CTES. When I have not been engaged? That can never do.

SYR. It may.

CTES. During the daytime; but if I pass the night here, what excuse can I make, Syrus?

SYR. Dear me, how much I do wish it was the custom for one to be engaged with friends at night as well! But you be easy; I know his humor perfectly well. When he raves the most violently, I can make him as gentle as a lamb.

CTES. In what way?

SYR. He loves to hear you praised: I make a god of you to him, {and} recount your virtues.

CTES. What, mine?

SYR. Yours; immediately the tears fall from him as from a child, for {very} joy. (Starting.) Hah! take care——

CTES. Why, what's the matter?

SYR. The wolf in the fable[64]——

CTES. What! my father?

SYR. His own self.

CTES. What shall we do, Syrus?

SYR. You only be off in-doors, I'll see to that.

CTES. If he makes any inquiries, you {have seen} me nowhere; do you hear?

SYR. Can you not be quiet? (They retreat to the door of MICIO'S house, and CTESIPHO stands in the doorway.)

SCENE II.

Enter DEMEA, on the other side of the stage.

DEM. (to himself.) I certainly am an unfortunate man. In the first place, I can find my brother nowhere; and then, in the next place, while looking for him, I met a day-laborer[65] from the farm; he says that my son is not in the country, and what to do I know not——

CTES. (apart.) Syrus!

SYR. (apart.) What's the matter?

CTES. (apart.) Is he looking for me?

SYR. (apart.) Yes.

CTES. (apart.) Undone!

SYR. (apart.) Nay, do be of good heart.

DEM. (to himself.) Plague on it! what ill luck is this? I can not really account for it, unless I suppose myself {only} born for the purpose of enduring misery. I am the first to feel our misfortunes; the first to know of them all; then the first to carry the news; I am the only one, if any thing does go wrong, to take it to heart.

SYR. (apart.) I'm amused at him; he says that he is the first to know of {every thing, while} he is the only one ignorant of every thing.

DEM. (to himself.) I've now come back; and I'll go see whether perchance my brother has yet returned.

CTES. (apart.) Syrus, pray do take care that he doesn't suddenly rush in upon us here.

SYR. (apart.) Now will you hold your tongue? I'll take care.

CTES. (apart.) Never this day will I depend on your management for that, upon my faith; for I'll shut myself up with her in some cupboard[66]— that's the safest. (Goes into the house.)

SYR. (apart.) Do so, still I'll get rid of him.

DEM. (seeing SYRUS.) But see! there's that rascal, Syrus.

SYR. (aloud, pretending not to see DEMEA.) Really, upon my faith, no person can stay here, if this is to be the case! For my part, I should like to know how many masters I have— what a cursed condition this is!

DEM. What's he whining about? What does he mean? How say you, good sir, is my brother at home?

SYR. What the plague do you talk to me about, "good sir"? I'm quite distracted!

DEM. What's the matter with you?

SYR. Do you ask the question? Ctesipho has been beating me, poor wretch, and that Music-girl, almost to death.

DEM. Ha! what is it you tell me?

SYR. Aye, see how he has cut my lip. (Pretends to point to it.)

DEM. For what reason?

SYR. He says that she was bought by my advice.

DEM. Did not you tell me, a short time since, that you had seen him on his way into the country?

SYR. I did; but he afterward came back, raving like a madman; he spared nobody— ought he not to have been ashamed to beat an old man? Him whom, only the other day, I used to carry about in my arms when thus high? (Showing.)

DEM. I commend him; O Ctesipho, you take after your father. Well, I do pronounce you a man.

SYR. Commend him? Assuredly he will keep his hands to himself in future, if he's wise.

DEM. {'Twas done} with spirit.

SYR. Very much so, to be beating a poor woman, and me, a slave, who didn't dare strike him in return; heyday! very spirited indeed!

DEM. He could not {have done} better: he thought the same as I {did}, that you were the principal in this affair. But is my brother within?

SYR. He is not.

DEM. I'm thinking where to look for him.

SYR. I know where he is— but I shall not tell you at present.

DEM. Ha! what's that you say?

SYR. {I do say} so.

DEM. Then I'll break your head for you this instant.

SYR. I can't tell the person's name {he's gone to}, but I know the place where he lives.

DEM. Tell me the place then.

SYR. Do you know the portico down this way, just by the shambles? (Pointing in the direction.)

DEM. How should I but know it?

SYR. Go straight along, right up that street; when you come there, there is a descent right opposite that goes downward, go straight down that; afterward, on this side (extending one hand), there is a chapel: close by it is a narrow lane, where there's also a great wild fig-tree.

DEM. I know it.

SYR. Go through that—

DEM. But that lane is not a thoroughfare.

SYR. I' faith, that's true; dear, dear, would you take me to be in my senses?[67] I made a mistake. Return to the portico; indeed that will be a much nearer way, and there is less going round about: you know the house of Cratinus, the rich man?

DEM. I know it.

SYR. When you have passed that, keep straight along that street on the left hand;[68] when you come to the Temple of Diana, turn to the right; before you come to the {city} gate,[69] just by that pond, there is a baker's shop, and opposite to it a joiner's; there he is.

DEM. What is he doing there?

SYR. He has given some couches to be made, with oaken legs, for use in the open air.[70]

DEM. For you to carouse upon! Very fine! But {why} do I delay going to him? (Exit.)

SCENE III.

SYRUS alone.

SYR. Go, by all means. I'll work you to day, {you} skeleton,[71] as you deserve. AEschinus loiters intolerably; the breakfast's spoiling; and as for Ctesipho, he's head and ears in love.[72] I shall now think of myself, for I'll be off at once, and pick out the very nicest bit, and, leisurely sipping my cups,[73] I'll lengthen out the day. (Goes into the house.)

SCENE IV.

Enter MICIO and HEGIO.

MIC. I can see no reason here, Hegio, that I should be so greatly commended. I do my duty; the wrong that has originated with us I redress. Unless, perhaps, you thought me one of that class of men who think that an injury is purposely done them if you expostulate about any thing they have done; and yet are {themselves} the first to accuse. Because I have not acted thus, do you return me thanks?

HEG. Oh, far from it; I never led myself to believe you to be otherwise than you are; but I beg, Micio, that you will go with me to the mother of the young woman, and {repeat to her} the same; what you have told me, do you yourself tell the woman, that this suspicion of {AEschinus's fidelity} was incurred on his brother's account, {and} that this Music-girl was for him.

MIC. If you think I ought, or if there is a necessity for doing so, let us go.

HEG. You act with kindness; for you'll then both have relieved her mind who is {now} languishing in sorrow and affliction, and have discharged your duty. But if you think otherwise, I will tell her myself what you have been saying to me.

MIC. Nay, I'll go as well.

HEG. You act with kindness; all who are in distressed circumstances are suspicious,[74] to I know not what degree; they take every thing too readily as an affront; they fancy themselves trifled with on account of their helpless condition; therefore it will be more satisfactory for you to justify him to them yourself. (They go into the house of SOSTRATA.)

SCENE V.

Enter AESCHINUS.

I am quite distracted in mind! for this misfortune so unexpectedly to befall me, that I neither know what to do with myself, or how to act! My limbs are enfeebled through fear, my faculties bewildered with apprehension; no counsel is able to find a place within my breast. Alas! how to extricate myself from this perplexity I know not; so strong a suspicion has taken possession of them about me; not without some reason too: Sostrata believes that I have purchased this Music-girl for {myself}: the old woman informed me of that. For by accident, when she was sent for the midwife, I saw her, and at once went up to her. "How is Pamphila?" I inquired; "is her delivery at hand? Is it for that she is sending for the midwife?" "Away, away, AEschinus," cries she; "you have deceived us long enough; already have your promises disappointed us sufficiently." "Ha!" said I; "pray what is the meaning of this?" "Farewell," {she cries}; "keep to her who is your choice." I instantly guessed what it was they suspected, but still I checked myself, that I might not be telling that gossip any thing about my brother, whereby it might be divulged. Now what am I to do? Shall I say she is for my brother, a thing that ought by no means to be repeated any where? However, let that pass. It is possible it might go no further. I am afraid they would not believe it, so many probabilities concur {against it}: 'twas I myself carried her off; 'twas I, my own self, that paid the money {for her}; 'twas my own house she was carried to. This I confess has been entirely my own fault. Ought I not to have disclosed this affair, just as it happened, to my father? I might have obtained his consent to marry her. I have been too negligent hitherto; henceforth, then, arouse yourself, AEschinus. This then is the first thing; to go to them and clear myself. I'll approach the door. (Advances to the door of SOSTRATA'S house.) Confusion! I always tremble most dreadfully when I go to knock at that {door}. (Knocking and calling to them within.) Ho there, ho there! it is AEschinus; open the door immediately, some one. (The door opens.) Some person, I know not who, is coming out; I'll step aside here. (He stands apart.)

