[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 Chaerea'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 Chaerea; so that all this variety of business of sleeping, bathing, ravishing, &c., is dispatched during the two soliloquies of Antipho and Chaerea, 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 Phaedria 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. "Extrema linea." 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 prima linea;" the next, "in secunda;" and so on to the last, who took the widest range, and was said to run "in extrema linea."]

[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 Phaedria, 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 Menaechmi 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 Chaerea 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 Chaerea 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 Phaedria.]

[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 Chaerea 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 Chaerea 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 Chaerea 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 Phaedria and Chaerea consenting to take Thraso into their society, with a view of fleecing him, which the Poet should have avoided."]

* * * * * * * * *

HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS;

THE SELF-TORMENTOR.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

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 minae, 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 drachmae 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 AEdiles. 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 minae 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 drachmae.

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.

SYR. I' faith, I really do bear with you.

CLIN. We are blest with the life of the Gods.

SYR. I'm taking pains to no purpose, I doubt.

CLIN. Speak; I hear you.

SYR. But still you'll not mind it.

CLIN. I will.

SYR. This must be seen to, I say, that your friend's business as well is placed in a state of security. For if you now go away from us, and leave Bacchis here, our {old man} will immediately come to know that she is Clitipho's mistress; if you take her away {with you}, it will be concealed just as much as it has been hitherto concealed.

CLIN. But still, Syrus, nothing can make more against my marriage than this; for with what face am I to address my father {about it}? You understand what I mean?

SYR. Why not?

CLIN. What can I say? What excuse can I make?

SYR. Nay, I don't want you to dissemble; tell him the whole case just as it really is.

CLIN. What is it you say?

SYR. I bid you {do this; tell him} that you are in love with her, and want her for a wife: that this {Bacchis} is Clitipho's {mistress}.

CLIN. You require a thing that is fair and reasonable, and easy to be done. And I suppose, then, you would have me request my father to keep it a secret from your old man.

SYR. On the contrary; to tell him directly the matter just as it is.

CLIN. What? Are you quite in your senses or sober? Why, you were for ruining him outright. For how could he be in a state of security? Tell me {that}.

SYR. For my part, I yield the palm to this device. Here I do pride myself exultingly, in having in myself such exquisite resources, and power of address so great, as to deceive them both by telling the truth: so that when your old man tells ours that she is his son's mistress, he'll still not believe him.

CLIN. But yet, by these means you again cut off all hopes of my marriage; for as long as {Chremes} believes that she is my mistress, he'll not give me his daughter. Perhaps you care little what becomes of me, so long as you provide for him.

SYR. What the plague, do you suppose I want this pretense to be kept up for an age? 'Tis but for a single day, {only} till I have secured the money: you be quiet; {I ask} no more.

CLIN. Is that sufficient? If his father should come to know of it, pray, what then?

SYR. What if I have recourse to those who say, "What now if the sky were to fall?"[82]

CLIN. I'm afraid to go about it.

SYR. You, afraid! As if it was not in your power to clear yourself at any time you like, {and} discover the {whole} matter.

CLIN. Well, well; let Bacchis be brought over {to our house}.

SYR. Capital! she is coming out of doors.

SCENE IV.

Enter BACCHIS and PHRYGIA, from the house of CHREMES.

BACCH. (pretending not to see CLINIA and SYRUS.) To a very fine purpose,[83] upon my faith, have the promises of Syrus brought me hither, who agreed to lend me ten minae. If now he deceives me, oft as he may entreat me to come, he shall come in vain. Or else, when I've promised to come, and fixed the time, when he has carried word back for certain, {and} Clitipho is on the stretch of expectation, I'll disappoint him and not come. Syrus will make atonement to me with his back.

CLIN. (apart, to SYRUS.) She promises you very fairly.

SYR. (to CLINIA.) But do you think she is in jest? She'll do it, if I don't take care.

