen, chances to see Glycerium, and
falls violently in love with her. She afterward becomes pregnant by
him, on which he makes her a promise of marriage. In the mean time,
Chremes, who is now living at Athens, and is ignorant of the fate of
Pasibula, agrees with Simo, the father of Pamphilus, to give
Philumena, another daughter, in marriage to Pamphilus. While these
arrangements are being made, Chrysis dies; on which Simo accidentally
discovers his son’s connection with Glycerium. Chremes, also coming to
hear of it, declines the match, having no idea that Glycerium is
really his own daughter. Simo, however, in order to test his son’s
feelings, resolves to pretend that the marriage-day is fixed. Meeting
Pamphilus in the town, he desires him to go home and prepare for the
wedding, which is to take place immediately. In his perplexity, the
youth has recourse to his servant Davus, who, having heard of the
refusal of Chremes, suspects the design of Simo. At this conjuncture,
Charinus, a friend of Pamphilus, who is enamored of Philumena, but has
been rejected by her father, entreats Pamphilus to put off the
marriage, for at least a few days. Disclosing his own aversion to the
match, Pamphilus readily engages to do this. In order the more
effectually to break it off, Davus advises Pamphilus to pretend a
readiness to comply with his father’s wishes, supposing that of course
Chremes will steadily persist in his refusal. Pamphilus does as he is
advised, on which Simo again applies to Chremes, who, after some
entreaty, gives his consent. Just at this conjuncture, Glycerium is
delivered of a son; and by the advice of Davus, it is laid before the
door of Simo’s house. Chremes happening to see it there, and
ascertaining that Pamphilus is its father, again refuses to give him
his daughter. At this moment, Crito, a native of Andros, arrives, who,
being a relative of Chrysis, has come to Athens to look after her
property. Through him, Chremes discovers that Glycerium is no other
than his long-lost daughter, Pasibula; on which he consents to her
immediate marriage with Pamphilus, who promises Charinus that he will
use his best endeavors to obtain for him the hand of Philumena.
THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Megalensian Games;[13] M. Fulvius and M. Glabrio
being Curule Æediles.[14] Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius
Prænestinus[15] performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius,[16]
composed the music, to a pair of treble flutes and bass flutes[17]
alternately. And it is entirely Grecian.[18] Published-- M. Marcellus
and Cneius Sulpicius being Consuls.[19]
ANDRIA;
THE FAIR ANDRIAN.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
Pamphilus seduces Glycerium, wrongfully supposed to be a sister of a
Courtesan, an Andrian by birth; and she having become pregnant, he
gives his word that she shall be his wife; but his father has engaged
for him another, the daughter of Chremes; and when he discovers the
intrigue he pretends that the nuptials are about to take place,
desiring to learn what intentions his son may have. By the advice of
Davus, Pamphilus does not resist; but Chremes, as soon as he has seen
the little child born of Glycerium, breaks off the match, {and}
declines him for a son-in-law. Afterward, this Glycerium, unexpectedly
discovered {to be} his own daughter, he bestows as a wife on
Pamphilus, the other on Charinus.
THE PROLOGUE.
The poet, when first he applied his mind to writing, thought that the
only duty which devolved on him was, that the Plays he should compose
might please the public. But he perceives that it has fallen out
entirely otherwise; for he is wasting his labor in writing Prologues,
not for the purpose of relating the plot, but to answer the slanders
of a malevolent old Poet.[20] Now I beseech you, give your attention
to the thing which they impute as a fault. Menander composed the
Andrian[21] and the Perinthian.[22] He who knows either of them well,
will know them both; they are in plot not very different, and yet they
have been composed in different language and style. What suited, he
confesses he has transferred into the Andrian from the Perinthian, and
has employed them as his own. These parties censure this proceeding;
and on this point they differ {from him}, that Plays ought not to be
mixed up together. By being {thus} knowing, do they not show that they
know nothing at all? For while they are censuring him, they are
censuring Nævius, Plautus, {and} Ennius,[23] whom our {Poet} has for
his precedents; whose carelessness he prefers to emulate, rather than
the mystifying carefulness[24] of those parties. Therefore, I advise
them to be quiet in future, and to cease to slander; that they may not
be made acquainted with their own misdeeds. Be well disposed, then;
attend with unbiased mind, and consider the matter, that you may
determine what hope is left; whether the Plays which he shall in
future compose anew, are to be witnessed, or are rather to be driven
off {the stage}.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.
_Enter SIMO and SOSIA, followed by SERVANTS carrying provisions._
SIMO (_to the Servants._) Do you carry those things away in-doors;
begone. (_Beckoning to SOSIA._) Sosia, just step here; I want a few
words with you.
SOSIA. Consider it as said; that these things are to be taken care of,
I suppose.[25]
SIM. No, it’s another matter.
SOS. What is there that my ability can effect for you more than this?
SIM. There’s no need of that ability in the matter which I have in
hand; but of those {qualities} which I have ever known as existing in
you, fidelity and secrecy.
SOS. I await your will.
SIM. Since I purchased you, you know that, from a little child, your
servitude with me has always been easy and light. From a slave I made
you my freedman;[26] for this reason, because you served me with
readiness. The greatest recompense that I possessed, I bestowed upon
you.
SOS. I bear it in mind.
SIM. I am not changed.
SOS. If I have done or am doing aught that is pleasing to you, Simo,
I am glad that it has been done; and that the same has been gratifying
to you, I consider {sufficient} thanks. But this is a cause of
uneasiness to me; for the recital is, as it were, a censure[27] to one
forgetful of a kindness. But tell me, in one word, what it is that you
want with me.
SIM. I’ll do so. In the first place, in this affair I give you notice:
this, which you suppose to be such, is not a real marriage.
SOS. Why do you pretend it then?
SIM. You shall hear all the matter from the beginning; by that means
you’ll be acquainted with both my son’s mode of life and my own
design, and what I want you to do in this affair. For after he had
passed youthfulness,[28] Sosia, and had obtained free scope of living,
(for before, how could you know or understand his disposition, while
_youthful_ age, fear, _and_ a master[29] were checking him?)--
SOS. That’s true.
SIM. What all young men, for the most part, do,-- devote their
attention to some particular pursuit, either to training horses or
dogs for hunting, or to the philosophers;[30] in not one of these did
he engage in particular beyond the rest, and yet in all of them in a
moderate degree. I was pleased.
SOS. Not without reason; for this I deem in life to be especially
advantageous; that {one do} nothing to excess.[31]
SIM. Such was his mode of life; readily to bear and to comply with
all; with whomsoever he was in company, to them to resign himself; to
devote himself to their pursuits; at variance with no one; never
preferring himself to them. Thus most readily you may acquire praise
without envy, and gain friends.
SOS. He has wisely laid down his rule of life; for in these days
obsequiousness begets friends; sincerity, dislike.
SIM. Meanwhile, three years ago,[32] a certain woman from Andros
removed hither into this neighborhood, driven by poverty and the
neglect of her relations, of surpassing beauty and in the bloom of
youth.
SOS. Ah! I’m afraid that this Andrian will bring some mischief.
SIM. At first, in a modest way, she passed her life with thriftiness
and in hardship, seeking a livelihood with her wool and loom. But
after an admirer made advances, promising her a recompense, {first}
one and then another; as the disposition of all mankind has a downward
tendency from industry toward pleasure, she accepted their proposals,
{and} then began to trade {upon her beauty}. Those who then were her
admirers, by chance, as it {often} happens, took my son thither that
he might be in their company. Forthwith I {said} to myself, “He is
surely caught; he is smitten.”[33] In the morning I used to observe
their servant-boys coming or going away; I used to make inquiry,
“Here, my lad, tell me, will you, who had Chrysis yesterday?” for that
was the name of the Andrian (_touching SOSIA on the arm_).
SOS. I understand.
SIM. Phædrus, or Clinias, or Niceratus, they used to say; for these
three then loved her at the same time. “Well now, what {did} Pamphilus
{do}?” “What? He gave his contribution;[34] he took part in the
dinner.” Just so on another day I made inquiry, but I discovered
nothing whatever that affected Pamphilus. In fact, I thought him
sufficiently proved, and a great pattern of continence; for he who is
brought into contact with dispositions of that sort, and his feelings
are not aroused even under such circumstances, you may be sure that he
is already capable of undertaking the governance of his own life. This
pleased me, and every body with one voice {began} to say all {kinds
of} flattering things, and to extol my {good} fortune, in having a son
endowed with such a disposition. What need is there of talking?
Chremes, influenced by this report, came to me of his own accord, to
offer his only daughter as a wife to my son, with a very large
portion. It pleased me; I betrothed him; this was the day appointed
for the nuptials.
SOS. What then stands in the way? Why should they not take place?
SIM. You shall hear. In about a few days after these things had been
agreed on, Chrysis, this neighbor, dies.
SOS. Bravo! You’ve made me happy. I was afraid for him on account of
Chrysis.
SIM. Then my son was often there, with those who had admired Chrysis;
with them he took charge of the funeral; sorrowful, in the mean time,
he sometimes wept {with them} in condolence. Then that pleased me.
Thus I reflected: “He by reason of this slight intimacy takes her
death so much to heart; what if he himself had wooed her? What will he
do for me his father?” All these things I took to be the duties of a
humane disposition and of tender feelings. Why do I detain you with
many {words}? Even I myself,[35] for his sake, went forth to the
funeral, as yet suspecting no harm.
SOS. Ha! what is this?
SIM. You shall know. She is brought out; we proceed. In the mean time,
among the females who were there present, I saw by chance one young
woman of beauteous form.
SOS. Very likely.
SIM. And of countenance, Sosia, so modest, so charming, that nothing
could surpass. As she appeared to me to lament beyond the rest, and as
she was of a figure handsome and genteel beyond the other women,
I approached the female attendants;[36] I inquired who she was. They
said that she was the sister of Chrysis. It instantly struck my mind:
“Ay, ay, this is it; hence those tears, hence that sympathy.”
SOS. How I dread what you are coming to!
SIM. The funeral procession meanwhile advances; we follow; we come to
the burying-place.[37] She is placed upon the pile; they weep. In the
mean time, this sister, whom I mentioned, approached the flames too
incautiously, with considerable danger. There, at that moment,
Pamphilus, in his extreme alarm, discovers his well-dissembled and
long-hidden passion; he runs up, clasps the damsel by the waist. “My
Glycerium,” says he, “what are you doing? Why are you going to destroy
yourself?” Then she, so that you might easily recognize their habitual
attachment, weeping, threw herself back upon him-- how affectionately!
SOS. What do you say?
SIM. I returned thence in anger, and hurt at heart: and {yet there
was} not sufficient ground for reproving him. He might say; “What have
I done? How have I deserved {this}, or offended, father? She who
wished to throw herself into the flames, I prevented; I saved her.”
The defense is a reasonable one.
SOS. You judge aright; for if you censure him who has assisted to
preserve life, what are you to do to him who causes loss or misfortune
{to it}?
SIM. Chremes comes to me next day, exclaiming: “Disgraceful
conduct!”-- that he had ascertained that Pamphilus was keeping this
foreign woman as a wife. I steadfastly denied that to be the fact. He
insisted that it was the fact. In short, I then left him refusing to
bestow his daughter.
SOS. Did not you then {reprove} your son?
SIM. Not even this was a cause sufficiently strong for censuring him.
SOS. How so? Tell me.
SIM. “You yourself, father,” {he might say}, “have prescribed a limit
to these proceedings. {The time} is near, when I must live according
to the humor of another; meanwhile, for the present allow me to live
according to my own.”
SOS. What room for reproving him, then, is there left?
SIM. If on account of his amour he shall decline to take a wife, that,
in the first place, is an offense on his part to be censured. And now
for this am I using my endeavors, that, by means of the pretended
marriage, there may be real ground for rebuking him, if he should
refuse; at the same time, that if {that} rascal Davus has any scheme,
he may exhaust it now, while {his} knaveries can do no harm: who, I do
believe, with hands, feet, {and} all his might, will do every thing;
and more for this, no doubt, that he may do me an ill turn, than to
oblige my son.
SOS. For what reason?
SIM. Do you ask? Bad heart, bad disposition. Whom, however, if I do
detect-- But what need is there of talking? If it should turn out, as
I wish, that there is no delay on the part of Pamphilus, Chremes
remains to be prevailed upon by me; and I do hope that all will go
well. Now it’s your duty to pretend these nuptials cleverly, to
terrify Davus; and watch my son, what he’s about, what schemes he is
planning with him.
SOS. ’Tis enough; I’ll take care; now let’s go in-doors.
SIM. You go first; I’ll follow. (_SOSIA goes into the house of SIMO._)
SIM. (_to himself._) There’s no doubt but that my son doesn’t wish for
a wife; so alarmed did I perceive Davus to be just now, when he heard
that there was going to be a marriage. But the very man is coming out
of the house. (_Stands aside._)
SCENE II.
_Enter DAVUS from the house of SIMO._
DAV. (_aloud to himself._) I was wondering if this matter was to go
off thus; and was continually dreading where my master’s good humor
would end; for, after he had heard that a wife would not be given to
his son, he never uttered a word to any one of us, or took it amiss.
SIM. (_apart, overhearing him._) But now he’ll do {so}: and that,
I fancy, not without heavy cost to you.
DAV. (_to himself._) He meant this, that we, thus unsuspecting, should
be led away by delusive joy; that now in hope, {all} fear being
removed, we might during our supineness be surprised, so that there
might be no time for planning a rupture of the marriage. How clever!
SIM. (_apart._) The villain! what does he say?
DAV. (_overhearing him, to himself._) It’s my master, and I didn’t see
him.
SIM. Davus.
DAV. Well, what is it?
SIM. Just step this way to me.
DAV. (_to himself._) What does he want?
SIM. What are you saying?
DAV. About what?
SIM. Do you ask the question? There’s a report that my son’s in love.
DAV. The public troubles itself about that,[38] of course.
SIM. Will you attend to this, or not?
DAV. Certainly, I {will}, to that.
SIM. But for me to inquire now into these matters, were the part of a
severe father. For what he has done hitherto, doesn’t concern me at
all. So long as his time {of life} prompted to that course, I allowed
him to indulge his inclination: now this day brings on another mode of
life, demands other habits. From this time forward, I do request, or
if it is reasonable, I do entreat you, Davus, that he may now return
to the {right} path.
DAV. (_aside._) What can this mean?
SIM. All who are intriguing take it ill to have a wife given them.
DAV. So they say.
SIM. And if any one has adopted a bad instructor in that course, he
generally urges the enfeebled mind to pursuits still more unbecoming.
DAV. I’faith, I do not comprehend.
SIM. No? Ha----
DAV. No-- I am Davus, not Œdipus.[39]
SIM. Of course then, you wish me to speak plainly in what further I
have to say.
DAV. Certainly, by all means.
SIM. If I this day find out that you are attempting any trickery about
this marriage, to the end that it may not take place; or are desirous
that in this matter it should be proved how knowing you are; I’ll hand
you over, Davus, beaten with stripes, to the mill,[40] even to your
dying day, upon this condition and pledge, that if {ever} I release
you, I shall grind in your place. Now, do you understand this? Or not
yet even this?
DAV. Yes, perfectly: you have now spoken so plainly upon the subject,
you have not used the least circumlocution.
SIM. In any thing would I more willingly allow myself to be imposed
upon than in this matter.
DAV. Fair words, I entreat.
SIM. You are ridiculing {me}: you don’t at all deceive me. I give you
warning, don’t act rashly, and don’t say you were not warned. Take
care. (_Shaking his stick, goes into the house._)
SCENE III.
_DAVUS alone._
DAV. (_to himself._) Assuredly, Davus, there’s no room for
slothfulness or inactivity, so far as I’ve just now ascertained the
old man’s mind about the marriage; which if it is not provided against
by cunning, will be bringing either myself or my master to ruin. What
to do, I am not determined; whether I should assist Pamphilus or obey
the old man. If I desert the former, I fear for his life; if I assist
him, I {dread} the other’s threats, on whom it will be a difficult
matter to impose. In the first place, he has now found out about this
amour; with hostile feelings he watches me, lest I should be devising
some trickery against the marriage. If he discovers it, I’m undone; or
even {if} he chooses to allege any pretext, whether rightfully or
wrongfully, he will consign me headlong to the mill. To these evils
this one is besides added for me. This Andrian, whether she is {his}
wife, or whether {his} mistress, is pregnant by Pamphilus. It is worth
while to hear their effrontery; for it is an undertaking {worthy} of
those in their dotage, not of those who dote in love;[41] whatever she
shall bring forth, they have resolved to rear;[42] and they are now
contriving among themselves a certain scheme, that she is a citizen of
Attica. There was formerly a certain old man of this place,
a merchant; he was shipwrecked off the Isle of Andros; he died. {They
say} that there, the father of Chrysis, on that occasion, sheltered
this girl, thrown on shore, an orphan, a little child. What nonsense!
To myself at least it isn’t very probable; the fiction pleases them,
however. But Mysis is coming out of the house. Now I’ll {betake}
myself hence to the Forum,[43] that I may meet with Pamphilus, lest
his father should take him by surprise about this matter. (_Exit._
SCENE IV.
_Enter MYSIS from the house of GLYCERIUM._
MYS. (_speaking at the door to Archylis within._) I’ve heard you
already, Archylis; you request Lesbia to be fetched. Really, upon my
faith, she is a wine-bibbing[44] and a rash woman, and not
sufficiently trustworthy for you to commit to her care a female at her
first delivery; is she still to be brought? (_She receives an answer
from within, and comes forward._) Do look at the inconsiderateness of
the old woman; because she is her pot-companion. Ye Gods, I do entreat
you, give her ease in her delivery, and to that woman an opportunity
of making her mistakes elsewhere in preference. But why do I see
Pamphilus so out of spirits? I fear what it may be. I’ll wait, that I
may know whether this sorrow portends any disaster. (_Stands apart._)
SCENE V.
_Enter PAMPHILUS, wringing his hands._
PAM. (_to himself._) Is it humane to do or to devise this? Is this the
duty of a father?
MYS. (_apart._) What does this mean?
PAM. (_to himself._) O, by our faith in the Gods! what is, if this is
not, an indignity? He had resolved that he himself would give me a
wife to-day; ought I not to have known this beforehand? Ought it not
to have been mentioned previously?
MYS. (_apart._) Wretched me! What language do I hear?
PAM. (_to himself._) What {does} Chremes {do}? He who had declared
that he would not intrust his daughter to me as a wife; because he
{himself} sees me unchanged he has changed. Thus perversely does he
lend his aid, that he may withdraw wretched me from Glycerium. If this
is effected, I am utterly undone. That any man should be so unhappy in
love, or {so} unfortunate as I am! Oh, faith of Gods and men! shall I
by no device be able to escape {this} alliance with Chremes? In how
many ways {am} I contemned, {and} held in scorn? Every thing done,
{and} concluded! Alas! {once} rejected I am sought again; for what
reason? Unless perhaps it is this, which I suspect it is: they are
rearing some monster,[45] {and} as she can not be pushed off upon any
one {else}, they have recourse to me.
MYS. (_apart._) This language has terrified wretched me with
apprehension.
PAM. (_to himself._) But what am I to say about my father? Alas! that
he should so thoughtlessly conclude an affair of such importance!
Passing me in the Forum just now, he said, “Pamphilus, you must be
married to-day: get ready; be off home.” He seemed to me to say this:
“Be off this instant, and go hang yourself.” I was amazed; think you
that I was able to utter a single word, or any excuse, even a
frivolous, false, {or} lame one? I was speechless. But if any one were
to ask me now what I would have done, if I had known this sooner,
{why}, I would have done any thing rather than do this. But now, what
course shall I first adopt? So many cares beset me, which rend my mind
to pieces; love, sympathy for her, the worry of this marriage; then,
respect for my father, who has ever, until now, with such an indulgent
disposition, allowed me to do whatever was agreeable to my feelings.
Ought I to oppose him? Ah me! I am in uncertainty what to do.
MYS. (_apart._) I’m wretchedly afraid how this uncertainty is to
terminate. But now there’s an absolute necessity, either for him to
speak to her, or for me {to speak} to him about her. While the mind is
in suspense, it is swayed by a slight impulse one way or the other.
PAM. (_overhearing her._) Who is it speaking here? (_Seeing her._)
Mysis? Good-morrow to you.
MYS. Oh! Good-morrow to you, Pamphilus.
PAM. How is she?
MYS. Do you ask? She is oppressed with grief,[46] and on this account
the poor thing is anxious, because some time ago the marriage was
arranged for this day. Then, too, she fears this, that you may forsake
her.
PAM. Ha! could I attempt that? Could I suffer her, poor thing, to be
deceived on my account? She, who has confided to me her affection, and
her entire existence? She, whom I have held especially dear to my
feelings as my wife? Shall I suffer her mind, well and chastely
trained and tutored, to be overcome by poverty and corrupted? I will
not do it.
MYS. I should have no fear if it rested with yourself alone; but
whether you may be able to withstand compulsion--
PAM. Do you deem me so cowardly, so utterly ungrateful, inhuman, {and}
so brutish, that neither intimacy, nor affection, nor shame, can move
or admonish me to keep faith?
MYS. This one thing I know, that she is deserving that you should not
forget her.
PAM. Forget her? Oh Mysis, Mysis, at this moment are those words of
Chrysis concerning Glycerium written on my mind. Now at the point of
death, she called me; I went to her; you had withdrawn; we were alone;
she began: “My dear Pamphilus, you see her beauty and her {youth}; and
it is not unknown to you to what extent both of these are now of use
to her, in protecting both her chastity and her interests. By this
right hand I do entreat you, and by your {good} Genius,[47] by your
own fidelity, and by her bereft condition, do not withdraw yourself
from her, or forsake her; if I have loved you as my own brother, or if
she has always prized you above all others, or has been obedient to
you in all things. You do I give to her as a husband, friend,
protector, father. This property of mine do I intrust to you, and
commit to your care.” She placed her in my hands; that instant, death
came upon her. I accepted her; having accepted, I will protect her.
MYS. So indeed I hope. (_Moving._)
PAM. But why are you leaving her?
MYS. I’m going to fetch the midwife.[48]
PAM. Make all haste. And-- do you hear?-- take care, {and} not one
word about the marriage, lest that too {should add} to her illness.
MYS. I understand. (_Exeunt severally._
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.
_Enter CHARINUS and BYRRHIA.[49]_
CHAR. How say you, Byrrhia? Is she to be given in marriage to
Pamphilus to-day?
BYR. It is so.
CHAR. How do you know?
BYR. I heard {it} just now from Davus at the Forum.
CHAR. Woe unto wretched me! As, hitherto, until now, my mind has been
racked amid hope and fear; so, since hope has been withdrawn, wearied
with care, it sinks overwhelmed.
BYR. By my troth, Charinus, since that which you wish can not come to
pass, prithee, do wish that which can.
CHAR. I wish for nothing else but Philumena.
BYR. Alas! How much better were it for you to endeavor to expel that
passion from your mind, than to be saying that by which your desire is
to no purpose still more inflamed.