SCENE VI.

Enter MICIO from the house of SOSTRATA.

MIC. (speaking at the door to SOSTRATA.) Do as I told {you}, Sostrata; I'll go find AEschinus, that he may know how these matters have been settled. (Looking round.) But who was it knocking at the door?

AESCH. (apart.) Heavens, it is my father! —I am undone!

MIC. AEschinus!

AESCH. (aside.) What can be his business here?

MIC. Was it you knocking at this door? (Aside.) He is silent. Why shouldn't I rally him a little? It would be as well, as he was never willing to trust me with this {secret}. (To AESCHINUS.) Don't you answer me?

AESCH. (confusedly.) It wasn't I {knocked} at that {door}, that I know of.

MIC. Just so; for I wondered what business you could have here. (Apart.) He blushes; all's well.

AESCH. Pray tell me, father, what business have you there?

MIC. Why, none of my own; {but} a certain friend {of mine} just now brought me hither from the Forum to give him some assistance.

AESCH. Why?

MIC. I'll tell you. There are some women living here; in impoverished circumstances, as I suppose you don't know them; and, {in fact}, I'm quite sure, for it is not long since they removed to this place.

AESCH. Well, what next?

MIC. There is a girl living with her mother.

AESCH. Go on.

MIC. This girl has lost her father; this friend of mine is her next of kin; the law obliges him to marry her.[75]

AESCH. (aside.) Undone!

MIC. What's the matter?

AESCH. Nothing. Very well: proceed.

MIC. He has come to take her with him; for he lives at Miletus.

AESCH. What! To take the girl away with him?

MIC. Such is the fact.

AESCH. All the way to Miletus, pray?[76]

MIC. Yes.

AESCH. (aside.) I'm overwhelmed with grief. (To MICIO.) {But} what of them? What do they say?

MIC. What do you suppose they should? Why, nothing at all. The mother has trumped up a tale, that there is a child by some other man, I know not who, and she does not state the name; {she says} that he was the first, {and} that she ought not to be given to the other.

AESCH. Well now, does not this seem just to you after all?

MIC. No.

AESCH. Why not, pray? Is {the other} to be carrying her away from here?

MIC. Why should he not take her?

AESCH. You have acted harshly and unfeelingly, and even, if, father, I may speak my sentiments more plainly, unhandsomely.

MIC. Why so?

AESCH. Do you ask me? Pray, what do you think must be the state of mind of the man who was first connected with her, who, to his misfortune, may perhaps still love her to distraction, when he sees her torn away from before his face, {and} borne off from his sight {forever}? An unworthy action, father!

MIC. On what grounds is it so? Who betrothed her?[77] Who gave her away? When {and} to whom was she married? Who was the author of all this? Why did he connect himself with a woman who belonged to another?

AESCH. Was it to be expected that a young woman of her age should sit at home, waiting till a kinsman {of hers} should come from a distance? This, my father, you ought to have represented, and have insisted on it.

MIC. Ridiculous! Was I to have pleaded against him whom I was to support? But what's all this, AEschinus, to us? What have we to do with them? Let us begone:—— What's the matter? Why these tears?

AESCH. (weeping.) Father, I beseech you, listen to me.

MIC. AEschinus, I have heard and know it all; for I love you, and therefore every thing you do is the more a care to me.

AESCH. So do I wish you to find me deserving of your love, as long as you live, my {dear} father, as I am sincerely sorry for the offense I have committed, and am ashamed to see you.

MIC. Upon my word I believe it, for I know your ingenuous disposition: but I am afraid that you are too inconsiderate. In what city, pray, do you suppose you live? You have debauched a virgin, whom it was not lawful for you to touch. In the first place then that was a great offense; great, but still natural. Others, and even men of worth, have frequently done the same. But after it happened, pray, did you show any circumspection? Or did you use any foresight as to what was to be done, {or} how it was to be done? If you were ashamed to tell me of it, by what means was I to come to know it? While you were at a loss upon these points, ten months have been lost. So far indeed as lay in your power, you have periled both yourself {and} this poor {girl}, and the child. What did you imagine— that the Gods would set these matters to rights for you while you were asleep, and that she would be brought home to your chamber without any exertions of your own? I would not have you to be equally negligent in other affairs. Be of good heart, you shall have her for your wife.

AESCH. Hah!

MIC. Be of good heart, I tell you.

AESCH. Father, are you now jesting with me, pray?

MIC. I, {jesting} with you! For what reason?

AESCH. I don't know; but so anxiously do I wish this to be true, that I am the more afraid it may not be.

MIC. Go home, and pray to the Gods that you may have your wife; be off.

AESCH. What! have my wife now?

MIC. Now.

AESCH. Now?

MIC. Now, as soon as possible.

AESCH. May all the Gods detest me, father, if I do not love you better than even my very eyes!

MIC. What! {better} than her?

AESCH. Quite as well.

MIC. Very kind of you!

AESCH. Well, where is this Milesian?

MIC. Departed, vanished, gone on board ship; but why do you delay?

AESCH. Father, do you rather go and pray to the Gods; for I know, for certain, that they will rather be propitious to you,[78] as being a much better man than I {am}.

MIC. I'll go in-doors, that what is requisite may be prepared. You do as I said, if you are wise. (Goes into his house.)

SCENE VII.

AESCHINUS alone.

AESCH. What can be the meaning of this? Is this being a father, or this being a son? If he had been a brother or {familiar} companion, how could he have been more complaisant! Is he not worthy to be beloved? Is he not to be imprinted in my very bosom? Well then, the more does he impose an obligation on me by his kindness, to take due precaution not inconsiderately to do any thing that he may not wish. But why do I delay going in-doors this instant, that I may not myself delay my own nuptials? (Goes into the house of MICIO.)

SCENE VIII.

Enter DEMEA.

I am quite tired with walking: May the great Jupiter confound you, Syrus, together with your directions! I have crawled the whole city over; to the gate, to the pond— where not? There was no joiner's shop there; not a soul could say he had seen my brother; but now I'm determined to sit and wait at his house till he returns.

SCENE IX.

Enter MICIO from his house.

MIC. (speaking to the people within.) I'll go and tell them there's no delay on our part.

DEM. But see here's the very man: O Micio, I have been seeking you this long time.

MIC. Why, what's the matter?

DEM. I'm bringing you some new and great enormities of that hopeful youth.

MIC. Just look at that!

DEM. Fresh ones, of blackest dye.

MIC. There now— at it again.

DEM. Ah, {Micio}! you little know what sort of person he is.

MIC. I do.

DEM. O simpleton! you are dreaming that I'm talking about the Music-girl; this crime is against a virgin {and} a citizen.

MIC. I know it.

DEM. So then, you know it, and put up with it!

MIC. Why not put up with it?

DEM. Tell me, pray, don't you exclaim about it? Don't you go distracted?

MIC. Not I: certainly I had rather[79]——

DEM. There has been a child born.

MIC. May the Gods be propitious {to it}.

DEM. The girl has no fortune.

MIC. {So} I have heard.

DEM. And he— must he marry her without one?

MIC. Of course.

DEM. What is to be done then?

MIC. Why, what the case itself points out: the young woman must be brought hither.

DEM. O Jupiter! must that be the way {then}?

MIC. What can I do else?

DEM. What can you do? If in reality this causes you no concern, to pretend it were surely the duty of a man.

MIC. But I have already betrothed the young woman {to him}; the matter is settled: the marriage takes place {to-day}. I have removed all apprehensions. This is rather the duty of a man.

DEM. But does the affair please you, Micio?

MIC. If I were able to alter it, no; now, as I can not, I bear it with patience. The life of man is just like playing with dice:[80] if that which you most want to throw does not turn up, what turns up by chance you must correct by art.

DEM. {O rare} corrector! of course it is by your art that twenty minae have been thrown away for a Music-girl; who, as soon as possible, must be got rid of at any price; and if not for money, why then for nothing.

MIC. Not at all, and indeed I have no wish to sell her.

DEM. What will you do with her then?

MIC. She shall be at my house.

DEM. For heaven's sake, a courtesan and a matron in the same house!

MIC. Why not?

DEM. Do you imagine you are in your senses?

MIC. Really I do think {so}.

DEM. So may the Gods prosper me, I {now} see your folly; I believe you are going to do so that you may have somebody to practice music with.

