_Enter PHÆDRIA from the house of LACHES._
PHÆD. (_to himself._) Ye Gods, by our trust in you, what incredible
things has Parmeno just related to me! But where is my brother?
CHÆ. (_stepping forward._) Here he is.
PHÆD. I’m overjoyed.
CHÆ. I quite believe you. There is no one, brother, more worthy to be
loved than this Thais of yours: so much is she a benefactress to all
our family.
PHÆD. Whew! are you commending her {too} to me?
THRA. (_apart._) I’m undone; the less the hope I have, the more I am
in love. Prithee, Gnatho, my hope is in you.
GNA. (_apart._) What do you wish me to do?
THRA. (_apart._) Bring this about, by entreaties {or} with money, that
I may at least share Thais’s favors in some degree.
GNA. (_apart._) It’s a hard task.
THRA. (_apart._) If you set your mind on any thing, I know you {well}.
If you manage this, ask me for any present you like as your reward;
you shall have what you ask.
GNA. (_apart._) Is it so?
THRA. (_apart._) It shall be so.
GNA. (_apart._) If I manage this, I ask that your house, whether you
are present or absent, may be open to me; that, without invitation,
there may always be a place for me.
THRA. (_apart._) I pledge my honor that it shall be {so}.
GNA. (_apart._) I’ll set about it {then}.
PHÆD. Who is it I hear so close at hand? (_Turning round._) O Thraso--
THRA. (_coming forward._) Save you {both}--
PHÆD. Perhaps you are not aware what has taken place here.
THRA. I am quite aware.
PHÆD. Why, then, do I see you in this neighborhood?
THRA. Depending on your {kindness}.
PHÆD. Do you know what sort of dependence you have? Captain, I give
you notice, if ever I catch you in this street again, even if you
should say to me, “I was looking for another person, I was on my road
this way,” you are undone.
GNA. Come, come, that’s not handsome.
PHÆD. I’ve said it.
GNA. I didn’t know you gave yourself such airs.
PHÆD. So it shall be.
GNA. First hear a few words from me; and when I have said the thing,
if you approve of it, do it.
PHÆD. Let’s hear.
GNA. Do you step a little that way, Thraso. (_THRASO stands aside._)
In the first place, I wish you both implicitly to believe me in this,
that whatever I do in this matter, I do it entirely for my own sake;
but if the same thing is of advantage to yourselves, it would be folly
for you not to do it.
PHÆD. What is it?
GNA. I’m of opinion that the Captain, your rival, should be received
{among you}.
PHÆD. (_starting._) Hah!
CHÆ. Be received?
GNA. (_to PHÆDRIA._) Only consider. I’faith, Phaedria, at the free
rate you are living with her, and indeed very freely you are living,
you have but little to give; and it’s necessary for Thais to receive a
good deal. That all this may be supplied for your amour and not at
your own expense, there is not an individual better suited or more
fitted for your purpose {than the Captain}. In the first place, he
both has got enough to give, and no one does give more profusely. He
is a fool, a dolt, a blockhead; night and day he snores away; and you
need not fear that the lady will fall in love with him; you may easily
have him discarded whenever you please.
CHÆ. (_to PHÆDRIA._) What shall we do?
GNA. And this besides, which I deem to be of even greater
importance,-- not a single person entertains in better style or more
bountifully.
CHÆ. It’s a wonder if this sort of man can not be made use of in some
way or other.
PHÆD. I think so too.
GNA. You act properly. One thing I have still to beg of you,-- that
you’ll receive me into your fraternity; I’ve been rolling that
stone[112] for a considerable time past.
PHÆD. We admit you.
CHÆ. And with all my heart.
GNA. Then I, in return for this, Phaedria, and you, Chaerea, make him
over to you[113] to be eaten and drunk to the dregs.
CHÆ. Agreed.
PHÆD. He quite deserves it.[114]
GNA. (_calling to THRASO._) Thraso, whenever you please, step this
way.
THRA. Prithee, how goes it?
GNA. How? {Why}, these people didn’t know you; after I had discovered
to them your qualities, and had praised you as your actions and your
virtues deserved, I prevailed upon them.
THRA. You have managed well; I give you my best thanks. Besides,
I never was any where but what all were extremely fond of me.
GNA. (_to PHÆDRIA and CHÆREA._) Didn’t I tell you that he was a master
of the Attic elegance?
PHÆD. He is no other than you mentioned. (_Pointing to his FATHER’S
house._) Walk this way. (_To the AUDIENCE._) Fare you well, and grant
us your applause.
FOOTNOTES
[Footnote 1: From λαγχάνω, “to obtain by lot” or “heirship.”]
[Footnote 2: From φαιδρὸς, “cheerful.”]
[Footnote 3: From χαίρων, “rejoicing.”]
[Footnote 4: From ἀντὶ, “opposite to,” and φῶς, “light,” or φῆμι,
“to speak.”]
[Footnote 5: From χρεμίζω, “to neigh;” delighting in horses.]
[Footnote 6: From θρασὸς, “boldness.”]
[Footnote 7: From γναθὸς, “the jawbone;” a glutton.]
[Footnote 8: From παρὰ, “by,” and μένω, “to remain.”]
[Footnote 9: From Sangia in Phrygia, his native country.]
[Footnote 10: From δόναξ, “a reed.”]
[Footnote 11: From σιμὸς, “flat-nosed.”]
[Footnote 12: From Syria, his country; or from συρίσκος,
“a basket of figs.”]
[Footnote 13: From θεάομαι, “to look at.”]
[Footnote 14: From πυθομένη, “asking questions.”]
[Footnote 15: From Doris, their country, a part of Caria.]
[Footnote 16: From σώφρων, “prudent.”]
[Footnote 17: From πᾶν, “all,” and φιλὸς, “a friend.”]
[Footnote 18: _The Title_)--Colman has the following remark on
this Play: “This seems to have been the most popular of all the
Comedies of Terence. Suetonius and Donatus both inform us that it
was acted with the greatest applause, and that the Poet received a
larger price for it from the Ædiles than had ever been paid for
any before, namely, 8000 sesterces, which is about equal to 200
crowns, which in those times was a considerable sum.”]
[Footnote 19: _Acted twice_)--This probably means “twice in one
day.” As it is generally supposed that something is wanting after
the figures II, this is presumed to be “die,” “in one day,” in
confirmation of which Suetonius informs us that it really was
performed twice in one day. Donatus says it was performed three
times, by which he may probably mean, twice on one day and once on
another.]
[Footnote 20: _Being Consuls_)--M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius
Strabo were Consuls in the year from the building of the City 591,
or B.C. 162.]
[Footnote 21: _If there is one who thinks_)--Ver. 4. He alludes to
his old enemy, Luscus Lavinius, the Comic Poet, who is alluded to
in the Prologue to the Andria, and has since continued his attacks
upon him.]
[Footnote 22: _By translating literally_)--Ver. 7. “Bene vertendo,
at eosdem scribendo male.” This passage has greatly puzzled some
of the Commentators. Bentley has, however, it appears, come to the
most reasonable conclusion; who supposes that Terence means by
“bene vertere,” a literal translation, word for word, from the
Greek, by which a servile adherence to the idiom of that language
was preserved to the neglect of the Latin idiom; in consequence of
which the Plays of Luscus Lavinius were, as he remarks, “male
scriptæ,” written in bad Latin.]
[Footnote 23: _Has published the Phasma_)--Ver. 9. The “Φασμά,” or
“Apparition,” was a play of Menander, so called, in which a young
man looking through a hole in the wall between his father’s house
and that next door, sees a young woman of marvelous beauty, and is
struck with awe at the sight, as though by an apparition; in the
Play, the girl’s mother is represented as having made this hole in
the wall, and having decked it with garlands and branches that it
may resemble a consecrated place; where she daily performs her
devotions in company with her daughter, who has been privately
brought up, and whose existence is unknown to the neighbors. On
the youth coming by degrees to the knowledge that the object of
his admiration is but a mortal, his passion becomes so violent
that it will admit of no cure but marriage, with the celebration
of which the Play concludes. Bentley gives us the above
information from an ancient Scholiast, whose name is unknown,
unless it is Donatus himself, which is doubtful. It would appear
that Luscus Lavinius had lately made a translation of this Play,
which, from its servile adherence to the language of the original,
had been couched in ungrammatical language, and probably not
approved of by the Audience. Donatus thinks that this is the
meaning of the passage, and that, content with this slight
reference to a well-known fact, the author passes it by in
contemptuous silence.]
[Footnote 24: _And in the Thesaurus has described_)--Ver. 10. Cook
has the following appropriate remark upon this passage: “In the
‘Thesaurus,’ or ‘Treasure’ of Luscus Lavinius, a young fellow,
having wasted his estate by his extravagance, sends a servant to
search his father’s monument: but he had before sold the ground on
which the monument was, to a covetous old man; to whom the servant
applies to help him open the monument; in which they discover a
hoard and a letter. The old fellow sees the treasure and keeps it;
the young one goes to law with him, and the old man is represented
as opening his cause first before the judge, which he begins with
these words:--
‘Athenienses, bellum cum Rhodiensibus,
Quod fuerit, quid ego prædicem?’
‘Athenians, why should I relate the war with the Rhodians?’ And he
goes on in a manner contrary to the rules of court; which Terence
objects to, because the young man, who was the plaintiff, should
open his cause first. Thus far Bentley, from the same Scholiast
[as referred to in the last Note]. This Note is a clear
explanation of the four verses to which it belongs. Hare concurs
with Madame Dacier in her opinion ‘de Thesauro,’ that it is only a
part of the Phasma of Menander, and not a distinct Play; but were
I not determined by the more learned Bentley, the text itself
would not permit me to be of their opinion; for the words ‘atque
in Thesauro scripsit’ seem plainly to me to be a transition to
another Play. The subject of the Thesaurus is related by
Eugraphius, though not with all the circumstances mentioned in my
Note from Bentley.” Colman also remarks here; “Menander and his
contemporary Philemon, each of them wrote a Comedy under this
title. We have in the above Note the story of Menander’s; and we
know that of Philemon’s from the ‘Trinummus’ of Plautus, which was
a Translation of it.”]
[Footnote 25: _Opportunity of viewing it_)--Ver. 21. Colman thinks
that this means something “stronger than merely being present at
the representation,” and he takes the meaning to be, that having
obtained leave to peruse the MS., he furnished himself with
objections against the piece, which he threw out when it came to
be represented before the magistrates. Cooke thinks that the
passage only means, “that he bustled and took pains to be near
enough at the representation to see and hear plainly.” The truth
seems to be that Lavinius managed to obtain admission at the
rehearsal or trial of the merits of the piece before the
magistrates, and that he then behaved himself in the unseemly
manner mentioned in the text.]
[Footnote 26: _Produced the piece, but still had not deceived
him_)--Ver. 24. There is a pun here upon the resemblance in
meaning of the words “verba dare” and “fabulam dare.” The first
expression means to “deceive” or “impose upon;” the latter phrase
has also the same meaning, but it may signify as well “to
represent” or “produce a Play.” Thus the exclamation in its
ambiguity may mean, “he has produced a Play, and has not succeeded
in deceiving us,” or “he has deceived us, and yet has not deceived
us.” This is the interpretation which Donatus puts upon the
passage.]
[Footnote 27: _Colax, an old Play of Plautus_)--Ver. 25. Although
Nonius Marcellus professes to quote from the Colax of Plautus (so
called from the Greek Κολὰξ, “a flatterer” or “parasite”), some
scholars have disbelieved in the existence of any Play of Plautus
known by that name. Cooke says: “If Plautus had wrote a Play under
the title of ‘Colax,’ I should think it very unlikely that it
should have escaped Terence’s eye, considering how soon he
flourished after Plautus, his being engaged in the same studies,
and his having such opportunities to consult the libraries of the
great; for though all learning was then confined to Manuscripts,
Terence could have no difficulty in coming at the best copies. The
character of the ‘Miles Gloriosus’ [Braggart Captain] here
mentioned, I am inclined to think the same with that which is the
hero of Plautus’s Comedy, now extant, and called ‘Miles
Gloriosus,’ from which Terence could not take his Thraso.