CHAR. We all, when we are well, with ease give good advice to the
sick. If you were in my situation, you would think otherwise.
BYR. Well, well, just as you like.
CHAR. (_looking down the side scene._) But I see Pamphilus; I’m
determined I’ll try every thing before I despair.
BYR. (_aside_) What does he mean?
CHAR. I will entreat his own self; I will supplicate him; I will
disclose to him my love. I think that I shall prevail upon him to put
off the marriage for some days at least; in the mean time, something
will turn up, I trust.
BYR. That something is nothing.
CHAR. Byrrhia, how seems it to you? Shall I accost him?
BYR. Why not? Should you not prevail, that at least he may look upon
you as a gallant {ready} provided for him, if he marries her.
CHAR. Away with you to perdition with that vile suggestion, you
rascal!
SCENE II.
_Enter PAMPHILUS._
PAM. I espy Charinus. (_Accosting him._) Good-morrow!
CHAR. O, good-morrow. Pamphilus, I’m come to you, seeking hope,
safety, counsel, {and} assistance.
PAM. I’faith, I have neither time for counsel, nor resources for
assistance. But what’s the matter now?
CHAR. To-day you are going to take a wife?
PAM. {So} they say.
CHAR. Pamphilus, if you do that, you behold me this day for the last
time.
PAM. Why so?
CHAR. Ah me! I dread to tell it; prithee, do you tell it, Bvrrhia.
BYR. I’ll tell it.
PAM. What is it?
BYR. He’s in love with your betrothed.
PAM. Assuredly he’s not of my way of thinking. Come now, tell me, have
you had any more {to do} with her, Charinus?
CHAR. Oh Pamphilus, nothing.
PAM. How much I wish {you had}.
CHAR. Now, by our friendship and by my affection, I do beseech you, in
the first place, not to marry her.
PAM. For my own part I’ll use my endeavors.
CHAR. But if that can not be, or if this marriage is agreeable to
you--
PAM. Agreeable to me?
CHAR. Put it off for some days at least, while I go elsewhere, that I
may not be witness.
PAM. Now listen, once for all: I think it, Charinus, to be by no means
the part of an ingenuous man, when he confers nothing, to expect that
it should be considered as an obligation on his part. I am more
desirous to avoid this match, than you to gain it.
CHAR. You have restored me to life.
PAM. Now, if you can do any thing, either you yourself, or Byrrhia
here, manage, fabricate, invent, contrive {some means}, whereby she
may be given to you; this I shall aim at, how she may not be given to
me.
CHAR. I am satisfied.
PAM. Most opportunely I perceive Davus, on whose advice I have
depended.
CHAR. (_turning to BYRRHIA._) But you, i’faith, {tell} me nothing,[50]
except those things which there is no need for knowing. (_Pushing him
away._) Get you gone from here.
BYR. Certainly I {will}, and with all my heart. (_Exit._
SCENE III.
_Enter DAVUS in haste._
DAV. (_not seeing PAMPHILUS and CHARINUS._) Ye gracious Gods, what
good news I bring! But where shall I find Pamphilus, that I may remove
the apprehension in which he now is, and fill his mind with joy--?
CHAR. (_apart to PAMPHILUS._) He’s rejoiced about something, I don’t
know what.
PAM. (_apart._) It’s of no consequence; he hasn’t yet heard of these
misfortunes.
DAV. (_to himself._) For I do believe now, if he has already heard
that a marriage is prepared for him--
CHAR. (_apart._) Don’t you hear him?
DAV. (_to himself._) He is seeking me distractedly all the city over.
But where shall I look for him? Or in which direction now first to
betake me--
CHAR. (_apart to PAMPHILUS._) Do you hesitate to accost him?
DAV. (_to himself._) I have it. (_Moving on._)
PAM. Davus, come here! Stop!
DAV. Who’s the person that’s-- (_Turning round._) O Pamphilus, you are
the very man I’m looking for. Well done, Charinus! both in the nick of
time: I want you {both}.
CHAR. Davus, I’m undone!
DAV. Nay but, do hear this.
PAM. I’m utterly ruined!
DAV. I know what you are afraid of.
CHAR. I’faith, my life indeed is really in danger.
DAV. (_to CHARINUS._) And what you {are afraid of}, I know.
PAM. My marriage--
DAV. As if I did not know it?
PAM. This day--
DAV. Why keep dinning me {with it}, when I know it all? (_To
PAMPHILUS._) This are you afraid of, lest you should marry her; and
you (_to CHARINUS,_) lest you should not marry her.
CHAR. You understand the matter.
PAM. That’s the very thing.
DAV. And that very thing is in no danger; trust me for that.
PAM. I do entreat you, release wretched me as soon as possible from
this apprehension.
DAV. Well, then, I will release you; Chremes is not going to give you
his daughter at present.
PAM. How do you know?
DAV. You shall know. Your father just now laid hold of me; he said
that a wife was to be given you to-day, and many other things as well,
which just now I haven’t time to relate. Hastening to you immediately,
I ran on to the Forum that I might tell you these things. When I
didn’t find you, I ascended there to a high place.[51] I looked
around; you were nowhere. There by chance I saw Byrrhia, his {servant}
(_pointing to CHARINUS_). I inquired of him; he said he hadn’t seen
you. This puzzled me. I considered what I was to do. As I was
returning in the mean time, a surmise from the circumstances
themselves occurred to me: “How now,-- a very small amount of good
cheer; he out of spirits; a marriage all of a sudden; {these things}
don’t agree.”
PAM. But to what purpose this?
DAV. I forthwith {betook} myself to the house of Chremes. When I
arrived there-- stillness before the door;[52] then I was pleased at
that.
CHAR. You say well.
PAM. Proceed.
DAV. I stopped {there}. In the mean time I saw no one going in, no one
going out; no matron at the house,[53] no preparation, no bustle.
I drew near; looked in--
PAM. I understand; a considerable indication.
DAV. Do these things seem to accord with a wedding?
PAM. I think not, Davus.
DAV. Think, do you say? You don’t view it rightly; the thing is
certain. Besides, coming away from there I saw the servant-boy of
Chremes carrying some vegetables and little fishes, an obol’s
worth,[54] for the old man’s dinner.
CHAR. This day, Davus, have I been delivered by your means.
DAV. And yet not at all.
CHAR. Why so? Surely he will not give her to him, after all this.
(_Pointing to PAMPHILUS._)
DAV. You silly fellow! as though it were a necessary consequence that
if he doesn’t give her to him you should marry her: unless, {indeed},
you look about you; unless you entreat {and} make court to the old
man’s friends.
CHAR. You advise well. I’ll go; although, upon my faith, this hope has
often eluded me already. Farewell! (_Exit._
SCENE IV.
_PAMPHILUS and DAVUS._
PAM. What then does my father mean? Why does he {thus} make pretense?
DAV. I’ll tell you. If now he were angry {with you}, because Chremes
will not give you a wife, he would seem to himself to be unjust, and
that not without reason, before he has ascertained your feelings as to
the marriage, how they are disposed. But if you refuse to marry her,
in that case he will transfer the blame to you; then such disturbances
will arise.
PAM. I will submit to any thing {from him}.
DAV. He is your father, Pamphilus. It is a difficult matter. Besides,
this woman is defenseless. No sooner said than done; he will find some
pretext for driving her away from the city.
PAM. Driving her away?
DAV. {Aye}, and quickly too.
PAM. Tell me then, Davus, what am I to do?
DAV. Say that you will marry her.
PAM. (_starting._) Ha!
DAV. What’s the matter?
PAM. What, am I to say so?
DAV. Why not?
PAM. Never will I do it.
DAV. Don’t say so.
PAM. Don’t attempt to persuade me.
DAV. Consider what will be the result of it.
PAM. That I shall be deprived of the one, {and} fixed with the other.
DAV. Not so. In fact, I think it will be thus: Your father will say:
“I wish you to marry a wife to-day.” You reply: “I’ll marry her.” Tell
me, how can he raise a quarrel with you? Thus you will cause all the
plans which are now arranged by him to be disarranged, without any
danger; for this is not to be doubted, that Chremes will not give you
his daughter. Therefore do not hesitate in those measures which you
are taking, on this account, lest he should change his sentiments.
Tell your father that you consent; so that although he may desire it,
he may not be able to be angry at you with reason. For that which you
rely on, I will easily refute; “No one,” {you think}, “will give a
wife to {a person of} these habits.” But he will find a beggar for
you, rather than allow you to be corrupted {by a mistress}. If,
however, he shall believe that you bear it with a contented mind, you
will render him indifferent; at his leisure he will look out for
another {wife for you}; in the mean time something lucky may turn up.
PAM. Do you think so?
DAV. It really is not a matter of doubt.
PAM. Consider to what you are persuading me.
DAV. Nay, but do be quiet.
PAM. Well, I’ll say it; but, that he mayn’t come to know that she has
had a child by me, is a thing to be guarded against; for I have
promised to bring it up.
DAV. Oh, piece of effrontery.
PAM. She entreated me that I would give her this pledge, by which she
might be sure she should not be deserted.
DAV. It shall be attended to; but your father’s coming. Take care that
he doesn’t perceive that you are out of spirits.
SCENE V.
_Enter SIMO, at a distance._
SIM. (_apart to himself._) I’ve come back to see what they are about,
or what scheme they are hatching.
DAV. (_to PAMPHILUS._) He has no doubt at present but that you’ll
refuse to marry. Having considered his course, he’s come from a
retired spot somewhere or other; he hopes that he has framed a speech
by which to disconcert you; do you take care, then, to be yourself.
PAM. If I am only able, Davus.
DAV. Trust me for that, Pamphilus, I tell you; your father will never
this day exchange a single word with you, if you say that you will
marry.
SCENE VI.
_Enter BYRRHIA, unperceived, at a distance behind SIMO._
BYR. (_apart to himself._) My master has ordered me, leaving my
business, to keep an eye on Pamphilus to-day, what he is doing with
regard to the marriage. I was to learn it; for that reason, I have now
followed him[55] (_pointing to SIMO_) as he came {hither}. Himself, as
well, I see standing with Davus close at hand; I’ll note this.
SIM. (_apart to himself._) I see that both of them are here.
DAV. (_in a low voice to PAMPHILUS._) Now then, be on your guard.
SIM. Pamphilus!
DAV. (_in a low voice._) Look round at him as though taken unawares.
PAM. (_turning round sharply._) What, my father!
DAV. (_in a low voice._) Capital!
SIM. I wish you to marry a wife to-day, as I was saying.
BYR. (_apart._) Now I’m in dread for our side, as to what he will
answer.
PAM. Neither in that nor in any thing else shall you ever find any
hesitation in me.
BYR. (_apart._) Hah!
DAV. (_in a low voice to PAMPHILUS._) He is struck dumb.
BYR. (_apart._) What a speech!
SIM. You act as becomes you, when that which I ask I obtain with {a
good} grace.
DAV. (_aside to PAMPHILUS._) Am I right?
BYR. My master, so far as I learn, has missed his wife.
SIM. Now, then, go in-doors, that you mayn’t be causing delay when you
are wanted.
PAM. I’ll go. (_Goes into the house._)
BYR. (_apart._) Is there, in no case, putting trust in any man? That
is a true proverb which is wont to be commonly quoted, that “all had
rather it to be well for themselves than for another.” I remember
noticing, when I saw her, {that she was} a young woman of handsome
figure; wherefore I am the more {disposed to excuse} Pamphilus, if he
has preferred that he himself, rather than the other, should embrace
her in his slumbers. I’ll carry back these tidings, that, in return
for this evil he may inflict evil upon me.[56] (_Exit._
SCENE VII.
_SIMO and DAVUS._
DAV. (_aside, coming away from the door of the house._) He now
supposes that I’m bringing some trick to bear against him, and that on
that account I’ve remained here.
SIM. What does he say, Davus?[57]
DAV. Just as much as nothing.[58]
SIM. What, nothing? Eh?
DAV. Nothing at all.
SIM. And yet I certainly was expecting something.
DAV. It has turned out contrary to your expectations. (_Aside._)
I perceive it; this vexes the man.
SIM. Are you able to tell me the truth?
DAV. I? Nothing more easy.
SIM. Is this marriage at all disagreeable to him, on account of his
intimacy with this foreign woman?
DAV. No, faith; or if at all, it is a two or three days’ annoyance
this-- you understand. It will then cease. Moreover, he himself has
thought over this matter in a proper way.
SIM. I commend him.
DAV. While it was allowed him, and while his years prompted him, he
intrigued; {even} then it {was} secretly. He took precaution that that
circumstance should never be a cause of disgrace to him, as behooves a
man of principle; now that he must have a wife, he has set his mind
upon a wife.
SIM. He seemed to me to be somewhat melancholy in a slight degree.
DAV. Not at all on account of her, but there’s something he blames you
for.
SIM. What is it, pray?
DAV. It’s a childish thing.
SIM. What is it?
DAV. Nothing at all.
SIM. Nay but, tell me what it is.
DAV. He says that you are making too sparing preparations.
SIM. What, I?
DAV. You. --He says that there has hardly been fare provided to the
amount of ten drachmæ.[59] --“Does he seem to be bestowing a wife on
his son? Which one now, in preference, of my companions shall I invite
to the dinner?” And, it must be owned, you really {are providing} too
parsimoniously-- I do not commend you.
SIM. Hold your tongue.
DAV. (_aside._) I’ve touched him up.
SIM. I’ll see that these things are properly done. (_DAVUS goes into
the house._) What’s the meaning of this? What does this old rogue
mean? But if there’s any knavery here, why, he’s sure to be the source
of the mischief. (_Goes into his house._)
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_Enter SIMO and DAVUS from the house of the former. MYSIS and LESBIA
are coming toward the house of GLYCERIUM._
MYS. (_not seeing SIMO and DAVUS._) Upon my faith, the fact is really
as you mentioned, Lesbia, you can hardly find a man constant to a
woman.
SIM. (_apart to DAVUS._) This maid-servant comes from the Andrian.
DAV. (_apart to SIMO._) What do you say?
SIM. (_apart to DAVUS._) It is so.
MYS. But this Pamphilas----
SIM. (_apart to DAVUS._) What is she saying?
MYS. Has proved his constancy.
SIM. (_apart._) Hah!
DAV. (_apart to himself._) I wish that either he were deaf, or she
struck dumb.
MYS. For the child she brings forth, he has ordered to be brought up.
SIM. (_apart._) O Jupiter! What do I hear! It’s all over, if indeed
this woman speaks the truth.
LES. You mention a good disposition on the part of the young man.
MYS. A most excellent one. But follow me in-doors, that you mayn’t
keep her waiting.
LES. I’ll follow. (_MYSIS and LESBIA go into GLYCERIUM’S house._)
SCENE II.
_SIMO and DAVUS._
DAV. (_aside._) What remedy now shall I find for this mishap?
SIM. (_to himself aloud._) What does this mean? Is he so infatuated?
{The child} of a foreign woman? Now I understand; ah! scarcely even at
last, in my stupidity, have I found it out.
DAV. (_aside to himself._) What does he say he has found out?
SIM. (_aside._) This piece of knavery is being now for the first time
palmed upon me by this fellow; they are pretending that she’s in
labor, in order that they may alarm Chremes.
GLY. (_exclaiming from within her house._) Juno Lucina,[60] grant me
thine aid, save me, I do entreat thee!
SIM. Whew! so sudden? What nonsense! As soon as she has heard that I’m
standing before the door, she makes all haste. These {incidents},
Davus, have not been quite happily adapted by you as to the points of
time.
DAV. By me?
SIM. Are your scholars forgetful?[61]
DAV. I don’t know what you are talking about.
SIM. (_aside._) If he at the real marriage {of my son} had taken me
off my guard, what sport he would have made of me. Now it is at his
own risk; I’m sailing in harbor.
SCENE III.
_Re-enter LESBIA from the house of GLYCERIUM._
LES. (_speaking to ARCHYLIS at the door, and not seeing SIMO and
DAVUS._) As yet, Archylis, all the customary symptoms which ought to
exist toward recovery, I perceive in her. Now, in the first place,
take care and let her bathe;[62] then, after that, what I ordered to
be given her to drink, and as much as I prescribed, do you administer:
presently I will return hither. (_To herself aloud._) By all that’s
holy, a fine boy has been born to Pamphilus. I pray the Gods that he
may survive, since {the father} himself is of a good disposition, and
since he has hesitated to do an injustice to this most excellent young
woman. (_Exit._
SCENE IV.
_SIMO and DAVUS._
SIM. Even this, who is there that knows you that would not believe
that it originated in you?
DAV. Why, what is this?
SIM. She didn’t order in their presence what was requisite to be done
for the woman lying in; but after she has come out, she bawls from the
street to those who are in the house. O Davus, am I thus trifled with
by you? Or pray, do I seem to you so very well suited to be thus
openly imposed upon by your tricks? At all events {it should have
been} with precaution; that at least I might have seemed to be feared
if I should detect it.
DAV. (_aside._) Assuredly, upon my faith, it’s he that’s now
{deceiving} himself, not I.
SIM. I gave you warning, I forbade you with threats to do it. Have you
been awed? What has it availed? Am I to believe you now in this, that
this woman has had a child by Pamphilus?
DAV. (_aside._) I understand where he’s mistaken; and I see what I
must do.
SIM. Why are you silent?
DAV. What would you believe? As though word had not been brought you
that thus it would happen.
SIM. Any {word brought} to me?
DAV. Come now, did you of your own accord perceive that this was
counterfeited?
SIM. I am being trifled with.
DAV. Word has been brought you; for {otherwise} how could this
suspicion have occurred to you?
SIM. How? Because I knew you.
DAV. As though you meant to say that this has been done by my
contrivance.
SIM. Why, I’m sure of it, to a certainty.
DAV. Not yet even do you know me sufficiently, Simo, what sort of
person I am.
SIM. I, not {know} you!
DAV. But if I begin to tell {you} any thing, at once you think that
deceit is being practiced upon you in guile; therefore, upon my faith,
I don’t dare now {even} to whisper.
SIM. This one thing I am sure of, that no person has been delivered
here. (_Pointing to GLYCERIUM’S house._)
DAV. You have discovered {that}? Still, not a bit the less will they
presently be laying the child[63] here before the door. Of this, then,
I now warn you, master, that it will happen, that you may be aware of
it. Don’t you hereafter be saying that this was done through the
advice or artifices of Davus. I wish this suspicion of yours to be
entirely removed from myself.
SIM. How do you know that?
DAV. I’ve heard so, and I believe it: many things combine for me to
form this conjecture. In the first place then, she declared that she
was pregnant by Pamphilus; that has been proved to be false.[64] Now,
when she sees that preparations are being made for the wedding at our
house, the maid-servant is directly sent to fetch the midwife to her,
and to bring a child at the same time.[65] Unless it is managed for
you to see the child, the marriage will not be at all impeded.
SIM. What do you say {to this}? When you perceived that they were
adopting this plan, why didn’t you tell Pamphilus immediately?
DAV. Why, who has induced him to leave her, but myself? For, indeed,
we all know how desperately he loved her. Now he wishes for a wife. In
fine, do you intrust me with that affair; proceed however, as before,
to celebrate these nuptials, just as you are doing, and I trust that
the Gods will prosper this matter.
SIM. Very well; be off in-doors; wait for me there, and get ready
what’s necessary to be prepared. (_DAVUS goes into the house._) He
hasn’t prevailed upon me {even} now altogether to believe these
things, and I don’t know whether what he has said is all true; but I
deem it of little moment; this is of far greater importance to me--
that my son himself has promised me. Now I’ll go and find Chremes;
I’ll ask him for a wife for my son; if I obtain my request, at what
other time rather than to-day should I prefer these nuptials taking
place? For as my son has promised, I have no doubt but that if he
should prove unwilling, I can fairly compel him. And look! here’s
Chremes himself, just at the very time.
SCENE V.
_Enter CHREMES._
SIM. I greet you, Chremes.
CHREM. O, you are the very person I was looking for.
SIM. And I for you.
CHREM. You meet me at a welcome moment. Some persons have been to me,
to say that they had heard from you, that my daughter was to be
married to your son to-day; I’ve come to see whether they are out of
their senses or you.
SIM. Listen; in a few words you shall learn both what I want of you,
and what you seek {to know}.
CHREM. I am listening; say what you wish.
SIM. By the Gods, I do entreat you, Chremes, and {by} our friendship,
which, commencing with our infancy, has grown up with our years, and
by your only daughter and by my own son (of preserving whom the entire
power lies with you), that you will assist me in this matter; and
that, just as this marriage was about to be celebrated, it may be
celebrated.
CHREM. O, don’t importune me; as though you needed to obtain this of
me by entreaty. Do you suppose I am different now from what I was
formerly, when I promised her? If it is for the advantage of them both
that it should take place, order her to be sent for. But if from this
course there would result more harm than advantage for each, this I do
beg of you, that you will consult for their common good, as though she
were your own {daughter}, and I the father of Pamphilus.
SIM. Nay, so I intend, and so I wish it to be, Chremes; and I would
not ask it of you, did not the occasion itself require it.
CHREM. What is the matter?
SIM. There is a quarrel between Glycerium and my son.
CHREM. (_ironically_) I hear {you}.
SIM. So much so, that I’m in hopes they may be separated.
CHREM. Nonsense!
SIM. It really is so.
CHREM. After this fashion, i’faith, I tell you, “the quarrels of
lovers {are} the renewal of love.”
SIM. Well-- this I beg of you, that we may prevent it. While an
opportunity offers, and while his passion is cooled by affronts,
before the wiles of these women and their tears, craftily feigned,
bring back his love-sick mind to compassion, let us give him a wife.
I trust, Chremes, that, when attached by intimacy and a respectable
marriage, he will easily extricate himself from these evils.
CHREM. So it appears to you; but I do not think[66] that either he can
possibly hold to her with constancy, or that I can put up with it if
he does not.
SIM. How then can you be sure of that, unless you make the experiment?
CHREM. But for that experiment to be made upon a daughter is a serious
thing----
SIM. Why look, all the inconvenience in fine amounts to this--
possibly, which may the Gods forfend, a separation may take place. But
if he is reformed, see how many are the advantages: in the first
place, you will have restored a son to your friend; you will obtain a
sure son-in-law[67] for yourself, and a husband for your daughter.
CHREM. What is {one to say} to all this? If you feel persuaded that
this is beneficial, I don’t wish that any advantage should be denied
you.
SIM. With good reason, Chremes, have I always considered you a most
valuable friend.
CHREM. But how say you----?
SIM. What?
CHREM. How do you know that they are now at variance?
SIM. Davus himself, who is privy to {all} their plans, has told me so;
and he advises me to expedite the match as fast as I can. Do you think
he would do so, unless he was aware that my son desired it? You
yourself as well shall presently hear what he says. (_Goes to the door
of his house and calls._) Halloo there! Call Davus out here. Look,
here he is; I see him just coming out.
SCENE VI.
_Enter DAVUS from the house._
DAV. I was coming to you.
SIM. Why, what’s the matter?
DAV. Why isn’t the bride sent for?[68] It’s now growing late in the
day.