MIC. Why not?

DEM. And the new-made bride to be learning too?

MIC. Of course.

DEM. Having hold of the rope,[81] you will be dancing with them.

MIC. Like enough; and you too along with us, if there's need.

DEM. Ah me! are you not ashamed of this?

MIC. Demea, do, for once, lay aside this anger of yours, and show yourself as you ought at your son's wedding, cheerful and good-humored. I'll just step over to them, {and} return immediately. (Goes into SOSTRATA'S house.)

SCENE X.

DEMEA alone.

DEM. O Jupiter! here's a life! here are manners! here's madness! A wife to be coming without a fortune! A music-wench in the house! A house full of wastefulness! A young man ruined by extravagance! An old man in his dotage! —Should Salvation herself[82] desire it, she certainly could not save this family. (Exit.



ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

Enter SYRUS, drunk, and DEMEA, on the opposite side of the stage.

SYR. Upon my faith, my dear little Syrus, you have taken delicate care of yourself, and have done your duty[83] with exquisite taste; be off with you. But since I've had my fill of every thing in-doors, I have felt disposed to take a walk.

DEM. (apart.) Just look at that— there's an instance of their {good} training!

SYR. (to himself.) But see, here comes our old man. (Addressing him.) What's the matter? Why out of spirits?

DEM. Oh you rascal!

SYR. Hold now; are you spouting your sage maxims here?

DEM. If you were my {servant}——

SYR. Why, you would be a rich man, Demea, and improve your estate.

DEM. I would take care that you should be an example to all the rest.

SYR. For what reason? What have I done?

DEM. Do you ask me? in the midst of this confusion, and during the greatest mischief, which is hardly yet set right, you have been getting drunk, you villain, as though things had been going on well.

SYR. (aside.) Really, I wish I hadn't come out.

SCENE II.

Enter DROMO in haste, from the house of MICIO.

DRO. Halloo, Syrus! Ctesipho desires you'll come back.

SYR. Get you gone. (Pushes him back into the house.)

DEM. What is it he says about Ctesipho?

SYR. Nothing.

DEM. How now, {you} hang-dog, is Ctesipho in the house?

SYR. He is not.

DEM. {Then} why does he mention him?

SYR. It's another person; a little diminutive Parasite. Don't you know him?

DEM. I will know him before long. (Going to the door.)

SYR. (stopping him.) What are you about? Whither are you going?

DEM. (struggling.) Let me alone.

SYR. (holding him.) Don't, I tell you.

DEM. Won't you keep your hands off, whip-scoundrel? Or would you like me to knock your brains out this instant? (Rushes into the house.)

SYR. He's gone! no very pleasant boon-companion, upon my faith, particularly to Ctesipho. What am I to do now? Why, even get into some corner till this tempest is lulled, and sleep off this drop of wine. That's my plan. (Goes into the house, staggering.)

SCENE III.

Enter MICIO, from the house of SOSTRATA.

MIC. (to SOSTRATA, within.) Every thing's ready with us, as I told you, Sostrata, when you like. —Who, I wonder, is making my door fly open with such fury?

Enter DEMEA in haste, from the house of MICIO.

DEM. Alas! what shall I do? How behave? In what terms exclaim, or how make my complaint? O heavens! O earth! O seas of Neptune!

MIC. (apart.) Here's for you! he has discovered all about the affair; {and} of course is now raving about it; a quarrel is the consequence; I must assist him,[84] {however}. DEM. See, here comes the common corrupter of my children.

MIC. Pray moderate your passion, and recover yourself.

DEM. I have moderated it; I am myself; I forbear all reproaches; let us come to the point: was this agreed upon between us,— proposed by yourself, in fact,— that you were not to concern yourself about my {son}, nor I about yours? Answer me.

MIC. It is the fact,— I don't deny it.

DEM. Why is he now carousing at your house? Why are you harboring my son? Why do you purchase a mistress for him, Micio? Is it at all fair, that I should have any less justice from you, than you from me? Since I do not concern myself about your {son}, don't you concern yourself about mine.

MIC. You don't reason fairly.

DEM. No?

MIC. For surely it is a maxim of old, that among themselves all things are common to friends.

DEM. Smartly {said}; you've got that speech up for the occasion.

MIC. Listen to a few words, unless it is disagreeable, Demea. In the first place, if the extravagance your sons are guilty of distresses you, pray do reason with yourself. You formerly brought up the two suitably to your circumstances, thinking that your own property would have to suffice for them both; and, of course, you then thought that I should marry. Adhere to that same old rule {of yours},— save, scrape together, {and} be thrifty {for them}; take care to leave them as much as possible, and {take} that credit to yourself: my fortune, which has come to them beyond their expectation, allow them to enjoy; of {your} captial there will be no diminution; what comes from this quarter, set it {all} down as so much gain. If you think proper impartially to consider these matters in your mind, Demea, you will save me and yourself, and them, {considerable} uneasiness.

DEM. I don't speak about the expense; their morals—

MIC. Hold; I understand you; that point I was coming to.[85] There are in men, Demea, many signs from which a conjecture is easily formed; {so that} when two persons do the same thing, you may often say, this one may be allowed to do it with impunity, the other may not; not that the thing {itself} is different, but that he is who does it. I see {signs} in them, so as to feel confident that they will turn out as we wish. I see that they have good sense and understanding, that they have modesty upon occasion, {and} are affectionate to each other; you may infer that their bent and disposition is of a pliant nature; at any time you like you may reclaim them. But still, you may be apprehensive that they will be somewhat too apt to neglect their interests. O my {dear} Demea, in all other things we grow wiser with age; this sole vice does old age bring upon men: we are all more solicitous about our own interests than we need be; and in this respect age will make them sharp enough.

DEM. Only {take care}, Micio, that these fine reasonings of yours, and this easy disposition of yours, do not ruin us {in the end}.

MIC. Say no more; there's no danger of that. Now think no further of these matters. Put yourself to-day into my hands; smooth your brow.

DEM. Why, as the occasion requires it, I must do so; but to-morrow {I shall be off} with my son into the country at daybreak.

MIC. Aye, to-night, for my share; only keep yourself in good-humor for the day.

DEM. I'll carry off that Music-girl along with me as well.

MIC. You will gain your point; by that means you will keep your son fast there; only take care to secure her.

DEM. I'll see to that; and what with cooking and grinding, I'll take care she shall be well covered with ashes, smoke, and meal; besides {all} this, at the very mid-day[86] I'll set her gathering stubble; I'll make her as burned and as black as a coal.

MIC. You quite delight me; now you seem to me to be wise; and for my part I would then compel my son to go to bed with her, even though he should be unwilling.

DEM. Do you banter me? Happy man, to have such a temper! I feel—

MIC. Ah! at it again!

DEM. I'll have done then at once.

MIC. Go in-doors then, and let's devote this day to the object[87] to which it belongs. (Goes into the house.)

SCENE IV.

DEMEA alone.

DEM. Never was there any person of ever such well-trained habits of life, but that experience, age, {and} custom are always bringing {him} something new, {or} suggesting something; so much so, that what you believe you know you don't know, and what you have fancied of first importance to you, on making trial you reject; and this is my case at present: for the rigid life I have hitherto led, my race nearly run, I {now} renounce. Why so? —I have found, by experience, that there is nothing better for a man than an easy temper and complacency. That this is the truth, it is easy for any one to understand on comparing me with my brother. He has always spent his life in ease {and} gayety; mild, gentle, offensive to no one, having a smile for all, he has lived for himself, {and} has spent his money for himself; all men speak well of him, {all} love him. I, {again}, a rustic, a rigid, cross, self-denying, morose and thrifty person, married a wife; what misery I entailed in consequence! Sons were born— a fresh care. And just look, while I have been studying to do as much as possible for them, I have worn out my life and years in saving; now, in the decline of my days, the return I get from them for my pains {is} their dislike. He, on the other hand, without any trouble on his part, enjoys a father's comforts; they love him; me they shun; him they trust with all their secrets, are fond of him, are {always} with him. I am forsaken; they wish him to live; but my death, forsooth, they are longing for. Thus, after bringing them up with all possible pains, at a trifling cost he has made them his own; thus I bear all the misery, he enjoys the pleasure. Well, then, henceforward let us try, on the other hand, whether I can't speak kindly and act complaisantly, as he challenges me to it: I also want myself to be loved and highly valued by my friends. If that is to be effected by giving and indulging, I will not be behind him. If our means fail, that least concerns me, as I am the eldest.[88]

SCENE V.

Enter SYRUS.

SYR. Hark you, Demea, your brother begs you will not go out of the way.