BACCH. (aside.) They're asleep[84]— I'faith, I'll rouse them. (Aloud.) My {dear} Phrygia, did you hear about the country-seat of Charinus, which that man was showing us just now?

PHRY. I heard of it.

BACCH. (aloud.) That it was the next to the farm here on the right-hand side.[85]

PHRY. I remember.

BACCH. (aloud) Run thither post-haste; the Captain is keeping the feast of Bacchus[86] at his house.

SYR. (apart.) What is she going to be at?

BACCH. (aloud.) Tell him I am here very much against my inclination, and am detained; but that by some means or other I'll give them the slip and come {to him}. (PHRYGIA moves.)

SYR. (coming forward.) Upon my faith, I'm ruined! Bacchis, stay, stay; prithee, where are you sending her? Order her to stop.

BACCH. (to PHRYGIA.) Be off.

SYR. Why, the money's ready.

BACCH. Why, then I'll stay. (PHRYGIA returns.)

SYR. And it will be given you presently.

BACCH. Just when you please; do I press you?

SYR. But do you know what {you are to do}, pray?

BACCH. What?

SYR. You must now go over to the house of Menedemus, and your equipage must be taken over thither.

BACCH. What scheme are you upon, {you} rascal?

SYR. What, I? Coining money to give you.

BACCH. Do you think me a proper person {for you} to play upon?

SYR. It's not without a purpose.

BACCH. (pointing to the house.) Why, have I any business then with you here?

SYR. O no; I'm only going to give you what's your own.

BACCH. {Then} let's be going.[87]

SYR. Follow this way. (Goes to the door of MENEDEMUS, and calls.) Ho there! Dromo.

Enter DROMO from the house.

DRO. Who is it wants me?

SYR. Syrus.

DRO. What's the matter?

SYR. Take over all the attendants of Bacchis to your house here immediately.

DRO. Why so?

SYR. Ask no questions. Let them take what they brought here with them. The old gentleman will hope his expenses are lightened by their departure; for sure he little knows how much loss this trifling gain will bring him. You, Dromo, if you are wise, know nothing of what you do know.

DRO. You shall own that I'm dumb. (CLINIA, BACCHIS, and PHRYGIA go into the house of MENEDEMUS, and DROMO follows with BACCHIS'S retinue and baggage.)

SCENE V.

Enter CHREMES from his house.

CHREM. (to himself.) So may the Deities prosper me, I am now concerned for the fate of Menedemus, that so great a misfortune should have befallen him. To be maintaining that woman with such a retinue! Although I am well aware he'll not be sensible of it for some days to come, his son was so greatly missed by him; but when he sees such a vast expense incurred by him every day at home, and no limit to it, he'll wish that this son would leave him a second time. See— here comes Syrus most opportunely.

SYR. (to himself, as he comes forward.) {Why} delay to accost him?

CHREM. Syrus.

SYR. Well.

CHREM. How go matters?

SYR. I've been wishing for some time for you to be thrown in my way.

CHREM. You seem, then, to have effected something, I know not what, with the old gentleman.

SYR. As to what we were talking of a short time since? No sooner said than done.

CHREM. In real earnest?

SYR. In real.

CHREM. Upon my faith, I can not forbear patting your head {for it}. Come here, Syrus; I'll do you some good turn for this matter, and with pleasure. (Patting his head.)

SYR. But if you knew how cleverly it came into my head——

CHREM. Pshaw! Do you boast because it has turned out according to your wishes?

SYR. On my word, not I, indeed; I am telling the truth.

CHREM. Tell {me} how it is.

SYR. Clinia has told Menedemus, that this Bacchis is your Clitipho's mistress, and that {he} has taken her thither with him in order that you might not come to know of it.

CHREM. Very good.

SYR. Tell me, please, {what you think of it}.

CHREM. Extremely {good}, I declare.

SYR. Why yes, pretty fair. But listen, what a piece of policy still remains. He is then to say that he has seen your daughter— that her beauty charmed him as soon as he beheld her; {and} that he desires her for a wife.