SIM. Do you hear me? I’ve been for some time not a little apprehensive
of you, Davus, lest you should do that which the common class of
servants is in the habit of doing, namely, impose upon me by your
artifices; because my son is engaged in an amour.
DAV. What, I do that?
SIM. I fancied {so}; and therefore, fearing that, I concealed from you
what I shall now mention.
DAV. What?
SIM. You shall know; for now I almost feel confidence in you.
DAV. Have you found out at last what sort of a person I am?
SIM. The marriage was not to have taken place.
DAV. How? Not {to have taken place}?
SIM. But I was making pretense, that I might test you {all}.
DAV. (_affecting surprise._) What is it you tell me?
SIM. Such is the fact.
DAV. {Only} see! I was not able to discover that. Dear me! what a
cunning contrivance!
SIM. Listen to this. Just as I ordered you to go from here into the
house, he (_pointing to CHREMES_) most opportunely met me.
DAV. (_aside._) Ha! Are we undone, then?
SIM. I told him what you just now told me.
DAV. (_aside._) Why, what am I to hear?
SIM. I begged him to give his daughter, and with difficulty I
prevailed upon him.
DAV. (_aside._) Utterly ruined!
SIM. (_overhearing him speaking._) Eh-- What was it you said?
DAV. Extremely well done, I say.
SIM. There’s no delay on his part now.
CHREM. I’ll go home at once; I’ll tell her to make due preparation,
and bring back word here. (_Exit._
SIM. Now I do entreat you, Davus, since you by yourself have brought
about this marriage for me----
DAV. I myself, indeed![69]
SIM. Do your best still to reform my son.
DAV. Troth, I’ll do it with all due care.
SIM. Do it now, while his mind is agitated.
DAV. You may be at ease.
SIM. Come then; where is he just now?
DAV. A wonder if he isn’t at home.
SIM. I’ll go to him; and what I’ve been telling you, I’ll tell him as
well. (_Goes into his house._)
SCENE VII.
_DAVUS alone._
DAV. (_to himself._) I’m a lost man! What reason is there why I
shouldn’t take my departure straightway hence for the mill? There’s no
room left for supplicating; I’ve upset every thing now; I’ve deceived
my master; I’ve plunged my master’s son into a marriage; I’ve been the
cause of its taking place this very day, without his hoping for it,
and against the wish of Pamphilus. Here’s cleverness {for you}! But,
if I had kept myself quiet, no mischief would have happened.
(_Starting._) But see, I espy him; I’m utterly undone! Would that
there were some spot here for me, from which I might this instant
pitch myself headlong! (_Stands apart._)
SCENE VIII.
_Enter PAMPHILUS in haste from SIMO’S house._
PAM. Where is he? The villain, who this day-- I’m ruined; and I
confess that this has justly befallen me, for being such a dolt, so
devoid of sense; that I should have intrusted my fortunes to a
frivolous slave![70] I am suffering the reward of my folly; still he
shall never get off from me unpunished for this.
DAV. (_apart._) I’m quite sure that I shall be safe in future, if for
the present I get clear of this mishap.
PAM. But what now am I to say to my father? Am I to deny that I am
ready, who have just promised to marry? With what effrontery could I
presume {to do} that? I know not what to do with myself.
DAV. (_apart._) Nor I with myself, and {yet} I’m giving all due
attention to it. I’ll tell him that I will devise something, in order
that I may procure some respite in this dilemma.
PAM. (_Catching sight of him._) Oho!
DAV. (_apart._) I’m seen.
PAM. (_sneeringly._) How now, good sir, what are you about? Do you see
how dreadfully I am hampered by your devices?
DAV. Still, I’ll soon extricate you.
PAM. You, extricate {me}?
DAV. Assuredly, Pamphilus.
PAM. As you {have} just {done}, I suppose.
DAV. Why no, better, I trust.
PAM. What, am I to believe you, you scoundrel?[71] You, indeed, make
good a matter that’s all embarrassment and ruin! Just see, in whom
I’ve been placing reliance-- you who this day from a most happy state
have been and plunged me into a marriage. Didn’t I say that this would
be the case?
DAV. You did say {so}.
PAM. What do you deserve?[72]
DAV. The cross.[73] But allow me a little time to recover myself; I’ll
soon hit upon something.
PAM. Ah me! not to have the leisure to inflict punishment upon you as
I desire! for the present conjuncture warns me to take precautions for
myself, not to be taking vengeance on you. (_Exeunt._
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
_Enter CHARINUS, wringing his hands._
CHAR. (_to himself._) Is this to be believed or spoken of; that malice
so great could be inborn in any one as to exult at misfortunes, and to
derive advantage from the distresses of another! Oh, is this true?
Assuredly, that is the most dangerous class of men, in whom there is
only a slight degree of hesitation at refusing; afterward, when the
time arrives for fulfilling their promises, then, obliged, of
necessity they discover themselves. They are afraid, and yet the
circumstances[74] compel them to refuse. Then, in that case, their
very insolent remark is, “Who are you? What are you to me? What
{should I give up} to you what’s my own? Look you, I am the most
concerned in my own interests.”[75] But if you inquire where is honor,
they are not ashamed.[76] Here, where there is occasion, they are not
afraid; there, where there is no occasion, they are afraid. But what
am I to do? Ought I not to go to him, and reason with him upon this
outrage, and heap many an invective upon {him}? Yet some one may say,
“you will avail nothing.” Nothing? At least I shall have vexed him,
and have given vent to my own feelings.
SCENE II.
_Enter PAMPHILUS and DAVUS._
PAM. Charinus, unintentionally I have ruined both myself and you,
unless the Gods in some way befriend us.
CHAR. Unintentionally, is it! An excuse has been discovered at last.
You have broken your word.
PAM. How so, pray?
CHAR. Do you expect to deceive me a second time by these speeches?
PAM. What does this mean?
CHAR. Since I told you that I loved her, she has become quite pleasing
to you. Ah wretched me! to have judged of your disposition from my
own.
PAM. You are mistaken.
CHAR. Did this pleasure appear to you not to be quite complete, unless
you tantalized me in my passion, and lured me on by groundless hopes?
--You may take her.
PAM. I, take her? Alas! you know not in what perplexities, to my
sorrow, I am involved, and what vast anxieties this executioner of
mine (_pointing to DAVUS_) has contrived for me by his devices.
CHAR. What is it so wonderful, if he takes example from yourself?
PAM. You would not say that if you understood either myself or my
affection.
CHAR. I’m quite aware (_ironically_); you have just now had a dispute
with your father, and he is now angry with you in consequence, and has
not been able to-day to prevail upon you to marry her.
PAM. No, not at all,-- as you are not acquainted with my sorrows,
these nuptials were not in preparation for me; and no one was thinking
at present of giving {me} a wife.
CHAR. I am aware; you have been influenced by your own inclination.
PAM. Hold; you do not yet know {all}.
CHAR. For my part, I certainly do know that you are about to marry
her.
PAM. Why are you torturing me to death? Listen to this. He (_pointing
to DAVUS_) never ceased to urge me to tell my father that I would
marry her; to advise and persuade me, even until he compelled me.
CHAR. Who was this person?
PAM. Davus.
CHAR. Davus! For what reason?
PAM. I don’t know; except that I must have been under the displeasure
of the Gods, for me to have listened to him.
CHAR. Is this the fact, Davus?
DAV. It is the fact.
CHAR. (_starting._) Ha! What do you say, {you} villain? Then may the
Gods send you an end worthy of your deeds. Come now, tell me, if all
his enemies had wished him to be plunged into a marriage, what advice
but this could they have given?
DAV. I have been deceived, but I don’t despair.
CHAR. (_ironically._) I’m sure of that.
DAV. This way it has not succeeded; we’ll try another. Unless,
perhaps, you think that because it failed at first, this misfortune
can not now possibly be changed for better luck.
PAM. Certainly not; for I quite believe that if you set about it, you
will be making two marriages for me out of one.
DAV. I owe you this, Pamphilus, in respect of my servitude, to strive
with hands {and} feet, night and day; to submit to hazard of my life,
to serve you. It is your part, if any thing has fallen out contrary to
expectation, to forgive me. What I was contriving has not succeeded;
still, I am using all endeavors; or, do you yourself devise something
better, {and} dismiss me.
PAM. I wish to; restore me to the position in which you found me.
DAV. I’ll do {so}.
PAM. But it must be done directly.
DAV. But the door of Glycerium’s house here makes a noise.[77]
PAM. {That’s} nothing to you.
DAV. (_assuming an attitude of meditation._) I’m in search of--
PAM. (_ironically._) Dear me, what, now at last?
DAV. Presently I’ll give you what I’ve hit upon.
SCENE III.
_Enter MYSIS from the house of GLYCERIUM._
MYS. (_calling at the door to GLYCERIUM within._) Now, wherever he is,
I’ll take care that your own Pamphilus shall be found for you, and
brought to you by me; do you only, my life, cease to vex yourself.
PAM. Mysis.
MYS. (_turning round._) Who is it? Why, Pamphilus, you do present
yourself opportunely to me. My mistress charged me to beg of you, if
you love her, to come to her directly; she says she wishes to see you.
PAM. (_aside._) Alas! I am undone; this dilemma grows apace! (_To
DAVUS._) For me and her, unfortunate persons, now to be tortured this
way through your means; for I am sent for, because she has discovered
that my marriage is in preparation.
CHAR. From which, indeed, how easily a respite could have been
obtained, if he (_pointing to DAVUS_) had kept himself quiet.
DAV. (_ironically to CHARINUS._) Do proceed; if he isn’t sufficiently
angry of his own accord, do you irritate him.
MYS. (_to PAMPHILUS._) Aye faith, that is the case; and for that
reason, poor thing, she is now in distress.
PAM. Mysis, I swear by all the Gods that I will never forsake her; not
if I were to know that all men would be my enemies in consequence. Her
have I chosen for mine; she has fallen to my lot; our feelings are
congenial; farewell they, who wish for a separation between us;
nothing but Death separates her from me.
MYS. I begin to revive.
PAM. Not the responses of Apollo are more true than this. If it can
possibly be contrived that my father may not believe that this
marriage has been broken off through me, I could wish it. But if that
can not be, I will do that which is easily effected, for him to
believe that through me it has been caused. What do you think of me?
CHAR. That you are as unhappy as myself.
DAV. (_placing his finger on his forehead._) I’m contriving an
expedient.
CHAR. You are a clever hand; if you do set about any thing.
DAV. Assuredly, I’ll manage this for you.
PAM. There’s need of it now.
DAV. But I’ve got it now.
CHAR. What is it?
DAV. For him (_pointing to PAMPHILUS_) I’ve got it, not for you, don’t
mistake.
CHAR. I’m {quite} satisfied.
PAM. What will you do? Tell me.
DAV. I’m afraid that this day won’t be long enough for me to execute
it, so don’t suppose that I’ve now got leisure for relating it; do you
betake yourself off at once, for you are a hinderance to me.
PAM. I’ll go and see her. (_Goes into the house of GLYCERIUM._)
DAV. (_to CHARINUS._) What {are} you {going to do}? Whither are you
going from here?
CHAR. Do you wish me to tell you the truth?
DAV. No, not at all; (_aside_) he’s making the beginning of a {long}
story for me.
CHAR. What will become of me?
DAV. Come now, you unreasonable person, are you not satisfied that I
give you a little respite, by putting off his marriage?
CHAR. But yet, Davus--
DAV. What then?
CHAR. That I may marry her--
DAV. Absurd.
CHAR. Be sure to come hither (_pointing in the direction of his
house_) to my house, if you can {effect} any thing.
DAV. Why should I come? I can do nothing {for you}.
CHAR. But still, if any thing--
DAV. Well, well, I’ll come.
CHAR. If you can; I shall be at home. (_Exit._
SCENE IV.
_MYSIS and DAVUS._
DAV. Do you, Mysis, remain here a little while, until I come out.
MYS. For what reason?
DAV. There’s a necessity for so doing.
MYS. Make haste.
DAV. I’ll be here this moment, I tell you. (_He goes into the house of
GLYCERIUM._)
SCENE V.
_MYSIS alone._
MYS. (_to herself._) That nothing can be secure to any one! Ye Gods,
by our trust in you! I used to make sure that this Pamphilus was a
supreme blessing for my mistress; a friend, a protector, a husband
secured under every circumstance; yet what anguish is she, poor thing,
now suffering through him? Clearly there’s more trouble {for her} now
than {there was} happiness formerly. But Davus is coming out.
SCENE VI.
_Enter DAVUS from the house of GLYCERIUM with the child._
MYS. My {good} sir, prithee, what is that? Whither are you carrying
the child?
DAV. Mysis, I now stand in need of your cunning being brought into
play in this matter, and of your address.
MYS. Why, what are you going to do?
DAV. (_holding out the child._) Take it from me directly, and lay it
down before our door.
MYS. Prithee, on the ground?
DAV. (_pointing._) Take some sacred herbs[78] from the altar here,[79]
and strew them under it.
MYS. Why don’t you do it yourself?
DAV. That if perchance I should have to swear to my master that I did
not place it there, I may be enabled to do so with a clear conscience.
MYS. I understand; have these new scruples only just now occurred to
you, pray?
DAV. Bestir yourself quickly, that you may learn what I’m going to do
next. (_MYSIS lays the child at SIMO’S door._) Oh Jupiter!
MYS. (_starting up._) What’s the matter?
DAV. The father of the {intended} bride is coming in the middle of it
{all}. The plan which I had first purposed I {now} give up.[80]
MYS. I don’t understand what you are talking about.
DAV. I’ll pretend too that I’ve come in this direction from the right.
Do you take care to help out the conversation by your words, whenever
there’s necessity.[81]
MYS. I don’t at all comprehend what you are about; but if there’s any
thing in which you have need of my assistance, as you understand the
best, I’ll stay, that I mayn’t in any way impede your success. (_DAVUS
retires out of sight._)
SCENE VII.
_Enter CHREMES on the other side of the stage, going toward the
house of SIMO._
CHREM. (_to himself._) After having provided the things necessary for
my daughter’s nuptials, I’m returning, that I may request her to be
sent for. (_Seeing the child._) But what’s this? I’faith, it’s a
child. (_Addressing MYSIS._) Woman, have you laid that here (_pointing
to the child_)?
MYS. (_aside, looking out for DAVUS._) Where is he?
CHREM. Don’t you answer me?
MYS. (_looking about, to herself._) He isn’t any where to be seen. Woe
to wretched me! the fellow has left me and is off.
DAV. (_coming forward and pretending not to see them._) Ye Gods, by
our trust in you! what a crowd there is in the Forum! What a lot of
people are squabbling there! (_Aloud._) Then provisions are {so} dear.
(_Aside._) What to say besides, I don’t know. (_CHREMES passes by
MYSIS, and goes to a distance at the back of the stage._)
MYS. Pray, why did you leave me here alone?
DAV. (_pretending to start on seeing the child._) Ha! what story is
this? How now, Mysis, whence comes this child? Who has brought it
here?
MYS. Are you quite right in your senses, to be asking me that?
DAV. Whom, then, ought I to ask, as I don’t see any one else here?
CHREM. (_apart to himself._) I wonder whence it has come.
DAV. Are you going to tell me what I ask?
MYS. Pshaw!
DAV. (_in a whisper._) Step aside to the right. (_They retire on one
side._)
MYS. You are out of your senses; didn’t you your own self?
DAV. (_in a low voice._) Take you care not to utter a single word
beyond what I ask you. Why don’t you say aloud whence it comes?
MYS. (_in a loud voice._) From our house.
DAV. (_affecting indignation._) Heyday, indeed! it really is a wonder
if a woman, who is a courtesan, acts impudently.
CHREM. (_apart._) So far as I can learn, this woman belongs to the
Andrian.
DAV. Do we seem to you such very suitable persons for you to be
playing tricks with us in this way?
CHREM. (_apart._) I came {just} in time.
DAV. Make haste then, and take the child away from the door here: (_in
a low voice_) stay {there}; take care you don’t stir from that spot.
MYS. (_aside._) May the Gods confound you! you do so terrify poor me.
DAV. (_in a loud voice._) Is it to you I speak or not?
MYS. What is it you want?
DAV. (_aloud._) What-- do you ask me again? Tell me, whose child have
you been laying here? Let me know.
MYS. Don’t you know?
DAV. (_in a low voice._) Have done with what I know; tell me what I
ask.
MYS. (_aloud._) It belongs to your people.
DAV. (_aloud._) Which of our people?
MYS. (_aloud._) To Pamphilus.
DAV. (_affecting surprise in a loud tone._) How? What-- to Pamphilus?
MYS. (_aloud._) How now-- is it not so?
CHREM. (_apart._) With {good} reason have I {always} been averse to
this match, it’s clear.
DAV. (_calling aloud._) O abominable piece of effrontery!
MYS. Why are you bawling out so?
DAV. (_aloud._) What, the very one I saw being carried to your house
yesterday evening?
MYS. O {you} impudent fellow!
DAV. (_aloud._) It’s the truth. I saw Canthara stuffed out beneath her
clothes.[82]
MYS. I’faith, I thank the Gods that several free women were
present[83] at the delivery.
DAV. (_aloud._) Assuredly she doesn’t know him, on whose account she
resorts to these schemes. Chremes, {she fancies}, if he sees the child
laid before the door, will not give his daughter; i’faith, he’ll give
her all the sooner.
CHREM. (_apart._) I’faith, he’ll not do so.
DAV. (_aloud._) Now therefore, that you may be quite aware, if you
don’t take up the child, I’ll roll it forthwith into the middle of the
road; and yourself in the same place I’ll roll over into the mud.
MYS. Upon my word, man, you are not sober.
DAV. (_aloud._) One scheme brings on another. I now hear it whispered
about that she is a citizen of Attica--
CHREM. (_apart._) Ha!
DAV. (_aloud._) And that, constrained by the laws,[84] he will have to
take her as his wife.
MYS. Well now, pray, is she not a citizen?
CHREM. (_apart._) I had almost fallen unawares into a comical
misfortune. (_Comes forward._)
DAV. Who’s that, speaking? (_Pretending to look about._) O Chremes,
you have come in good time. Do listen to this.
CHREM. I have heard it all already.
DAV. Prithee, did you hear it? Here’s villainy for you! she (_pointing
at MYSIS_) ought to be carried off[85] hence to the torture forthwith.
(_To MYSIS, pointing at CHREMES._) This is Chremes himself; don’t
suppose that you are trifling with Davus {only}.
MYS. Wretched me! upon my faith I have told no untruth, my {worthy}
old gentleman.
CHREM. I know the whole affair. Is Simo within?
DAV. He is. (_CHREMES goes into SIMO’S house._)
SCENE VIII.
_DAVUS and MYSIS._
MYS. (_DAVUS attempting to caress her._) Don’t touch me, villain.
(_Moving away._) On my word, if I don’t {tell} Glycerium all this....
DAV. How now, simpleton, don’t you know what has been done?
MYS. How should I know?
DAV. This is the bride’s father. It couldn’t any other way have been
managed that he should know the things that we wanted him to know.
MYS. You should have told me that before.
DAV. Do you suppose that it makes little difference whether you do
things according to impulse, as nature prompts, or from premeditation?
SCENE IX.
_Enter CRITO, looking about him._
CRITO (_to himself._) It was said that Chrysis used to live in this
street, who preferred to gain wealth here dishonorably to living
honestly {as} a poor woman in her own country: by her death that
property has descended to me by law.[86] But I see some persons of
whom to make inquiry. (_Accosting them._) Good-morrow to you.
MYS. Prithee, whom do I see? Isn’t this Crito, the kinsman of Chrysis?
It is he.
CRI. O Mysis, greetings to you.
MYS. Welcome to you, Crito.
CRI. Is Chrysis then----?[87] Alas!
MYS. Too truly. She has indeed left us poor creatures quite
heart-broken.
CRI. How {fare} you here, {and} in what fashion? Pretty well?
MYS. What, we? Just as we can, {as} they say; since we can’t as we
would.
CRI. How {is} Glycerium? Has she discovered her parents yet?
MYS. I wish {she had}.
CRI. What, not yet? With no favorable omen did I set out for this
place; for, upon my faith, if I had known that, I never would have
moved a foot hither. She was always said to be, and was looked upon as
her sister; what things were hers she is in possession of; now for me
to begin a suit at law here, the precedents of others warn me,
a stranger,[88] how easy and profitable a task it would be for me. At
the same time, I suppose that by this she has got some friend and
protector; for she was pretty nearly a grown-up girl when she left
there. They would cry out that I am a sharper; that, a pauper, I’m
hunting after an inheritance; besides, I shouldn’t like to strip {the
girl} herself.
MYS. O most worthy stranger! I’faith, Crito, you still adhere to your
good old-fashioned ways.
CRI. Lead me to her, since I have come hither, that I may see her.
MYS. By all means. (_They go into the house of GLYCERIUM._)
DAV. (_to himself._) I’ll follow them; I don’t wish the old man to see
me at this moment. (_He follows MYSIS and CRITO._)
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.
_Enter CHREMES and SIMO from the house of SIMO._
CHREM. Enough already, enough, Simo, has my friendship toward you been
proved. Sufficient hazard have I begun to encounter; make an end of
your entreaties, then. While I’ve been endeavoring to oblige you, I’ve
almost fooled away my daughter’s prospects in life.
SIM. Nay but, now in especial, Chremes, I do beg and entreat of you,
that the favor, commenced a short time since in words, you’ll now
complete by deeds.
CHREM. See how unreasonable you are from your {very} earnestness; so
long as you effect what you desire, you neither think of limits to
compliance, nor what {it is} you request of me; for if you did think,
you would now forbear to trouble me with unreasonable requests.
SIM. What unreasonable {requests}?
CHREM. Do you ask? You importuned me to promise my daughter to a young
man engaged in another attachment, averse to the marriage state, to
plunge her into discord and a marriage of uncertain duration; that
through her sorrow and her anguish I might reclaim your son. You
prevailed; while the case admitted of it I made preparations. Now it
does not admit of it; you must put up with it; they say that she is a
citizen of this place; a child has been born; do cease to trouble us.
SIM. By the Gods, I do conjure you not to bring your mind to believe
those whose especial interest it is that he should be as degraded as
possible. On account of the marriage, have all these things been
feigned and contrived. When the reason for which they do these things
is removed from them, they will desist.
CHREM. You are mistaken: I myself saw the servant-maid wrangling with
Davus.
SIM. (_sneeringly._) I am aware.
CHREM. With an appearance of earnestness, when neither at the moment
perceived that I was present there.
SIM. I believe it; and Davus a short time since forewarned me that
this would be the case; and I don’t know how I forgot to tell it you
to-day, as I had intended.
SCENE II.
_Enter DAVUS from the house of GLYCERIUM._
DAV. (_aloud at the door, not seeing SIMO and CHREMES._) Now then,
I bid you set your minds at ease.
CHREM. (_to SIMO._) See you, there’s Davus.
SIM. From what house is he coming out?
DAV. (_to himself._) Through my means, and that of the stranger----
SIM. (_overhearing._) What mischief is this?
DAV. (_to himself._) I never did see a more opportune person,
encounter, {or} occasion.