DEM. Who {is it}? —O Syrus, my {friend},[89] save you! how are you? How goes it {with you}?

SYR. Very well.

DEM. Very good. (Aside.) I have now for the first time used these three expressions contrary to my nature,— "O Syrus, my {friend}, how are you? —how goes it with you?" (To SYRUS.) You show yourself far from an unworthy servant, and I shall gladly do you a service.

SYR. I thank you.

DEM. Yes, Syrus, it is the truth; and you shall be convinced of it by experience before long.

SCENE VI.

Enter GETA, from the house of SOSTRATA.

GETA (to SOSTRATA, within.) Mistress, I am going to see after them, that they may send for the damsel as soon as possible; but see, here's Demea. (Accosting him.) Save you!

DEM. O, what's your name?

GETA. Geta.

DEM. Geta, I have this day come to the conclusion that you are a man of very great worth, for I look upon him as an undoubtedly good servant who has a care for his master; as I have found to be your case, Geta; and for that reason, if any opportunity should offer, I would gladly do you a service. (Aside.) I am practicing the affable, and it succeeds very well.

GETA. You are kind, sir, to think so.

DEM. (aside.) Getting on by degrees— I'll first make the lower classes my own.

SCENE VII.

Enter AESCHINUS, from the house of MICIO.

AESCH. (to himself.) They really are killing me while too intent on performing the nuptials with all ceremony; the {whole} day is being wasted in their preparations.

DEM. AEschinus! how goes it?

AESCH. Ha, my father! are you here?

DEM. Your father, indeed, both by affection and by nature; as I love you more than my very eyes; but why don't you send for your wife?

AESCH. {So} I wish {to do}; but I am waiting for the music-girl[90] and people to sing the nuptial song.

DEM. Come now, are you willing to listen to an old fellow like me?

AESCH. What {is it}?

DEM. Let those things alone, the nuptial song, the crowds, the torches,[91] {and} the music-girls, and order the stone wall in the garden[92] here to be pulled down with all dispatch, {and} bring her over that way; make but one house {of the two}; bring the mother and all the domestics over to our house.

AESCH. With all my heart, kindest father.

DEM. (aside.) Well done! now I am called "kind." My brother's house will become a thoroughfare; he will be bringing home a multitude, incurring expense in many ways: what matters it to me? I, as the kind {Demea}, shall get into favor. Now then, bid that Babylonian[93] pay down his twenty minae. (To SYRUS.) Syrus, do you delay to go and do it?

SYR. What {am I to do}?

DEM. Pull down {the wall}: and you, {Geta}, go and bring them across.

GETA. May the Gods bless you, Demea, as I see you so sincere a well-wisher to our family. (GETA and SYRUS go into MICIO'S house.)

DEM. I think they deserve it. What say you, {AEschinus, as to this plan}?

AESCH. I quite agree to it.

DEM. It is much more proper than that she, being sick {and} lying-in, should be brought hither through the street.

AESCH. Why, my {dear} father, I never did see any thing better contrived.

DEM. It's my way; but see, here's Micio coming out.

SCENE VIII.

Enter MICIO, from his house.

MIC. (speaking to GETA, within.) Does my brother order it? Where is he? (To DEMEA.) Is this your order, Demea?

DEM. Certainly, I do order it, and in this matter, and in every thing else, {wish} especially to make this family one with ourselves, to oblige, serve, {and} unite them.

AESCH. Father, pray let it be so.

MIC. I do not oppose it.

DEM. On the contrary, i' faith, it is what we ought to do: in the first place, she is the mother of his wife (pointing to AEschinus).

MIC. She is. What then?

DEM. An honest and respectable woman.

MIC. So they say.

DEM. Advanced in years.

MIC. I am aware of it.

DEM. Through her years, she is long past child-bearing; there is no one to take care of her; she is a lone woman.

MIC. (aside.) What can be his meaning?

DEM. It is right you should marry her; and that you, {AEschinus}, should use your endeavors to effect it.

MIC. I, marry her, indeed?

DEM. You.

MIC. I?

DEM. You, I say.

MIC. You are trifling!

DEM. {AEschinus}, if you are a man, he'll do it.

AESCH. My {dear} father——

MIC. What, ass! do you attend to him?

DEM. 'Tis all in vain; it can not be otherwise.

MIC. You are mad!

AESCH. Do let me prevail on you, my father.

MIC. Are you out of your senses? Take yourself off.[94]

DEM. Come, do oblige your son.

MIC. Are you quite in your right mind? Am I, in my five-and-sixtieth year, to be marrying at last? A decrepit old woman too? Do you advise me {to do} this?

AESCH. Do; I have promised it.[95]

MIC. Promised, indeed; be generous at your own cost, young man.

DEM. Come, what if he should ask a still greater favor?

MIC. As if this was not the greatest!

DEM. Do comply.

AESCH. Don't make any difficulty.

DEM. Do promise.

MIC. Will you not have done?

AESCH. Not until I have prevailed upon you.

MIC. Really, this is downright force.[96]

DEM. Act with heartiness, Micio.

MIC. Although this seems to me[97] to be wrong, foolish, absurd, and repugnant to my mode of life, yet, if you so strongly wish it, be it so.

AESCH. You act obligingly.

DEM. With reason I love you; but——

MIC. What?

DEM. I will tell you, when my wish has been complied with.

MIC. What now? What remains {to be done}?

DEM. Hegio here is their nearest relation; {he is} a connection of ours {and} poor; we ought to do some good for him.

MIC. Do what?

DEM. There is a little farm here in the suburbs, which you let out; let us give it him to live upon.

MIC. But is it a little one?

DEM. If it were a large one, {still} it ought to be done; he has been as it were a father to her; he is a worthy man, {and} connected with us; it would be properly bestowed. In fine, I now adopt that proverb which you, Micio, a short time ago repeated with sense and wisdom— it is the common vice of all, in old age, to be too intent upon our own interests. This stain we ought to avoid: it is a true maxim, and ought to be observed in deed.

MIC. What am I to say to this? Well then, as he desires it (pointing to AESCHINUS), it shall be given {him}.

AESCH. My father!

DEM. Now, Micio, you are {indeed} my brother, both in spirit and in body.

MIC. I am glad of it.

DEM. (aside.) I foil him at his own weapon.[98]

SCENE IX.

Enter SYRUS, from the house.

SYR. It has been done as you ordered, Demea.

DEM. You are a worthy fellow. Upon my faith,— in my opinion, at least,— I think Syrus ought at once to be made free.

MIC. He free! For what reason?

DEM. For many.

SYR. O my {dear} Demea! upon my word, you are a worthy man! I have strictly taken care of both these {sons} of yours, from childhood; I have taught, advised, {and} carefully instructed them in every thing I could.

DEM. The thing is evident; and then besides {all} this, to cater {for them}, secretly bring home a wench, prepare a morning entertainment;[99] these are the accomplishments of no ordinary person.

SYR. O, what a delightful man!

DEM. Last of all, he assisted to-day in purchasing this Music-wench— he had the management of it; it is right he should be rewarded; other servants will be encouraged {thereby}: besides, he (pointing to AESCHINUS) desires it to be so.

MIC. (to AESCHINUS.) Do you desire this to be done?

AESCH. I do wish it.

MIC. Why then, if you desire it, just come hither, Syrus, to me (performing the ceremony of manumission); be a free man.[100]

SYR. You act generously; I return my thanks to you all;— and to you, Demea, in particular.

DEM. I congratulate you.

AESCH. And I.

SYR. I believe you. I wish that this joy were made complete— that I could see my wife, Phrygia,[101] free as well.

DEM. Really, a most excellent woman.

SYR. And the first to suckle your grandchild, his son, today (pointing to AESCHINUS).

DEM. Why really, in seriousness, if she was the first to do so, there is no doubt she ought to be made free.

MIC. {What}, for doing that?

DEM. For doing that; in fine, receive the amount from me[102] at which she is valued.

SYR. May all the Gods always grant you, Demea, all you desire.

MIC. Syrus, you have thrived pretty well to-day.

DEM. If, in addition, Micio, you will do your duty, and lend him a little ready money in hand for present use, he will soon repay you.

MIC. Less than this (snapping his fingers).

AESCH. He is a deserving fellow.

SYR. Upon my word, I will repay it; only lend it me.

AESCH. Do, father.

MIC. I'll consider of it afterward.

DEM. He'll do it, {Syrus}.

SYR. O most worthy man!

AESCH. O most kind-hearted father!