Pyrgopolinices and Thraso are both full of themselves, both boast
of their valor and their intimacy with princes, and both fancy
themselves beloved by all the women who see them; and they are
both played off by their Parasites, but they differ in their
manner and their speech: Plautus’s Pyrgopolinices is always in the
clouds, and talking big, and of blood and wounds-- Terence’s
Thraso never says too little nor much, but is an easy ridiculous
character, continually supplying the Audience with mirth without
the wild extravagant bluster of Pyrgopolinices; Plautus and
Terence both took their soldiers and Parasites from Menander, but
gave them different dresses.” Upon this Note Colman remarks:
“Though there is much good criticism in the above Note, it is
certain that Plautus did not take his ‘Miles Gloriosus’ from the
Colax of Menander, as he himself informs us it was translated from
a Greek play called Ἀλάζων, ‘the Boaster,’ and the Parasite is but
a trifling character in that play, never appearing after the first
Scene.”]
[Footnote 28: _Hurrying servants_)--Ver. 35. On the “currentes
servi,” see the Prologue to the Heautontimorumenos, l. 31. Ovid,
in the Amores, B. i., El. 15, l. 17, 18, mentions a very similar
combination of the characters of Menander’s Comedy: “So long as
the deceitful slave, the harsh father, the roguish procuress, and
the cozening courtesan shall endure, Menander will exist.”]
[Footnote 29: _What, then, shall I do?_)--Ver. 46. Phædria, on
being sent for by Thais, breaks out into those words as he enters,
after having deliberated upon his parting with her. Both Horace
and Persius have imitated this passage in their Satires.]
[Footnote 30: _What! I to her?_)--Ver. 65. Donatus remarks that
this is an abrupt manner of speaking familiarly to persons in
anger; and that the sentences are thus to be understood, “I, go to
her? Her, who has received him! Who has excluded me!”-- inasmuch
as indignation loves to deal in Ellipsis and Aposiopesis.]
[Footnote 31: _The downfall of our fortunes_)--Ver. 79. Colman
observes, “There is an extreme elegance in this passage in the
original; and the figurative expression is beautifully employed.”
“Calamitas” was originally a word used in husbandry, which
signified the destruction of growing corn; because, as Donatus
says, “Comminuit {calamum} et segetem;”-- “it strikes down the
blades and standing corn.”]
[Footnote 32: _Approach this fire_)--Ver. 85. “Ignem” is generally
supposed to be used figuratively here, and to mean “the flame of
love.” Eugraphius, however, would understand the expression
literally, observing that courtesans usually had near their doors
an altar sacred to Venus, on which they daily sacrificed.]
[Footnote 33: _Of course it’s because_)--Ver. 89. It must be
observed that these words, commencing with “Sane, quia vero,” in
the original, are said by Phædria not in answer to the words of
Thais immediately preceding, but to her previous question, “Cur
non recta introibas?” “Why didn’t you come into the house at
once?” and that they are spoken in bitter irony.]
[Footnote 34: _From Sunium_)--Ver. 115. This was a town situate
near a lofty Promontory of that name in Attica. It was famous for
a fair which was held there. “Sunium’s rocky brow” is mentioned by
Byron in the song of the Greek Captive in the third Canto of Don
Juan.]
[Footnote 35: _Set out for Caria_)--Ver. 126. This was a country
of Asia Minor upon the sea-coast, opposite to the island of
Rhodes.]
[Footnote 36: _Servant-maid from Æthiopia_)--Ver. 165. No doubt
Æthiopian or negro slaves were much prized by the great, and those
courtesans whose object it was to ape their manners.]
[Footnote 37: _Ladies of quality_)--Ver. 168. “Reginæ,” literally
“queens,” here means women of rank and distinction.]
[Footnote 38: _Paid twenty minæ_)--Ver. 169. The “minæ” contained
one hundred “drachmæ” of about 9¾_d._ each.]
[Footnote 39: _Ah wretched me!_)--Ver. 197. Donatus remarks that
the Poet judiciously reserves that part of the plot to be told
here, which Thais did not relate to Phædria in the presence of
Parmeno; whom the Poet keeps in ignorance as to the rank of the
damsel, that he may with the more probability dare to assist
Chærea in his attempt on her.]
[Footnote 40: _From the dispositions of other women_)--Ver. 198.
Donatus observes that this is one of the peculiar points of
excellence shown by Terence, introducing common characters in a
new manner, without departing from custom or nature; since he
draws a good Courtesan, and yet engages the attention of the
Spectators and amuses them. Colman has the following Note here:
“Under the name of Thais, Menander is supposed to have drawn the
character of his own mistress, Glycerium, and it seems he
introduced a Courtesan of the same name into several of his
Comedies. One Comedy was entitled ‘Thais,’ from which St. Paul
took the sentence in his Epistle to the Corinthians, ‘Evil
communications corrupt good manners.’” Plutarch has preserved four
lines of the Prologue to that Comedy, in which the Poet, in a kind
of mock-heroic manner, invokes the Muse to teach him to depict the
character of his heroine.]
[Footnote 41: _Not any one was there_)--Ver. 226-7. Very nearly
the same words as these occur in the Mostellaria of Plautus,
l. 29, 30: “Than whom, hitherto, no one of the youth of all Attica
has been considered more temperate or equally frugal.”]
[Footnote 42: _Nor submit to blows_)--Ver. 244. It has been
remarked in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus that the
Parasites had, in consequence of their state of dependence, to
endure blows and indignities from their fellow-guests. Their
attempts to be “ridiculi” or “drolls” were made in order to give
some small return to their entertainers. See especially the
character of Gelasimus in the Stichus of Plautus, and the words of
Ergasilus in the Captivi, l. 88, 90. Diderot, as quoted by Colman,
observes: “This is the only Scene in Terence which I remember that
can be charged with being superfluous. Thraso has made a present
to Thais of a young girl. Gnatho is to convey her. Going along
with her, he amuses himself with giving the Spectators a most
agreeable eulogium on his profession. But was that the time for
it? Let Gnatho pay due attention on the stage to the young woman
whom he is charged with, and let him say what he will to himself,
I consent to it.”]
[Footnote 43: _Fishmongers_)--Ver. 257. “Cetarii;” strictly
speaking, “dealers in large fish.”]
[Footnote 44: _Cooks_)--Ver. 257. The “coqui” were in the habit of
standing in the market-place for hire by those who required their
services. See the Pseudolus, the Aulularia, and the Mercator of
Plautus, and the Notes to Bohn’s Translation. See also a remark on
the knavish character of the sausage-makers in the Truculentus of
Plautus, l. 110]
[Footnote 45: _Become my follower_)--Ver. 262. “Sectari.” In
allusion to the manners of the ancient Philosophers, who were wont
to be followed by a crowd of their disciples, who were styled
“sectatores” and “sectæ.” Gnatho intends to found a new school of
Parasites, who shall be called the “Gnathonics,” and who, by their
artful adulation, shall contrive to be caressed instead of being
maltreated. Artotrogus, the Parasite in the Miles Gloriosus of
Plautus, seems, however, to have forestalled Gnatho as the founder
of this new school.]
[Footnote 46: _I’m standing_)--Ver. 271. “Quid agitur?” “Statur.”
The same joke occurs in the Pseudolus of Plautus, l. 457. “Quid
agitur? Statur hic ad hunc modum?” “What is going on?” or “What
are you about?” “About standing here in this fashion;” assuming an
attitude. Colman observes that there is much the same kind of
conceit in the “Merry Wives of Windsor.”
FALSTAFF. “My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.”
PISTOL. “Two yards or more.”
Cooke has the following note: “‘Quid agitur’ is to be supposed to
have a single meaning as spoken by Gnatho, but Parmeno archly
renders it ambiguous by his answer. Our two first English
translations, that by Bernard and that by Hoole, make nothing of
it, nor indeed any other part of their author. Echard follows
Madame Dacier, and perceives a joke; but he does not render ‘quid,
agitur’ as the question ought to be translated. ‘Quid agitur’
sometimes means, ‘What are you doing?’ Sometimes, ‘How do you do?’
‘How are you?’ or ‘How goes the world with you?’”]
[Footnote 47: _From the Piraeus_)--Ver. 290. The Piraeus was the
chief harbor of Athens, at the mouth of the Cephisus, about three
miles from the City. It was joined to the town by two walls, one
of which was built by Themistocles, and the other by Pericles. It
was the duty of the Athenian youth to watch here in turn by way of
precaution against surprise by pirates or the enemy.]
[Footnote 48: _In your little room_)--Ver. 310. Though “cellulam”
seems to be considered by some to mean “cupboard” or “larder,” it
is more probable that it here signifies the little room which was
appropriated to each slave in the family for his own use.]
[Footnote 49: _Shoulders kept down and chests well girthed_)--Ver.
314. Ovid, in the Art of Love, B. iii., l. 274, alludes to the
“strophium” or “girth” here referred to: “For high shoulders,
small pads are suitable; and let the girth encircle the bosom that
is too prominent.” Becker thinks that the “strophium” was
different from the “fascia” or “stomacher,” mentioned in the
Remedy of Love, l. 338: “Does a swelling bosom cover all her
breast, let no stomacher conceal it.” From Martial we learn that
the “strophium” was made of leather.]
[Footnote 50: _Training for a boxer_)--Ver. 315. “Pugilem.” This
means “robust as a boxer,” or “athlete.” These persons were
naturally considered as the types of robustness, being dieted for
the purpose of increasing their flesh and muscle.]
[Footnote 51: _Complexion genuine_)--Ver. 318. “Color verns.” The
same expression is used by Ovid, in the Art of Love, B. iii.,
l. 164: “Et melior vero quæritur arte color:” “And by art a color is
sought superior to the genuine one.”]
[Footnote 52: _Full of juiciness_)--Ver. 318. “Succi plenum.”
A similar expression occurs in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus,
l. 787, where Periplecomenus wishes inquiry to be made for a woman
who is “siccam, at sucedam,” “sober, but full of juice:” _i.e._
replete with the plumpness and activity of youth.]
[Footnote 53: _The very flower of youth_)--Ver. 319. Ovid makes
mention of the “flos” or “bloom” of youth, Art of Love, B. ii.,
l. 663: “And don’t you inquire what year she is now passing, nor
under what Consulship she was born; a privilege which the rigid
Censor possesses. And this, especially, if she has passed the
bloom of youth, and her best years are fled, and she now pulls out
the whitening hairs.”]
[Footnote 54: _Be my advocate_)--Ver. 340. “Advocatus.” It must be
remembered that this word did not among the Romans bear the same
sense as the word “advocate” does with us. The “advocati” were the
friends of a man who accompanied him when his cause was pleaded,
and often performed the part of witnesses; those who assisted a
person in a dispute or difficulty were also his “advocati,” and in
this respect distantly resembled the “second” or “friend” of a
party in the modern duel. In the Phormio, Hegio, Cratinus, and
Crito are introduced as the “advocati” of Demipho. See also the
Pænulus of Plautus, and the Notes to that Play in Bohn’s
Translation.]
[Footnote 55: _An hour elapsed_)--Ver. 341. “Hora” is here used to
signify the long time, that, in his impatience, it appeared to him
to be.]
[Footnote 56: _It’s all over with you,-- you’ve said your
last_)--Ver. 347. “Ilicet” and “conclamatnm est,” are words of
mournful import, which were used with regard to the funeral rites
of the Romans. “Ilicet,” “you may begone,” was said aloud when the
funeral was concluded. “Conclamare,” implied the ceremony of
calling upon the dead person by name, before light was act to the
funeral pile; on no answer being given, he was concluded to be
really dead, and the pile was set fire to amid the cries of those
present: “conclamatum est” would consequently signify that all
hope has gone.]
[Footnote 57: _Thais the Courtesan_)--Ver. 352. Cooke remarks
here, somewhat hypercritically as it would seem: “Thais is not
called ‘meretrix’ here opprobriously, but to distinguish her from
other ladies of the same name, who were not of the same
profession.”]
[Footnote 58: _A Eunuch_)--Ver. 356. Eunuchs formed part of the
establishment of wealthy persons, who, in imitation of the Eastern
nobles, confided the charge of their wives, daughters, or
mistresses to them. Though Thais would have no such necessity for
his services, her wish to imitate the “reginæ,” or “great ladies,”
would make him a not unacceptable present. See the Addresses of
Ovid to the Eunuch Bagoüs in the Amours, B. ii., El. 2, 3.]
[Footnote 59: _as she is reported to be_)--Ver. 361. Donatus
remarks this as an instance of the art of Terence, in preserving
the probability of Chærea’s being received for the Eunuch. He
shows hereby that he is so entirely a stranger to the family that
he does not even know the person of Thais. It is also added that
she has not been long in the neighborhood, and he has been on duty
at the Piraeus. The meaning of his regret is, that, not knowing
Thais, he will not have an opportunity of seeing the girl.]