SIM. The rascal! I wonder who it is he’s praising?
DAV. All the affair is now in a safe position.
SIM. Why do I delay to accost him?
DAV. (_to himself, catching sight of SIMO._) It’s my master; What am I
to do?
SIM. (_accosting him._) O, save you, good sir!
DAV. (_affecting surprise._) Hah! Simo! O, Chremes, my {dear sir}, all
things are now quite ready in-doors.
SIM. (_ironically._) You have taken such very good care.
DAV. Send for the bride when you like.
SIM. Very good: (_ironically_) of course, that’s the {only} thing
that’s now wanting here. But do you answer me this, what business had
you there? (_Pointing to the house of GLYCERIUM._)
DAV. What, I?
SIM. Just so.
DAV. I?
SIM. Yes, you.
DAV. I went in just now.
SIM. As if I asked how long ago!
DAV. Together with your son.
SIM. What, is Phamphilus in there? (_Aside._) To my confusion, I’m on
the rack (_To DAVUS._) How now? Didn’t you say that there was enmity
between them, {you} scoundrel?
DAV. There is.
SIM. Why is he there, then?
CHREM. Why do you suppose he {is}? (_Ironically._) Quarreling with
her, {of course}.
DAV. Nay but, Chremes, I’ll let you now hear from me a disgraceful
piece of business. An old man, I don’t know who he is, has just now
come here; look you, he is a confident {and} shrewd person; when you
look at his appearance, he seems to be a person of some consequence.
There is a grave sternness in his features, and something commanding
in his words.
SIM. What {news} are you bringing, I wonder?
DAV. Why nothing but what I heard him mention.
SIM. What does he say then?
DAV. That he knows Glycerium to be a citizen of Attica.
SIM. (_going to his door._) Ho there! Dromo, Dromo!
SCENE III.
_Enter DROMO hastily from the house._
DRO. What is it?
SIM. Dromo!
DAV. Hear me.
SIM. If you add a word-- Dromo!
DAV. Hear me, pray.
DRO. (_to SIMO._) What do you want?
SIM. (_pointing to DAVUS._) Carry him off on your shoulders in-doors
as fast as possible.
DRO. Whom?
SIM. Davus.
DAV. For what reason?
SIM. Because I choose. (_To DROMO._) Carry him off, I say.
DAV. What have I done?
SIM. Carry him off.
DAV. If you find that I have told a lie in any one matter, {then} kill
me.
SIM. I’ll hear nothing. I’ll soon have you set in motion.[89]
DAV. {What?} Although this is the truth.
SIM. In spite of it. (_To DROMO._) Take care he’s kept well secured;
and, do you hear? Tie him up hands and feet together.[90] Now then, be
off; upon my faith this very day, if I live, I’ll teach you what
hazard there is in deceiving a master, and him {in deceiving} a
father. (_DROMO leads DAVUS into the house._)
CHREM. Oh, don’t be so extremely vexed.
SIM. O Chremes, the dutifulness of a son! Do you not pity me? That I
should endure so much trouble for such a son! (_Goes to the door of
GLYCERIUM’S house._) Come, Pamphilus, come out, Pamphilus! have you
any shame left?
SCENE IV.
_Enter PAMPHILUS in haste from GLYCERIUM’S house._
PAM. Who is it that wants me? (_Aside._) I’m undone! it’s my father.
SIM. What say you, of all men, the--?
CHREM. Oh! rather speak about the matter itself, and forbear to use
harsh language.
SIM. As if any thing too severe could now be possibly said against
him. Pray, do you say that Glycerium is a citizen--
PAM. So they say.
SIM. So they say! Unparalleled assurance! does he consider what he
says? Is he sorry for what he has done? Does his countenance, pray, at
all betray any marks of shame? That he should be of mind so weak, as,
without regard to the custom and the law[91] of his fellow-citizens,
and the wish of his own father, to be anxious, in spite of every
thing, to have her, to his own utter disgrace!
PAM. Miserable that I am!
SIM. Ha! have you at last found that out only just now, Pamphilus?
Long since {did} that expression, long since, when you made up your
mind, that what you desired must be effected by you at any price; from
that very day did that {expression} aptly befit you. But yet why do I
torment myself? Why vex myself? Why worry my old age with this
madness? Am I to suffer the punishment for his offenses? Nay then, let
him have her, good-by to him, let him pass his life with her.
PAM. My father----
SIM. How, “my father?” As if you stood in any need of this father.
Home, wife, {and} children, provided {by you} against the will of your
father! People suborned, {too,} to say that she is a citizen of this
place! You have gained your point.
PAM. Father, may I {say} a few words?
SIM. What can you say to me?
CHREM. But, Simo, do hear him.
SIM. I, hear him? Why should I hear him, Chremes?
CHREM. Still, however, do allow him to speak.
SIM. Well then, let him speak: I allow him.
PAM. I own that I love her; if that is committing a fault, I own that
also. To you, father, do I subject myself. Impose on me any injunction
you please; command me. Do you wish me to take a wife? Do you wish me
to give her up? As well as I can, I will endure it. This only I
request of you, not to think that this old gentleman has been suborned
by me. Allow me to clear myself, and to bring him here before you.
SIM. To bring him here?
PAM. Do allow me, father.
CHREM. He asks what’s reasonable; do give him leave.
PAM. Allow me to obtain thus much of you.
SIM. I allow it. I desire any thing, so long as I find, Chremes, that
I have not been deceived by him. (_PAMPHILUS goes into the house of
GLYCERIUM._)
CHREM. For a great offense, a slight punishment ought to satisfy a
father.
SCENE V.
_Re-enter PAMPHILUS with CRITO._
CRI. (_to PAMPHILUS, as he is coming out._) Forbear entreating. Of
these, any one reason prompts me to do it, either your own sake, or
the fact that it is the truth, or that I wish well for Glycerium
herself.
CHREM. (_starting._) Do I see Crito of Andros? Surely it is he.
CRI. Greetings to you, Chremes.
CHREM. How is it that, so contrary to your usage, you are at Athens?
CRI. {So} it has happened. But is this Simo?
CHREM. {It is} he.
CRI. Simo, were you asking for me?
SIM. How now, do you say that Glycerium is a citizen of this place?
CRI. Do you deny it?
SIM. (_ironically._) Have you come here so well prepared?
CRI. For what purpose?
SIM. Do you ask? Are you to be acting this way with impunity? Are you
to be luring young men into snares here, inexperienced in affairs, and
liberally brought up, by tempting them, and to be playing upon their
fancies by making promises?
CRI. Are you in your senses?
SIM. And are you to be patching up amours with Courtesans by marriage?
PAM. (_aside._) I’m undone! I fear that the stranger will not put up
with this.
CHREM. If, Simo, you knew this person well, you would not think thus;
he is a worthy man.
SIM. He, a worthy man! To come so opportunely to-day {just} at the
very nuptials, {and yet} never to have come before? (_Ironically._) Of
course, we must believe him, Chremes.
PAM. (_aside._) If I didn’t dread my father, I have something, which,
in this conjuncture, I could opportunely suggest to him.[92]
SIM. (_sneeringly, to CHREMES._) A sharper![93]
CRI. (_starting._) Hah!
CHREM. It is his way, Crito; do excuse it.
CRI. Let him take heed how he behaves. If he persists in saying to me
what he likes, he’ll be hearing things that he don’t like. Am I
meddling with these matters or interesting myself? Can you not endure
your troubles with a patient mind? For as to what I say, whether it is
true or false what I have heard, can soon be known. A certain man of
Attica, a long time ago,[94] his ship being wrecked, was cast ashore
at Andros, and this woman together with him, who was {then} a little
girl; he, in his destitution, by chance first made application to the
father of Chrysis--
SIM. (_ironically._) He’s beginning his tale.
CHREM. Let him alone.
CRI. Really, is he to be interrupting me in this way?
CHREM. Do you proceed.
CRI. He who received him was a relation of mine. There I heard from
him that he was a native of Attica. He died there.
CHREM. His name?
CRI. The name, in such a hurry!
PAM. Phania.
CHREM. (_starting._) Hah! I shall die!
CRI. I’faith, I really think it was Phania; this I know for certain,
he said that he was a citizen of Rhamnus.[95]
CHREM. O Jupiter!
CRI. Many other persons in Andros have heard the same, Chremes.
CHREM. (_aside._) I trust it may turn out as I hope. (_To CRITO._)
Come now, tell me, what {did} he then {say} about her? Did he say she
was his own {daughter}?
CRI. No.
CHREM. Whose then?
CRI. His brother’s daughter.
CHREM. She certainly is mine.
CRI. What do you say?
SIM. What is this that you say?
PAM. (_aside._) Prick up your ears, Pamphilus.
SIM. Why do you suppose {so}?
CHREM. That Phania was my brother.
SIM. I knew him, and I am aware of it.
CHREM. He, flying from the wars, and following me to Asia, set out
from here. At the same time he was afraid to leave her here behind;
since then, this is the first time I have heard what became of him.
PAM. (_aside._) I am scarcely myself, so much has my mind been
agitated by fear, hope, joy, {and} surprise at this so great, so
unexpected blessing.
SIM. Really, I am glad for many reasons that she has been discovered
to be a citizen.
PAM. I believe it, father.
CHREM. But there yet remains one difficulty[96] with me, which keeps
me in suspense.
PAM. (_aside._) You deserve to be ----, with your scruples, {you}
plague. You are seeking a knot in a bulrush.[97]
CRI. (_to CHREMES._) What is that?
CHREM. The names don’t agree.
CRI. Troth, she had another when little.
CHREM. What {was it}, Crito? Can you remember it?
CRI. I’m trying to recollect it.
PAM. (_aside._) Am I to suffer his memory to stand in the way of my
happiness, when I myself can provide my own remedy in this matter?
I will not suffer it. (_Aloud._) Hark you, Chremes, that which you are
trying to recollect {is} “Pasibula.”
CHREM. The very same.
CRI. That’s it.
PAM. I’ve heard it from herself a thousand times.
SIM. I suppose, Chremes, that you believe that we all rejoice at this
discovery.
CHREM. So may the Gods bless me, I do believe it.
PAM. What remains {to be done}, father?
SIM. The event itself has quite brought me to reconcilement.
PAM. O kind father! With regard to her as a wife, since I have taken
possession of her, Chremes will not offer any opposition.
CHREM. The plea is a very good one, unless perchance your father says
any thing to the contrary.
PAM. Of course, I agree.
SIM. {Then} be it so.[98]
CHREM. Her portion, Pamphilus, is ten talents.
PAM. I am satisfied.
CHREM. I’ll hasten to my daughter. Come now, (_beckoning_) along with
me, Crito; for I suppose that she will not know me. (_They go into
GLYCERIUM’S house._)
SIM. (_To PAMPHILUS._) Why don’t you order her to be sent for hither,
{to our house}?
PAM. Well thought of; I’ll at once give charge of that to Davus.
SIM. He can’t {do it}.
PAM. How so?
SIM. Because he has another matter that more nearly concerns himself,
and of more importance.
PAM. What, pray?
SIM. He is bound.
PAM. Father, he is not rightly bound.[99]
SIM. But I ordered to that effect.
PAM. Prithee, do order him to be set at liberty.
SIM. Well, be it so.
PAM. But immediately.
SIM. I’m going in.
PAM. O fortunate and happy day! (_SIMO goes into his house._)
SCENE VI.
_Enter CHARINUS, at a distance._
CHAR. (_apart to himself._) I’m come to see what Pamphilus is about;
and look, here he is.
PAM. (_to himself._) Some one perhaps might imagine that I don’t
believe this to be true; but now it is clear to me that it really is
true. I do think that the life of the Gods is everlasting, for this
reason, because their joys are their own.[100] For immortality has
been obtained by me, if no sorrow interrupts this delight. But whom in
particular could I wish to be now thrown in my way, for me to relate
these things to?
CHAR. (_apart to himself._) What means this rapture?
PAM. (_to himself._) I see Davus. There is no one in the world whom I
would choose in preference; for I am sure that he of all people will
sincerely rejoice in my happiness.
SCENE VII.
_Enter DAVUS._
DAV. (_to himself._) Where is Pamphilus, I wonder?
PAM. Here he is, Davus.
DAV. (_turning round._) Who’s that?
PAM. ’Tis I, Pamphilus; you don’t know what has happened to me.
DAV. No really; but I know what has happened to myself.
PAM. And I too.
DAV. It has fallen out just like human affairs in general, that you
should know the mishap I have met with, before I the good that has
befallen you.
PAM. My Glycerium has discovered her parents.
DAV. O, well done!
CHAR. (_apart, in surprise._) Hah!
PAM. Her father is an intimate friend of ours.
DAV. Who?
PAM. Chremes.
DAV. You do tell good news.
PAM. And there’s no hinderance to my marrying her at once.
CHAR. (_apart._) Is he dreaming the same that he has been wishing for
when awake?
PAM. Then about the child, Davus.
DAV. O, say no more; you are the only person whom the Gods favor.
CHAR. (_apart._) I’m all right if these things are true. I’ll accost
them. (_Comes forward._)
PAM. Who is this? {Why,} Charinus, you meet me at the very nick of
time.
CHAR. That’s all right.
PAM. Have you heard--?
CHAR. Every thing; come, in your good fortune do have some regard for
me. Chremes is now at your command; I’m sure that he’ll do every thing
you wish.
PAM. I’ll remember you; and because it is tedious for us to wait for
him until he comes out, follow me this way; he is now in-doors at the
house of Glycerium; do you, Davus, go home; send with all haste to
remove her thence. Why are you standing {there}? Why are you delaying?
DAV. I’m going. (_PAMPHILUS and CHARINUS go into the house of
GLYCERIUM. DAVUS then comes forward and addresses the Audience._)
Don’t you wait until they come out from there; she will be betrothed
within: if there is any thing else that remains, it will be transacted
in-doors. Grant us your applause.[101]
FOOTNOTES
[Footnote 1: From σιμὸς, “flat-nosed.”]
[Footnote 2: From πᾶν, “all,” and φιλὸς, “a friend.”]
[Footnote 3: From σώζω, “to save;” saved in war.]
[Footnote 4: From χρέμπτομαι, “to spit.”]
[Footnote 5: From ξάρις, “grace.”]
[Footnote 6: From κριτής, “a judge.”]
[Footnote 7: From Dacia, his native country; the Davi and Daci
being the same people.]
[Footnote 8: From δρόμος, “a race.”]
[Footnote 9: From πυῤῥὸς, “red-haired.”]
[Footnote 10: From γλυκερὸς, “sweet.”]
[Footnote 11: From Mysia, her native country.]
[Footnote 12: From Lesbos, her native country.]
[Footnote 13: _The Megalensian Games_)--These games were
instituted at Rome in honor of the Goddess Cybele, when her statue
was brought thither from Pessinum, in Asia Minor, by Scipio
Nasica; they were so called from the Greek title Μεγάλη Μήτηρ,
“the Great Mother.” They were called Megalesia or Megalensia,
indifferently. A very interesting account of the origin of these
games will be found in the Fasti of Ovid. B. iv. l. 194, et seq.]
[Footnote 14: _Being Curule Ædiles_)--Among the other offices of
the Ædiles at Rome, it was their duty to preside at the public
games, and to provide the necessary dramatic representations for
the Theatre, by making contracts with the Poets and Actors.]
[Footnote 15: _Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius
Prænestinus_)--These persons were the heads or managers of the
company of actors who performed the Play, and as such it was their
province to make the necessary contracts with the Curule Ædiles.
They were also actors themselves, and usually took the leading
characters. Ambivius Turpio seems to have been a favorite with the
Roman public, and to have performed for many years; of L. Atilius
Prænestinus nothing is known.]
[Footnote 16: _Freedman of Claudius_)--According to some, the
words, “Flaccus Claudi” mean “the son of Claudius.” It is,
however, more generally thought that it is thereby meant that he
was the freedman or liberated slave of some Roman noble of the
family of the Claudii.]
[Footnote 17: _Treble flutes and bass flutes_)--The history of
ancient music, and especially that relative to the “tibiæ,”
“pipes” or “flutes,” is replete with obscurity. It is not agreed
what are the meanings of the respective terms, but in the present
Translation the following theory has been adopted: The words
“dextræ” and “sinistræ” denote the kind of flute, the former being
{treble}, the latter {bass} flutes, or, as they were sometimes
called, “incentivæ” or “succentivæ;” though it has been thought by
some that they were so called because the former held with the
right hand, the latter with the left. When two treble flutes or
two bass flutes were played upon at the same time, they were
called “tibiæ pares;” but when one was “dextra” and the other
“sinistra,” “tibiæ impares.” Hence the words “paribus dextris et
sinistris,” would mean alternately with treble flutes and bass
flutes. Two “tibiæ” were often played upon by one performer at the
same time. For a specimen of a Roman “tibicen” or “piper,” see the
last scene of the Stichus of Plautus. Some curious information
relative to the pipers of Rome and the legislative enactments
respecting them will be found in the Fasti of Ovid, B. vi. l. 653,
et seq.]
[Footnote 18: _It is entirety Grecian_)--This means that the scene
is in Greece, and that it is of the kind called “palliata,” as
representing the manners of the Greeks, who wore the “pallium,” or
outer cloak; whereas the Romans wore the “toga.” In the Prologue,
Terence states that he borrowed it from the Greek of Menander.]
[Footnote 19: _Being Consuls_)--M. Claudius Marcellus and C.
Sulpicius Galba were Consuls in the year from the building of Rome
586, and B.C. 167.]
[Footnote 20: _A malevolent old Poet_)--Ver. 7. He alludes to
Luscus Lanuvinus, or Lavinius, a Comic Poet of his time, but
considerably his senior. He is mentioned by Terence in all his
Prologues except that to the Hecyra, and seems to have made it the
business of his life to run down his productions and discover
faults in them.]
[Footnote 21: _Composed the Andrian_)--Ver. 9. This Play, like
that of our author, took its name from the Isle of Andros, one of
the Cyclades in the Ægean Sea, where Glycerium is supposed to have
been born. Donatus, the Commentator on Terence, informs us that
the first Scene of this Play is almost a literal translation from
the Perinthian of Menander, in which the old man was represented
as discoursing with his wife just as Simo does here with Sosia. In
the Andrian of Menander, the old man opened with a soliloquy.]
[Footnote 22: _And the Perinthian_)--Ver. 9. This Play was so
called from Perinthus, a town of Thrace, its heroine being a
native of that place.]
[Footnote 23: _Nævius, Plautus, and Ennius_)--Ver. 18. Ennius was
the oldest of these three Poets. Nævius a contemporary of Plautus.
See a probable allusion to his misfortunes in the Miles Gloriosus
of Plautus, l. 211.]
[Footnote 24: _The mystifying carefulness_)--Ver. 21. By “obscuram
diligentiam” he means that formal degree of precision which is
productive of obscurity.]
[Footnote 25: _Are to be taken care of, I suppose_)--Ver. 30.
“Nempe ut curentur recte hæc.” Colman here remarks; “Madame Dacier
will have it that Simo here makes use of a kitchen term in the
word ‘curentur.’ I believe it rather means ‘to take care of’ any
thing generally; and at the conclusion of this very scene, Sosia
uses the word again, speaking of things very foreign to cookery,
‘Sat est, curabo.’”]
[Footnote 26: _To be my freedman_)--Ver. 37. “Libertus” was the
name given to a slave set at liberty by his master. A “libertinus”
was the son of a “libertus.”]
[Footnote 27: _As it were a censure_)--Ver. 43. Among the Greeks
(whose manners and sentiments are supposed to be depicted in this
Play) it was a maxim that he who did a kindness should forget it,
while he who received it should keep it in memory. Sosia
consequently feels uneasy, and considers the remark of his master
in the light of a reproach.]
[Footnote 28: _After he had passed from youthfulness_)--Ver. 51.
“Ephebus” was the name given to a youth when between the ages of
sixteen and twenty.]
[Footnote 29: _And a master_)--Ver. 54. See the Notes to the
Translation of the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 109, where Lydus,
a slave, appears as the “pædagogus,” or “magister,” of
Pistoclerus.]
[Footnote 30: _Or to the philosophers_)--Ver. 57. It was the
custom in Greece with all young men of free birth to apply
themselves to the study of philosophy, of course with zeal
proportioned to the love of learning in each. They each adopted
some particular sect, to which they attached themselves. There is
something sarcastic here, and indeed not very respectful to the
“philosophers,” in coupling them as objects of attraction with
horses and hounds.]
[Footnote 31: _Nothing to excess_)--Ver. 61. “Ne quid nimis.” This
was one of the three sentences which were inscribed in golden
letters in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. The two others were
“Know thyself,” and “Misery is the consequence of debt and
discord.” Sosia seems from the short glimpse we have of him to
have been a retailer of old saws and proverbs. He is unfortunately
only a Protatic or introductory character, as we lose sight of him
after this Act.]
[Footnote 32: _Meanwhile, three years ago_)--Ver. 60. The
following remark of Donatus on this passage is quoted by Colman
for its curiosity. “The Author has artfully said three years, when
he might have given a longer or a shorter period; since it is
probable that the woman might have lived modestly one year; set up
the trade the next; and died the third. In the first year,
therefore, Pamphilus knew nothing of the family of Chrysis; in the
second, he became acquainted with Glycerium; and in the third,
Glycerium marries Pamphilus, and finds her parents.”]
[Footnote 33: _He is smitten_)--Ver. 78. “Habet,” literally “He
has it.” This was the expression used by the spectators at the
moment when a Gladiator was wounded by his antagonist. In the
previous line, in the words “captus est,” a figurative allusion is
made to the “retiarius,” a Gladiator who was provided with a net,
with which he endeavored to entangle his opponent.]
[Footnote 34: _Gave his contribution_)--Ver. 88. “Symbolam.” The
“symbolæ,” “shot” at picnic or club entertainments, are more than
once alluded to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.]
[Footnote 35: _Even I myself_)--Ver. 116. Cooke remarks here: “A
complaisant father, to go to the funeral of a courtesan, merely to
oblige his son!”]
[Footnote 36: _The female attendants_)--Ver. 123. “Pedissequæ.”
These “pedissequæ,” or female attendants, are frequently alluded
to in the Plays of Plautus. See the Notes to Bohn’s Translation.]
[Footnote 37: _To the burying-place_)--Ver. 128. “Sepulcrum”
strictly means, the tomb or place for burial, but here the funeral
pile itself. When the bones were afterward buried on the spot
where they were burned, it was called “bustum.”]
[Footnote 38: _Troubles itself about that_)--Ver. 185. He says
this contemptuously, as if it was likely that the public should
take any such great interest in his son as the father would imply
by his remark. By thus saying, he also avoids giving a direct
reply.]
[Footnote 39: _Davus, not Œdipus_)--Ver. 194. Alluding to the
circumstance of Œdipus alone being able to solve the riddle of the
Sphynx.]
[Footnote 40: _To the mill_)--Ver. 199. The “pistrinum,” or
“hand-mill,” for grinding corn, was used as a mode of punishment
for refractory slaves. See the Notes to the Translation of
Plautus.]