MIC. How is this? What has so suddenly changed your disposition, {Demea}? What caprice {is this}? What means this sudden liberality?[103]

DEM. I will tell you:— That I may convince you of this, Micio, that the fact that they consider you an easy and kind-hearted man, does not proceed from your real life, nor, indeed, from {a regard for} virtue and justice; but from your humoring, indulging, and pampering them. Now therefore, AEschinus, if my mode of life has been displeasing to you, because I do not quite humor you in every thing, just {or} unjust, I have done: squander, buy, do what you please. But if you would rather have one to reprove and correct those faults, the results of which, by reason of your youth, you can not see, which you pursue too ardently, {and} are thoughtless upon, and in due season to direct you; behold me ready to do it for you.

AESCH. Father, we leave it to you; you best know what ought to be done. But what is to be done about my brother?

DEM. I consent. Let him have {his mistress}:[104] with her let him make an end {of his follies}.

MIC. That's right. (To the AUDIENCE.) Grant us your applause.



FOOTNOTES

[Footnote 1: From demos, "the people."]

[Footnote 2: From Mikion, a Greek proper name.]

[Footnote 3: From hegeisthai, "to lead," or "take charge of."]

[Footnote 4: From aischos, "disgrace."]

[Footnote 5: From ktesis, "a patrimony," and phos, "light."]

[Footnote 6: From sannos, "foolish."]

[Footnote 7: One of the nation of the Getae.]

[Footnote 8: See the Dramatis Personae of the Eunuchus.]

[Footnote 9: From Syria, his native country.]

[Footnote 10: See the Dramatis Personae of the Andria.]

[Footnote 11: See the Dramatis Personae of the Eunuchus.]

[Footnote 12: See the Dramatis Personae of the Heautontimorumenos.]

[Footnote 13: From kantharos "a cup."]

[Footnote 14: Of AEmilius Paulus)—This Play (from the Greek Adelphoi, "The Brothers") was performed at the Funeral Games of Lucius AEmilius Paulus, who was surnamed Macedonicus, from having gained a victory over Perseus, King of Macedon. He was so poor at the time of his decease, that they were obliged to sell his estate in order to pay his widow her dower. The Q. Fabius Maximus and P. Cornelius Africanus here mentioned were not, as some have thought, the Curale AEdiles, but two sons of AEmilius Paulus, who had taken the surnames of the families into which they had been adopted.]

[Footnote 15: Sarranian flutes)—The "Sarranian" or "Tyrian" pipes, or flutes, are supposed to have been of a quick and mirthful tone; Madame Dacier has consequently with much justice suggested that the representation being on the occasion of a funeral, the title has not come down to us in a complete form, and that it was performed with the Lydian, or grave, solemn pipe, alternately with the Tyrian. This opinion is also strengthened by the fact that Donatus expressly says that it was performed to the music of Lydian flutes.]

[Footnote 16: Being Consuls)—L. Anicius Gallus and M. Cornelius Cethegus were Consuls in the year from the Building of the City 592, and B.C. 161.]

[Footnote 17: Synapothnescontes)—Ver. 6. Signifying "persons dying together." The "Commorientes" of Plautus is lost. It has been doubted by some, despite these words of Terence, if Plautus ever did write such a Play.]

[Footnote 18: Of Diphilus)—Ver. 6. Diphilus was a Greek Poet, contemporary with Menander.]

[Footnote 19: In war, in peace, in private business)—Ver. 20. According to Donatus, by the words "in bello," Terence is supposed to refer to his friend and patron Scipio; by "in otio," to Furius Publius; and in the words "in negotio" to Laelius, who was famed for his wisdom.]

[Footnote 20: The old men)—Ver. 23. This is similar to the words in the Prologue to the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 16: "But expect nothing about the plot of this Play; the old men who will come hither will disclose the matter to you."]

[Footnote 21: To fetch him)—Ver. 24. "Advorsum ierant." On the duties of the "adversitores," see the Notes to Bohn's Translation of Plautus.]

[Footnote 22: Either have taken cold)—Ver. 36. Westerhovius observes that this passage seems to be taken from one in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 721, et seq.: "Troth, if I had had them, enough anxiety should I have had from my children; I should have been everlastingly tormented in mind: but if perchance one had had a fever, I think I should have died. Or if one in liquor had tumbled any where from his horse, I should have been afraid that he had broken his legs or neck on that occasion." It may be remarked that there is a great resemblance between the characters of Micio here and Periplecomenus in the Miles Gloriosus.]

[Footnote 23: To see you well)—Ver. 81. Cooke remarks, that though there are several fine passages in this speech, and good observations on human life, yet it is too long a soliloquy.]

[Footnote 24: I was looking for)—Ver. 81. Donatus observes that the Poet has in this place improved upon Menander, in representing Demea as more ready to wrangle with his brother than to return his compliments.]

[Footnote 25: Such a son as AEschinus)—Ver. 82. The passage pretty clearly means by "ubi nobis AEschinus sit," "when I've got such a son as AEschinus." Madame Dacier, however, would translate it: "Ask me— you, in whose house AEschinus is?" thus accusing him of harboring AEschinus; a very forced construction, however.]

[Footnote 26: Broken open a door)—Ver. 88. The works of Ovid and Plautus show that it was no uncommon thing for riotous young men to break open doors; Ovid even suggests to the lover the expediency of getting into the house through the windows.]

[Footnote 27: Does he feast)—Ver. 117. Colman has the following observation here: "The mild character of Micio is contrasted by Cicero to that of a furious, savage, severe father, as drawn by the famous Comic Poet, Caecilius. Both writers are quoted in the Oration for Caelias, in the composition of which it is plain that the orator kept his eye pretty closely on our Poet. The passages from Caecilius contain all that vehemence and severity, which, as Horace tells us, was accounted the common character of the style of that author."]

[Footnote 28: Smell of perfumes)—Ver. 117. For an account of the "unguenta," or perfumes in use among the ancients, see the Notes to Bohn's translation of Plautus.]

[Footnote 29: Will be shut out of doors)—Ver. 119. No doubt by his mistress when she has drained him of his money, and not by Micio himself, as Colman says he was once led to imagine.]

[Footnote 30: These things are)—Ver. 141. Donatus observes here, that Terence seems inclined to favor the part of mild fathers. He represents Micio as appalled at his adopted son's irregularities, lest if he should appear wholly unmoved, he should seem to be corrupting him, rather than to be treating him with only a proper degree of indulgence.]

[Footnote 31: Wished to take a wife)—Ver. 151. Donatus remarks here, that the art of Terence in preparing his incidents is wonderful. He contrives that even ignorant persons shall open the plot, as in the present instance, where we understand that Aeschinus has mentioned to Micio his intention of taking a wife, though he has not entered into particulars. This naturally leads us to the ensuing parts of the Play, without forestalling any of the circumstances.]

[Footnote 32: I am a Procurer)—Ver. 161. He says this aloud, and with emphasis, relying upon the laws which were enacted at Athens in favor of the "lenones," whose occupation brought great profits to the state, from their extensive trading in slaves. It was forbidden to maltreat them, under pain of being disinherited.]

[Footnote 33: I am a Procurer)—Ver. 188. Westerhovius supposes this part to be a translation from the works of Diphilus.]

[Footnote 34: By action of freedom)—Ver. 194. "Asserere liberati causa," was to assert the freedom of a person, with a determination to maintain it at law. The "assertor" laid hands upon the person, declaring that he or she was free; and till the cause was tried, the person whose freedom was claimed, remained in the hands of the "assertor."]

[Footnote 35: Till I return)—Ver. 196. Colman has a curious remark here: "I do not remember, in the whole circle of modern comedy, a more natural picture of the elegant ease and indifference of a fine gentleman, than that exhibited in this Scene in the character of AEschinus."]

[Footnote 36: I have sold her)—Ver. 204. He means, that if he only names a price, AEschinus will suborn witnesses to say that he has agreed to sell her, in which case AEschinus will carry her off with impunity, and the laws will not allow him to recover her; as it will then be an ordinary debt, and he will be put off with all the common excuses used by debtors.]

[Footnote 37: On more unequal terms)—Ver. 212. "Certationem comparatam." This was a term taken from the combats of gladiators, where it was usual to choose as combatants such as seemed most nearly a match for each other.]

[Footnote 38: If you had parted with ever so little)—Ver. 217. This passage is probably alluded to by Cicero, in his work, De Officiis B. ii. c. 18: "For it is not only liberal sometimes to give up a little of one's rights, but it is also profitable."]

[Footnote 39: In the very joint)—Ver. 229. "Ut in ipso articulo oppressit." Colman translates this, "Nick'd me to a hair."]