CHREM. What, her that has just been discovered?

SYR. The same; and, in fact, he'll request that she may be asked for.

CHREM. For what purpose, Syrus? For I don't altogether comprehend it.

SYR. O dear, you are {so} dull.

CHREM. Perhaps so.

SYR. Money will be given him for the wedding— with which golden trinkets and clothes—— do you understand me?

CHREM. To buy {them}——?

SYR. Just so.

CHREM. But I neither give nor betroth my daughter {to him}.

SYR. But why?

CHREM. Why, do you ask me? To a fellow——

SYR. Just as you please. I don't mean that in reality you should give her to him, but that you should pretend it.

CHREM. Pretending is not in my way; do you mix up these {plots} of yours, so as not to mix me up {in them}. Do you think that I'll betroth my daughter to a person to whom I will not marry her?

SYR. I imagined {so}.

CHREM. By no means.

SYR. It might have been cleverly managed; and I undertook this affair for the very reason, that a short time since you so urgently requested it.

CHREM. I believe you.

SYR. But for my part, Chremes, I take it well and good, {either way}.

CHREM. But still, I especially wish you to do your best for it to be brought about; but in some other way.

SYR. It shall be done: some other {method} must be thought of; but as to what I was telling you of,— about the money which she owes to Bacchis,— that must now be repaid her. And you will not, of course, now be having recourse to this method; "What have I to do with it? Was it lent to me? Did I give any orders? Had she the power to pawn my daughter without my consent?" They quote that saying, Chremes, with good reason, "Rigorous law[88] is often rigorous injustice."

CHREM. I will not do {so}.

SYR. On the contrary, though others were at liberty, you are not at liberty; all think that you are in good and very easy circumstances.

CHREM. Nay rather, I'll at once carry it to her myself.

SYR. Why no; request your son in preference.

CHREM. For what reason?

SYR. Why, because the suspicion of being in love with her has been transferred to him {with Menedemus}.

CHREM. What then?

SYR. Because it will seem to be more like probability when he gives it her; and at the same time I shall effect more easily what I wish. Here he comes too; go, {and} bring out the money.

CHREM. I'll bring it. (Goes into his house.)

SCENE VI.

Enter CLITIPHO.

CLIT. (to himself.) There is nothing so easy but that it becomes difficult when you do it with reluctance. As this walk of mine, for instance, though not fatiguing, it has reduced me to weariness. And now I dread nothing more than that I should be packed off somewhere hence once again, that I may not have access to Bacchis. May then all the Gods and Goddesses, as many as exist, confound you, Syrus, with these stratagems and plots of yours. You are always devising something of this kind, by means of which to torture me.

SYR. Will you not away with you— to where you deserve? How nearly had your forwardness proved my ruin!

CLIT. Upon my faith, I wish it had been {so}; just what you deserve.

SYR. Deserve? How so? Really, I'm glad that I've heard this from you before you had the money which I was just going to give you.

CLIT. What then would you have me to say to you? You've made a fool of me; brought my mistress hither, whom I'm not allowed to touch——

SYR. {Well}, I'm not angry then. But do you know where Bacchis is just now?

CLIT. At our house.

SYR. No.

CLIT. Where then?

SYR. At Clinia's.

CLIT. I'm ruined!

SYR. Be of good heart; you shall presently carry to her the money that you promised her.

CLIT. You do prate away. —Where from?

SYR. From your own father.

CLIT. Perhaps you are joking with me.

SYR. The thing itself will prove it.

CLIT. Indeed, then, I am a lucky man. Syrus, I do love you from my heart.

SYR. But {your} father's coming out. Take care not to express surprise at any thing, for what reason it is done; give way at the proper moment; do what he orders, {and} say but little.

SCENE VII.

Enter CHREMES from the house, with a bag of money.

CHREM. Where's Clitipho now?

SYR. (aside to CLITIPHO.) Say— here I am.