[Footnote 41: _Those in their dotage, not those who dote in
love_)--Ver. 218. There is a jingle intended in this line, in the
resemblance between “amentium,” “mad persons,” and “amantium,”
“lovers.”]
[Footnote 42: _They have resolved to rear_)--Ver. 219. This
passage alludes to the custom among the Greeks of laying new-born
children on the ground, upon which the father, or other person who
undertook the care of the child, lifted it from the ground,
“tollebat.” In case no one took charge of the child, it was
exposed, which was very frequently done in the case of female
children. Plato was the first to inveigh against this barbarous
practice. It is frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus.]
[Footnote 43: _Hence to the Forum_)--Ver. 226. Colman has the
following remark: “The Forum is frequently spoken of in the Comic
Authors; and from various passages in which Terence mentions it,
it may be collected that it was a public place, serving the
several purposes of a market, the seat of the courts of justice,
a public walk, and an exchange.”]
[Footnote 44: _Wine-bibbing_)--Ver. 229. The nurses and midwives
of antiquity seem to have been famed for their tippling
propensities. In some of the Plays of Plautus we do not find them
spared.]
[Footnote 45: _Rearing some monster_)--Ver. 250. “Aliquid monstri
alunt.” Madame Dacier and some other Commentators give these words
the rather far-fetched meaning of “They are hatching some plot.”
Donatus, with much more probability, supposes him to refer to the
daughter of Chremes, whom, as the young women among the Greeks
were brought up in great seclusion, we may suppose Pamphilus never
to have seen.]
[Footnote 46: _She is oppressed with grief_)--Ver. 268. “Laborat a
dolore.” Colman has the following remark upon this passage:
“Though the word ‘laborat’ has tempted Donatus and the rest of the
Commentators to suppose that this sentence signifies Glycerium
being in labor, I can not help concurring with Cooke, that it
means simply that she is weighed down with grief. The words
immediately subsequent corroborate this interpretation; and at the
conclusion of the Scene, when Mysis tells him that she is going
for a midwife, Pamphilus hurries her away, as he would naturally
have done here had he understood by these words that her mistress
was in labor.”]
[Footnote 47: _By your good Genius_)--Ver. 289. “Per Genium tuum.”
This was a common expression with the Romans, and is used by
Horace, Epistles, B. i., Ep. 7:--
“Quod te per Genium dextramque Deosque Penates,
Obsecro, et obtestor--”
The word “Genius” signified the tutelary God who was supposed to
attend every person from the period of his birth. The
signification of the word will be found further referred to in the
Notes to the Translation of Plautus.]
[Footnote 48: _To fetch the midwife_)--Ver. 299. Cooke has the
following remark here: “Methinks Mysis has loitered a little too
much, considering the business which she was sent about; but
perhaps Terence knew that some women were of such a temper as to
gossip on the way, though an affair of life or death requires
their haste.” Colman thus takes him to task for this observation:
“This two-edged reflection, glancing at once on Terence and the
ladies, is, I think, very ill-founded. The delay of Mysis, on
seeing the emotion of Pamphilus, is very natural; and her artful
endeavors to interest Pamphilus on behalf of her mistress, are
rather marks of her attention than neglect.”]
[Footnote 49: _Charinus and Byrrhia_). We learn from Donatus that
the characters of Charinus and Byrrhia were not introduced in the
work of Menander, but were added to the Play of Terence, lest
Philumena’s being left without a husband, on the marriage of
Pamphilus to Glycerium, should appear too tragical a circumstance.
Diderot is of opinion that Terence did not improve his Play by
this addition.]
[Footnote 50: _Tell me nothing_)--Ver. 336. It has been suggested
that this refers to Byrrhia’s dissuading his master from
addressing Pamphilus, or else to what he has told him concerning
the intended marriage. Westerhovius thinks that Byrrhia is just
then whispering some trifling nonsense in his master’s ear, which
he, occupied with more important cares, is unwilling to attend
to.]
[Footnote 51: _To a high place_)--Ver. 356. He probably alludes to
some part of the Acropolis, the citadel, or higher part of Athens,
which commanded a view of the lower town.]
[Footnote 52: _Stillness before the door_)--Ver. 362. Madame
Dacier observes that this remark is very appropriately made by
Davus, as showing that the marriage was clearly not intended by
Chremes. The house of the bride on such an occasion would be
thronged by her friends, and at the door would be the musicians
and those who were to form part of the bridal procession.]
[Footnote 53: _No matron at the house_)--Ver. 364. By the use of
the word “matrona,” he probably alludes to the “pronubæ” among the
Romans, whose duties were somewhat similar to those of our
bride’s-maids. At the completion of the bridal repast, the bride
was conducted to the bridal chamber by matrons who had not had
more than one husband.]
[Footnote 54: _An obol’s worth_)--Ver. 369. The “obelus” was the
smallest Greek silver coin, and was equal in value to about three
halfpence of our money. “Pisciculi minuti,” “little fish,” were
much used for food among the poorer classes; “mena,” a fish
resembling our pilchard, was a common article of food with the
Romans. The larger kinds of fish went under the general name of
“cetum.”]
[Footnote 55: _I have now followed him_)--Ver. 414. “Hunc
venientem sequor.” Cooke has the following remark on this line:
“This verse, though in every edition, as Bentley judiciously
observes, is certainly spurious; for as Pamphilus has not
disappeared since Byrrhia left the stage, he could not say ‘nunc
{hunc} venientem sequor.’ If we suppose the line genuine, we must
at the same time suppose Terence guilty of a monstrous absurdity.”
On these words Colman makes the following just observations:
“Other Commentators have also stumbled at this passage; but if in
the words ‘followed {him} hither,’ we suppose {‘him’} (hunc) to
refer to Simo, the difficulty is removed; and that the pronoun
really does signify Simo, is evident from the circumstance of
Pamphilus never having left the stage since the disappearance of
Byrrhia. Simo is also represented as coming on the stage homeward,
so that Byrrhia might easily have followed him along the street;
and it is evident that Byrrhia does not allude to Pamphilus from
the agreeable surprise which he expresses on seeing him there so
opportunely for the purpose.”]
[Footnote 56: _Inflict evil upon me_)--Ver. 431. “Malum;” the
usual name by which slaves spoke of the beatings they were in the
habit of receiving at the hands or by the order of their irascible
masters. Colman has the following remarks: “Donatus observes on
this Scene between Byrrhia, Simo, Pamphilus, and Davus, that the
dialogue is sustained by four persons, who have little or no
intercourse with each other; so that the Scene is not only in
direct contradiction to the precept of Horace, excluding a fourth
person, but is also otherwise vicious in its construction. Scenes
of this kind are, I think, much too frequent in Terence, though,
indeed, the form of the ancient Theatre was more adapted to the
representation of them than the modern. The multiplicity of
speeches {aside} is also the chief error in this dialogue; such
speeches, though very common in dramatic writers, ancient and
modern, being always more or less unnatural.”]
[Footnote 57: _What does he say, Davus?_)--Ver. 434. “Quid, Dave,
narrat?” This reading Vollbehr suggests in place of the old one,
“Quid Davus narrat?” and upon good grounds, as it appears.
According to the latter reading we are to suppose that Davus is
grumbling to himself, on which Simo says, “What does Davus say?”
It seems, however, much more likely that Davus accompanies
Pamphilus to the door, and speaks to him before he goes in, and
then, on his return to Simo, the latter asks him, “What does he
say, Davus?”]
[Footnote 58: _Just as much as nothing_)--Ver. 434. “Æque quidquam
nunc quidem.” This is a circumlocution for “nothing at all:”
somewhat more literally perhaps, it might be rendered “just as
much as before.” Perizonius supplies the ellipsis with a long
string of Latin words, which translated would mean, “Now, indeed,
he says equally as much as he says then, when he says nothing at
all.”]
[Footnote 59: _Amount of ten drachmæ_)--Ver. 451. The Attic
drachma was a silver coin worth in value about 9¾_d._ of English
money.]
[Footnote 60: _Juno Lucina_)--Ver. 473. Juno Lucina had the care
of women in childbed. Under this name some suppose Diana to have
been worshiped. A similar incident to the present is found in the
Adelphi, l. 486; and in the Aulularia of Plautus, l. 646.]
[Footnote 61: _Are your scholars forgetful?_)--Ver. 477. He
alludes under this term to Mysis, Lesbia, and Pamphilus, whom he
supposes Davus to have been training to act their parts in the
plot against him.]
[Footnote 62: _Let her bathe_)--Ver. 483. It was the custom for
women to bathe immediately after childbirth. See the Amphitryon of
Plautus, l. 669, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s
Translation.]
[Footnote 63: _Be laying the child_)--Ver. 507. Colman has the
following remark on this line:-- “The art of this passage is equal
to the pleasantry, for though Davus runs into this detail merely
with a view to dupe the old man still further by flattering him on
his fancied sagacity, yet it very naturally prepares us for an
incident which, by another turn of circumstances, afterward
becomes necessary.”]
[Footnote 64: _Proved to be false_)--Ver. 513. That is, according
to Simo’s own notion, which Davus now thinks proper to humor.]
[Footnote 65: _To Bring a child at the same time_)--Ver. 515. This
is a piece of roguery which has probably been practiced in all
ages, and was somewhat commonly perpetrated in Greece. The reader
of English history will remember how the unfortunate son of James
II was said, in the face of the strongest evidence to the
contrary, to have been a supposititious child brought into the
queen’s chamber in a silver warming-pan.]
[Footnote 66: _But I do not think_)--Ver. 563-4. “At ego non posse
arbitror neque illum hane perpetuo habere.” Chremes uses an
ambiguous expression here, perhaps purposely. It may mean, “I do
not think that he can possibly be constant to her,” or, “that she
will continue to live with him.”]
[Footnote 67: _A sure son-in-law_)--Ver. 571. By the use of the
word “firmum,” he means a son-in-law who will not be likely to
resort to divorce or separation from his wife.]
[Footnote 68: _Why isn’t the bride sent for?_)--Ver. 582. Among
the Greeks the bride was conducted by the bridegroom at nightfall
from her father’s house, in a chariot drawn by a pair of mules or
oxen, and escorted by persons carrying the nuptial torches. Among
the Romans she proceeded in the evening to the bridegroom’s house;
preceded by a boy carrying a torch of white thorn, or, according
to some, of pine-wood. To this custom reference is indirectly made
in the present passage.]
[Footnote 69: _I myself, indeed!_)--Ver. 597. No doubt Davus says
these words in sorrow and regret; Simo, however, supposes them to
be uttered in exultation at the apparent success of his plans.
Consequently “vero” is intended by Davus to have the sense here of
“too truly.”]
[Footnote 70: _To a frivolous slave_)--Ver. 610. “Servo futili.”
According to the Scholiast on the Thebais of Statius, B. viii.
l. 297, “vas futile” was a kind of vessel with a broad mouth and
narrow bottom, used in the rites of Vesta. It was made of that
peculiar shape in order that the priest should be obliged to hold
it during the sacrifices, and might not set it on the ground,
which was considered profane; as, if set there, the contents must
necessarily fall out. From this circumstance, men who could not
{contain} a secret were sometimes called “futiles.”]
[Footnote 71: _You scoundrel_)--Ver. 619. “Furcifer;” literally,
wearer of the “furca,” or wooden collar. This method of punishment
has been referred to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.]
[Footnote 72: _What do you deserve?_)--Ver. 622. Madame Dacier
remarks that this question is taken from the custom of the
Athenians, who never condemned a criminal without first asking him
what punishment he thought he deserved; and according to the
nature of his answer they mitigated or increased his punishment.
Tho Commentators quote a similar passage from the Frogs of
Aristophanes.]
[Footnote 73: _The cross_)--Ver. 622. The “cross,” “crux,” as a
punishment for refractory slaves has been remarked upon in the
Notes to the Translation of Plautus.]
[Footnote 74: _The circumstances_)--Ver. 635. “Res.” According,
however, to Donatus, this word has the meaning here of “malice” or
“spitefulness.”]
[Footnote 75: _Concerned in my own interests_)--Ver. 637.
Equivalent to our sayings, “Charity begins at home;” “Take care of
number one.”]
[Footnote 76: _They are not ashamed_)--Ver. 638. Terence has
probably borrowed this remark from the Epidicus of Plautus,
l. 165-6: “Generally all men are ashamed when it is of no use; when
they ought to be ashamed, then does shame forsake them, when
occasion is for them to be ashamed.”]
[Footnote 77: _Makes a noise_)--Ver. 683. The doors with the
Romans opened inwardly, while those of the Greeks opened on the
outside. It was therefore usual with them, when coming out, to
strike the door on the inside with a stick or with the knuckles,
that those outside might be warned to get out of the way. Patrick,
however, observes with some justice, that the word “concrepuit”
may here allude to the creaking of the hinges. See the Curculio of
Plautus, l. 160, where the Procuress pours water on the hinges, in
order that Cappadox may not hear the opening of the door.]
[Footnote 78: _Take some sacred herbs_)--Ver. 727. “Verbena”
appears to have been a general term applied to any kind of herb
used in honor of the Deities, or to the boughs and leaves of any
tree gathered from a pure or sacred place. Fresh “verbenæ” were
placed upon the altars every day. See the Mercator of Plautus,
l. 672.]
[Footnote 79: _From the altar here_)--Ver. 727. It was usual to
have altars on the stage; when Comedy was performed, one on the
left hand in honor of Apollo, and on the representation of
Tragedy, one on the right in honor of Bacchus. It has been
suggested that Terence here alludes to the former of these. As,
however, at Athens almost every house had its own altar in honor
of Apollo Prostaterius just outside of the street door, it is most
probable that to one of these altars reference is here made. They
are frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus.]
[Footnote 80: _Which I had first purposed, I now give up_)--Ver.
734. His first intention no doubt was to go and inform Simo of the
child being laid at the door.]
[Footnote 81: _Whenever there’s necessity_)--Ver. 737. He retires
without fully explaining his intention to Mysis; consequently, in
the next Scene she gives an answer to Chremes which Davus does not
intend.]
[Footnote 82: _Stuffed out beneath her clothes_)--Ver. 771.
“Suffarcinatam.” He alludes to the trick already referred to as
common among the Greeks, of the nurses and midwives secretly
introducing supposititious children; see l. 515 and the Note.]
[Footnote 83: _Several free women were present_)--Ver. 772. She
speaks of “liberæ,” “free women,” because in Greece as well as
Italy slaves were not permitted to give evidence. See the Curculio
of Plautus, l. 621, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s
Translation. See also the remark of Geta in the Phormio, l. 293.]
[Footnote 84: _Constrained by the laws_)--Ver. 782. He alludes to
a law at Athens which compelled a man who had debauched a
free-born woman to marry her. This is said by Davus with the view
of frightening Chremes from the match.]
[Footnote 85: _She ought to be carried off_)--Ver. 787. He says
this implying that Mysis, who is a slave, ought to be put to the
torture to confess the truth; as it was the usual method at Athens
to force a confession from slaves by that method. We find in the
Hecyra, Bacchis readily offering her slaves to be put to the
torture, and in the Adelphi the same custom is alluded to in the
scene between Micio, Hegio, and Geta.]
[Footnote 86: _Descended to me by law_)--Ver. 800. On the
supposition that Chrysis died without a will, Crito as her next of
kin would be entitled to her effects.]
[Footnote 87: _ Is Chrysis then----?_)--Ver. 804. This is an
instance of Aposiopesis; Crito, much affected, is unwilling to
name the death of Chrysis. It was deemed of ill omen to mention
death, and numerous Euphemisms or circumlocutions were employed in
order to avoid the necessity of doing so.]
[Footnote 88: _Warn me, a stranger_)--Ver. 812. Patrick has the
following remarks upon this passage: “Madame Dacier observes that
it appears, from Xenophon’s Treatise on the policy of the
Athenians, that all the inhabitants of cities and islands in
alliance with Athens were obliged in all claims to repair thither,
and refer their cause to the decision of the people, not being
permitted to plead elsewhere. We can not wonder then that Crito is
unwilling to engage in a suit so inconvenient from its length,
expense, and little prospect of success.” She might have added
that such was the partiality and corruptness of the Athenian
people, that, being a stranger, his chances of success would
probably be materially diminished.]
[Footnote 89: _You set in motion_)--Ver. 865. By the use of the
word “Commotus” he seems to allude to the wretched, restless
existence of a man tied hand and foot, and continually working at
the hand-mill. Westerhovius thinks that Simo uses this word
sarcastically, in allusion to the words of Davus, at the beginning
of the present Scene, “Animo otioso esse impero;” “I bid you set
your minds at ease.”]
[Footnote 90: _Hands and feet together_)--Ver. 866. “Quadrupedem.”
Literally “as a quadruped” or “all fours.” Echard remarks that it
was the custom of the Athenians to tie criminals hands and feet
together, just like calves.]
[Footnote 91: _ Without regard to the custom and the law_)--Ver.
880. There was a law among the Athenians which forbade citizens to
marry strangers, and made the offspring of such alliances
illegitimate; the same law also excluded such as were not born of
two citizens from all offices of trust and honor.]
[Footnote 92: _Could opportunely suggest to him_)--Ver. 919.
Colman has the following remark on this line: “Madame Dacier and
several English Translators make Pamphilus say that he could give
Crito a hint or two. What hints he could propose to suggest to
Crito, I can not conceive. The Italian translation, printed with
the Vatican Terence, seems to understand the words in the same
manner that I have translated them, in which sense (the pronoun
‘illum’ referring to Simo instead of Crito) they seem to be the
most natural words of Pamphilus on occasion of his father’s anger
and the speech immediately preceding.”]
[Footnote 93: _A sharper_)--Ver. 920. “Sycophanta.” For some
account of the “sycophantæ,” “swindlers” or “sharpers” of ancient
times, see the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, Bohn’s
Translation.]
[Footnote 94: _A long time ago_)--Ver. 924. The story begins with
“Olim,” just in the same way that with us nursery tales commence
with “There was, a long time ago.”]
[Footnote 95: _A citizen of Rhamnus_)--Ver. 931. Rhamnus was a
maritime town of Attica, near which many of the more wealthy
Athenians had country-seats. It was famous for the Temple of
Nemesis there, the Goddess of Vengeance, who was thence called
“Rhamnusia.” In this Temple was her statue, carved by Phidias out
of the marble which the Persians brought to Greece for the purpose
of making a statue of Victory out of it, and which was thus
appropriately devoted to the Goddess of Retribution. The statue
wore a crown, and had wings, and, holding a spear of ash in the
right hand, it was seated on a stag.]
[Footnote 96: _One difficulty_)--Ver. 941. “Scrupus,” or
“scrupulus,” was properly a stone or small piece of gravel which,
getting into the shoe, hurt the foot; hence the word figuratively
came to mean a “scruple,” “difficulty,” or “doubt.” We have a
similar expression: “to be graveled.”]
[Footnote 97: _A knot in a bulrush_)--Ver. 942. “Nodum in scirpo
quærere” was a proverbial expression implying a desire to create
doubts and difficulties where there really were none; there being
no knots in the bulrush. The same expression occurs in the
Menæchmi of Plautus, l. 247.]
[Footnote 98: _Of course----Then be it so_)--Ver. 951. “Nempe id.
Scilicet.” Colman has the following remark on this line: “Donatus,
and some others after him, understand these words of Simo and
Pamphilus as requiring a fortune of Chremes with his daughter; and
one of them says that Simo, in order to explain his meaning, in
the representation, should produce a bag of money. This surely is
precious refinement, worthy the genius of a true Commentator.
Madame Dacier, who entertains a just veneration for Donatus,
doubts the authenticity of the observation ascribed to him. The
sense I have followed is, I think, the most obvious and natural
interpretation of the words of Pamphilus and Simo, which refers to
the preceding, not the subsequent, speech of Chremes.”]
[Footnote 99: _He is not rightly bound_)--Ver. 956. “Non recte
vinctus;” meaning “it was not well done to bind him.” The father
pretends to understand him as meaning (which he might equally well
by using the same words), “non satis stricte,” “he wasn’t tightly
enough” bound; and answers “I ordered that he should be,”
referring to his order for Davus to be bound hand and foot.
Donatus justly observes that the disposition of the old gentleman
to joke is a characteristic mark of his thorough reconciliation.]
[Footnote 100: _Their joys are their own_)--Ver. 961. Westorhovius
remarks that he seems here to be promulgating the doctrine of
Epicurus, who taught that the Deities devoted themselves entirely
to pleasure and did not trouble themselves about mortals. Donatas
observes that these are the doctrines of Epicurus and that the
whole sentence is copied from the Eunuch of Menander; to which
practice of borrowing from various Plays, allusion is made in the
Prologue, where he mentions the mixing of plays; “contaminari
fabulas.”]
[Footnote 101: _Grant us your applause_)--Ver. 982. “Plaudite.”
Colman has the following remark at the conclusion of this Play:
“All the old Tragedies and Comedies acted at Rome concluded in
this manner. ‘Donec cantor vos “Plaudite” dicat,’ says Horace. Who
the ‘cantor’ was, is a matter of dispute. Madame Dacier thinks it
was the whole chorus; others suppose it to have been a single
actor; some the prompter, and some the composer. Before the word
‘Plaudite’ in all the old copies is an Ω which has also given rise
to several learned conjectures. It is most probable, according to
the notion of Madame Dacier, that this Ω, being the last letter of
the Greek alphabet, was nothing more than the mark of the
transcriber to signify the end, like the Latin word ‘Finis’ in
modern books; or it might, as Patrick supposes, stand for Ωδος,
‘cantor,’ denoting that the following word ‘Plaudite’ was spoken
by him. After ‘Plaudite’ in all the old copies of Terence stand
these two words, ‘Calliopius recensui;’ which signify,
‘I, Calliopius, have revised and corrected this piece.’ And this
proceeds from the custom of the old critics, who carefully revised
all Manuscripts, and when they had read and corrected any work,
certified the same by placing their names at the end of it.”]
* * * * *
* * * *
EUNUCHUS; THE EUNUCH.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
LACHES,[1] an aged Athenian.
PHÆDRIA,[2] } his sons.
CHÆREA,[3] }
ANTIPHO,[4] a young man, friend of Chærea.
CHREMES,[5] a young man, brother of Pamphila.
THRASO,[6] a boastful Captain.
GNATHO,[7] a Parasite.
PARMENO,[8] servant of Phædria.
SANGA,[9] cook to Thraso.
DONAX,[10] }
SIMALIO,[11] } servants of Thraso.
SYRISCUS,[12] }
DORUS,[15] a Eunuch slave.
THAIS,[13] a Courtesan.
PYTHIAS,[14] } her attendants.
DORIAS,[15] }
SOPHRONA,[16] a nurse.
PAMPHILA,[17] a female slave.
_Scene._--Athens; before the houses of LACHES and THAIS.
THE SUBJECT.