[Footnote 40: To take to Cyprus)—Ver. 230. He alludes to a famous slave-market held in the Isle of Cyprus, whither merchants carried slaves for sale, after buying them up in all parts of Greece.]

[Footnote 41: Have you by this reckoned)—Ver. 236. "Jamne enumerasti id quod ad te rediturum putes?" Colman renders this, "Well, have you calculated what's your due?" referring to the value of the Music-girl that has been taken away from him; and thinks that the following conversation between Sannio and Syrus supports that construction. Madame Dacier puts another sense on the words, and understands them as alluding to Sannio's calculation of his expected profits at Cyprus.]

[Footnote 42: Scrape together ten minae)—Ver. 242. Donatus remarks, that Syrus knows very well that AEschinus is ready to pay the whole, but offers Sannio half, that he may be glad to take the bare principal, and think himself well off into the bargain.]

[Footnote 43: He's looking for me)—Ver. 265. Donatus remarks upon the readiness with which Sannio takes the appellation of "sacrilegus," as adapted to no other person than himself.]

[Footnote 44: Flying the country)—Ver. 275. Donatus tells us, that in Menander the young man was on the point of killing himself. Terence has here softened it into leaving the country. Colman remarks: "We know that the circumstance of carrying off the Music-girl was borrowed from Diphilus; yet it is plain from Donatus that there was also an intrigue by Ctesipho in the Play of Menander; which gives another proof of the manner in which Terence used the Greek Comedies."]

[Footnote 45: He is in haste for Cyprus)—Ver. 278. Donatus remarks that this is a piece of malice on the part of Syrus, for the purpose of teasing Sannio.]

[Footnote 46: Order the couches)—Ver. 285. Those used for the purpose of reclining on at the entertainment.]

[Footnote 47: Leave me alone)—Ver. 321. Quoting from Madame Dacier, Colman has this remark here: "Geta's reply is founded on a frolicsome but ill-natured custom which prevailed in Greece— to stop the slaves in the streets, and designedly keep them in chat, so that they might be lashed when they came home for staying out so long."]

[Footnote 48: On his father's knees)—Ver. 333. It was a prevalent custom with the Greeks to place the newly-born child upon the knee of its grandfather.]

[Footnote 49: It shall be boned)—Ver. 378. The operation of boning conger-eels is often mentioned in Plautus, from whom we learn that they were best when eaten in that state, and cold.]

[Footnote 50: Serve somewhere or other as a soldier)—Ver. 385. See a similar passage in the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 722, whence it appears that it was the practice for young men of ruined fortunes to go and offer their services as mercenaries to some of the neighboring potentates. Many of the ten thousand who fought for the younger Cyrus at the battle of Cunaxa, and were led back under the command of Xenophon, were, doubtless, of this class.]

[Footnote 51: As though into a mirror)—Ver. 428. He parodies the words of Demea in l. 415, where he speaks of looking into the lives of men as into a mirror.]

[Footnote 52: Of our tribe)—Ver. 439. Solon divided the Athenians into ten tribes, which he named after ten of the ancient heroes: Erectheis, AEgeis, Pandionis, Leontis, Acamantis, Oeneis, Cecrops, Hippothoontis, AEantis, and Antiochis. These tribes were each divided into ten Demi.]

[Footnote 53: Would take her home)—Ver. 473. As his wife.]

[Footnote 54: Is among us)—Ver. 479. "In medio," "is alive," or "in the midst of us."]

[Footnote 55: Take him, bind him)—Ver. 482. In allusion to the method of examining slaves, by binding and torturing them.]

[Footnote 56: Juno Lucina)—Ver. 487. So in the Andria, l. 473, where Glycerium is overtaken with the pains of labor, she calls upon Juno Lucina.]

[Footnote 57: He was my kinsman)—Ver. 494. In the Play of Menander, Hegio was the brother of Sostrata.]

[Footnote 58: Upon this matter I'll follow)—Ver. 500. "Is, quod mihi de hae re dederat consilium, id sequar." Coleman has the following Note on this passage: "Madame Dacier rejects this line, because it is also to be found in the Phormio. But it is no uncommon thing with our author to use the same expression or verse for different places, especially on familiar occasions. There is no impropriety in it here, and the foregoing hemistich is rather lame without it. The propriety of consulting Micio, or Demea's present ill-humor with him, are of no consequence. The old man is surprised at Hegio's story, does not know what to do or say, and means to evade giving a positive answer, by saying that he would consult his brother."]

[Footnote 59: Go back now)—Ver. 506. "Redite." Demea most probably uses this word, because Hegio has come back to him to repeat the last words for the sake of greater emphasis.]

[Footnote 60: Be of good heart)—Ver. 512. Colman has the following Note here: "Donatus tells us, that in some old copies this whole Scene was wanting. Guyetus therefore entirely rejects it. I have not ventured to take that liberty; but must confess that it appears to me, if not supposititious, at least cold and superfluous, and the substance of it had better been supposed to have passed between Hegio and Sostrata within."]

[Footnote 61: At this very moment)—Ver. 519. It is very doubtful whether the words "cum maxime" mean to signify exactly "at this moment," or are intended to signify the intensity with which Demea is laboring.]

[Footnote 62: Any thing still better than that)—Ver. 522. Lemaire suggests that by these words Syrus intends to imply that he should not care if Demea were never to arise from his bed, but were to die there. Ctesipho, only taking him heartily to second his own wishes for the old man's absence, answers affirmatively "ita," "by all means," "exactly so."]

[Footnote 63: So much the worse)—Ver. 529. Schmieder observes that "tanto nequior" might have two meanings,— "so much the worse {for us}," or, as the spectators might understand it, "so much the more worthless you."]

[Footnote 64: The wolf in the fable)—Ver. 538. This was a proverbial expression, tantamount to our saying, "Talk of the devil, he's sure to appear." Servius, in his Commentary on the Ninth Eclogue of Virgil, says that the saying arose from the common belief that the person whom a wolf sets his eyes upon is deprived of his voice, and thence came to be applied to a person who, coming upon others in the act of talking about him, necessarily put a stop to their conversation. Cooke says, in reference to this passage, "This certainly alludes to a Fable of AEsop's, of the Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape: which is translated by Phaedrus, and is the tenth of his First Book." It is much more certain that Cooke is mistaken here, and that the fable of the arbitration of the Ape between the Wolf and the Fox has nothing to do with this passage. If it alludes to any fable (which from the expression itself is not at all unlikely), it is more likely to be that where the Nurse threatens that the wolf shall take the naughty Child, on which he makes his appearance, but is disappointed in his expectations, or else that of the Shepherd-boy and the Wolf. See the Stichus of Plautus, l. 57, where the same expression occurs.]

[Footnote 65: Met a day-laborer)—Ver. 542. Donatus remarks that the Poet artfully contrives to detain Demea in town, his presence being necessary in the latter part of the Play.]

[Footnote 66: With her in some cupboard)—Ver. 553. Donatus observes that the young man was silly in this, for if discovered to be there he would be sure to be caught. His object, however, for going there would be that he might not be discovered.]

[Footnote 67: Take me to be in my senses)—Ver. 580. "Censen hominem me esse?" literally, "Do you take me to be a human being?" meaning, "Do you take me to be a person in my common senses?"]

[Footnote 68: Street on the left hand)—Ver. 583. Theobald, in his edition of Shakspeare, observes that the direction given by Lancelot in the Merchant of Venice seems to be copied from that given here by Syrus: "Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the next turning of all on your left; marry, at the very next turning of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house."]

[Footnote 69: Come to the city gate)—Ver. 584. From this we discover that Demea is being sent to the very extremity of the town, as Donatus informs us that ponds of water were always close to the gates of towns, for the purpose of watering the beasts of burden, and of having a supply at hand in case the enemy should set fire to the city gates.]

[Footnote 70: The open air)—Ver. 586. Donatus remarks that it was usual for the Greeks to sit and drink in the sun; and that Syrus being suddenly asked this question shows his presence of mind by giving this circumstantial answer, that he may the better impose upon Demea. The couches used on such occasions may be presumed to have required stout legs, and to be made of hard wood, such as oak, to prevent them from splitting. Two instances of couches being used for carousing in the open air will be found in the last Scenes of the Asinaria and Stichus of Plautus.]

[Footnote 71: You skeleton)—Ver. 588. "Silicernium." This was said to be the name of a funeral entertainment or dish of meats offered up to the "umbrae" or "manes," in silence. The word is also said to have been applied to an old man from his stooping postures, "silices cernit," "he looks at the stones."]

[Footnote 72: Head and ears in love)—Ver. 590. "Totus," literally, "quite" or "altogether."]