[Footnote 60: _Have to pay the penalty_)--Ver. 381. “In me cadetur
faba,” literally, “the bean will be struck” or “laid about me;”
meaning, “I shall have to smart for it.” There is considerable
doubt what is the origin of this expression, and this doubt
existed as early as the time of Donatus. He says that it was a
proverb either taken from the threshing of beans with a flail by
the countrymen; or else from the circumstance of the cooks who
have dressed the beans, but have not moistened them sufficiently,
being sure to have them thrown at their heads, as though for the
purpose of softening them. Neither of these solutions seems so
probable as that suggested by Madame Dacier, that dried beans were
inserted in the thongs of the “scuticæ,” or “whips,” with which
the slaves were beaten. According to others the knots in the whips
were only called “fabæ,” from their resemblance to beans.]
[Footnote 61: _Is it disgraceful_)--Ver. 382. Donatus remarks that
here Terence obliquely defends the subject of the Play.]
[Footnote 62: _The most mighty King_)--Ver. 397. It has been
suggested that Darius III. is here alluded to, who was a
contemporary of Menander. As however Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, is
mentioned in this Play, there is no necessity to go out of the way
to make Terence guilty of an anachronism. Madame Dacier suggests
that Seleucus, king of part of Asia Minor, is meant; and as Thraso
is called “a stranger” or “foreigner” toward the end of the Play,
he probably was intended to be represented as a native of Asia and
a subject of Seleucus. One of the Seleuci was also favored with
the services of Pyrgopolinices, the “Braggart Captain” of Plantus,
in the Miles Gloriosus. See l. 75 in that Play: “For King Seleucus
entreated me with most earnest suit that I would raise and enlist
recruits for him.”]
[Footnote 63: _You’ve just hit it_)--Ver. 401. Colman here
remarks, quoting the following passage from Shakspeare’s “Love’s
Labor Lost,” “That that Poet was familiarly acquainted with this
Comedy is evident from the passage, ‘Holofernes says, _Novi
hominem tanquam te_. His humor is lofty, his discourse peremptory,
his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his
general behavior vain, ridiculous, and Thrasonical.’” We may
remark that the previous words of Gnatho, though spoken with
reference to the King, contain a reproach against the Captain’s
boastfulness, though his vanity will not let him perceive it.]
[Footnote 64: _In his eye_)--Ver. 401. “In oculis” is generally
supposed to mean “as dearly in his eyes.” As, however, the Satraps
of the East were called “the king’s eyes,” those who suppose that
Darius is alluded to, might with some ground consider the passage
as meaning that the king ranked him in the number of his nobles.
See the Pænulus of Plautus, l. 693, and the Note in Bohn’s
Translation.]
[Footnote 65: _You understand_)--Ver. 405. He says this at the
very moment when he is at a loss what to say next; the Parasite
obligingly steps in to help him out with the difficulty.]
[Footnote 66: _Indeed, of none_)--Ver. 410. “Immo, nullorum
arbitror, si tecum vivit.” This expression which is used “aside,”
has two meanings, neither of which is complimentary to the
Captain. It may mean, “he has no society if he associates with
you,” making the Captain equivalent to nobody; or it may signify,
“if he associates with you he’ll be sure to drive all his other
acquaintances away.”]
[Footnote 67: _Over the Indian elephants_)--Ver. 413. Here he
shows his lofty position to perfection; he dares to take down the
pride of one who commanded even the royal elephants. The Braggart
Captain of Plautus comes into collision with the elephants
themselves: l. 26. Artotrogus says to him, “In what a fashion it
was you broke the fore-leg of even an elephant in India with your
fist!”]
[Footnote 68: _Looking out for game?_)--Ver. 426. “Pulmentum,”
more strictly speaking, “A nice bit.” Patrick has the following
Note on this passage: “‘Lepus tute es, et pulmentum quæris?’
A proverbial expression in use at that time: the proper meaning of
it, stripped of its figure, is, ‘You are little more than a woman
yourself, and do you want a mistress?’” We learn from Donatus and
Vopiscus, that Livius Andronicus had used this proverb in his
Plays before Terence. Commentators who enter into a minute
explanation of it offer many conjectures rather curious than
solid, and of a nature not fit to be mentioned here. Donatus seems
to think that allusion is made to a story prevalent among the
ancient naturalists that the hare was in the habit of changing its
sex.]
[Footnote 69: _If, indeed, she loved me_)--Ver. 446. Colman has
the following Note upon this passage: “I am at a loss to determine
whether it was in order to show the absurdity of the Captain or
from inadvertence in the Poet, that Terence here makes Thraso and
Gnatho speak in contradiction to the idea of Thais’s wonderful
veneration for Thraso, with which they opened the Scene.”]
[Footnote 70: _In exercises_)--Ver. 477. Reference will be found
made to the “palæstræ,” or “places of exercise,” in the Notes to
the Translation of Plautus.]
[Footnote 71: _If occasion served_)--Ver. 479. The Aposiopesis in
this line is very aptly introduced, on account of the presence of
the female; but it admirably illustrates the abominable turpitude
of the speaker, and perhaps in a somewhat more decent manner than
that in which Plautus attributes a similar tendency to his
Braggart Captain, l. 1111.]
[Footnote 72: _Out of the very flames_)--Ver. 491. This was a
proverb expressive of the lowest degree of meanness and infamy.
When they burned the bodies of the dead, it was the custom of the
ancients to throw meat and various articles of food upon the
funeral pile, and it was considered the greatest possible affront
to tell a person that he was capable of snatching these things out
of the flames.]
[Footnote 73: _If Chremes should happen to come_)--Ver. 513. This
is the first allusion to the arrangement which ultimately causes
the quarrel between Thais and the Captain.]
[Footnote 74: _Had been offering a sacrifice_)--Ver. 513. It was
the custom to sacrifice before entering on affairs of importance.
Thus, too, Jupiter, in the Amphitryon of Plautus, l. 938, speaks
of offering sacrifice on his safe return.]
[Footnote 75: _Our rings were given_)--Ver. 541. It was the custom
of parties who agreed to join in a “symbola,” or “club” or
“picnic” entertainment, to give their rings as pledges to the “rex
convivii,” or “getter up the feast.” Stakes were also deposited on
making bets at races. See Ovid’s Art of Love, B. i., l. 168.]
[Footnote 76: _To meet my death_)--Ver. 550. There is a passage in
the Othello of Shakspeare extremely similar to this:
--“If I were now to die,
I were now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort, like to this,
Succeeds in unknown fate.”]
[Footnote 77: _In the inner apartments_)--Ver. 579. The “Gynecæa,”
or women’s apartments, among the Greeks, always occupied the
interior part of the house, which was most distant from the
street, and there they were kept in great seclusion.]
[Footnote 78: _A few novices of girls_)--Ver. 582. These “noviciæ”
were young slaves recently bought, and intended to be trained to
the calling of a Courtesan.]
[Footnote 79: _At a certain painting_)--Ver. 584. See the story of
Jupiter and Danaë, the daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos, in the
Metamorphoses of Ovid, B. iv., l. 610. Pictures of Venus and
Adonis, and of Jupiter and Ganymede, are mentioned in the Menæchmi
of Plautus; l. 144, and paintings on the walls are also mentioned
in the Mostellaria of Plantus, l. 821, where Tranio tries to
impose upon Theuropides by pretending to point out a picture of a
crow between two vultures.]
[Footnote 80: _How Jove_)--Ver. 584. Donatus remarks here that
this was “a very proper piece of furniture for the house of a
Courtesan, giving an example of loose and mercenary love,
calculated to excite wanton thoughts, and at the same time hinting
to the young lover that he must make his way to the bosom of his
mistress, like Jupiter to Danaë, in a shower of gold. Oh the
avarice of harlots!”]
[Footnote 81: _A poor creature of a mortal_)--Ver. 591.
“Homuncio.” He uses this word the better to contrast his abject
nature as a poor mortal with the majesty of Jupiter. St. Augustin
refers to this passage. The preceding line is said by Donatus to
be a parody on a passage by Ennius.]
[Footnote 82: _Take this fan_)--Ver. 595. As to the fans of the
ancients, see the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 252, and the Note to
the passage in Bohn’s Translation. See also the Amours of Ovid, B.
iii., El. 2, l. 38.]
[Footnote 83: _Chattered aloud_)--Ver. 600. This line bears a
strong resemblance to two lines found in Anstey’s new Bath Guide:
“And how the young ladies all set up their clacks,
All the while an old woman was rubbing their backs.”]
[Footnote 84: _I slily looked askance_)--Ver. 601. This way of
looking aside, “limis,” is mentioned in the Miles Gloriosus of
Plautus, where Milphidippa tells Acroteleutium to look at the
Captain sideways, “Aspicito limis,” l. 1217; also in the
Bacchides, l. 1131. Those familiar with the works of Hogarth will
readily call to mind the picture of Bedlam in the Rake’s Progress,
whore the young woman is looking askance through her fan at the
madman in his cell.]
[Footnote 85: _Through the fan_)--Ver. 602. This shows that the
fan was probably one made of thin boards, and not of feathers.]
[Footnote 86: _So short-lived_)--Ver. 605. Colman has the
following Note here: “Short indeed, considering the number of
incidents, which, according to Chærea’s relation, are crowded into
it. All the time allowed for this adventure is the short space
between the departure of Thais and Thraso and the entrance of
Chærea; so that all this variety of business of sleeping, bathing,
ravishing, &c., is dispatched during the two soliloquies of
Antipho and Chærea, and the short Scene between Chremes and
Pythias. The truth is, that a very close adherence to the unities
often drives the Poet into as great absurdities as the perfect
violation of them.”]
[Footnote 87: _Took off her golden jewels_)--Ver. 627. This was
probably because it was contrary to the laws of Athens for a
Courtesan to appear with gold or jewels in the street. Madame
Dacier suggests another reason, in which there is some force,
although it is ridiculed by Cooke. Thais may have supposed that
the Captain, when irritated, might not have scrupled to take them
away from her. Indeed, nothing would be more probable, than that
he would be ready to take them by way of security for the return
of the slave, whom he had thus, to no purpose, presented to her.
In reference to the preceding line, we may remark that it was not
customary among the Greeks for females of good character to appear
at table with strangers.]
[Footnote 88: _While I was going_)--Ver. 629. Donatus remarks that
here the Poet artfully finds a reason to bring Phædria back again;
as he at first with equal art sent him out of the way, to give
probability to those incidents necessary to happen in his
absence.]
[Footnote 89: _At a distance_)--Ver. 640. “Extremâ lineâ.” There
have been many suggestions offered for the origin of this
figurative expression. Some suggest that it alludes to the last or
lowest stage of the supposed ladder of love; others that it refers
to the first or elementary line traced by the student, when
beginning to learn the art of painting. It is however more
generally thought to be a metaphor taken from the chariot-races in
the Circus, where, in going round the turning-place, he who was
nearest was said “currere in primâ lineâ;” the next, “in secundâ;”
and so on to the last, who took the widest range, and was said to
run “in extremâ lineâ.”]
[Footnote 90: _In party-colored clothes_)--Ver. 683. It was the
custom to dress Eunuchs in party-colored clothes of bright hue.
Most probably it was from them that the “motley” descended to the
fools and buffoons of the Middle Ages.]
[Footnote 91: _With a speckled complexion_)--Ver. 689. “Colore
stellionino;” probably having spots or freckles on his face like a
“stellio” or “lizard.”]
[Footnote 92: _Have done a service to her_)--Ver. 722. Though some
would have “illi” here to refer to the damsel, and others again to
Phædria, it is pretty clear that Madame Dacier is right in
suggesting that Thais is the person meant.]
[Footnote 93: _Casket with the tokens_)--Ver. 752. It was the
custom with the ancients when they exposed their children, to
leave with them some pledge or token of value, that they might
afterward be recognized by means of them. The catastrophes of the
Curculio, the Rudens, and other Plays of Plautus, are brought
about by taking advantage of this circumstance. The reasons for
using these tokens will be stated in a future Note.]
[Footnote 94: _Is a foreigner_)--Ver. 758. And therefore the more
unlikely to obtain redress from an Athenian tribunal. See the
Andria, l. 811, and the Note to the passage.]
[Footnote 95: _And his maniple_)--Ver. 775. We learn from the
Fasti of Ovid, B. iii., l. 117-8, that in early times the Roman
armies carried bundles or wisps of hay upon poles by way of
standards. “A long pole used to bear the elevated wisps, from
which circumstance the manipular soldier derives his name.” It
appears from this passage, and from other authors, that to every
troop of one hundred men a “manipulus” or wisp of hay (so called
from “manum implere,” to “fill the hand,” as being “a handful”),
was assigned as a standard, and hence in time the company itself
obtained the name of “manipulus,” and the soldier, a member of it,
was called “manipularis.” The “centurio,” or “leader of a
hundred,” was the commanding officer of the “manipulus.”]