A certain citizen of Athens had a daughter named Pamphila, and a son
called Chremes. The former was stolen while an infant, and sold to a
Rhodian merchant, who having made a present of her to a Courtesan of
Rhodes, she brought her up with her own daughter Thais, who was
somewhat older. In the course of years, Thais following her mother’s
way of life, removes to Athens. Her mother dying, her property is put
up for sale, and Pamphila is purchased as a slave by Thraso, an
officer and an admirer of Thais, who happens just then to be visiting
Rhodes. During the absence of Thraso, Thais becomes acquainted with
Phædria, an Athenian youth, the son of Laches; she also discovers from
Chremes, who lives near Athens, that Pamphila, her former companion,
is his sister. Thraso returns, intending to present to her the girl he
has bought, but determines not to do so until she has discarded
Phædria. Finding that the girl is no other than Pamphila, Thais is at
a loss what to do, as she both loves Phædria, and is extremely anxious
to recover Pamphila. At length, to please the Captain, she excludes
Phædria, but next day sends for him, and explains to him her reasons,
at the same time begging of him to allow Thraso the sole right of
admission to her house for the next two days, and assuring him that as
soon as she shall have gained possession of the girl, she will
entirely throw him off. Phædria consents, and resolves to spend these
two days in the country; at the same time he orders Parmeno to take to
Thais a Eunuch and an Æthiopian girl, whom he has purchased for her.
The Captain also sends Pamphila, who is accidentally seen by Chærea,
the younger brother of Phædria; he, being smitten with her beauty,
prevails upon Parmeno to introduce him into the house of Thais, in the
Eunuch’s dress. Being admitted there, in the absence of Thais, he
ravishes the damsel. Shortly afterward Thraso quarrels with Thais, and
comes with all his attendants to her house to demand the return of
Pamphila, but is disappointed. In conclusion, Pamphila is recognized
by her brother Chremes, and is promised in marriage to Chremes; while
Thraso becomes reconciled to Phædria, through the mediation of Gnatho,
his Parasite.
THE TITLE[18] OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Megalensian Games; L. Posthumius Albinus and L.
Cornelius Merula being Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio and L.
Atilius Præsnestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius,
composed the music to two treble flutes. From the Greek of Menander.
It was acted twice,[19] M. Valerius and C. Fannius being Consuls.[20]
EUNUCHUS; THE EUNUCH.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
The Captain, Thraso, being ignorant of the same, has brought {from
abroad} a girl who used wrongly to be called the sister of Thais, and
presents her to {Thais} herself: she {in reality} is a citizen of
Attica. To the same woman, Phædria, an admirer of Thais, orders a
Eunuch whom he has purchased, to be taken, and he himself goes away
into the country, having been entreated to give up two days to Thraso.
A youth, the brother of Phædria, having fallen in love with the damsel
sent to the house of Thais, is dressed up in the clothes of the
Eunuch. Parmeno prompts him; he goes in; he ravishes the maiden; but
{at length} her brother being discovered, a citizen of Attica,
betroths her who has been ravished, to the youth, {and} Thraso
prevails upon Phædria by his entreaties.
THE PROLOGUE.
If there is any one who desires to please as many good men as
possible, and to give offense to extremely few, among those does our
Poet enroll his name. Next, if there is one who thinks[21] that
language too harsh, is {here} applied to him, let him bear this in
mind-- that it is an answer, not an attack; inasmuch as he has himself
been the first aggressor; who, by translating {plays} verbally,[22]
and writing them in bad {Latin}, has made out of good Greek {Plays}
Latin ones by no means good. Just as of late he has published the
Phasma[23] [the Apparition] of Menander; and in the Thesaurus [the
Treasure] has described[24] him from whom the gold is demanded, as
pleading his cause why it should be deemed his own, before the person
who demands it {has stated} how this treasure belongs to him, or how
it came into the tomb of his father. Henceforward, let him not deceive
himself, or fancy thus, “I have now done with it; there’s nothing that
he can say to me.” I recommend him not to be mistaken, and to refrain
from provoking me. I have many other points, as to which for the
present he shall be pardoned, which, {however}, shall be brought
forward hereafter, if he persists in attacking me, as he has begun to
do. After the Ædiles had purchased the Eunuch of Menander, {the Play}
which we are about to perform, he managed to get an opportunity of
viewing it.[25] When the magistrates were present it began to be
performed. He exclaimed that a thief, no Poet, had produced the piece,
but still had not deceived[26] {him}; that, in fact, it was the Colax,
an old Play of Plautus;[27] {and} that from it were taken the
characters of the Parasite and the Captain. If this is a fault, the
fault is the ignorance of the Poet; not that he intended to be guilty
of theft. That so it is, you will now be enabled to judge. The Colax
is {a Play} of Menander’s; in it there is Colax, a Parasite, and a
braggart Captain: he does not deny that he has transferred these
characters into his Eunuch from the Greek; but assuredly he does deny
this, that he was aware that those pieces had been already translated
into Latin. But if it is not permitted {us} to use the same characters
as others, how can it any more be allowed to represent hurrying
servants,[28] to describe virtuous matrons, artful courtesans, the
gluttonous parasite, the braggart captain, the infant palmed off, the
old man cajoled by the servant, about love, hatred, suspicion? In
fine, nothing is said now that has not been said before. Wherefore it
is but just that you should know this, and make allowance, if the
moderns do what the ancients used to do. Grant me your attention, and
give heed in silence, that you may understand what the Eunuch means.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.
_Enter PHÆDRIA and PARMENO._
PHÆD. What, then, shall I do?[29] Ought I not to go, not now even,
when I am sent for of her own accord? Or ought I rather so to behave
myself as not to put up with affronts from Courtesans? She shut her
door against me; she {now} invites me back. Ought I to return? No;
though she should implore me.
PAR. I’faith, if indeed you {only} can, there’s nothing better or more
spirited; but if you begin, and can not hold out stoutly, and if, when
you can not endure it, while no one asks you, peace being not made,
you come to her of your own accord, showing that you love her, and can
not endure it, you are done for; it’s all over {with you}; you are
ruined outright. She’ll be jilting you, when she finds you overcome.
Do you then, while there’s time, again and again reflect upon this,
master, that a matter, which in itself admits of neither prudence nor
moderation, you are unable to manage with prudence. In love there are
all these evils; wrongs, suspicions, enmities, reconcilements, war,
then peace; if you expect to render these things, {naturally}
uncertain, certain by dint of reason, you wouldn’t effect it a bit the
more than if you were to use your endeavors to be mad with reason.
And, what you are now, in anger, meditating to yourself, “What! I to
her?[30] Who-- him! Who-- me! Who wouldn’t? Only let me alone; I had
rather die; she shall find out what sort of a person I am;” these
expressions, upon my faith, by a single false tiny tear, which, by
rubbing her eyes, poor thing, she can hardly squeeze out perforce, she
will put an end to; and she’ll be the first to accuse you; and you
will be too ready to give satisfaction to her.
PHÆD. O disgraceful conduct! I now perceive, both that she is
perfidious, and that I am a wretched man. I am both weary of her, and
burn with passion; knowing {and} fully sensible, alive and seeing it,
I am going to ruin; nor do I know what I am to do.
PAR. What you are to do? Why, only to redeem yourself, {thus}
captivated, at the smallest price you can; if you can not at a very
small rate, still for as little as you can; and do not afflict
yourself.
PHÆD. Do you persuade me to this?
PAR. If you are wise. And don’t be adding to the troubles which love
itself produces; those which it does produce, bear patiently. But see,
here she is coming herself, the downfall of our fortunes,[31]-- for
that which we ought ourselves to enjoy she intercepts.
SCENE II.
_Enter THAIS from her house._
THAIS (_to herself, not seeing them._) Ah wretched me! I fear lest
Phædria should take it amiss or otherwise than I intended it, that he
was not admitted yesterday.
PHÆD. (_aside to PARMENO._) I’m trembling and shivering all over,
Parmeno, at the sight of her.
PAR. (_apart._) Be of good heart; {only} approach this fire,[32]
you’ll soon be warmer than you need.
THAIS (_turning round._) Who is it that’s speaking here? What, are you
here, my Phædria? Why are you standing here! Why didn’t you come into
the house at once?
PAR. (_whispering to PHÆDRIA._) But not a word about shutting you out!
THAIS. Why are you silent?
PHÆD. Of course, it’s because[33] this door is always open to me, or
because I’m the highest in your favor?
THAIS. Pass those matters by.
PHÆD. How pass them by? O Thais, Thais, I wish that I had equal
affection with yourself, and that it were in like degree, that either
this, might distress you in the same way that it distresses me, or
that I might be indifferent at this being done by you.
THAIS. Prithee, don’t torment yourself, my life, my Phædria. Upon my
faith, I did it, not because I love or esteem any person more {than
you}; but the case was such {that} it was necessary to be done.
PAR. (_ironically._) I suppose that, poor thing, you shut him out of
doors, for love, according to the usual practice.
THAIS. Is it thus you act, Parmeno? Well, well. (_To PHÆDRIA._) But
listen-- the reason for which I desired you to be sent for hither--
PHÆD. Go on.
THAIS. First tell me this; can this fellow possibly hold his tongue?
(_pointing to PARMENO._)
PAR. What, I? Perfectly well. But, hark you, upon these conditions I
pledge my word to you; the truth that I hear, I’m silent upon, and
retain it most faithfully; but if I hear what’s false and without
foundation, it’s out at once; I’m full of chinks, and leak in every
direction. Therefore, if you wish it to be kept secret, speak the
truth.
THAIS. My mother was a Samian; she lived at Rhodes--
PAR. That may be kept a secret.
THAIS. There, at that period, a certain merchant made present to my
mother of a little girl, who had been stolen away from Attica here.
PAR. What, a citizen?
THAIS. I think {so}; we do not know for certain: she herself used to
mention her mother’s and her father’s name; her country and other
tokens she didn’t know, nor, by reason of her age, was she able. The
merchant added this: that he had heard from the kidnappers that she
had been carried off from Sunium.[34] When my mother received her, she
began carefully to teach her every thing, {and} to bring her up, just
as though she had been her own daughter. Most persons supposed that
she was my sister. Thence I came hither with that stranger, with whom
alone at that period I was connected; he left me all which I {now}
possess--
PAR. Both these things are false; out it goes.
THAIS. How so?
PAR. Because you were neither content with one, nor was he the only
one to make you presents; for he likewise (_pointing to PHÆDRIA_)
brought a pretty considerable share to you.
THAIS. Such is the fact; but do allow me to arrive at the point I
wish. In the mean time, the Captain, who had begun to take a fancy to
me, set out to Caria;[35] since when, in the interval, I became
acquainted with you. You yourself are aware how very dear I have held
you; and how I confess to you all my nearest counsels.
PHÆD. Nor will Parmeno be silent about that.
PAR. O, is that a matter of doubt?
THAIS. Attend; I entreat you. My mother died there recently; her
brother is somewhat greedy after wealth. When he saw that this damsel
was of beauteous form and understood music, hoping for a good price,
he forthwith put her up for sale, {and} sold her. By good fortune this
friend of mine was present; he bought her as a gift to me, not knowing
or suspecting any thing of all this. He returned; but when he
perceived that I had formed a connection with you as well, he feigned
excuses on purpose that he might not give her; he said that if he
could feel confidence that he should be preferred to yourself by me,
so as not to apprehend that, when I had received her, I should forsake
him, {then} he was ready to give her to me; but that he did fear this.
But, so far as I can conjecture, he has set his affections upon the
girl.
PHÆD. Any thing beyond that?
THAIS. Nothing; for I have made inquiry. Now, my Phædria, there are
many reasons why I could wish to get her away from him. In the first
place, because she was called my sister; moreover, that I may restore
and deliver her to her friends. I am a lone woman; I have no one here,
neither acquaintance nor relative; wherefore, Phædria, I am desirous
by my good offices to secure friends. Prithee, do aid me in this, in
order that it may be the more easily effected. Do allow him for the
few next days to have the preference with me. Do you make no answer?
PHÆD. Most vile woman! Can I make you any answer after such behavior
as this?
PAR. Well done, my {master}, I commend you; (_aside_) he’s galled at
last. (_To PHÆDRIA._) You show yourself a man.
PHÆD. I was not aware what you were aiming at; “she was carried away
from here, {when} a little child; my mother brought her up as though
her own; she was called my sister; I wish to get her away, that I may
restore her to her friends.” The meaning is, that all these
expressions, in fine, now amount to this, {that} I am shut out, he is
admitted. For what reason? Except that you love him more than me: and
now you are afraid of her who has been brought {hither}, lest she
should win him, such as he is, from yourself.
THAIS. I, afraid of that?
PHÆD. What else, then, gives you concern? Let me know. Is he the only
person who makes presents? Have you found my bounty shut against you?
Did I not, when you told me that you wished for a servant-maid from
Æthiopia,[36] setting all other matters aside, go and seek for one?
Then you said that you wanted a Eunuch, because ladies of quality[37]
alone make use of them; I found {you one}. I yesterday paid twenty
minæ[38] for them both. Though slighted by you, I {still} kept these
things in mind; as a reward for so doing, I am despised by you.
THAIS. Phædria, what does this mean? Although I wish to get her away,
and think that by these means it could most probably be effected;
still, rather than make an enemy of you, I’ll do as you request me.
PHÆD. I {only} wish that you used that expression from your heart and
truthfully, “rather than make an enemy of you.” If I could believe
that this was said sincerely, I could put up with any thing.
PAR. (_aside._) He staggers; how instantaneously is he vanquished by a
single expression!
THAIS. I, wretched woman, not speak from my heart? What, pray, did you
ever ask of me in jest, but that you carried your point? I am unable
to obtain {even} this of you, that you would grant {me} only two days.
PHÆD. If, indeed, {it is but} two days; but don’t let these days
become twenty.
THAIS. Assuredly not more than two days, or--
PHÆD. “Or?” I won’t have it.
THAIS. It shall not be; only do allow me to obtain this of you.
PHÆD. Of course that which you desire must be done.
THAIS. I love you as you deserve; you act obligingly.
PHÆD. (_to PARMENO._) I shall go into the country; there I shall worry
myself for the {next} two days: I’m resolved to do so; Thais must be
humored. Do you, Parmeno, take care that they are brought hither.
PAR. Certainly.
PHÆD. For the next two days {then}, Thais, adieu.
THAIS. And the same to you, my Phædria; do you desire aught else?
PHÆD. What should I desire? That, present with the Captain, you may be
as if absent; that night and day you may love me; may feel my absence;
may dream of me; may be impatient for me; may think about me; may hope
for me; may centre your delight in me; may be all in all with me; in
fine, if you will, be my {very} life, as I am yours.
(_Exeunt PHÆDRIA and PARMENO._
SCENE III.
_THAIS alone._
THAIS, (_to herself._) Ah wretched me![39] perhaps now he puts but
little faith in me, and forms his estimate of me from the dispositions
of other women.[40] By my troth, I, who know my own self, am very sure
of this, that I have not feigned any thing that’s false, and that no
person is dearer to my heart than this {same} Phædria; and whatever in
the present case I have done, for {this} girl’s sake have I done it;
for I trust that now I have pretty nearly discovered her brother,
a young man of very good family; and he has appointed this day to come
to me at my house. I’ll go hence in-doors, and wait until he comes.
(_She goes into her house._)
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.
_Enter PHÆDRIA and PARMENO._
PHÆD. Mind that those people are taken {there}, as I ordered.
PAR. I’ll do {so}.
PHÆD. And carefully.
PAR. It shall be done.
PHÆD. And with all speed.
PAR. It shall be done.
PHÆD. Have you had sufficient instructions?
PAR. Dear me! to ask the question, as though it were a matter of
difficulty. I wish that you were able, Phædria, to find any thing as
easily as this present will be lost.
PHÆD. Together with it, I {myself} am lost, which concerns me more
nearly. Don’t bear this with such a feeling of vexation.
PAR. By no means; on the contrary, I’ll see it done. But do you order
any thing else?
PHÆD. Set off my present with words, as far as you can; and so far as
you are able, do drive away that rival {of mine} from her.
PAR. Pshaw! I should have kept that in mind, even if you hadn’t
reminded me.
PHÆD. I shall go into the country and remain there.
PAR. I agree with you. (_Moves as if going._)
PHÆD. But hark you!
PAR. What is it you want?
PHÆD. Are you of opinion that I can muster resolution and hold out so
as not to come back within the time?
PAR. What, you? Upon my faith, I don’t think {so}; for either you’ll
be returning at once, or by-and-by, at night, want of sleep will be
driving you hither.
PHÆD. I’ll do some {laborious} work, that I may be continually
fatigued, so as to sleep in spite of myself.
PAR. When wearied, you will be keeping awake; by this you will be
making it worse.
PHÆD. Oh, you talk to no purpose, Parmeno: this softness of spirit,
upon my faith, must be got rid of; I indulge myself too much. Could I
not do without her, pray, if there were the necessity, even for a
whole three days?
PAR. Whew! an entire three days! Take care what you are about.
PHÆD. My mind is made up. (_Exit._
SCENE II.
_PARMENO alone._
PAR. (_to himself._) Good Gods! What a malady is this! That a man
should become so changed through love, that you wouldn’t know him to
be the same person! Not any one was there[41] less inclined to folly
than he, and no one more discreet {or} more temperate. But who is it
that’s coming this way? Heyday! surely this is Gnatho, the Captain’s
Parasite; he’s bringing along with him the damsel as a present to her.
Heavens! How beautiful! No wonder if I make but a sorry figure here
to-day with this decrepit Eunuch of mine. She surpasses Thais herself.
(_Stands aside._)
SCENE III.
_Enter GNATHO at a distance, leading PAMPHILA._
GNA. (_to himself._) Immortal Gods! how much does one man excel
another! What a difference there is between a wise person and a fool!
This strongly came into my mind from the following circumstance. As I
was coming along to-day, I met a certain person of this place, of my
own rank and station, no mean fellow, one who, like myself, had
guttled away his paternal estate; I saw him, shabby, dirty, sickly,
beset with rags and years; --“What’s the meaning of this garb?” said
I; {he answered}, “Because, wretch that I am, I’ve lost what I
possessed: see to what I am reduced,-- all my acquaintances and
friends forsake me.” On this I felt contempt for him in comparison
with myself. “What!” said I, “you pitiful sluggard, have you so
managed matters as to have no hope left? Have you lost your wits
together with your estate? Don’t you see me, who have risen from the
same condition? What a complexion I have, how spruce and well dressed,
what portliness of person? I have every thing, {yet} have nothing; and
although I possess nothing, still, of nothing am I in want.” “But I,”
{said he}, “unhappily, can neither be a butt nor submit to blows.”[42]
“What!” {said I}, “do you suppose it is managed by those means? You
are quite mistaken. Once upon a time, in the early ages, there was a
calling for that class; this is a new mode of coney-catching; I, in
fact, have been the first to strike into this path. There is a class
of men who strive to be the first in every thing, but are not; to
these I make my court; I do not present myself to them to be laughed
at; but I am the first to laugh with them, and at the same time to
admire their parts: whatever they say, I commend; if they contradict
that self-same thing, I commend again. Does any one deny? I deny: does
he affirm? I affirm: in fine, I have {so} trained myself as to humor
them in every thing. This calling is now by far the most productive.”
PAR. (_apart._) A clever fellow, upon my faith! From being fools he
makes men mad outright.
GNA. (_to himself, continuing._) While we were thus talking, in the
mean time we arrived at the market-place; overjoyed, all the
confectioners ran at once to meet me; fishmongers,[43] butchers,
cooks,[44] sausage-makers, {and} fishermen, whom, both when my
fortunes were flourishing and when they were ruined, I had served, and
often serve {still}: they complimented me, asked me to dinner, {and}
gave me a hearty welcome. When this poor hungry wretch saw that I was
in such great esteem, and that I obtained a living so easily, then the
fellow began to entreat me that I would allow him to learn this
{method} of me; I bade him become my follower[45] if he could; as the
disciples of the Philosophers take their names from {the Philosophers}
themselves, so too, the Parasites ought to be called Gnathonics.
PAR. (_apart to the Audience._) Do you see the effects of ease and
feeding at another’s cost?
GNA. (_to himself, continuing._) But why do I delay to take this girl
to Thais, and ask her to come to dinner? (_Aside, on seeing PARMENO._)
But I see Parmeno, our rival’s servant, waiting before the door of
Thais with a sorrowful air; all’s safe; no doubt these people are
finding a cold welcome. I’m resolved to have some sport with this
knave.
PAR. (_aside._) They fancy that, through this present, Thais is
{quite} their own.
GNA. (_accosting PARMENO._) With his very best wishes Gnatho greets
Parmeno, his very good friend. --What are you doing?
PAR. I’m standing.[46]
GNA. {So} I perceive. Pray, do you see any thing here that don’t
please you?
PAR. Yourself.
GNA. I believe {you},-- but any thing else, pray?
PAR. Why so?
GNA. Because you are out of spirits.
PAR. Not in the least.
GNA. {Well}, don’t be {so}; but what think you of this slave?
(_pointing to her._)
PAR. Really, not amiss.
GNA. (_aside._) I’ve galled the fellow.
PAR. (_aside, on overhearing him._) How mistaken you are in your
notion!
GNA. How far do you suppose this gift will prove acceptable to Thais?
PAR. It’s this you mean to say now, that we are discarded there. Hark
you, there are vicissitudes in all things.
GNA. For the next six months, Parmeno, I’ll set you at ease; you
sha’n’t have to be running to and fro, or sitting up till daylight.
Don’t I make you happy?
PAR. Me? O prodigiously!
GNA. That’s my way with my friends.
PAR. I commend {you}.
GNA. I’m detaining you; perhaps you were about to go somewhere else.
PAR. Nowhere.
GNA. In that case then, lend me your services a little; let me be
introduced to her.
PAR. Very well; (_GNATHO knocks at the door, which immediately opens_)
now the door is open for you, (_aside_) because you are bringing her.
GNA. (_going into the house of THAIS, ironically._) Should you like
any one to be called out from here? (_Goes in with PAMPHILA, and shuts
the door._)
SCENE IV.
_PARMENO, alone._
PAR. (_to himself._) {Only} let the next two days go by; you who, at
present, in such high favor, are opening the door with one little
finger, assuredly I’ll cause to be kicking at that {door} full oft,
with your heels, to no purpose.
_Re-enter GNATHO from the house._
GNA. Still standing here, Parmeno? Why now, have you been left on
guard here, that no go-between might perchance be secretly running
from the Captain to her? (_Exit._
PAR. Smartly said; really {they ought to be} wonderful things to
please the Captain. But I see my master’s youngest son coming this
way; I wonder why he has come away from the Piraeus,[47] for he is at
present on guard there in the public service. It’s not for nothing;
he’s coming in a hurry, too; I can’t imagine why he’s looking around
in all directions.
SCENE V.
_Enter CHÆREA on the other side of the stage, in haste._
CHÆ. (_to himself._) I’m utterly undone! The girl is nowhere; nor do
I know where I am myself, to have lost sight of her. Where to inquire
for her, where to search for her, whom to ask, which way to turn, I’m
at a loss. I have only this hope; wherever she is, she can not long be
concealed. O what beauteous features! from this moment I banish all
other women from my thoughts; I can not endure these every-day
beauties.