CLIT. Here am I.

CHREM. (to SYRUS.) Have you told him how it is?

SYR. I've told him pretty well every thing.

CHREM. Take this money, and carry it. (Holding out the bag.)

SYR. (aside to CLITIPHO.) Go— why do you stand still, {you} stone; why don't you take it?

CLIT. Very well, give it me. (Receives the bag.)

SYR. (to CLITIPHO.) Follow me this way directly. (To CHREMES.) You in the mean while will wait here for us till we return; for there's no occasion for us to stay there long. (CLITIPHO and SYRUS go into the house of MENEDEMUS.)

CHREM. (to himself.) My daughter, in fact, has now had ten minae from me, which I consider as paid for her board; another {ten} will follow these for clothes; and then she will require two talents for her portion. How many things, {both} just {and} unjust, are sanctioned by custom![89] Now I'm obliged, neglecting my business, to look out for some one on whom to bestow my property, that has been acquired by my labor.

SCENE VIII.

Enter MENEDEMUS from his house.

MEN. (to CLINIA within.) My son, I now think myself the happiest of all men, since I find that you have returned to a rational mode of life.

CHREM. (aside.) How much he is mistaken!

MEN. Chremes, you are the very person I wanted; preserve, so far as in you lies, my son, myself, and my family.

CHREM. Tell me what you would have me do.

MEN. You have this day found a daughter.

CHREM. What then?

MEN. Clinia wishes her to be given him for a wife.

CHREM. Prithee, what kind of a person are you?

MEN. Why?

CHREM. Have you already forgotten what passed between us, concerning a scheme, that by that method some money might be got out of you?

MEN. I remember.

CHREM. That self-same thing they are now about.

MEN. What do you tell {me}, Chremes? Why surely, this Courtesan, who is at my house, is Clitipho's mistress.

CHREM. So they say, and you believe it all; and they say that he is desirous of a wife, in order that, when I have betrothed her, you may give him {money}, with which to provide gold trinkets and clothing, and other things that are requisite.

MEN. That is it, no doubt; that money will be given to his mistress.

CHREM. Of course it is to be given.

MEN. Alas! in vain then, unhappy man, have I been overjoyed; still however, I had rather any thing than be deprived of him. What answer now shall I report from you, Chremes, so that he may not perceive that I have found it out, and take it to heart?

CHREM. To heart, {indeed}! you are too indulgent to him, Menedemus.

MEN. Let me go on; I have {now} begun: assist me in this throughout, Chremes.

CHREM. Say then, that you have seen me, {and} have treated about the marriage.

MEN. I'll say {so}— what then?

CHREM. That I will do every thing; that as a son-in-law he meets my approbation; in fine, too, if you like, tell him also that she has been promised him.

MEN. Well, that's what I wanted—

CHREM. That he may the sooner ask of you, and you may as soon as possible give him what you wish.

MEN. It is my wish.

CHREM. Assuredly, before very long, according as I view this matter, you'll have enough of him. But, however that may be, if you are wise, you'll give to him cautiously, and a little at a time.

MEN. I'll do {so}.

CHREM. Go in-doors {and} see how much he requires. I shall be at home, if you should want me for any thing.

MEN. I certainly do want you; for I shall let you know whatever I do. (They go into their respective houses.)



ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

Enter MENEDEMUS from his house.

MEN. (to himself.) I am {quite} aware that I am not so overwise, or so very quick-sighted; but this assistant, prompter, and director[90] of mine, Chremes, outdoes me in that. Any one of those epithets which are applied to a fool is suited to myself, such as dolt, post, ass,[91] lump of lead; to him not one can {apply}; his stupidity surpasses them all.

Enter CHREMES, speaking to SOSTRATA within.

CHREM. Hold now, do, wife, leave off dinning the Gods with thanksgivings that your daughter has been discovered; unless you judge of them by your own disposition, and think that they understand nothing, unless the same thing has been told them a hundred times. But, in the mean time, why does my son linger there so long with Syrus?