[Footnote 96: _With a dish-clout_)--Ver. 776. “Peniculo.” This
word meant a sponge fastened to a stick, or the tail of a fox or
an ox, which was used as dusters or dish-clouts are at the present
day for cleaning tables, dishes, or even shoes. See the Menæchmi
of Plautus, ver. 77 and 391.]
[Footnote 97: _Be behind the second rank_)--Ver. 780. “Post
principia.” The Captain, with that discretion which is the better
part of valor, chooses the safest place in his army. The
“principes” originally fought in the van, fronting the enemy, and
behind them were the “hastati” and the “triarii.” In later times
the “hastati” faced the enemy, and the “principes” were placed in
the middle, between them and the “triarii;” but though no longer
occupying the front place, they still retained the name. Thraso,
then, places himself behind the middle line.]
[Footnote 98: _Pyrrhus used to proceed_)--Ver. 782. He attempts to
defend his cowardice by the example of Pyrrhus, the powerful
antagonist of the Romans, and one of the greatest generals of
antiquity. He might have more correctly cited the example of
Xerxes, who, according to Justin, did occupy that position in his
army.]
[Footnote 99: _I could very much_)--Ver. 785. Although Vollbehr
gives these words to Gnatho, yet, judging from the context, and
the words “ex occulto,” and remembering that Thais and Chremes are
up at the window, there is the greatest probability that these are
really the words of Thais addressed aside to Chremes.]
[Footnote 100: _You gallows-bird_)--Ver. 797. “Furcifer;”
literally, “bearer of the furca.”]
[Footnote 101: _As befits gallant soldiers_)--Ver. 814. Beaumont
and Fletcher not improbably had this scene in view in their
picture of the mob regiment in Philaster. The ragged regiment
which Shakspeare places under the command of Falstaff was not very
unlike it, nor that which owned the valiant Bombastes Furioso as
its Captain.]
[Footnote 102: _At Antipho’s_)--Ver. 839. Madame Dacier here
observes that Chærea assigns very natural reasons for not having
changed his dress; in which the art of Terence is evident, since
the sequel of the Play makes it absolutely necessary that Chærea
should appear again before Thais in the habit which he wore while
in the house.]
[Footnote 103: _Pick daintily about_)--Ver. 935. He seems here to
reprehend the same practice against which Ovid warns his fair
readers, in his Art of Love, B. iii. l. 75. He says, “Do not first
take food at home,” when about to go to an entertainment.
Westerhovius seems to think that “ligurio” means, not to “pick
daintily,” but “to be fond of good eating;” and refers to the
Bacchides of Plautus as portraying courtesans of the “ligurient”
kind, and finds another specimen in Bacchis in the
Heautontimorumenos.]
[Footnote 104: _This advantage_)--Ver. 970. Donatus here observes
that the Poet introduces Laches, as he has Parmeno just before, in
a state of perfect tranquillity, that their sudden change of
feeling may be the more diverting to the Audience.]
[Footnote 105: _For some occasion_)--Ver. 999. We learn from
Donatus that Menander was more explicit concerning the resentment
of Laches against Thais, on account of her having corrupted
Phædria.]
[Footnote 106: _As I knew_)--Ver. 1003. She enjoyed it the more,
knowing that the old man had nothing to fear, as he had just heard
the fiction which she had imparted to Parmeno. Donatus observes
that the terror of Laches accounts for his sudden consent to the
union of Chærea with Pamphila; for though he could not settle the
matter any other way with credit, he was glad to find that his son
had made an unequal match rather than endangered his life. Colman,
however, observes with considerable justice: “I think Chærea
apologizes still better for this arrangement in the Scene with
Thais at the opening of this Act, where he says that he is
confident of obtaining his father’s consent, provided Pamphila
proves to be a citizen; and, indeed, the match between them is
rather a reparation of an injury done to her than a degradation of
himself.”]
[Footnote 107: _In return for that present of yours_)--Ver. 1022.
By the present she means Chærea in the disguise of the Eunuch.]
[Footnote 108: _Through betrayal of myself_)--Ver. 1023. Which
betrays itself by its own squeaking.]
[Footnote 109: _Hercules served Omphale_)--Ver. 1026. He alludes
to the story of Omphale, Queen of Lydia, and Hercules. Being
violently in love with her, the hero laid aside his club and
boar’s skin, and in the habit of a woman plied the spindle and
distaff with her maids. See a curious story of Omphale, Hercules,
and Faunus, in the Fasti of Ovid, B. ii. l. 305. As to the
reappearance of Thraso here, Colman has the following remarks:
“Thraso, says Donatus, is brought back again in order to be
admitted to some share in the good graces of Thais, that he may
not be made unhappy at the end of the Play; but surely it is an
essential part of the poetical justice of Comedy to expose
coxcombs to ridicule and to punish them, though without any
shocking severity, for their follies.”]
[Footnote 110: _With a slipper_)--Ver. 1027. He doubtless alludes
to the treatment of Hercules by Omphale; and, according to Lucian,
there was a story that Omphale used to beat him with her slipper
or sandal. On that article of dress, see the Notes to the
Trinummus of Plautus, l. 252.]
[Footnote 111: _To the patronage of my father_)--Ver. 1038. It was
the custom at Athens for strangers, such as Thais was, to put
themselves under the protection (in clientelam) of some wealthy
citizen, who, as their patron, was bound to protect them against
injury. An exactly parallel case to the present is found in the
Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 799, where the wealthy
Periplecomenus says, “Habeo, eccillam, meam clientam, meretricem
adolescentulam.” “Why, look, I have one, a dependent of mine,
a courtesan, a very young woman.”]
[Footnote 112: _Been rolling that stone_)--Ver. 1084. Donatus
thinks that he alludes to the story of Sisyphus, who, in the
Infernal Regions, was condemned eternally to roll a stone up a
hill, which, on arriving at the summit, immediately fell to the
bottom.]
[Footnote 113: _Make him over to you_)--Ver. 1086. “Vobis
propino.” The word “propino” was properly applied to the act of
tasting a cup of wine, and then handing it to another; he means
that he has had his taste of the Captain, and is now ready to hand
him over to them.]
[Footnote 114: _He quite deserves it_)--Ver. 1087. Cooke has the
following appropriate remark: “I can not think that this Play,
excellent as it is in almost all other respects, concludes
consistently with the manners of gentlemen; there is a meanness in
Phædria and Chærea consenting to take Thraso into their society,
with a view of fleecing him, which the Poet should have avoided.”]
* * * * *
* * * *
HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS;
THE SELF-TORMENTOR.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
CHREMES,[1] an old gentleman, living in the country.
MENEDEMUS,[2] an old gentleman, his neighbor.
CLINIA,[3] son of Menedemus.
CLITIPHO,[4] son of Chremes.
DROMO,[5] son of Clinia.
SYRUS,[6] servant of Clitipho.
SOSTRATA,[7] wife of Chremes.
ANTIPHILA,[8] a young woman beloved by Clinia.
BACCHIS,[9] a Courtesan, the mistress of Clitipho.
The Nurse of Antiphila.
PHRYGIA,[10] maid-servant to Bacchis.
_Scene._--In the country, near Athens; before the houses of CHREMES
and MENEDEMUS.
THE SUBJECT.
CHREMES commands his wife, when pregnant, if she is delivered of a
girl immediately to kill the child. Having given birth to a girl,
Sostrata delivers her to an old woman named Philtera to be exposed.
Instead of doing this, Philtera calls her Antiphila, and brings her up
as her own. Clinia, the son of Menedemus, falls in love with her, and
treats her as though his wife. Menedemus, on learning this, is very
angry, and by his harsh language drives away his son from home. Taking
this to heart, and in order to punish himself for his ill-timed
severity, Menedemus, though now an aged man, fatigues himself by
laboring at agricultural pursuits from morning till night. At the
period when the Play commences, Clinia has just returned to Attica,
but not daring to go to his father’s house, is entertained by
Clitipho, the son of Chremes, who is the neighbor of Menedemus.
Clitipho then sends for Antiphila, whose supposed mother has recently
died, to come and meet her lover. On the same day, Chremes learns from
Menedemus how anxious he is for his son’s return; and on hearing from
his son of the arrival of Clinia, he defers informing Menedemus of it
until the next day. Syrus, the servant who has been sent to fetch
Antiphila, also brings with him Bacchis, an extravagant Courtesan, the
mistress of Clitipho. To conceal the truth from Chremes, they
represent to him that Bacchis is the mistress of Clinia, and that
Antiphila is one of her maids. Next morning Chremes informs Menedemus
of his son’s arrival, and of the extravagant conduct of his mistress,
but begs that he will conceal from Clinia his knowledge of this fact.
Bacchis requiring ten minæ, Syrus devises a plan for obtaining the
money from Chremes, while the latter is encouraging him to think of a
project against Menedemus. Syrus tells him a story, that the mother of
Antiphila had borrowed a thousand drachmæ of Bacchis, and being dead,
the girl is left in her hands as a pledge for the money. While these
things are going on, Sostrata discovers in Antiphila her own daughter.
In order to obtain the money which Bacchis persists in demanding,
Syrus suggests to Chremes that it should be represented to Menedemus
that Bacchis is the mistress of Clitipho, and that he should be
requested to conceal her in his house for a few days; it is also
arranged that Clinia shall pretend to his father to be in love with
Antiphila, and to beg her as his wife. He is then to ask for money, as
though for the wedding, which is to be handed over to Bacchis. Chremes
does not at first approve of the plan suggested by Syrus; but he pays
down the money for which he has been informed his daughter is a pledge
in the hands of Bacchis. This, with his knowledge, is given to
Clitipho, who, as Syrus says, is to convey it to Bacchis, who is now
in the house of Menedemus, to make the latter more readily believe
that she is his mistress. Shortly after this, the plot is discovered
by Chremes, who threatens to punish Clitipho and Syrus. The Play
concludes with Chremes giving his consent to the marriage of Clinia
with Antiphila, and pardoning Clitipho, who promises to abandon the
Courtesan, and marry. Unlike the other Plays of Terence and Plautus,
the Plot of this Play extends over two days.
THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
It is from the Greek of Menander. Performed at the Megalensian Games;
Lucius Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius Valerius Flaccus being Curule
Ædiles. Ambivius Turpio performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of
Claudius, composed the music. The first time it was performed to the
music of treble and bass flutes; the second time, of two treble
flutes. It was acted three times; Marcus Juventius and Titus
Sempronius being Consuls.[11]
HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS;
THE SELF-TORMENTOR.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
A severe father compels his son Clinia, in love with Antiphila, to go
abroad to the wars; and repenting of what has been done, torments
himself in mind. Afterward, when he has returned, unknown to his
father, he is entertained at the house of Clitipho. The latter is in
love with Bacchis, a Courtesan. When Clinia sends for his much-loved
Antiphila, Bacchis comes, as though his mistress, and Antiphila,
wearing the garb of her servant; this is done in order that Clitipho
may conceal it from his father. He, through the stratagems of Syrus,
gets ten minæ from the old man for the Courtesan. Antiphila is
discovered to be the sister of Clitipho. Clinia receives her, {and}
Clitipho, another woman, for his wife.
THE PROLOGUE.