PAR. (_apart._) Why look, here’s the other one. He’s saying something,
I don’t know what, about love. O unfortunate old man, {their father!}
This assuredly is a youth, who, if he does begin, you will say that
the other one was mere play and pastime, compared with what the
madness of this one will cause.
CHÆ. (_to himself, aloud._) May all the Gods and Goddesses confound
that old fellow who detained me to-day, and me as well who stopped for
him, and in fact troubled myself a straw about him. But see, here’s
Parmeno. (_Addressing him._) Good-morrow to you.
PAR. Why are you out of spirits, and why in {such} a hurry? Whence
come you?
CHÆ. What, I? I’faith, I neither know whence I’m come, nor whither I’m
going; so utterly have I lost myself.
PAR. How, pray?
CHÆ. I’m in love.
PAR. (_starting._) Ha!
CHÆ. Now, Parmeno, you may show what sort of a man you are. You know
that you often promised me {to this effect}: “Chærea, do you only find
some {object} to fall in love with; I’ll make you sensible of my
usefulness in such matters,” when I used to be storing up my father’s
provisions for you on the sly in your little room.[48]
PAR. To the point, {you} simpleton.
CHÆ. Upon my faith, this is the fact. Now, then, let your promises be
made good, if you please, or if indeed the affair is a deserving one
for you to exert your energies upon. The girl isn’t like our girls,
whom their mothers are anxious to have with shoulders kept down, {and}
chests well girthed,[49] that they may be slender. If one is a little
inclined to plumpness, they declare that she’s training for a
boxer,[50] {and} stint her food; although their constitutions are
good, by their treatment they make them as slight as bulrushes; and so
for that reason they are admired, {forsooth}.
PAR. What sort of a girl is this one of yours?
CHÆ. A new style of beauty.
PAR. (_ironically._) Astounding!
CHÆ. Her complexion genuine,[51] her flesh firm and full of
juiciness.[52]
PAR. Her age?
CHÆ. Her age? Sixteen.
PAR. The very flower of youth.[53]
CHÆ. Do you make it your care to obtain her for me either by force,
stealth, or entreaty; so that I only gain her, it matters not how to
me.
PAR. Well, but to whom does the damsel belong?
CHÆ. {That}, i’faith, I don’t know.
PAR. Whence did she come?
CHÆ. {That}, just as much.
PAR. Where does she live?
CHÆ. Nor yet do I know that.
PAR. Where did you see her?
CHÆ. In the street.
PAR. How did you come to lose her?
CHÆ. Why, that’s what I was just now fretting myself about; and I do
not believe that there is one individual to whom all good luck is a
greater stranger than to myself. What ill fortune this is! I’m utterly
undone!
PAR. What’s the matter?
CHÆ. Do you ask me? Do you know Archidemides, my father’s kinsman and
years’-mate?
PAR. Why not?
CHÆ. He, while I was in full pursuit of her, met me.
PAR. Unseasonably, upon my faith.
CHÆ. Aye, unhappily, rather; for other {ordinary} matters are to be
called “unseasonable,” Parmeno. It would be safe for me to make oath
that I have not seen him for fully these six or seven months, until
just now, when I least wanted, and there was the least occasion. Come
now! isn’t this like a fatality? What do you say?
PAR. Extremely {so}.
CHÆ. At once he came running up to me, from a considerable distance,
stooping, palsied, hanging his lip, {and} wheezing. “Halloo, Chærea!
halloo!” said he; “I’ve something to say to you.” I stopped. “Do you
know what {it is} I want with you?” {said he}. “Say on,” {said I}.
“To-morrow my cause comes on,” {said he}. “What then?” “Be sure and
tell your father to remember and be my advocate[54] in the morning.”
In talking of this, an hour elapsed.[55] I inquired if he wanted any
thing {else}. “That’s all,” said he. I left him. When I looked in this
direction for the damsel, she had that very instant turned thia way
down this street of ours.
PAR. (_aside._) It’s a wonder if he doesn’t mean her who has just now
been made a present of to {Thais here}.
CHÆ. When I got here, she was nowhere to be seen.
PAR. Some attendants, I suppose, were accompanying the girl?
CHÆ. Yes; a Parasite, and a female servant.
PAR. (_apart._) It’s the very same. (_To CHÆREA._) It’s all over with
you; make an end of it; you’ve said your last.[56]
CHÆ. You are thinking about something else.
PAR. Indeed I’m thinking of this same matter.
CHÆ. Pray, tell me, do you know her, or did you see her?
PAR. I did see, {and} I do know her; I am aware to what house she has
been taken.
CHÆ. What, my {dear} Parmeno, do you know her, and are you aware where
she is?
PAR. She has been brought here (_pointing_) to the house of Thais the
Courtesan.[57] She has been made a present to her.
CHÆ. What opulent person is it, to be presenting a gift so precious as
this?
PAR. The Captain Thraso, Phædria’s rival.
CHÆ. An unpleasant business for my brother, it should seem.
PAR. Aye, and if you did but know what present he is pitting against
this present, you would say so still more.
CHÆ. Troth now, what is it, pray?
PAR. A Eunuch.[58]
CHÆ. What! that unsightly creature, pray, that he purchased yesterday,
an old woman?
PAR. That very same.
CHÆ. To a certainty, the gentleman will be bundled out of doors,
together with his present; but I wasn’t aware that this Thais is our
neighbor.
PAR. It isn’t long {since she came}.
CHÆ. Unhappy wretch that I am! never to have seen her, even. Come now,
just tell me, is she as handsome as she is reported to be?[59]
PAR. Quite.
CHÆ. But nothing in comparison with this damsel of mine?
PAR. Another thing altogether.
CHÆ. Troth now, Parmeno, prithee do contrive for me to gain possession
of her.
PAR. I’ll do my best, and use all my endeavors; I’ll lend you my
assistance. (_Going._) Do you want any thing else with me?
CHÆ. Where are you going now?
PAR. Home; to take those slaves to Thais, as your brother ordered me.
CHÆ. Oh, lucky Eunuch that! really, to be sent as a present to that
house! PAR. Why so?
CHÆ. Do you ask? Ho will always see at home a fellow-servant of
consummate beauty, {and} he conversing with her; he will be in the
same house with her; sometimes he will take his meals with her;
sometimes sleep near her.
PAR. What now, if you yourself were to be this fortunate person?
CHÆ. By what means, Parmeno? Tell me.
PAR. Do you assume his dress.
CHÆ. His dress! Well, what then?
PAR. I’ll take you there instead of him.
CHÆ. (_musing._) I hear {you}.
PAR. I’ll say that you are he.
CHÆ. I understand {you}.
PAR. You may enjoy those advantages which you just now said he {would
enjoy}; you may take your meals together with her, be in company with
her, touch her, dally with her, {and} sleep by her side; as not one of
these women is acquainted with you, nor yet knows who you are.
Besides, you are of an age and figure that you may easily pass for a
eunuch.
CHÆ. You speak to the purpose; I never knew better counsel given.
Well, let’s go in at once; dress me up, take me away, lead me to her,
as fast as you can.
PAR. What do you mean? Really, I was only joking.
CHÆ. You talk nonsense.
PAR. I’m undone! Wretch that I am! what have I done? (_CHÆREA pushes
him along._) Whither are you pushing me? You’ll throw me down
presently. I entreat you, be quiet.
CHÆ. Let’s be off. (_Pushes him._)
PAR. Do you still persist?
CHÆ. I am resolved upon it.
PAR. Only take care that this isn’t too rash a project.
CHÆ. Certainly it isn’t; let me alone for that.
PAR. Aye, but I shall have to pay the penalty[60] for this?
CHÆ. Pshaw!
PAR. We shall be guilty of a disgraceful action.
CHÆ. What, is it disgraceful[61] to be taken to the house of a
Courtesan, and to return the compliment upon those tormentors who
treat us and our youthful age so scornfully, and who are always
tormenting us in every way;-- to dupe them just as we are duped by
them? Or is it right and proper that in preference my father should be
wheedled {out of his money} by deceitful pretexts? Those who knew of
this would blame me; while all would think the other a meritorious
act.
PAR. What’s to be done in such case? If you are determined to do it,
you must do it: but don’t you by-and-by be throwing the blame upon me.
CHÆE. I shall not do so.
PAR. Do you order me, {then}?
CHÆ. I order, charge, and command you; I will never disavow my
authorizing you.
PAR. Follow me; may the Gods prosper it! (_They go into the house of
LACHES._)
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_Enter THRASO and GNATHO._
THRA. Did Thais really return me many thanks?
GNA. Exceeding {thanks}.
THRA. Was she delighted, say you?
GNA. Not so much, indeed, at the present itself, as because it was
given by you; really, in right earnest, she does exult at that.
_Enter PARMENO unseen, from LACHES’ house._
PAR. (_apart._) I’ve come here to be on the look-out, that when there
is an opportunity I may take {the presents}. But see, here’s the
Captain.
THRA. Undoubtedly it is the case with me, that every thing I do is a
cause for thankfulness.
GNA. Upon my faith, I’ve observed it.
THRA. The most mighty King,[62] even, always used to give me especial
thanks for whatever I did; but not so to others.
GNA. He who has the wit that you have, often by his words appropriates
to himself the glory that has been achieved by the labor of others.
THRA. You’ve just hit it.[63]
GNA. The king, then, kept you in his eye.[64]
THRA. Just so.
GNA. To enjoy your society.
THRA. True; he intrusted {to me} all his army, all his state secrets.
GNA. Astonishing!
THRA. Then if, on any occasion, a surfeit of society, or a dislike of
business, came upon him, when he was desirous to take some recreation;
just as though-- you understand?[65]
GNA. I know; just as though on occasion he would rid his mind of those
anxieties.
THRA. You have it. Then he used to take me aside as his only boon
companion.
GNA. Whew! You are telling of a King of refined taste.
THRA. Aye, he is a person of that sort; a man of but very few
acquaintanceships.
GNA. (_aside._) Indeed, of none,[66] I fancy, if he’s on intimate
terms with you.
THRA. All the people envied me, and attacked me privately. I don’t
care one straw. They envied me dreadfully; but one in particular, whom
{the King} had appointed over the Indian elephants.[67] Once, when he
became particularly troublesome, “Prithee, Strato,” said I, “are you
so fierce because you hold command over the wild beasts?”
GNA. Cleverly said, upon my faith, and shrewdly. Astounding! You did
give the fellow a home thrust. What said he?
THRA. Dumfounded, instantaneously.
GNA. How could he be otherwise?
PAR. (_apart._) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! a lost and miserable
fellow the one, and the other a scoundrel.
THRA. Well then, about that matter, Gnatho, the way in which I touched
up the Rhodian at a banquet-- did I never tell you?
GNA. Never; but pray, do tell me. (_Aside._) I’ve heard it more than a
thousand times already.
THRA. There was in my company at a banquet, this young man of Rhodes,
whom I’m speaking of. By chance I had a mistress there; he began to
toy with her, and to annoy me. “What are you doing, sir impudence?”
said I to the fellow; “a hare yourself, and looking out for game?”[68]
GNA. (_pretending to laugh very heartily._) Ha, ha, ha!
THRA. What’s the matter?
GNA. How apt, how smart, how clever; nothing {could be} more
excellent. Prithee, was this a saying of yours? I fancied it was an
old one.
THRA. Did you ever hear it before?
GNA. Many a time; and it is mentioned among the first-rate ones.
THRA. It’s my own.
GNA. I’m sorry {though} that it was said to a thoughtless young man,
and one of respectability.
PAR. (_apart._) May the Gods confound you!
GNA. Pray, what {did} he {do}?
THRA. Quite disconcerted. All who were present were dying with
laughter; in short, they were all quite afraid of me.
GNA. Not without reason.
THRA. But hark you, had I best clear myself of this to Thais, as to
her suspicion that I’m fond of this girl?
GNA. By no means: on the contrary, rather increase her jealousy.
THRA. Why so?
GNA. Do you ask me? Don’t you see, if on any occasion she makes
mention of Phædria or commends him, to provoke you----
THRA. I understand.
GNA. That such may not be the case, this method is the only remedy.
When she speaks of Phædria, do you instantly {mention} Pamphila. If at
any time she says, “Let’s invite Phædria to make one,” {do} you {say},
“Let’s {ask} Pamphila to sing.” If she praises his good looks, do you,
on the other hand, praise hers. In short, do you return like for like,
which will mortify her.
THRA. If, indeed, she loved me,[69] this might be of some use, Gnatho.
GNA. Since she is impatient for and loves that which you give her, she
already loves you; as it is, {then}, it is an easy matter for her to
feel vexed. She will be always afraid lest the presents which she
herself is now getting, you may on some occasion be taking elsewhere.
THRA. Well said; that never came into my mind.
GNA. Nonsense. You never thought about it; else how much more readily
would you yourself have hit upon it, Thraso!
SCENE II.
_Enter THAIS from her house, attended by PYTHIAS._
THAIS, (_as she comes out._) I thought I just now heard the Captain’s
voice. And look, here he is. Welcome, my {dear} Thraso.
THRA. O my Thais, my sweet one, how are you? How much do you love me
in return for that music girl?
PAR. (_apart._) How polite! What a beginning he has made on meeting
her!
THAIS. Very much, as you deserve.
GNA. Let’s go to dinner then. (_To THRASO._) What do you stand {here}
for?
PAR. (_apart._) Then there’s the other one: you would declare that he
was born for his belly’s sake.
THRA. When you please; I sha’n’t delay.
PAR. (_apart._) I’ll accost them, and pretend as though I had just
come out. (_He comes forward._) Are you going any where, Thais?
THAIS. Ha! Parmeno; well done; {just} going out for the day.
PAR. Where?
THAIS, (_aside, pointing at THRASO._) Why! don’t you see him?
PAR. (_aside._) I see him, and I’m sorry for it. (_Aloud._) Phædria’s
presents are ready for you when you please.
THRA. (_impatiently._) Why are we to stand {here}? Why don’t we be
off?
PAR. (_to THRASO._) Troth now, pray, do let us, with your leave,
present to her the things we intend, {and} accost and speak to her.
THRA. (_ironically._) Very fine presents, I suppose, or {at least}
equal to mine.
PAR. The fact will prove itself. (_Goes to the door of LACHES’ house
and calls._) Ho there! bid those people come out of doors at once, as
I ordered.
_Enter from the house a BLACK GIRL._
PAR. Do you step forward this way, (_To THAIS._) She comes all the way
from Æthiopia.
THRA. (_contemptuously._) Here are some three minæ in value.
GNA. Hardly so much.
PAR. Where are you, Dorus? Step this way.
_Enter CHÆREA from the house, dressed like the EUNUCH._
PAR. There’s a Eunuch for you-- of what a genteel appearance! of what
a prime age!
THAIS. God bless me, he’s handsome.
PAR. What say you, Gnatho? Do you see any thing to find fault with?
And what {say} you, Thraso? (_Aside._) They hold their tongues; they
praise him sufficiently {thereby}. (_To THAIS._) Make trial of him in
literature, try him in exercises,[70] and in music; I’ll warrant him
well skilled in what it becomes a gentleman to know.
THRA. That Eunuch, if occasion served,[71] even in my sober senses,
I--
PAR. And he who has sent these things makes no request that you will
live for him alone, and that for his own sake others may be excluded;
he neither tells of battles nor shows his scars, nor does he restrict
you as (_looking at THRASO_) a certain person does; but when it is not
inconvenient, whenever you think fit, whenever you have the time, he
is satisfied to be admitted.
THRA. (_to GNATHO, contemptuously._) It appears that this is the
servant of some beggarly, wretched master.
GNA. Why, faith, no person, I’m quite sure of that, could possibly put
up with him, who had the means to get another.
PAR. You hold your tongue-- a fellow whom I consider beneath all men
of the very lowest grade: for when you can bring yourself to flatter
that fellow (_pointing at THRASO_), I do believe you could pick your
victuals out of the {very} flames.[72]
THRA. Are we to go now?
THAIS. I’ll take these in-doors first (_pointing to CHÆREA and the
ÆTHIOPIAN_), and at the same time I’ll order what I wish; after that
I’ll return immediately. (_Goes into the house with PYTHIAS, CHÆREA,
and the SLAVE._)
THRA. (_to GNATHO._) I shall be off. Do you wait for her.
PAR. It is not a proper thing for a general to be walking in the
street with a mistress.
THRA. Why should I use many words with you? You are the very ape of
your master. (_Exit PARMENO._
GNA. (_laughing._) Ha, ha, ha!
THRA. What are you laughing at?
GNA. At what you were mentioning just now; that saying, too, about the
Rhodian, recurred to my mind. But Thais is coming out.
THRA. You go before; take care that every thing is ready at home.
GNA. Very well. (_Exit._
_Re-enter THAIS, with PYTHIAS and FEMALE ATTENDANTS._
THAIS. Take care, Pythias, and be sure that if Chremes should happen
to come,[73] to beg him to wait; if that is not convenient, then to
come again; if he can not do that, bring him to me.
PYTH. I’ll do so.
THAIS. Well, what else was I intending to say? O, do you take
particular care of that young woman; be sure that you keep at home.
THRA. Let us begone.
THAIS, (_to her attendants._) You follow me. (_Exeunt THAIS and
THRASO, followed by the Attendants. PYTHIAS goes into the house._)
SCENE III.
_Enter CHREMES._
CHREM. (_to himself._) Why, really, the more and more I think of it,
I shouldn’t be surprised if this Thais should be doing me {some} great
mischief; so cunningly do I perceive myself beset by her. Even on the
occasion when she first requested me to be fetched to her (any one
might ask me, “What business had you with her?” Really I don’t know.)
When I came, she found an excuse for me to remain there; she said that
she had been offering a sacrifice,[74] and that she was desirous to
speak upon some important business with me. Even then I had a
suspicion that all these things were being done for her artful
purposes. She takes her place beside me; pays every attention to me;
seeks an opportunity of conversation. When {the conversation} flagged,
she turned off to this point-- how long since my father and mother
died? I said that it was now a long time ago. Whether I had any
country-house at Sunium, and how far from the sea? I suppose that this
has taken her fancy, {and} she expects to get it away from me. Then at
last, whether any little sister of mine had been lost from there;
whether any person was with her; what she had about her when she was
lost; whether any one could recognize her. Why should she make these
inquiries? Unless, perhaps, she pretends-- so great is her assurance--
that she herself is the same person that was formerly lost when a
little girl. But if she is alive, she is sixteen years old, not older;
{whereas} Thais is somewhat older than I am. She has sent to press me
earnestly to come. Either let her speak out what she wants, or not be
troublesome; I assuredly shall not come a third time (_knocking at the
door of THAIS_). Ho! there, ho! there! Is any one here? It’s I,
Chremes.
SCENE IV.
_Enter PYTHIAS from the house._
PYTH. O most charming, dear creature!
CHREM. (_apart._) I said there was a design upon me.
PYTH. Thais entreated you most earnestly to come again to-morrow.
CHREM. I’m going into the country.
PYTH. Do, there’s a dear sir.
CHREM. I can not, I tell you.
PYTH. Then stay here at our house till she comes back.
CHREM. Nothing less likely.
PYTH. Why, my dear Chremes? (_Taking hold of him._)
CHREM. (_shaking her off._) Away to perdition with you!
PYTH. If you are so determined about it, pray do step over to the
place where she is.
CHREM. I’ll go {there}.
PYTH. (_calling at the door._) {Here}, Dorias (_DORIAS enters_), show
this person directly to the Captain’s.
(_Exit CHREMES with DORIAS, PYTHIAS goes into the house._
SCENE V.
_Enter ANTIPHO._
ANT. (_to himself._) Yesterday some young fellows of us agreed
together at the Piræus that we were to go shares today in a
club-entertainment. We gave Chærea charge of this matter; our rings
were given[75] as {pledges}; the place and time arranged. The time has
{now} gone by; at the place appointed there was nothing ready. The
fellow himself is nowhere {to be} met with; I neither know what to say
nor what to suppose. Now the rest have commissioned me with this
business, to look for him. I’ll go see, therefore, if he’s at home.
But who’s this, I wonder, coming out of Thais’s? Is it he, or is it
not? ’Tis the very man! What, sort of being is this? What kind of garb
is this? What mischief is going on now? I can not sufficiently wonder
or conjecture. But, whatever it is, I should like first at a distance
to try and find out. (_He stands apart._)
SCENE VI.
_Enter CHÆREA from the house of Thais, in the EUNUCH’S dress._
CHÆ. (_looking around, then aloud to himself._) Is there anybody here?
There’s no one. Is there any one following me from there? There’s not
a person. Now am I not at liberty to give vent to these raptures?
O supreme Jupiter! now assuredly is the time for me to meet my
death,[76] when I can so well endure it; lest my life should sully
this ecstasy with some disaster. But is there now no inquisitive
person to be intruding upon me, to be following me wherever I go, to
be deafening me, worrying me to death, with asking questions; why
{thus} transported, or why {so} overjoyed, whither I’m going, whence
I’m come, where I got this garb, what is my object, whether I’m in my
senses or whether downright mad?
ANT. (_apart._) I’ll accost him, and I’ll do him the favor which I see
he’s wishing for. (_Accosting him._) Chærea, why are you thus
transported? What’s the object of this garb? Why is it that you’re so
overjoyed? What is the meaning of this? Are you quite right in your
senses? Why do you stare at me? What have you to say?
CHÆ. O joyous day! O welcome, my friend! There’s not one in all the
world whom I would rather wish to see at this moment than yourself.
ANT. Pray, do tell me what all this means.
CHÆ. Nay rather, i’faith, I beg of you to listen to me. Do you know
the mistress whom my brother is so fond of?
ANT. I know her; I suppose you mean Thais?
CHÆ. The very same.
ANT. So far I recollect.
CHÆ. To-day a certain damsel was presented to her. Why now should I
extol or commend her beauty to you, Antipho, since you yourself know
how nice a judge of beauty I am? I have been smitten by her.
ANT. Do you say so?
CHÆ. If you saw her, I am sure you would say she’s exquisite. What
need of many words? I fell in love with her. By good luck there was at
our house a certain Eunuch, whom my brother had purchased for Thais,
and he had not as yet been sent to her. On this occasion, Parmeno, our
servant, made a suggestion to me, which I adopted.
ANT. What was it?
CHÆ. {Be} quiet, {and} you shall hear the sooner; to change clothes
with him, and order myself to be taken there in his stead.
ANT. What, instead of the Eunuch?
CHÆ. The fact.
ANT. To receive what advantage, pray, from this plan?
CHÆ. Do you ask? That I might see, hear, and be in company with her
whom I loved, Antipho. Is {that} a slight motive, or a poor reason?
I was presented to {the} woman. She, as soon as she received me,
joyfully took me home to her house and intrusted the damsel--
ANT. To whom? To you?
CHÆ. To me.
ANT. (_ironically._) In perfect safety, at all events.
CHÆ. She gave orders that we male was to come near her, and commanded
me not to stir away from her; that I was to remain alone with her in
the inner apartments.[77] Looking bashfully on the ground, I nodded
assent.
ANT. (_ironically._) Poor fellow!