MEN. What persons do you say are lingering?

CHREM. Ha! Menedemus, you have come opportunely. Tell me, have you told Clinia what I said?

MEN. Every thing.

CHREM. What did he say?

MEN. He began to rejoice, just like people do who wish to be married.

CHREM. (laughing.) Ha! ha! ha!

MEN. Why are you laughing?

CHREM. The sly tricks of my servant, Syrus, {just} came into my mind.

MEN. Did they?

CHREM. The rogue can even mould the countenances of people.[92]

MEN. That my son is pretending that he is overjoyed, is it that you mean?

CHREM. Just so. (Laughing.)

MEN. The very same thing came into my mind.

CHREM. A crafty knave!

MEN. Still more would you think such to be the fact, if you knew more.

CHREM. Do you say so?

MEN. Do you give attention then?

CHREM. Just stop— first I want to know this, what {money} you have squandered; for when you told your son that she was promised, of course Dromo would at once throw in a word that golden jewels, clothes, {and} attendants would be needed for the bride, in order that you might give the money.

MEN. No.

CHREM. How, no?

MEN. No, I tell you.

CHREM. Nor yet your son himself?

MEN. Not in the slightest, Chremes. He was only the more pressing on {this} one point, that the match might be concluded to-day.

CHREM. You say what's surprising. What did my {servant} Syrus do? Didn't even he {say} any thing?

MEN. Nothing at all.

CHREM. For what reason, I don't know.

MEN. For my part, I wonder at {that}, when you know other things so well. But this same Syrus has moulded your son,[93] too, to such perfection, that there could not be even the slightest suspicion that she is {Clinia's} mistress!

CHREM. What do you say?

MEN. Not to mention, then, their kissing and embracing; that I count nothing.

CHREM. What more could be done to carry on the cheat?

MEN. Pshaw!

CHREM. What do you mean?

MEN. Only listen. In the inner part of my house there is a certain room at the back; into this a bed was brought, {and} was made up with bed-clothes.

CHREM. What took place after this?

MEN. No sooner said than done, thither went Clitipho.

CHREM. Alone?

MEN. Alone.

CHREM. I'm alarmed.

MEN. Bacchis followed directly.

CHREM. Alone?

MEN. Alone.

CHREM. I'm undone!

MEN. When they had gone into {the room}, they shut the door.

CHREM. Well— did Clinia see {all} this going on?

MEN. How shouldn't he? He was with me.

CHREM. Bacchis is my son's mistress, Menedemus— I'm undone.

MEN. Why so?

CHREM. I have hardly substance to suffice for ten days.[94]

MEN. What! are you alarmed at it, because he is paying attention to his friend?

CHREM. His "she-friend" rather.[95]

MEN. If he {really} is paying it.

CHREM. Is it a matter of doubt to you? Do you suppose that there is any person of so accommodating and tame a spirit as to suffer his own mistress, himself looking on, to—

MEN. (chuckling and speaking ironically.) Why not? That I may be imposed upon the more easily.

CHREM. Do you laugh at me? You have good reason. How angry I now am with myself! How many things gave {proof}, whereby, had I not been a stone, I might have been fully sensible {of this}? What was it I saw? Alas! wretch that I am! But assuredly they shall not escape my vengeance if I live; for this instant—

MEN. Can you not contain yourself? Have you no respect for yourself? Am I not a sufficient example to you?

CHREM. For {very} anger, Menedemus, I am not myself.

MEN. For you to talk in that manner! Is it not a shame for you to be giving advice to others, to show wisdom abroad {and yet} be able to do nothing for yourself?

CHREM. What shall I do?

MEN. That which you said I failed to do: make him sensible that you are his father; make him venture to intrust every thing to you, to seek and to ask of you; so that he may look for no other resources and forsake you.[96]

CHREM. Nay, I had much rather he would go any where in the world, than by his debaucheries here reduce his father to beggary! For if I go on supplying his extravagance, Menedemus, in that case my circumstances will undoubtedly be {soon} reduced to the level of your rake.