Lest it should be a matter of surprise to any one of you, why the Poet
has assigned to an old man[12] a part that belongs to the young, that
I will first explain to you;[13] and then, the reason for my coming I
will disclose. An entire Play from an entire Greek one,[14] the
Heautontimorumenos, I am to-day about to represent, which from a
two-fold plot[15] has been made but one. I have shown that it is new,
and what it is: next I would mention who it was that wrote it, and
whose in Greek it is, if I did not think that the greater part of you
are aware. Now, for what reason I have learned this part, in a few
words I will explain. {The Poet} intended me to be a Pleader,[16] not
the Speaker of a Prologue; your decision he asks, {and} has appointed
me the advocate; if this advocate can avail as much by his oral powers
as he has excelled in inventing happily, who composed this speech
which I am about to recite. For as to malevolent rumors spreading
abroad that he has mixed together many Greek Plays while writing a few
Latin ones, he does not deny that this is the case, and that he does
not repent {of so doing}; and he affirms that he will do so again. He
has the example of good {Poets}; after which example he thinks it is
allowable for him to do what they have done. Then, as to a malevolent
old Poet[17] saying that he has suddenly applied himself to dramatic
pursuits, relying on the genius of his friends,[18] {and} not his own
natural abilities; {on that} your judgment, your opinion, will
prevail. Wherefore I do entreat you all, that the suggestions of our
antagonists may not avail more than {those} of our favorers. Do you be
favorable; grant the means of prospering to those who afford you the
means of being spectators of new Plays; {those, I mean}, without
faults: that he may not suppose this said in his behalf who lately
made the public give way to a slave as he ran along in the street;[19]
why should he take a madman’s part? About his faults he will say more
when he brings out some other new ones, unless he puts an end to his
caviling. Attend with favorable feelings; grant me the opportunity
that I may be allowed to act a quiet Play[20] in silence; that the
servant everlastingly running about, the angry old man, the gluttonous
parasite, the impudent sharper, {and} the greedy procurer, may not
have always to be performed by me with the utmost expense of voice,
{and} the greatest exertion. For my sake come to the conclusion that
this request is fair, that so some portion of my labor may be
abridged. For nowadays, those who write new {Plays} do not spare an
aged man. If there is any {piece} requiring exertion, they come
running to me; but if it is a light one, it is taken to another
Company. In the present one the style is pure. Do you make proof,
what, in each character,[21] my ability can effect. If I have never
greedily set a {high} price upon my skill, and have come to the
conclusion that this is my greatest gain, as far as possible to be
subservient to your convenience, establish in me a precedent, that the
young may be anxious rather to please you than themselves.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.
_Enter CHREMES, and MENEDEMUS with a spade in his hand, who falls to
digging._
CHREM. Although this acquaintanceship between us is of very recent
date, from the time in fact of your purchasing an estate here in the
neighborhood, yet either your good qualities, or our being neighbors
(which I take to be a sort of friendship), induces me to inform you,
frankly and familiarly, that you appear to me to labor beyond your
years, and beyond what your affairs require. For, in the name of Gods
and men, what would you have? What can be your aim? You are, as I
conjecture, sixty years of age, or more. No man in these parts has a
better or a more valuable estate, no one more servants; and yet you
discharge their duties just as diligently as if there were none at
all. However early in the morning I go out, and however late in the
evening I return home, I see you either digging, or plowing, or doing
something, in fact, in the fields. You take respite not an instant,
and are quite regardless of yourself. I am very sure that this is not
done for your amusement. But really I am vexed how little work is done
here.[22] If you were to employ the time you spend in laboring
yourself, in keeping your servants at work, you would profit much
more.
MEN. Have you so much leisure, Chremes, from your own affairs, that
you can attend to those of others-- those which don’t concern you?
CHREM. I am a man,[23] {and} nothing that concerns a man do I deem a
matter of indifference to me. Suppose that I wish either to advise
{you} in this matter, or to be informed {myself}: if {what you do} is
right, that I may do the same; if it is not, {then} that I may
dissuade you.
MEN. It’s requisite for me {to do} so; do you as it is necessary for
you to do.
CHREM. Is it requisite for any person to torment himself?
MEN. {It is} for me.
CHREM. If you have any affliction, I could wish it otherwise. But
prithee, what sorrow is this {of yours}? How have you deserved so
{ill} of yourself?
MEN. Alas! alas! (_He begins to weep._)
CHREM. Do not weep, but make me acquainted with it, whatever it is. Do
not be reserved; fear nothing; trust me, I tell you. Either by
consolation, or by counsel, or by any means, I will aid you.
MEN. Do you wish to know this matter?
CHREM. Yes, and for the reason I mentioned to you.
MEN. I will tell you.
CHREM. But still, in the mean time, lay down that rake; don’t fatigue
yourself.
MEN. By no means.
CHREM. What can be your object? (_Tries to take the rake from him._)
MEN. Do leave me alone, that I may give myself no respite from my
labor.
CHREM. I will not allow it, I tell you. (_Taking the rake from him._)
MEN. Ah! that’s not fair.
CHREM. (_poising the rake._) Whew! such a heavy one as this, pray!
MEN. Such are my deserts.
CHREM. Now speak. (_Laying down the rake._)
MEN. I have an only son,-- a young man,-- alas! why did I say
--“I have?”-- rather {I should say}, “I had” {one}, Chremes:
--whether I have him now, or not, is uncertain.
CHREM. Why so?
MEN. You shall know:-- There is a poor old woman here, a stranger from
Corinth:-- her daughter, a young woman, he fell in love with, insomuch
that he almost regarded her as his wife; all this {took place} unknown
to me. When I discovered the matter, I began to reprove him, not with
gentleness, nor in the way suited to the love-sick mind of a youth,
but with violence, and after the usual method of fathers. I was daily
reproaching him,-- “Look you, do you expect to be allowed any longer
to act thus, myself, your father, being alive; to be keeping a
mistress pretty much as though your wife? You are mistaken, Clinia,
and you don’t know me, if you fancy that. I am willing that you should
be called my {son}, just as long as you do what becomes you; but if
you do not do so, I shall find out how it becomes me to act toward
you. This arises from nothing, in fact, but too much idleness. At your
time of life, I did not devote my time to dalliance, but, in
consequence of my poverty, departed hence for Asia, and there acquired
in arms both riches and military glory.” At length the matter came to
this,-- the youth, from hearing the same things so often, and with
such severity, was overcome. He supposed that I, through age and
affection, had more judgment and foresight for him than himself. He
went off to Asia, Chremes, to serve under the king.
CHREM. What is it you say?
MEN. He departed without my knowledge-- {and} has been gone these
three months.
CHREM. Both are to be blamed-- although {I} still {think} this step
shows an ingenuous and enterprising disposition.
MEN. When I learned {this} from those who were in the secret,
I returned home sad, and with feelings almost overwhelmed and
distracted through grief. I sit down; my servants run to me; they take
off my shoes:[24] then some make all haste to spread the couches,[25]
and to prepare a repast; each according to his ability did zealously
{what he could}, in order to alleviate my sorrow. When I observed
this, I began to reflect thus:-- “What! are so many persons anxious
for my sake alone, to pleasure myself only? Are so many female
servants to provide me with dress?[26] Shall I alone keep up such an
expensive establishment, while my only son, who ought equally, or even
more so, to enjoy these things-- inasmuch as his age is better suited
for the enjoyment of them-- him, poor {youth}, have I driven away from
home by my severity! Were I to do this, really I should deem myself
deserving of any calamity. But so long as he leads this life of
penury, banished from his country through my severity, I will revenge
his wrongs upon myself, toiling, making money, saving, and laying up
for him.” At once I set about it; I left nothing in the house, neither
movables[27] nor clothing; every thing I scraped together. Slaves,
male and female, except those who could easily pay for their keep by
working in the country, all of them I set up to auction and sold. I at
once put up a bill to sell my house.[28] I collected somewhere about
fifteen talents, and purchased this farm; here I fatigue myself.
I have come to this conclusion, Chremes, that I do my son a less
injury, while I am unhappy; and that it is not right for me to enjoy
any pleasure here, until such time as he returns home safe to share
{it} with me.
CHREM. I believe you to be of an affectionate disposition toward your
children,[29] and him to be an obedient {son}, if one were to manage
him rightly or prudently. But neither did you understand him
sufficiently well, nor he you-- a thing that happens where persons
don’t live on terms of frankness together. You never showed him how
highly you valued him, nor did he {ever} dare put that confidence in
you which is due to a father. Had this been done, these {troubles}
would never have befallen you.
MEN. Such is the fact, I confess; the greatest fault is on my side.
CHREM. But still, Menedemus, I hope for the best, and I trust that
he’ll be here safe before long.
MEN. Oh that the Gods would grant it!
CHREM. They will do {so}. Now, if it is convenient {to you}-- the
festival of Bacchus[30] is being kept here to-day-- I wish you to give
me your company.
MEN. I can not.
CHREM. Why not? Do, pray, spare yourself a little while. Your absent
son would wish you do so.
MEN. It is not right that I, who have driven him hence to endure
hardships, should now shun them myself.
CHREM. Is such your determination?
MEN. It is.
CHREM. {Then} kindly fare you well.
MEN. And you {the same}. (_Goes into his house._)
SCENE II.
_CHREMES, alone._
CHREM. (_to himself._) He has forced tears from me, and I do pity him.
But as the day is far gone, I must remind Phania, this neighbor {of
mine}, to come to dinner. I’ll go see whether he is at home. (_Goes to
PHANIA’S door, makes the inquiry, and returns._) There was no occasion
for me to remind him: they tell me he has been some time already at my
house; it’s I myself am making my guests wait. I’ll go in-doors
immediately. But what means the noise at the door of my house?
I wonder who’s coming out! I’ll step aside here. (_He stands aside._)
SCENE III.
_Enter CLITIPHO, from the house of CHREMES._
CLIT. (_at the door, to CLINIA within._) There is nothing, Clinia, for
you to fear as yet: they have not been long by any means: and I am
sure that she will be with you presently along with the messenger. Do
at once dismiss these causeless apprehensions which are tormenting
you.
CHREM. (_apart._) Who is my son talking to? (_Makes his appearance._)
CLIT. (_to himself._) Here comes my father, whom I wished {to see}:
I’ll accost him. Father, you have met me opportunely.
CHREM. What is the matter?
CLIT. Do you know this neighbor of ours, Menedemus?
CHREM. Very well.
CLIT. Do you know that he has a son?
CHREM. I have heard that he has; in Asia.
CLIT. He is not {in Asia}, father; he is at our house.
CHREM. What is it you say?
CLIT. Upon his arrival, after he had {just} landed from the ship,
I immediately brought him to dine with us; for from our very childhood
upward I have always been on intimate terms with him.
CHREM. You announce {to me} a great pleasure. How much I wish that
Menedemus had accepted my invitation to make one of us: that at my
house I might have been the first to surprise him, when not expecting
it, with this delight! --and even yet there’s time enough----
CLIT. Take care what you do; there is no necessity, father, {for doing
so}.
CHREM. For what reason?
CLIT. Why, because he is as yet undetermined what to do with himself.
He is but just arrived. He fears every thing; his father’s
displeasure, and how his mistress may be disposed toward him. He loves
her to distraction: on her account, this trouble and going abroad took
place.
CHREM. I know it.
CLIT. He has just sent a servant into the city to her, and I {ordered}
our Syrus {to go} with him.
CHREM. What does {Clinia} say?
CLIT. What {does} he {say}? That he is wretched.
CHREM. Wretched? Whom could we less suppose so? What is there wanting
for him to enjoy every thing that among men, in fact, are esteemed as
blessings? Parents, a country in prosperity, friends, family,
relations, riches? And yet, {all} these are just according to the
disposition of him who possesses them. To him who knows how to use
them, they are blessings; to him who does not use them rightly, {they
are} evils.
CLIT. Aye, but he always was a morose old man; and now I dread nothing
more, father, than that in his displeasure he’ll be doing something to
him more than is justifiable.
CHREM. What, he? (_Aside._) But I’ll restrain myself; for that the
other one should be in fear of {his father} is of service to him.[31]
CLIT. What is it you are saying to yourself!
CHREM. I’ll tell you. However the case stood, {Clinia} ought still to
have remained {at home}. Perhaps his father was a little stricter than
he liked: he should have put up with it. For whom ought he to bear
with, if he would not bear with his own father? Was it reasonable that
he should live after his {son’s} humor, or {his son} after his? And as
to charging him with harshness, it is not the fact. For the severities
of fathers are generally of one character, those {I mean} who are in
some degree reasonable men.[32] They do not wish their sons to be
always wenching; they do not wish them to be always carousing; they
give a limited allowance; and yet all this tends to virtuous conduct.
But when the mind, Clitipho, has once enslaved itself by vicious
appetites, it must of necessity follow similar pursuits. This is a
wise maxim, “to take warning from others of what may be to your own
advantage.”
CLIT. I believe so.
CHREM. I’ll now go hence in-doors, to see what we have for dinner. Do
you, seeing what is the time of day, mind and take care not to be any
where out of the way. (_Goes into his house, and exit CLITIPHO._)
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.