[Footnote 73: Sipping my cups)—Ver. 592. As to the "cyathi" and cups of the ancients, see the last Scene of the Stichus of Plautus, which is a perfect specimen of a carousal among the lower classes in ancient times. See also the last Scene of the Asinaria. The slaves generally appear to have taken part in the entertainments with their young masters.]

[Footnote 74: Are suspicious)—Ver. 606. These lines are supposed to be founded on some verses of Menander which are still extant.]

[Footnote 75: Obliges him to marry her)—Ver. 655. It appears to have been a law given by Solon to the Athenians that the next male relative of suitable age should marry a female orphan himself, or find her a suitable portion. Madame Dacier suggests that the custom was derived from the Phoenicians, who had received it from the Jews, and quotes the Book of Numbers, xxxvi. 8. This law forms the basis of the plot of the Phormio.]

[Footnote 76: To Miletus, pray?)—Ver. 658. A colony of Athens, on the coast of Asia Minor.]

[Footnote 77: Who betrothed her?)—Ver. 673. Donatus observes that these questions, which enumerate all the proofs requisite for a marriage, are an indirect and very delicate reproof of AEschinus for the irregular and clandestine nature of his proceedings.]

[Footnote 78: Propitious to you)—Ver. 707. Donatus remarks that there is great delicacy in this compliment of AEschinus to Micio, which, though made in his presence, does not bear the semblance of flattery. Madame Dacier thinks that Terence here alludes to a line of Hesiod, which says that it is the duty of the aged to pray. Colman suggests that the passage is borrowed from some lines of Menander still in existence.]

[Footnote 79: Certainly I had rather)—Ver. 730. He pauses after "quidem," but he means to say that if he had his choice, he would rather it had not been so.]

[Footnote 80: Playing with dice)—Ver. 742. The "tesserae" of the ancients were cubes, or what we call "dice;" while the "tali" were in imitation of the knuckle-bones of animals, and were marked on four sides only. For some account of the mode of playing with the "tali," see the last Scene of the Asinaria, and the Curculio of Plautus, l. 257-9. Madame Dacier suggests that Menander may possibly have borrowed this passage from the Republic of Plato, B. X., where he says, "We should take counsel from accidents, and, as in a game at dice, act according to what has fallen, in the manner which reason tells us to be the best."]

[Footnote 81: Hold of the rope)—Ver. 755. "Restim ductans saltabis." Donatus and Madame Dacier think that this is only a figurative expression for a dance in which all joined hands; according to some, however, a dance is alluded to where the person who led off drew a rope or cord after him, which the rest of the company took hold of as they danced; which was invented in resemblance of the manner in which the wooden horse was dragged by ropes into the city of Troy.]

[Footnote 82: Salvation herself)—Ver. 764. See an observation relative to the translation of the word "Salus," in the Notes to Plautus, vol. i. pages 193, 450.]

[Footnote 83: Have done your duty)—Ver. 767. His duty of providing the viands and drink for the entertainment. So Ergasilus says in the Captivi of Plautus, l. 912, "Now I will go off to my government (praefecturam), to give laws to the bacon."]

[Footnote 84: I must assist him)—Ver. 795. Colman remarks on this passage: "The character of Micio appears extremely amiable through the first four Acts of this Comedy, and his behavior is in many respects worthy of imitation; but his conduct in conniving at the irregularities of Ctesipho, and even assisting him to support them, is certainly reprehensible. Perhaps the Poet threw this shade over his virtues on purpose to show that mildness and good-humor might be carried to excess."]

[Footnote 85: That point I was coming to)—Ver. 824. Colman observes here: "Madame Dacier makes an observation on this speech, something like that of Donatus on one of Micio's above; and says that Micio, being hard put to it by the real circumstances of the case, thinks to confound Demea by a nonsensical gallimatia. I can not be of the ingenious lady's opinion on this matter, for I think a more sensible speech could not be made, nor a better plea offered in favor of the young men, than that of Micio in the present instance."]

[Footnote 86: At the very mid-day)—Ver. 851. Exposed to the heat of a mid-day sun.]

[Footnote 87: To the object)—Ver. 857. The marriage and its festivities.]

[Footnote 88: Am the eldest)—Ver. 884. And therefore likely to be the first to die, and to avoid seeing such a time come.]

[Footnote 89: O Syrus, my friend)—Ver. 886. The emptiness of his poor attempts to be familiar are very evident in this line.]

[Footnote 90: The music-girl)—Ver. 908. "Tibicinae," or music-girls, attended at marriage ceremonials. See the Aulularia of Plautus, where Megadorus hires the music-girls on his intended marriage with the daughter of Euclio.]

[Footnote 91: The crowds, the torches)—Ver. 910. See the Casina of Plautus, Act IV., Scenes 3 and 4, for some account of the marriage ceremonial. The torches, music-girls, processions, and hymeneal song, generally accompanied a wedding, but from the present passage we may conclude that they were not considered absolutely necessary.]

[Footnote 92: Stone wall in the garden)—Ver. 911. The "maceria," or garden-wall of loose stones, is also mentioned in the Truculentus of Plautus, l. 301.]

[Footnote 93: Bid that Babylonian)—Ver. 918. This passage has much puzzled the Commentators; but it seems most probable that it is said aside, and that in consequence of his profuseness he calls his brother a Babylonian, (just as we call a wealthy man a nabob,) and says, "Well, let him, with all my heart, be paying twenty minae (between L70 and L80) for music-girl."]

[Footnote 94: Take yourself off)—Ver. 940. AEschinus, probably, in his earnestness, has seized hold of him with his hand, which Micio now pushes away.]

[Footnote 95: I have promised it)—Ver. 943. This is not the truth; the notion has only been started since he last saw them.]

[Footnote 96: Really, this is downright force)—Ver. 946. "Vis est haec quidem." The same expression occurs in the Captivi of Plautus, l. 755. The expression seemed to be a common one with the Romans. According to Suetonius, Julius Caesar used it when attacked by his murderers in the senate-house. On Tullius Cimber seizing hold of his garments, he exclaimed, "Ita quidem vis est!"— "Why, really, this is violence!"]

[Footnote 97: This seems to me)—Ver. 947. Donatus informs us that in Menander's Play, the old man did not make any resistance whatever to the match thus patched up for him. Colman has the following observation on this fact: "It is surprising that none of the critics on this passage have taken notice of this observation of Donatus, especially as our loss of Menander makes it rather curious. It is plain that Terence in the plan of his last Act followed Menander; but though he has adopted the absurdity of marrying Micio to the old lady, yet we learn from Donatus that his judgment rather revolted at this circumstance, and he improved on his original by making Micio express a repugnance to such a match, which it seems he did not in the Play of Menander."]

[Footnote 98: At his own weapon)—Ver. 961. He probably means, by aping the kind feeling which is a part of Micio's character.]

[Footnote 99: A morning entertainment)—Ver. 969. A banquet in the early part or middle of the day was considered by the Greeks a debauch.]

[Footnote 100: Be a free man)—Ver. 974. He touches Syrus on the ear, and makes him free. The same occurs in the Epidicus of Plautus, Act V., Sc. 2, l. 65.]

[Footnote 101: My wife, Phrygia)—Ver. 977. The so-called marriage, or rather cohabitation, of the Roman slaves will be found treated upon in the Notes to Plautus. Syrus calls Phrygia his wife on anticipation that she will become a free woman.]

[Footnote 102: Receive the amount from me)—Ver. 981. The only sign of generosity he has yet shown.]

[Footnote 103: This sudden liberality)—Ver. 989. "Quid prolubium? Quae istaec subita est largitas?" Madame Dacier tells us that this passage was borrowed from Coecilius, the Comic Poet.]

[Footnote 104: Let him have his mistress)—Ver. 1001. It must be remembered that he has the notions of a Greek parent, and sees no such criminality in this sanction as a parent would be sensible of at the present day.]

* * * * * * * * *

HECYRA; THE MOTHER-IN-LAW

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

LACHES,[1] an aged Athenian, father of Pamphilus. PHIDIPPUS,[2] an aged Athenian, father of Philumena. PAMPHILUS,[3] son of Laches. SOSIA,[4] servant of Pamphilus. PARMENO,[5] servant of Sostrata.

SOSTRATA,[6] wife of Laches. MYRRHINA,[7] wife of Phidippus. BACCRIS,[8] a Courtesan. PHILOTIS,[9] a Courtesan. SYRA,[10] a Procuress.

Scene.—Athens; before the houses of LACHES, PHIDIPPUS, and BACCHIS.

THE SUBJECT.