MEN. What evils you will bring upon yourself in this affair, if you don't act with caution! You'll show yourself severe, and still pardon him at last; that too with an ill grace.

CHREM. Ah! you don't know how vexed I am.

MEN. Just as you please. What about that which I desire— that she may be married to my {son}? Unless there is any other step that you would prefer.

CHREM. On the contrary, both the son-in-law and the connection are to my taste.

MEN. What portion shall I say that you have named for your daughter? Why are you silent?

CHREM. Portion?

MEN. I say so.

CHREM. Alas!

MEN. Chremes, don't be at all afraid {to speak}, if it is but a small one. The portion is no consideration at all with us.

CHREM. I did think that two talents were sufficient, according to my means. But if you wish me to be saved, and my estate and my son, you must say to this effect, that I have settled all my property on her as her portion.

MEN. What scheme are you upon?

CHREM. Pretend that you wonder at this, and at the same time ask him the reason why I do so.

MEN. Why, really, I can't conceive the reason for your doing so.

CHREM. Why {do I do so}? To check his feelings, which are now hurried away by luxury and wantonness, and to bring him down so as not to know which way to turn himself.

MEN. What is your design?

CHREM. Let me alone, and give me leave to have my own way in this matter.

MEN. I do give you leave: is this your desire?

CHREM. It is so.

MEN. {Then} be it so.

CHREM. And now let your son prepare to fetch the bride. The other one shall be schooled in {such} language as befits children. But Syrus——

MEN. What of him?

CHREM. What? If I live, I will have him so handsomely dressed, so well combed out, that he shall always remember me as long as he lives; to imagine that I'm to be a laughing-stock and a plaything for him! So may the Gods bless me! he would not have dared to do to a widow-woman the things which he has done to me.[97] (They go into their respective houses.)

SCENE II.

Enter MENEDEMUS, with CLITIPHO and SYRUS.

CLIT. Prithee, is it really the fact, Menedemus, that my father can, in so short a space {of time}, have cast off all the {natural} affection of a parent for me? For what crime? What so great enormity have I, to my misfortune, committed? {Young men} generally do {the same}.

MEN. I am aware that this must be much more harsh and severe to you, on whom it falls; but {yet} I take it no less amiss {than you}. How it is so I know not, nor can I account for it, except that from my heart I wish you well.

CLIT. Did not you say that my father was waiting here?

Enter CHREMES from his house.

MEN. See, here he is. (MENEDEMUS goes into his house.)

CHREM. Why are you blaming me, Clitipho? Whatever I have done in this matter, I had a view to you and your imprudence. When I saw that you were of a careless disposition, and held the pleasures of the moment of the first importance, and did not look forward to the future, I took measures that you might neither want nor be able to waste this {which I have}. When, through your own {conduct}, it was not allowed me to give it you, to whom I ought before all, I had recourse to those who were your nearest relations; to them I have made over and intrusted every thing.[98] There you'll always find a refuge for your folly; food, clothing, and a roof under which to betake yourself.

CLIT. Ah me!

CHREM. It is better than that, you being my heir, Bacchis should possess this {estate of mine}.

SYR. (apart.) I'm ruined irrevocably! —Of what mischief have I, wretch that I am, unthinkingly been the cause?

CLIT. Would I were dead!

CHREM. Prithee, first learn what it is to live. When you know that, if life displeases you, then try the other.

SYR. Master, may I be allowed——?

CHREM. Say on.

SYR. But {may I} safely?

CHREM. Say on.

SYR. What injustice or what madness is this, that that in which I have offended, should be to his detriment?

CHREM. It's all over.[99] Don't you mix yourself up {in it}; no one accuses you, Syrus, nor need you look out for an altar,[100] or for an intercessor for yourself.