_Enter CLITIPHO._
CLIT. (_to himself._) What partial judges are all fathers in regard to
all {of us} young men, in thinking it reasonable for us to become old
men all at once from boys, and not to participate in those things
which youth is {naturally} inclined to. They regulate us by their own
desires,-- such as they now are,-- not as they once were. If ever I
have a son, he certainly shall find in me an indulgent father. For the
means both of knowing and of pardoning[33] his faults shall be found
{by me}; not like mine, who by means of another person, discloses to
me his own sentiments. I’m plagued to death,-- when he drinks a little
more {than usual}, what pranks of his own he does relate to me! Now he
says, “Take warning from others of what may be to your advantage.” How
shrewd! He certainly does not know how deaf I am at the moment when
he’s telling his stories. Just now, the words of my mistress make more
impression upon me. “Give me {this}, and bring me {that},” {she
cries}; I have nothing to say to her in answer, and no one is there
more wretched than myself. But this Clinia, although he, as well, has
cares enough of his own, still has {a mistress} of virtuous and modest
breeding, and a stranger to the arts of a courtesan. Mine is a
craving, saucy, haughty, extravagant {creature}, full of lofty airs.
Then {all} that I have to give her is-- fair words[34]-- for I make it
a point not to tell her that I have nothing. This misfortune I met
with not long since, nor does my father as yet know {any thing of the
matter}. (_Exit._
SCENE II.
_Enter CLINIA from the house of CHREMES._
CLIN. (_to himself._) If my love-affairs had been prosperous for me,
I am sure she would have been here by this; but I’m afraid that the
damsel has been led astray here in my absence. Many things combine to
strengthen this opinion in my mind; opportunity, the place, her age,
a worthless mother, under whose control she is, with whom nothing but
gain is precious.
_Enter CLITIPHO._
CLIT. Clinia!
CLIN. Alas! wretched me!
CLIT. Do, pray, take care that no one coming out of your father’s
house sees you here by accident.
CLIN. I will do {so}; but really my mind presages I know not what
misfortune.
CLIT. Do you persist in making up your mind upon that, before you know
what is the fact?
CLIN. Had no misfortune happened, she would have been here by this.
CLIT. She’ll be here presently.
CLIN. When will that presently be?
CLIT. You don’t consider that it is a great way from here.[35]
Besides, you know the ways of women, while they are bestirring
themselves, {and} while they are making preparations a {whole} year
passes by.
CLIN. O Clitipho, I’m afraid--
CLIT. Take courage. Look, here comes Dromo, together with Syrus: they
are close at hand. (_They stand aside._)
SCENE III.
_Enter SYRUS and DROMO, conversing at a distance._
SYR. Do you say so?
DRO. ’Tis as {I told you},-- but in the mean time, while we’ve been
carrying on our discourse, these women have been left behind.
CLIT. (_apart._) Don’t you hear, Clinia? Your mistress is close at
hand.
CLIN. (_apart._) Why yes, I do hear now at last, and I see and revive,
Clitipho.
DRO. No wonder; they are so encumbered; they are bringing a troop of
female attendants[36] with them.
CLIN. (_apart._) I’m undone! Whence come these female attendants?
CLIT. (_apart._) Do you ask me?
SYR. We ought not to have left them; what a quantity of things they
are bringing!
CLIN. (_apart._) Ah me!
SYR. Jewels of gold, {and} clothes; it’s growing late too, and they
don’t know the way. It was very foolish of us {to leave them}. Just go
back, Dromo, and meet them. Make haste-- why do you delay? (_Exit
DROMO._
CLIN. (_apart._) Woe unto wretched me! --from what high hopes am I
fallen!
CLIT. (_apart._) What’s the matter? Why, what is it that troubles you?
CLIN. (_apart._) Do you ask what it is? Why, don’t you see?
Attendants, jewels of gold, {and} clothes, her {too}, whom I left here
with {only} one little servant girl. Whence do you suppose that they
come?
CLIT. (_apart._) Oh! now at last I understand you.
SYR. (_to himself._) Good Gods! what a multitude there is! Our house
will hardly hold them, I’m sure. How much they will eat! how much they
will drink! what will there be more wretched than our old gentleman?
(_Catching sight of CLINIA and CLITIPHO._) But look, I espy the
persons I was wanting.
CLIN. (_apart._) Oh Jupiter! Why, where is fidelity {gone}? While I,
distractedly wandering, have abandoned my country for your sake, you,
in the mean time, Antiphila, have been enriching yourself, and have
forsaken me in these troubles, {you} for whose sake I am in extreme
disgrace, and have been disobedient to my father; on whose account I
am now ashamed and grieved, that he who used to lecture me about the
manners of these women, advised me in vain, and was not able to wean
me away from her:-- which, however, I shall now do; {whereas} when it
might have been advantageous to me {to do so}, I was unwilling. There
is no being more wretched than I.
SYR. (_to himself._) He certainly has been misled by our words which
we have been speaking here. (_Aloud._) Clinia, you imagine your
mistress quite different from what she really is. For both her mode of
life is the same, and her disposition toward you is the same as it
{always} was; so far as we could form a judgment from the
circumstances themselves.
CLIN. How so, prithee? For nothing in the world could I rather wish
for just now, than that I have suspected this without reason.
SYR. This, in the first place, {then} (that you may not be ignorant of
any thing that concerns her); the old woman, who was formerly said to
be her mother, was not {so}. --She is dead: this I overheard by
accident from her, as we came along, while she was telling the other
one.
CLIT. Pray, who is the other one?
SYR. Stay; what I have begun I wish first to relate. Clitipho; I shall
come to that afterward.
CLIT. Make haste, {then}.
SYR. First of all, then, when we came to the house, Dromo knocked at
the door; a certain old woman came out; when she opened the door, he
directly rushed in; I followed; the old woman bolted the door, {and}
returned to her wool. On this occasion might be known, Clinia, or else
on none, in what pursuits she passed her life during your absence;
when we {thus} came upon a female unexpectedly. For this circumstance
then gave {us an} opportunity of judging of the course of her daily
life; {a thing} which especially discovers what is the disposition of
each individual. We found her industriously plying at the web; plainly
clad in a mourning dress,[37] on account of this old woman, I suppose,
who was {lately} dead; without golden ornaments, dressed, besides,
just like those who {only} dress for themselves, {and} patched up with
no worthless woman’s trumpery.[38] Her hair was loose, long, {and}
thrown back negligently about her temples. (_To CLINIA._) Do you hold
your peace.[39]
CLIN. My {dear} Syrus, do not without cause throw me into ecstasies,
I beseech you.
SYR. The old woman was spinning the woof:[40] there was one little
servant girl besides;-- she was weaving[41] together with them,
covered with patched clothes, slovenly, {and} dirty with filthiness.
CLIT. If this is true, Clinia, as I believe it is, who is there more
fortunate than you? Do you mark this {girl} whom he speaks of, as
dirty and drabbish? This, too, is a strong indication that the
mistress is out of harm’s way, when her confidant is in such ill
plight; for it is a rule with those who wish to gain access to the
mistress, first to bribe the maid.
CLIN. (_to SYRUS._) Go on, I beseech you; and beware of endeavoring to
purchase favor by telling an untruth. What did she say, when you
mentioned me?
SYR. When we told her that you had returned, and had requested her to
come to you, the damsel instantly put away the web, and covered her
face all over with tears; so that you might easily perceive that it
really was caused by her affection for you.
CLIN. So may the Deities bless me, I know not where I am for joy!
I was so alarmed {before}.
CLIT. But I was sure that there was no reason, Clinia. Come now,
Syrus, tell {me}, in my turn, who this other lady is.
SYR. Your Bacchis, {whom} we are bringing.[42]
CLIT. Ha! What! Bacchis? How now, you rascal! whither are you bringing
her?
SYR. Whither {am I bringing} her? To our house, to be sure.
CLIT. What! to my father’s?
SYR. To the very same.
CLIT. Oh, the audacious impudence of the fellow!
SYR. Hark’ye, no great and memorable action is done without some risk.
CLIT. Look {now}; are you seeking to gain credit for yourself, at the
hazard of my character, you rascal, in a point, where, if you only
make the slightest slip, I am ruined? What would you be doing with
her?
SYR. But still--
CLIT. Why “still?”
SYR. If you’ll give me leave, I’ll tell you.
CLIN. Do give him leave.
CLIT. I give him leave {then}.
SYR. This affair is now just as though when--
CLIT. Plague on it, what roundabout story is he beginning to tell me?
CLIN. Syrus, he says what’s right-- do omit {digressions}; come to the
point.
SYR. Really I can not hold my tongue. Clitipho, you are every way
unjust, and can not possibly be endured.
CLIN. Upon my faith, he ought to have a hearing. (_To CLITIPHO._) Do
be silent.
SYR. You wish to indulge in your amours; you wish to possess {your
mistress}; you wish that to be procured wherewithal to make her
presents; in getting {this}, you do not wish the risk to be your own.
You are not wise to no purpose,-- if indeed it is being wise to wish
for that which can not happen. Either the one must be had with the
other, or the one must be let alone with the other. Now, of these two
alternatives, consider which one you would prefer; although this
project which I have formed, I know to be both a wise and a safe one.
For there is an opportunity for your mistress to be with you at your
father’s house, without fear {of a discovery}; besides, by these
self-same means, I shall find the money which you have promised her--
to effect which, you have already made my ears deaf with entreating
me. What would you have more?
CLIT. If, indeed, this could be brought about--
SYR. If, indeed? You shall know {it} by experience.
CLIT. Well, well, disclose this project of yours. What is it?
SYR. We will pretend that your mistress is his (_pointing to CLINIA_).
CLIT. Very fine! Tell me, what is he to do with his own? Is she, too,
to be called his, as if one was not a sufficient discredit?
SYR. No-- she shall be taken to your mother.
CLIT. Why there?
SYR. It would be tedious, Clitipho, if I were to tell you why I do so;
I have a good reason.
CLIT. Stuff! I see no grounds sufficiently solid why it should be for
my advantage to incur this risk.[43] (_Turning as if going._)
SYR. Stay; if there is this risk, I have another {project}, which you
must both confess to be free from danger.
CLIT. Find out something of that description, I beseech you.
SYR. By all means; I’ll go meet her, {and} tell her to return home.
CLIT. Ha! what was it you said?
SYR. I’ll rid you at once of all fears, so that you may sleep at your
ease upon either ear.[44]
CLIT. What am I to do now?
CLIN. What are you {to do}? The goods that--
CLIT. Only tell me the truth, Syrus.
SYR. Dispatch quickly; you’ll be wishing just now too late and in
vain. (_Going._)
CLIN. The Gods provide, enjoy while {yet} you may; for you know not--
CLIT. (_calling._) Syrus, I say!
SYR. (_moving on._) Go on; I shall still do that {which I said}.[45]
CLIN. Whether you may have another opportunity hereafter or ever
again.
CLIT. I’faith, that’s true. (_Calling._) Syrus, Syrus, I say, harkye,
harkye, Syrus!
SYR. (_aside._) He warms {a little}. (_To CLITIPHO._) What is it you
want?
CLIT. Come back, come back.
SYR. (_coming back to him._) Here I am; tell me what you would have.
You’ll be presently saying that this, too, doesn’t please you.
CLIT. Nay, Syrus, I commit myself, and my love, and {my} reputation
{entirely} to you: you are the seducer; take care you don’t deserve
any blame.
SYR. It is ridiculous for you to give me that caution, Clitipho, as if
my interest was less at stake in this affair than yours. Here, if any
ill luck should perchance befall us, words will be in readiness for
you, {but} for this individual blows (_pointing to himself._) For that
reason, this matter is by no means to be neglected on my part: but do
prevail upon him (_pointing to CLINIA_) to pretend that she is his own
{mistress}.
CLIN. You may rest assured I’ll do so. The matter has now come to that
pass, that it is a case of necessity.
CLIT. ’Tis with good reason that I love you, Clinia.
CLIN. But she mustn’t be tripping at all.
SYR. She is thoroughly tutored in her part.
CLIT. But this I wonder at, how you could so easily prevail upon her,
who is wont to treat such {great people}[46] with scorn.
SYR. I came to her at the {proper} moment, which in all things is of
the first importance: for there I found a certain wretched captain
soliciting her favors: she artfully managed the man, so as to inflame
his eager passions by denial; and this, too, that it might be
especially pleasing to yourself. But hark you, take care, will you,
not to be imprudently impetuous. You know your father, how
quick-sighted he is in these matters; and I know you, how unable you
are to command yourself. Keep clear of words of double meaning,[47]
your sidelong looks, sighing, hemming, coughing, tittering.
CLIT. You shall have to commend {me}.
SYR. Take care of that, please.
CLIT. You yourself shall be surprised at me.
SYR. But how quickly the ladies have come up with us!
CLIT. Where are they? (_SYRUS stands before him._) Why do you hold me
back?
SYR. For the present she is nothing to you.