CHÆ. (_continuing._) “I am going out,” said she, “to dinner.” She took
her maids with her; a few novices of girls[78] remained, to be about
her. These immediately made preparations for her to bathe. I urged
them to make haste. While preparations were being made, the damsel sat
in a room looking up at a certain painting,[79] in which was
represented how Jove[80] is said once to have sent a golden shower
into the bosom of Danaë. I myself began to look at it as well, and as
he had in former times played the like game, I felt extremely
delighted that a God should change himself into money, and slily come
through the tiles of another person’s house, to deceive the fair one
by means of a shower. But what God was {this}? He who shakes the most
lofty temples of heaven with his thunders. Was I, a poor creature of a
mortal,[81] not to do the same? Certainly, I was to do it, and without
hesitation. While I was thinking over these matters with myself, the
damsel meantime was fetched away to bathe; she went, bathed, and came
back; after which they laid her on a couch. I stood waiting to see if
they gave me any orders. One came up, “Here, Dorus,” said she, “take
this fan,[82] and let her have a little air in this fashion, while we
are bathing; when we have bathed, if you like, you may bathe too.”
With a demure air I took it.
ANT. Really, I should very much have liked to see that impudent face
of yours just then, and what figure a great donkey like you made,
holding a fan!
CHÆ. (_continuing._) Hardly had she said this, when all, in a moment,
betook themselves off: away they went to bathe, and chattered
aloud;[83] just as the way is when masters are absent. Meanwhile,
sleep overtook the damsel; I slily looked askance[84] through the
fan;[85] this way (_showing how_): at the same time I looked round in
all directions, to see whether all was quite safe. I saw that it was.
I bolted the door.
ANT. What then?
CHÆ. Eh? What then, {you} simpleton?
ANT. I own I am.
CHÆ. Was I to let slip the opportunity offered me, so excellent, so
short-lived,[86] so longed for, so unexpected. In that case, i’faith,
I really should have been the person I was pretending to be.
ANT. Troth, you certainly are in the right; but, meantime, what has
been arranged about the club-entertainment?
CHÆ. All’s ready.
ANT. You are a clever band; but where? At your house?
CHÆ. No, at Discus’s, our freedman.
ANT. That’s a long way off.
CHÆ. Then let’s make so much the greater haste.
ANT. Change your dress.
CHÆ. Where am I to change it? I’m at a loss; for at present I’m an
exile from home; I’m afraid of my brother, lest he should be in-doors:
and then again of my father, lest he should have returned from the
country by this.
ANT. Let’s go to my house; there is the nearest place for you to
change.
CHÆ. You say right. Let’s be off; besides, I want to take counsel with
you about this girl, by what means I may be able to secure the future
possession of her.
ANT. Very well. (_Exeunt._
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
_Enter DORIAS, with a casket in her hand._
DORIAS (_to herself._) So may the Gods bless me, but from what I have
seen, I’m terribly afraid that this mad fellow will be guilty of some
disturbance to-day or of some violence to Thais. For when this young
man, the brother of the damsel, arrived, she begged the Captain to
order him to be admitted; he immediately began to get into a passion,
and yet didn’t dare refuse; Thais still insisted that he would invite
the man in. This she did for the sake of detaining him; because there
was no opportunity {just then} of telling him what she wanted to
disclose about her sister. He was invited in, and took his seat. Then
she entered into discourse with him. But the Captain, fancying it was
a rival brought before his {very} eyes, wanted in his turn to mortify
her: “Hark you, boy,” said he, “go fetch Pamphila, that she may amuse
us here.” She exclaimed, “At a banquet! Certainly not.” The Captain
still persisted to a downright quarrel. Meanwhile my mistress secretly
took off her golden {jewels},[87] and gave them to me to take away:
this is a sign, I’m sure, that she’ll betake herself from there as
soon as she possibly can.
(_Goes into the house._)
SCENE II.
_Enter PHÆDRIA._
PHÆD. (_to himself._) While I was going[88] into the country, I began
on the road, as it mostly happens when there is any anxiety on the
mind, to reflect with myself upon one thing after another, and upon
every thing in the worst light. What need of words? While I was musing
thus, inadvertently I passed my country-house. I had already got some
distance from it, when I perceived this; I returned again, really
feeling quite uneasy; when I came to the very turning that leads to
{the house}, I came to a stop, {and} began to reason with myself;
“What! must I stay here alone for two days without her? Well, and what
then? It’s nothing at all. What? Nothing at all? Well now, if I
haven’t the privilege of touching her, am I not even to have that of
seeing her? If I may not do the one, at least I may the other. Surely
to love at a distance[89] {even}, is better than nothing at all.”
I purposely passed the house. But how’s this, that Pythias is suddenly
hurrying out in such a fright? (_Stands apart._)
SCENE III.
_Enter PYTHIAS and DORIAS in haste from the house of THAIS._
PYTH. (_aloud._) Where, wretch that I am, shall I find this wicked and
impious fellow? Or where look for him? That he should dare to commit
so audacious a crime as this! I’m ruined outright!
PHÆD. (_apart._) I dread what this may be.
PYTH. Besides, too, the villain, after he had abused the girl, rent
all the poor thing’s clothes, and tore her hair as well.
PHÆD. (_apart, in surprise._) Ha!
PYTH. If he were just now in my reach, how eagerly would I fly at that
villain’s eyes with my nails!
PHÆD. (_apart._) Really I can’t imagine what disturbance has happened
to us at home in my absence. I’ll accost them. (_Going up to them._)
What’s the matter? Why in such haste? Or whom are you looking for,
Pythias?
PYTH. Why, Phædria, whom should I be looking for? Away with you, as
you deserve, with such fine presents of yours.
PHÆD. What is the matter?
PYTH. What, do you ask? The Eunuch you gave us, what confusion he has
caused. He has ravished the girl whom the Captain made present of to
my mistress.
PHÆD. What is it you say?
PYTH. I’m ruined outright!
PHÆD. You are drunk.
PYTH. I wish that they were so, who wish ill to me.
DORIAS. Oh, prithee, my {dear} Pythias, what a monstrous thing this
is!
PHÆD. You are out of your senses. How could a Eunuch possibly do this?
PYTH. I know nothing about him: as to what he has done, the thing
speaks for itself. The girl is in tears; and when you ask her what’s
the matter, she does not dare tell. But he, a precious fellow, is
nowhere to be seen. To my sorrow I suspect too, that when he took
himself off he carried something away from the house.
PHÆD. I can not enough wonder, whither this varlet can possibly have
betaken himself to any distance from here; unless perhaps he has
returned home to our house.
PYTH. Pray, go and see whether he is there.
PHÆD. I’ll let you know immediately. (_Goes into the house of
LACHES._)
DORIAS. Ruined outright! Prithee, my dear, I never did so much as hear
of a deed so abominable!
PYTH. Why, faith, I had heard that they were extremely fond of the
women, but were incapable; unfortunately {what has happened} never
came into my mind; otherwise I should have shut him up somewhere, and
not have intrusted the girl to him.
SCENE IV.
_Enter PHÆDRIA from the house of LACHES, with DORUS in CHÆREA’S
clothes._
PHÆD. (_dragging him out._) Come out, you villain! What, do you lag
behind, you runaway? Out with you, you sorry bargain!
DORUS (_crying out._) Mercy, I do entreat you!
PHÆD. Oh, do look at that! How the villain distorts his face. What
means your coming back hither? Why this change of dress? What have you
to say? If I had delayed a moment, Pythias, I shouldn’t have found him
at home: he had just prepared, in this fashion, for flight. (_Pointing
at his dress._)
PYTH. Have you caught the fellow, pray?
PHÆD. Caught him, why not?
PYTH. O well done!
DORIAS. Upon my faith that really is capital!
PYTH. Where is he?
PHÆD. Do you ask the question? Don’t you see him? (_Pointing to the
EUNUCH._)
PYTH. (_staring about._) See whom, pray?
PHÆD. This fellow, to be sure (_pointing_).
PYTH. What person is this?
PHÆD. The same that was brought to your house to-day.
PYTH. Not one of our people has ever beheld this person with her eyes,
Phædria.
PHÆD. Not beheld him?
PYTH. Prithee, did you fancy that this was he who was brought to our
house?
PHÆD. Why, I had no other.
PYTH. O dear! this one really isn’t to be compared with the other. He
was of a handsome and genteel appearance.
PHÆD. He seemed {so}, just then, because he was decked out in
party-colored clothes:[90] now he appears ugly, for this reason--
because he hasn’t got them on.
PYTH. Prithee, do hold your tongue; as though indeed the difference
was so trifling. A young man was brought to our house to-day, whom,
really, Phædria, you would have liked to look upon. This is a
withered, antiquated, lethargic, old fellow, with a speckled
complexion.[91]
PHÆD. (_starting._) Hah! What tale is this? You’ll so be-fool me that
I sha’n’t know what I bought. (_To DORUS._) How now, sirrah, did I not
buy you?
DORUS. You did buy {me}.
PYTH. Bid him answer me in my turn.
PHÆD. Question {him}.
PYTH. (_to DORUS._) Did you come here to-day to our house? (_DORUS
shakes his head._) He says, no. But it was the other one that came,
about sixteen years of age; whom Parmeno brought with him.
PHÆD. (_to DORUS._) Well now, in the first place tell me this, where
did you get that dress that you have on? What, are you silent? Monster
of a fellow, are you not going to speak (_Shakes him._)
DORUS. Chærea came.
PHÆD. What, my brother?
DORUS. Yes.
PHÆD. When?
DORUS. To-day.
PHÆD. How long since?
DORUS. Just now.
PHÆD. With whom?
DORUS. With Parmeno.
PHÆD. Did you know him before?
DORUS. No.
PHÆD. How did you know he was my brother?
DORUS. Parmeno said he was. He gave me these clothes.
PHÆD. I’m undone!
DORUS. He himself put on mine; afterward, they both went out together.
PYTH. Now are you quite satisfied that I am sober, and that we have
told you no falsehood? Is it now sufficiently evident that the girl
has been ravished?
PHÆD. Avaunt, you beast, do you believe what he says?
PYTH. What is there to believe? The thing speaks for itself.
PHÆD. (_apart to DORUS._) Step aside a little this way. Do you hear?
(_DORUS steps aside._) A little further still. That will do. Now tell
me this once more; did Chærea take your clothes off you?
DORUS. He did.
PHÆD. And did he put them on?
DORUS. He did.
PHÆD. And was he brought here instead of you?
DORUS. Yes.
PHÆD. Great Jupiter! O wicked and audacious fellow!
PYTH. Woe unto me! Now at last will you believe that we have been
insulted in a disgraceful manner?
PHÆD. It is no wonder that you believe what the fellow says.
(_Aside._) What I’m to do I know not. (_Aside to DORUS._) Hark you,
deny {it all} again. (_Aloud._) Can I not this day extract the truth
from you? Did you {really} see my brother Chærea?
DORUS. No.
PHÆD. He can’t be brought to confess without being punished, I see:
follow me this way. At one moment he affirms, at another denies.
(_Aside._) Ask pardon of me.
DORUS. Indeed, I do entreat you, Phædria.
PHÆD. (_kicking him._) Be off in-doors.
DORUS. Oh! oh!
PHÆD. (_aside._) How in any other fashion to get decently out of this
I don’t know; for really it’s all up {with me}. (_Aloud, with
pretended indignation._) Will you be trifling with me even here, you
knave? (_Follows DORUS into the house._)
SCENE V.
_PYTHIAS and DORIAS._
PYTH. I’m as certain that this is the contrivance of Parmeno as that
I’m alive.
DORIAS. So it is, {no doubt}.
PYTH. I’faith, I’ll find out a method to-day to be even with him. But
now, what do you think ought to be done, Dorias?
DORIAS. Do you mean with regard to this girl?
PYTH. Yes; whether I ought to mention it or be silent?
DORIAS. Upon my word, if you are prudent, you won’t know what you do
know, either about the Eunuch or the girl’s misfortune. By this method
you’ll both rid yourself of all perplexity, and have done a service to
her.[92] Say this only, that Dorus has run away.
PYTH. I’ll do so.
DORIAS. But don’t I see Chremes? Thais will be here just now.
PYTH. Why so?
DORIAS. Because when I came away from there, a quarrel had just
commenced between them.
PYTH. Take in these golden {trinkets}; I shall learn from him what’s
the matter. (_DORIAS takes the casket into the house._)
SCENE VI.
_Enter CHREMES, somewhat drunk._
CHREM. Heyday! upon my faith, I’ve been bamboozled: the wine that I’ve
drunk has got the upper hand. But, so long as I was reclining, how
extremely sober I did seem to myself to be; when I got up, neither
feet nor senses were quite equal to their duty.
PYTH. Chremes!
CHREM. (_turning round._) Who’s that? What, Pythias; dear me, how much
more charming you now seem to me than a short time since!
PYTH. Troth now, you are much more merry, that’s certain.
CHREM. Upon my faith, it is a true saying, that “Venus grows cold
without Ceres and Bacchus.” But has Thais got here long before me?
PYTH. Has she already come away from the Captain’s?
CHREM. A long time ago; an age since. There has been a most violent
quarrel between them.
PYTH. Did she say nothing about you following her?
CHREM. Nothing at all; only, on going away, she gave me a nod.
PYTH. Well now, wasn’t that enough?
CHREM. Why, I didn’t know that she meant that, until the Captain gave
me an explanation, because I was dull of comprehension; for he bundled
me out of the house. But look, here she is; I wonder how it was I got
here before her.
SCENE VII.
_Enter THAIS._
THAIS. (_to herself._) I really do believe that he’ll be here
presently, to force her away from me. Let him come; but if he touches
her with a single finger, that instant his eyes shall be torn out.
I can put up with his impertinences and his high-sounding words, as
long as they remain words: but if they are turned into realities, he
shall get a drubbing.
CHREM. Thais, I’ve been here some time.
THAIS. O my {dear} Chremes, you are the very person I was wanting. Are
you aware that this quarrel took place on your account, and that the
whole of this affair, in fact, bore reference to yourself?
CHREM. To me? How so, pray?
THAIS. Because, while I’ve been doing my best to recover and restore
your sister to you, this and a great deal more like it I’ve had to put
up with.
CHREM. Where is she?
THAIS. At home, at my house.
CHREM. (_starting._) Hah!
THAIS. What’s the matter? She has been brought up in a manner worthy
of yourself and of her.
CHREM. What is it you say?
THAIS. That which is the fact. Her I present to you, nor do I ask of
you any return for her.
CHREM. Thanks are both felt and shall be returned in such way, Thais,
as you deserve.
THAIS. But still, take care, Chremes, that you don’t lose her, before
you receive her from me; for it is she, whom the Captain is now coming
to take away from me by force. Do you go, Pythias, and bring out of
the house the casket with the tokens.[93]
CHREM. (_looking down the side Scene._) Don’t you see him, Thais?
PYTH. (_to THAIS._) Where is it put?
THAIS. In the clothes’ chest. Tiresome {creature}, why do you delay?
(_PYTHIAS goes into the house._)
CHREM. What a large body of troops the Captain is bringing with him
against you. Bless me!
THAIS. Prithee, are you frightened, my {dear} sir?
CHREM. Get out with you. What, I frightened? There’s not a man alive
less so.
THAIS. Then now is the time to prove it.
CHREM. Why, I wonder what sort of a man you take me to be.
THAIS. Nay, and consider this too; the person that you have to deal
with is a foreigner;[94] of less influence than you, less known, and
one that has fewer friends here.
CHREM. I’m aware of that; but it’s foolish to run the risk of what you
are able to avoid. I had rather we should prevent it, than, having
received an injury, avenge ourselves upon him. Do you go in and fasten
the door, while I run across hence to the Forum; I should like us to
have the aid of some legal adviser in this disturbance. (_Moves, as if
going._)
THAIS. (_holding him._) Stay.
CHREM. Let me go, I’ll be here presently.
THAIS. There’s no occasion, Chremes. Only say that she is your sister,
and that you lost her {when} a little girl, {and} have now recognized
her; {then} show the tokens.
_Re-enter PYTHIAS from the house, with the trinkets._
PYTH. (_giving them to THAIS._) Here they are.
THAIS. (_giving them to CHREMES._) Take them. If he offers any
violence, summon the fellow to justice; do you understand me?
CHREM. Perfectly.
THAIS. Take care and say this with presence of mind.
CHREM. I’ll take care.
THAIS. Gather up your cloak. (_Aside._) Undone! the very person whom
I’ve provided as a champion, wants one himself. (_They all go into the
house._)
SCENE VIII.
_Enter THRASO, followed by GNATHO, SANGA, and other Attendants._
THRA. Am I to submit, Gnatho, to such a glaring affront as this being
put upon me? I’d die sooner. Simalio, Donax, Syriscus, follow me!
First, I’ll storm the house.
GNA. Quite right.
THRA. I’ll carry off the girl.
GNA. Very good.
THRA. I’ll give her own self a mauling.
GNA. Very proper.
THRA. (_arranging the men._) Advance hither to the main body, Donax,
with your crowbar; you, Simalio, to the left wing; you, Syriscus, to
the right. Bring up the rest; where’s the centurion Sanga, and his
maniple[95] of rogues?
SAN. (_coming forward._) See, here he is.
THRA. What, you booby, do you think of fighting with a dish-clout,[96]
to be bringing that here?
SAN. What, I? I knew the valor of the general, and the prowess of the
soldiers; {and} that this could not possibly go on without bloodshed;
how was I to wipe the wounds?
THRA. Where are the others?
SAN. Plague on you, what others? Sannio is the only one left on guard
at home.
THRA. (to GNATHO.) Do you draw up your men in battle order; I’ll be
behind the second rank;[97] from that position I’ll give the word to
all. (_Takes his place behind the second rank._)
GNA. (_aside._) That’s showing prudence; as soon as he has drawn them
up, he secures a retreat for himself.
THRA. (_pointing to the arrangements._) This is just the way Pyrrhus
used to proceed.[98]
_CHREMES and THAIS appear above at a window._
CHREM. Do you see, Thais, what plan he is upon? Assuredly, that advice
of mine about closing the door was good.
THAIS. He who now seems to you to be a hero, is in reality a mere
vaporer; don’t be alarmed.
THRA. (_to GNATHO._) What seems {best to you}?
GNA. I could very much[99] like a sling to be given you just now, that
you might pelt them from here on the sly at a distance; they would be
taking to flight.
THRA. (_to GNATHO._) But look (_pointing_), I see Thais there herself.
GNA. How soon are we to fall to?
THRA. Hold (_holding him back_); it behooves a prudent person to make
trial of every thing before arms. How do you know but that she may do
what I bid her without compulsion?
GNA. Ye Gods, by our trust in you, what a thing it is to be wise!
I never come near you but what I go away from you the wiser.
THRA. Thais, in the first place, answer me this. When I presented you
that girl, did you not say that you would give yourself up to me alone
for some days to come?
THAIS. Well, what then?
THRA. Do you ask the question? You, who have been and brought your
lover under my very eyes? What business had you with him? With him,
too, you clandestinely betook yourself away from me.
THAIS. I chose {to do so}.
THRA. Then give me back Pamphila; unless you had rather she were taken
away by force.
CHREM. Give her back to you, or you lay hands upon her? Of all the--
GNA. Ha! What are you about? Hold your tongue.
THRA. What do you mean? Am I not to touch my own?
CHREM. Your own, indeed, {you} gallows-bird![100]
GNA. (_to CHREMES._) Have a care, if you please. You don’t know what
kind of man you are abusing now.
CHREM. (_to GNATHO._) Won’t you be off from here? Do you know how
matters stand with you? If you cause any disturbance here to-day, I’ll
make you remember the place, and day, and me too, for the rest of your
life.
GNA. I pity you, who are making so great a man as this your enemy.
CHREM. I’ll break your head this instant if you are not off.
GNA. Do you really say so, puppy? Is it that you are at?
THRA. (_to CHREMES._) What fellow are you? What do you mean? What
business have you with her?
CHREM. I’ll let you know: in the first place, I assert that she is a
freeborn woman.
THRA. (_starting._) Ha!
CHREM. A citizen of Attica.
THRA. Whew!
CHREM. My own sister.
THRA. Brazen face!
CHREM. Now, therefore, Captain, I give you warning; don’t you use any
violence toward her. Thais, I’m going to Sophrona, the nurse, that I
may bring her here and show her these tokens.
THRA. What! Are you to prevent me from touching what’s my own?
CHREM. I will prevent it, I tell you.
GNA. (_to THRASO._) Do you hear him? He is convicting himself of
theft. Is not that enough for you?
THRA. Do you say the same, Thais?
THAIS. Go, find some one to answer you. (_She and CHREMES go away from
the window._)
THRA. (_to GNATHO._) What are we to do now?
GNA. Why, go back again: she’ll soon be with you, of her own accord,
to entreat forgiveness.
THRA. Do you think so?
GNA. Certainly, yes. I know the disposition of women: when you will,
they won’t; when you won’t, they set their hearts upon you of their
own inclination.
THRA. You judge right.
GNA. Shall I dismiss the army then?
THRA. Whenever you like.
GNA. Sanga, as befits gallant soldiers,[101] take care in your turn to
remember your homes and hearths.
SAN. My thoughts have been for some time among the sauce-pans.
GNA. You are a worthy fellow.
THRA. (_putting himself at their head._) You follow me this way.
(_Exeunt omnes._
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.
_Enter THAIS from her house, followed by PYTHIAS._
THAIS. What! do you persist, hussy, in talking ambiguously to me? “I
do know;” “I don’t know;” “he has gone off;” “I have heard;” “I wasn’t
there.” Don’t you mean to tell me plainly, whatever it is? The girl in
tears, with her garments torn, is mute; the Eunuch is off: for what
reason? What has happened? Won’t you speak?
PYTH. Wretch that I am, what am I to say to you? They declare that he
was not a Eunuch.
THAIS. What was he then?
PYTH. That Chærea.
THAIS. What Chærea?
PYTH. That stripling, the brother of Phædria.
THAIS. What’s that you say, you hag?
PYTH. And I am satisfied of it.
THAIS. Pray, what business had he at my house? What brought him there?
PYTH. I don’t know; unless, as I suppose, he was in love with
Pamphila.
THAIS. Alas! to my confusion, unhappy woman that I am, I’m undone, if
what you tell me is true. Is it about this that the girl is crying?
PYTH. I believe so.
THAIS. How say you, you arch-jade? Did I not warn you about this very
thing, when I was going away from here?
PYTH. What could I do? Just as you ordered, she was intrusted to his
care only.
THAIS. Hussy, I’ve been intrusting the sheep to the wolf. I’m quite
ashamed to have been imposed upon in this way. What sort of man was
he?
PYTH. Hush! hush! mistress, pray; we are all right. Here we have the
very man.
THAIS. Where is he?
PYTH. Why there, to the left. Don’t you see?
THAIS. I see.
PYTH. Order him to be seized as quickly as possible.
THAIS. What can we do to him, simpleton?
PYTH. What do to him, do you ask? Pray, do look at him; if his face
doesn’t seem an impudent one.
THAIS. Not at all.
PYTH. Besides, what effrontery he has.