CLIT. I know it, before my father; but now in the mean time--
SYR. Not a bit the more.
CLIT. Do let me.
SYR. I will not let you, I tell you.
CLIT. But only for a moment, pray.
SYR. I forbid it.
CLIT. Only to salute her.
SYR. If you are wise, get you gone.
CLIT. I’m off. {But} what’s he {to do}? (_Pointing at CLINIA._)
SYR. He will stay {here}.
CLIT. O happy man!
SYR. Take yourself off. (_Exit CLITIPHO._
SCENE IV.
_Enter BACCHIS and ANTIPHILA at a distance._
BACCHIS. Upon my word, my {dear} Antiphila, I commend you, and think
you fortunate in having made it your study that your manners should be
conformable to those good looks {of yours}: and so may the Gods bless
me, I do not at all wonder if every man is in love with you. For your
discourse has been a proof to me what kind of disposition you possess.
And when now I reflect in my mind upon your way of life, and {that} of
all of you, in fact, who keep the public at a distance from
yourselves, it is not surprising both that you are of that
{disposition}, and that we are not; for it is your interest to be
virtuous; those, with whom we are acquainted, will not allow us {to be
so}. For {our} lovers, allured {merely} by our beauty, court us {for
that}; when that has faded, they transfer their affections elsewhere;
{and} unless we have made provision in the mean time for the future,
we live in destitution. {Now} with you, when you have once resolved to
pass your life with one man whose manners are especially kindred to
your own, those persons[48] become attached to you. By this kindly
feeling, you are truly devoted to each other; and no calamity can ever
possibly interrupt your love.
ANTI. I know nothing about other women: I’m sure that I have, indeed,
always used every endeavor to derive my own happiness from his
happiness.
CLIN. (_apart, overhearing ANTIPHILA._) Ah! ’tis for that reason, my
Antiphila, that you alone have now caused me to return to my native
country; for while I was absent from you, all {other} hardships which
I encountered were light to me, save the being deprived of you.
SYR. (_apart._) I believe it.
CLIN. (_apart._) Syrus, I can scarce endure it![49] Wretch that I am,
that I should not be allowed to possess one of such a disposition at
my own discretion!
SYR. Nay, so far as I understand your father, he will for a long time
yet be giving you a hard task.
BACCH. Why, who is that young man that’s looking at us?
ANTI. (_seeing CLINIA._) Ah! do support me, I entreat you!
BACCH. Prithee, what is the matter with you?
ANTI. I shall die, alas! I shall die!
BACCH. Why are you {thus} surprised, Antiphila?
ANTI. Is it Clinia that I see, or not?
BACCH. Whom do you see?
CLIN. (_running to embrace ANTIPHILA._) Blessings on you, my life!
ANTI. Oh my long-wished for Clinia, blessings on you!
CLIN. How fare you, {my love}?
ANTI. I’m overjoyed that you have returned safe.
CLIN. And do I embrace you, Antiphila, {so} passionately longed for by
my soul?
SYR. Go in-doors; for the old gentleman has been waiting for us some
time. (_They go into the house of CHREMES._)
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_Enter CHREMES from his house._
CHREM. (_to himself._) It is now daybreak.[50] {Why} do I delay to
knock at my neighbor’s door, that he may learn from me the first that
his son has returned? Although I am aware that the youth would not
prefer this. But when I see him tormenting himself {so} miserably
about his absence, can I conceal a joy so unhoped for, {especially}
when there can be no danger to him from the discovery? I will not do
{so}; but as far as I can I will assist the old man. As I see my son
aiding his friend and year’s-mate, and acting as his confidant in his
concerns, it is {but} right that we old men as well should assist each
other.
_Enter MENEDEMUS from his house._
MEN. (_to himself._) Assuredly I was either born with a disposition
peculiarly suited for misery, or else that {saying} which I hear
commonly repeated, that “time assuages human sorrow,” is false. For
really my sorrow about my son increases daily; and the longer he is
away from me, the more anxiously do I wish for him, and the more I
miss him.
CHREM. (_apart._) But I see him coming out of his house; I’ll go speak
to him. (_Aloud._) Menedemus, good-morrow; I bring you news, which you
would especially desire to be imparted.
MEN. Pray, have you heard any thing about my son, Chremes?
CHREM. He’s alive, and well.
MEN. Why, where is he, pray?
CHREM. Here, at my house, at home.
MEN. My son?
CHREM. Such is the fact.
MEN. Come {home}?
CHREM. Certainly.
MEN. My son, Clinia, come {home}?
CHREM. I say {so}.
MEN. Let us go. Lead me to him, I beg of you.
CHREM. He does not wish you yet to know of his return, and he shuns
your presence; he’s afraid that, on account of that fault, your former
severity may even be increased.
MEN. Did you not tell him how I was affected?[51]
CHREM. No--
MEN. For what reason, Chremes?
CHREM. Because there you would judge extremely ill both for yourself
and for him, if you were to show yourself of a spirit so weak and
irresolute.
MEN. I can not {help it}: enough already, enough, have I proved a
rigorous father.
CHREM. Ah Menedemus! you are too precipitate in either extreme, either
with profuseness or with parsimony too great. Into the same error will
you fall from the one side as from the other. In the first place,
formerly, rather than allow your son to visit a young woman, who was
then content with a very little, and to whom any thing was acceptable,
you frightened him away from here. After that, she began, quite
against her inclination, to seek a subsistence upon the town. Now,
when she can not be supported without a great expense, you are ready
to give any thing. For, that you may know how perfectly she is trained
to extravagance, in the first place, she has already brought with her
more than ten female attendants, {all} laden with clothes and jewels
of gold; if a satrap[52] had been her admirer, he never could support
her expenses, much less can you.
MEN. Is she at your house?
CHREM. Is she, do you ask? I have felt it; for I have given her and
her retinue one dinner; had I to give them another such, it would be
all over {with me}; for, to pass by other matters, what a quantity of
wine she did consume for me in tasting only,[53] saying thus, “This
{wine} is {too} acid,[54] respected sir,[55] do please look for
something more mellow.” I opened all the casks, all the vessels;[56]
she kept all on the stir: and this {but} a single night. What do you
suppose will become of you when they are constantly preying upon you?
So may the Gods prosper me, Menedemus, I do pity your lot.
MEN. Let him do what he will; let him take, waste, {and} squander; I’m
determined to endure it, so long as I only have him with me.
CHREM. If it is your determination thus to act, I hold it to be of
very great moment that he should not be aware that with a full
knowledge you grant him this.
MEN. What shall I do?
CHREM. Any thing, rather than what you are thinking of; supply him
{with money} through some other person; suffer yourself to be imposed
upon by the artifices of his servant: although I have smelt out this
too, that they are about that, {and} are secretly planning it among
them. Syrus is {always} whispering with that {servant} of yours;[57]
they impart their plans to the young men; and it were better for you
to lose a talent this way, than a mina the other. The money is not the
question now, but this-- in what way we can supply it to the young man
with the least danger. For if he once knows the state of your
feelings, that you would sooner part with your life, and sooner with
all your money, than allow your son to leave you; whew! what an
inlet[58] will you be opening for his debauchery! aye, and so much so,
that henceforth to live can not be desirable to you. For we all become
worse through indulgence. Whatever comes into his head, he’ll be
wishing for; nor will he reflect whether that which he desires is
right or wrong. You will not be able to endure your estate and him
going to ruin. You will refuse to supply him: he will immediately have
recourse to the means by which he finds that he has the greatest hold
upon you, {and} threaten that he will immediately leave you.
MEN. You seem to speak the truth, and just what is the fact.
CHREM. I’faith, I have not been sensible of sleep this night with my
eyes,[59] for thinking of this-- how to restore your son to you.
MEN. (_taking his hand._) Give {me your} right hand. I request that
you will still act in a like manner, Chremes.
CHREM. I am ready {to serve you}.
MEN. Do you know what it is I now want you to do?
CHREM. Tell {me}.
MEN. As you have perceived that they are laying a plan to deceive me,
that they may hasten to complete it. I long to give him whatever he
wants: I am now longing to behold him.
CHREM. I’ll lend my endeavors. This little business is in my way. Our
neighbors Simus and Crito are disputing here about boundaries; they
have chosen me for arbitrator. I’ll go and tell them that I can not
possibly give them my attention to-day as I had stated I would. I’ll
be here immediately.
(_Exit._
MEN. Pray do. (_To himself._) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! That the
nature of all men should be so constituted, that they can see and
judge of other men’s affairs better than their own! Is it because in
our own concerns we are biased either with joy or grief in too great a
degree? How much wiser now is he for me, than I {have been} for
myself!
_Re-enter CHREMES._
CHREM. I have disengaged myself, that I might lend you my services at
my leisure. Syrus must be found and instructed by me {in this
business}. Some one, I know not who, is coming out of my house: do you
step hence home, that they may not perceive[60] that we are conferring
together. (_MENEDEMUS goes into his house._)
SCENE II.
_Enter SYRUS from the house of CHREMES._
SYR. (_aloud to himself._) Run to and fro in every direction; still,
money, you must be found: a trap must be laid for the old man.
CHREM. (_apart, overhearing him._) Was I deceived {in saying} that
they were planning this? That servant of Clinia’s is somewhat dull;
therefore {that} province has been assigned to this one of ours.
SYR. (_in a low voice._) Who’s that speaking? (_Catches sight of
CHREMES._) I’m undone! Did he hear it, I wonder?
CHREM. Syrus.
SYR. Well--
CHREM. What are you doing here?
SYR. All right. Really, I am quite surprised at you, Chremes, up so
early, after drinking so much yesterday.
CHREM. Not too much.
SYR. Not {too much}, say you? Really, you’ve seen the old age of an
eagle,[61] as the saying is.
CHREM. Pooh, pooh!
SYR. A pleasant and agreeable woman this Courtesan.
CHREM. Why, so she seemed to me, in fact.
SYR. And really of handsome appearance.
CHREM. Well enough.
SYR. Not like {those} of former days,[62] but as {times are} now, very
passable: nor do I in the least wonder that Clinia doats upon her. But
he has a father-- a certain covetous, miserable, and niggardly
person-- this neighbor {of ours} (_pointing to the house_). Do you
know him? Yet, as if he was not abounding in wealth, his son ran away
through want. Are you aware that it is the fact, as I am saying?
CHREM. How should I not be aware? A fellow that deserves the mill.
SYR. Who?
CHREM. That servant of the young gentleman, I mean.
SYR. (_aside._) Syrus! I was sadly afraid for you.
CHREM. To suffer it to come to this!
SYR. What was he to do?
CHREM. Do you ask the question? He ought to have found some expedient,
contrived {some} stratagem, by means of which there might have been
something for the young man to give to his mistress, and {thus} have
saved this crabbed old fellow in spite of himself.
SYR. You are {surely} joking.
CHREM. This ought to have been done by him, Syrus.
SYR. How now-- pray, do you commend {servants}, who deceive their
masters?
CHREM. Upon occasion-- I certainly do commend {them}.
SYR. Quite right.
CHREM. Inasmuch as it often is the remedy for great disturbances. Then
would this man’s only son have staid at home.
SYR. (_aside._) Whether he says this in jest or in earnest, I don’t
know; only, in fact, that he gives me additional zest for longing
still more {to trick} him.
CHREM. And what is he now waiting for, Syrus? Is it until {his father}
drives him away from here a second time, when he can no longer support
her expenses?[63] Has he no plot on foot against the old gentleman?
SYR. He is a stupid fellow.
CHREM. Then you ought to assist him-- for the sake of the young man.
SYR. For my part, I can do {so} easily, if you command me; for I know
well in what fashion it is usually done.
CHREM. So much the better, i’ faith.
SYR. ’Tis not my way to tell an untruth.
CHREM. Do it then.
SYR. But hark you! Just take care and remember this, in case any thing
of this sort should perchance happen at a future time, such are human
affairs! --your son might do {the same}.
CHREM. The necessity will not arise, I trust.
SYR. I’ faith, and I trust so too: nor do I say so now, because I have
suspected him in any way; but in case, none the more[64]-- You see
what his age is; (_aside_) and truly, Chremes,[65] if an occasion does
happen, I may be able to handle you right handsomely.
CHREM. As to that, we’ll consider what is requisite when the occasion
does happen. At present do you set about this matter. (_Goes into his
house._)
SYR. (_to himself._) Never on any occasion did I hear my master talk
more to the purpose; nor {at any time} could I believe that I was
authorized to play the rogue with greater impunity. I wonder who it is
coming out of our house? (_Stands aside._)
SCENE III.
_Enter CHREMES and CLITIPHO from the house of the former._
CHREM. Pray, what does this mean? What behavior is this, Clitipho? Is
this acting as becomes you?
CLIT. What have I done?
CHREM. Did I not see you just now putting your hand into this
Courtesan’s bosom?
SYR. (_apart._) It’s all up with us-- I’m utterly undone!
CLIT. What, I?
CHREM. With these self-same eyes {I saw it}-- don’t deny it. Besides,
you wrong him unworthily in not keeping your hands off: for indeed it
is a gross affront to entertain a person, your friend, at your house,
and to take liberties with his mistress. Yesterday, for instance, at
wine, how rude you were--
SYR. (_apart._) ’Tis the truth.[66]
CHREM. How annoying {you were}! So much so, that for my part, as the
Gods may prosper me, I dreaded what in the end might be {the
consequence}. I understand lovers. They resent highly things that you
would not imagine.
CLIT. But he has {full} confidence in me, father, that I would not do
any thing of that kind.
CHREM. Be it so; still, at least, you ought to go somewhere for a
little time away from their presence. Passion prompts to many a thing;
your presence acts as a restraint upon doing them. I form a judgment
from myself. There’s not one of my friends this day to whom I would
venture, Clitipho, to disclose all my secrets. With one, {his} station
forbids it; with another, I am ashamed of the action itself, lest I
may appear a fool or devoid of shame; do you rest assured that he does
the same.[67] But it is our part to be sensible of {this}; and, when
and where it is requisite, to show due complaisance.
SYR. (_coming forward and whispering to CLITIPHO._) What is it he is
saying?
CLIT. (_aside, to SYRUS._) I’m utterly undone!
SYR. Clitipho, these same injunctions I gave you. You have acted the
part of a prudent and discreet person.[68]
CLIT. Hold your tongue, I beg.
SYR. Very good.
CHREM. (_approaching them._) Syrus, I am ashamed {of him}.
SYR. I believe it; and not without reason. Why, he vexes myself even.
CLIT. (_to SYRUS._) Do you persist, then?
SYR. I’ faith, I’m saying the truth, as it appears {to me}.
CLIT. May I not go near them?
CHREM. How now-- pray, is there but one way[69] of going near {them}?
SYR. (_aside._) Confusion! He’ll be betraying himself before I’ve got
the money. (_Aloud._) Chremes, will you give attention to me, who am
but a silly person?
CHREM. What am I to do?
SYR. Bid {him} go somewhere {out of the way}.
CLIT. Where am I to go?
SYR. Where you please; leave the place to them; be off and take a
walk.
CLIT. Take a walk! where?
SYR. Pshaw! Just as if there was no place {to walk in}. Why, then, go
this way, that way, where you will.
CHREM. He says right, I’m of his opinion.
CLIT. May the Gods extirpate you, Syrus, for thrusting me away from
here.
SYR. (_aside to CLITIPHO._) Then do you for the future keep those
hands {of yours} within bounds. (_Exit CLITIPHO._) Really {now} (_to
CHREMES_), what do you think? What do you imagine will become of him
next, unless, so far as the Gods afford you the means, you watch him,
correct {and} admonish him?
CHREM. I’ll take care of that.
SYR. But now, master, he must be looked after by you.
CHREM. It shall be done.
SYR. If you are wise,-- for now he minds me less and less {every day}.
CHREM. What {say} you? What have you done, Syrus, about that matter
which I was mentioning to you a short time since? Have you any {plan}
that suits {you}, or not yet even?
SYR. You mean the design {upon Menedemus}? I have; I have just hit
upon one.
CHREM. You are a clever fellow; what is it? Tell me.
SYR. I’ll tell {you}; but, as one matter arises, out of another----
CHREM. Why, what is it, Syrus?
SYR. This Courtesan is a very bad woman.
CHREM. So she seems.
SYR. Aye, if you did but know. O shocking! just see what she is
hatching. There was a certain old woman here from Corinth,-- this
{Bacchis} lent her a thousand silver drachmæ.
CHREM. What then?
SYR. She is {now} dead: she has left a daughter, a young girl. She has
been left with this {Bacchis} as a pledge for that sum.
CHREM. I understand {you}.
SYR. She has brought her hither along with her, her {I mean} who is
now with your wife.[70]
CHREM. What then?
SYR. She is soliciting Clinia at once to advance her this {money}; she
says, however, that this {girl} is to be a security, that, at a future
time, she will repay the thousand pieces of money.
CHREM. And would she really be a security?[71]
SYR. Dear me, is it to be doubted? I think so.
CHREM. What then do you intend doing?
SYR. What, I? I shall go to Menedemus; I’ll tell him she is a captive
from Caria, rich, and of noble family; if he redeems her, there will
be a considerable profit in this transaction.
CHREM. You are in an error.
SYR. Why so?
CHREM. I’ll now answer you for Menedemus-- I will not purchase her.
SYR. What is it you say? Do speak more agreeably to our wishes.
CHREM. But there is no occasion.
SYR. No occasion?
CHREM. Certainly not, i’ faith.
SYR. How so, I wonder?
CHREM. You shall soon know.[72]
SYR. Stop, stop; what is the reason that there is such a great noise
at our door? (_They retire out of sight._)
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
_Enter SOSTRATA and a NURSE in haste from the house of CHREMES, and
CHREMES and SYRUS on the other side of the stage unperceived._
SOS. (_holding up a ring and examining it._) Unless my fancy deceives
me, surely this is the ring which I suspect it to be, the same with
which my daughter was exposed.
CHREM. (_apart._) Syrus, what is the meaning of these expressions?
SOS. {Nurse}, how is it? Does it not seem to you the same?
NUR. As for me, I said it was the same the very instant that you
showed it me.
SOS. But have you now examined it thoroughly, my {dear} nurse?
NUR. Thoroughly.
SOS. Then go in-doors at once, and if she has now done bathing, bring
me word. I’ll wait here in the mean time for my husband.
SYR. (_apart._) She wants you, see what it is she wants; she is in a
serious mood, I don’t know why; it is not without a cause-- I fear
what it may be.
CHREM. What it may be? I’ faith, she’ll now surely be announcing some
important trifle, with a great parade.
SOS. (_turning round._) Ha! my husband!
CHREM. Ha! my wife!
SOS. I was looking for you.
CHREM. Tell me what you want.
SOS. In the first place, this I beg of you, not to believe that I have
ventured to do any thing contrary to your commands.
CHREM. Would you have me believe you in this, although so incredible?
{Well,} I will believe you.
SYR. (_aside._) This excuse portends I know not what offense.
SOS. Do you remember me being pregnant, and yourself declaring to me,
most peremptorily, that if I should bring forth a girl, you would not
have it brought up.
CHREM. I know what you have done, you have brought it up.
SYR. (_aside._) Such is the fact, {I’m sure}: my young master has
gained a loss[73] in consequence.
SOS. Not at all; but there was here an elderly woman of Corinth, of no
indifferent character; to her I gave it to be exposed.
CHREM. O Jupiter! that there should be such extreme folly in
{a person’s} mind.
SOS. Alas! what have I done?
CHREM. And do you ask the question?
SOS. If I have acted wrong, my {dear} Chremes, I have done {so} in
ignorance.
CHREM. This, indeed, I know for certain, even if you were to deny it,
that in every thing you both speak and act ignorantly and foolishly:
how many blunders you disclose in this {single} affair! For, in the
first place, then, if you had been disposed to obey my orders, {the
child} ought to have been dispatched; {you ought} not in words to have
feigned her death, {and} in reality to have left hopes of her
surviving. But that I pass over; compassion, maternal affection,
I allow it. But how finely you did provide for the future! What was
your meaning? Do reflect. It’s clear, beyond a doubt, that your
daughter was betrayed by you to this old woman, either that through
you she might make a living by her, or that she might be sold in open
market as {a slave}. I suppose you reasoned thus: “any thing is
enough, if only her life is saved:” what are you to do with those who
understand neither law, nor right and justice? {Be it} for better {or}
for worse, be it for them or against them, they see nothing except
just what they please.
SOS. My {dear} Chremes, I have done wrong, I own; I am convinced. Now
this I beg of you; inasmuch as you are more advanced in years than I,
be so much the more ready to forgive; so that your justice may be some
protection for my weakness.
CHREM. I’ll readily forgive you doing this, of course; but, Sostrata,
my easy temper prompts you to do amiss. But, whatever this
{circumstance} is, by reason of which this was begun upon, proceed to
tell it.
SOS. As we {women} are all foolishly and wretchedly superstitious,
when I delivered {the child} to her to be exposed, I drew a ring from
off my finger, and ordered her to expose it, together with the child;
{that} if she should die, she might not be without[74] some portion of
our possessions.
CHREM. That {was} right; {thereby} you proved the saving of yourself
and her.[75]
SOS. (_holding out the ring._) This is that ring.
CHREM. Whence did you get it?
SOS. From the young woman whom Bacchis brought here with her.
SYR. (_aside._) Ha!
CHREM. What does she say?
SOS. She gave it me to keep for her, while she went to bathe. At first
I paid no attention {to it}; but after I looked at it, I at once
recognized it, {and} came running to you.
CHREM. What do you suspect now, or have you discovered, relative to
her?
SOS. I don’t know; unless you inquire of herself whence she got it, if
{that} can possibly be discovered.
SYR. (_aside._) I’m undone! I see more hopes[76] {from this incident}
than I desire. If it is so, she {certainly} must be ours.
CHREM. Is this {woman} living to whom you delivered {the child}?
SOS. I don’t know.
CHREM. What account did she bring you at the time?
SOS. That she had done as I had ordered her.
CHREM. Tell me what is the woman’s name, that she may be inquired
after.
SOS. Philtere.
SYR. (_aside._) ’Tis the very same. It’s a wonder if she isn’t found,
and I lost.
CHREM. Sostrata, follow me this way in-doors.
SOS. How much beyond my hopes has {this matter} turned out! How
dreadfully afraid I was, Chremes, that you would now be of feelings as
unrelenting as formerly you were on exposing {the child}.
CHREM. Many a time a man can not be[77] such as he would be, if
circumstances do not admit of it. Time has now so brought it about,
that I should be glad of a daughter; formerly {I wished for} nothing
less.
(_CHREMES and SOSTRATA go into the house._)
SCENE II.
_SYRUS alone._
SYR. Unless my fancy deceives me,[78] retribution[79] will not be
very, far off from me; so much by this incident are my forces now
utterly driven into straits; unless I contrive by some means that the
old man mayn’t come to know that this {damsel} is his son’s mistress.
For as to entertaining any hopes about the money, or supposing I could
cajole him, it’s useless; I shall be {sufficiently} triumphant, if I’m
allowed to escape with my sides covered.[80] I’m vexed that such a
{tempting} morsel has been so suddenly snatched away from my jaws.
What am I to do? Or what shall I devise? I must begin upon my plan
over again. Nothing is so difficult, but that it may be found out by
seeking. What now if I set about it after this fashion. (_He
considers._) That’s of no use. What, if after this fashion? I effect
just about the same. But this I think will do. It can not. Yes!
excellent. Bravo! I’ve found out the best of all-- I’ faith, I do
believe that after all I shall lay hold of this same runaway
money.[81]
SCENE III.
_Enter CLINIA at the other side of the stage._
CLIN. (_to himself._) Nothing can possibly henceforth befall me of
such consequence as to cause {me} uneasiness; so extreme is this joy
that has surprised me. Now then I shall give myself up entirely to my
father, to be more frugal than {even} he could wish.
SYR. (_apart._) I wasn’t mistaken; she has been discovered, so far as
I understand from these words of his. (_Advancing._) I am rejoiced
that this matter has turned out for you so much to your wish.
CLIN. O my {dear} Syrus, have you heard of it, pray?
SYR. How shouldn’t I, when I was present all the while?
CLIN. Did you {ever} hear of any thing falling out so fortunately for
any one?
SYR. Never.
CLIN. And, so may the Gods prosper me, I do not now rejoice so much on
my own account as hers, whom I know to be deserving of any honor.
SYR. I believe it: but now, Clinia, come, attend to me in my turn. For
your friend’s business as well,-- it must be seen to-- that it is
placed in a state of security, lest the old gentleman should now {come
to know} any thing about his mistress.
CLIN. O Jupiter!
SYR. Do be quiet.
CLIN. My Antiphila will be mine.
SYR. Do you {still} interrupt me thus?
CLIN. What can I do? My {dear} Syrus, I’m transported with joy! Do
bear with me.