Pamphilus, the son of Laches by his wife Sostrata, being at the time enamored of Bacchis, a Courtesan, chances, one night, in a drunken fit, to debauch Philumena, the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina. In the struggle he takes a ring from her, which he gives to Bacchis. Some time afterward, at his father's express desire, he consents to marry. By chance the young woman whom he has ravished is given to him as a wife, to the great joy of her mother, who alone is aware of her misfortune, and hopes that her disgrace may be thereby concealed. It, however, happens otherwise; for Pamphilus, still retaining his passion for Bacchis, refuses for some time to cohabit with her. Bacchis, however, now rejects the advances of Pamphilus, who by degrees becomes weaned from his affection for her, and grows attached to his wife, whom he has hitherto disliked. Meantime, however, he is suddenly called away from home. During his absence, Philumena, finding herself pregnant in consequence of her misfortune before her marriage, fearing detection, especially avoids the company of her mother-in-law. At length she makes an excuse for returning to the home of her own parents, where she remains. Sostrata thereupon sends for her, but is answered that she is ill, on which she goes to see her, but is refused admittance to the house. On hearing of this, Laches blames his wife as being the cause of this estrangement. Pamphilus now returns, and it so happens that, on the day of his arrival, Philumena is brought to bed of a child. Impatient to see her, Pamphilus rushes into her room, and to his great distress finds that this is the case. Myrrhina thereupon entreats him to keep the matter secret, and begs him, if he refuses to receive her daughter back again, at least not to ruin her reputation by divulging it. As he now declines either to take back his wife or give his reason for so doing, Laches suspects that he is still enamored of Bacchis, and accordingly sends for her, and expostulates with her. She, however, exonerates herself; on which the old man, supposing that Philumena and her mother are equally ignorant with himself as to his son's motives, begs her to call on them and remove their suspicions. While she is conversing with them, they recognize the ring upon her finger which Pamphilus had formerly taken from Philumena. By means of this it is discovered that Pamphilus himself is the person who has ravished Philumena; on which, overjoyed, he immediately takes home his wife and son.

THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.

Performed at the Megalensian Games; Sextus Julius Csesar and Cneius Cornelius Dolabella being Curule AEdiles. The whole was not then acted. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to a pair of flutes. It was composed wholly from the Greek of Menander.[11] It was performed the first time without a Prologue. Represented a second time; Cneius Octavius and T. Manlius being Consuls.[12] It was then brought out in honor of L. AEmilius Paulus, at his Funeral Games, and was not approved of. It was repeated a third time; Q. Fulvius and L. Marcius being Curule AEdiles. L. Ambivius Turpio performed it. It was then approved of.[13]

HECYRA; THE MOTHER-IN-LAW.

THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.

Pamphilus has married Philumena, to whom, when a virgin, he formerly, not knowing who she was, offered violence; and whose ring which he took off by force, he gave to his mistress, Bacchis, a Courtesan. Afterward he sets out for Imbros, not having touched his bride. Having become pregnant, her mother brings her over to her own house, as though sick, that her mother-in-law may not know it. Pamphilus returns; detects her being delivered; conceals it; but determines not to take back his wife. His father imputes {this} to his passion for Bacchis. While Bacchis is exculpating herself, Myrrhina, the mother of the injured girl, by chance recognizes the ring. Pamphilus takes back his wife, together with his son.



THE FIRST PROLOGUE.

Hecyra[14] is the name of this Play; when it was represented for the first time, an unusual disaster and calamity[15] interrupted it, so that it could not be witnessed {throughout} or estimated; so much had the populace, carried away with admiration, devoted their attention to some rope-dancing. It is now offered as though entirely a new Play; and he who wrote it did not wish to bring it forward {then} a second time, on purpose that he might be able again to sell it.[16] Other {Plays} of his[17] you have seen represented; I beg you now to give your attention to this.



THE SECOND PROLOGUE.[18]

I come to you as an envoy from the Poet, in the character of prologue-speaker; allow me to be a successful pleader, that in my old age I may enjoy the same privilege that I enjoyed when a, younger man, when I caused new Plays, that had been {once} rejected, to come into favor; so that his writings might not die with the Poet. Among them, as to those of Caecilius,[19] which I first studied when new; in some of which I was rejected; in some I kept my ground with difficulty. As I knew that the fortune of the stage was varying, where the hopes were uncertain, I submitted to certain toil. Those I zealously attempted to perform, that from the same {writer} I might learn new ones, {and} not discourage him from his pursuits. I caused them to be represented. When seen, they pleased. Thus did I restore the Poet to his place, who was now almost weaned, through the malevolence of his adversaries, from his pursuits and labors, and from the dramatic art. But if I had at that period slighted the writer, and had wished to use my endeavors in discouraging him, so that he might live a life of idleness rather than of study, I might have easily discouraged him from writing others. Now, for my sake, hear with unbiased minds what it is I ask. I again bring before you the Hecyra, which I have never been allowed to act {before you} in silence; such misfortunes have so overwhelmed it. These misfortunes your intelligence will allay, if it is a seconder of our exertions. The first time, when I began to act this {Play}, the vauntings of boxers,[20] the expectation of a rope-dancer,[21] added to which, the throng of followers, the noise, the clamor of the women, caused me to retire from your presence before the time. In this new Play, I attempted to follow the old custom {of mine},[22] of making a fresh trial; I brought it on again. In the first Act I pleased; when in the mean time a rumor spread that gladiators were about to be exhibited; the populace flock together, make a tumult, clamor aloud, {and} fight for their places:[23] meantime, I was unable to maintain my place. Now there is no confusion: there is attention and silence— an opportunity of acting {my Play} has been granted me; to yourselves is given the power of gracing the scenic festival.[24] Do not permit, through your agency, the dramatic art to sink into the hands of a few; let your authority prove a seconder and assistant to my own. If I have never covetously set a price upon my skill, and have come to this conclusion, that it is the greatest gain in the highest possible degree to contribute to your entertainment; allow me to obtain this of you, that him who has intrusted his labors to my protection, and himself to your integrity,— that him, I {say}, the malicious may not maliciously deride, beset {by them} on every side. For my sake, admit of this plea, and attend in silence, that he may be encouraged to write other {Plays}, and that it may be for my advantage to study new ones hereafter, purchased at my own expense.[25]



ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

Enter PHILOTIS[26] and SYRA.

PHIL. I'faith, Syra, you can find but very few lovers who prove constant to their mistresses. For instance, how often did this Pamphilus swear to Bacchis— how solemnly, so that any one might have readily believed him— that he never would take home a wife so long as she lived. Well now, he is married.

SYR. Therefore, for that very reason, I earnestly both advise and entreat you to take pity upon no one, but plunder, fleece, {and} rend every man you lay hold of.

PHIL. What! Hold no one exempt?

SYR. No one; for not a single one of them, rest assured, comes to you without making up his mind, by means of his flatteries, to gratify his passion with you at the least possible expense. Will you not, pray, plot against them in return?

PHIL. And yet, upon my faith, it is unfair to be the same to all.

SYR. What! unfair to take revenge on your enemies? or, for them to be caught in the very way they try to catch you? Alas! wretched me! why do not your age and beauty belong to me, or else these sentiments {of mine} to you?

SCENE II.

Enter PARMENO from the house of LACHES.

PAR. (at the door, speaking to SCIRTUS within.) If the old man should be asking for me, do you say that I have just gone to the harbor to inquire about the arrival of Pamphilus. Do you hear what I say, Scirtus? If he asks for me, then you are to say {so}; if he does not, {why}, say nothing at all; so that at another time I may be able to employ that excuse as a new one. (Comes forward, and looking around.)—But is it my dear Philotis that I see? How has she come {here}? (Accosting her.) Philotis heartily good-morrow.

PHIL. O, good-morrow, Parmeno.

SYR. By my troth, good-morrow, Parmeno.

PAR. I'faith, Syra, the same to you. Philotis, tell me, where have you been enjoying yourself so long?

PHIL. For my part, indeed, I have been far from enjoying myself, in leaving this place for Corinth with a most brutal captain; for two whole years, there, had I to put up with him to my sorrow.

PAR. I'troth, I fancy that regret for Athens full oft possessed you, and that you thought but poorly of your foresight.

PHIL. It can not be expressed how impatient I was to return hither, get rid of the captain, and see yourselves here, that after our old fashion I might at my ease enjoy the merry-makings among you; for there it was not allowed {me} to speak, except at {the moment} prescribed, {and} on such subjects as he chose.

PAR. (sarcastically.) I don't think it was gallant in the captain to place a restraint on your tongue.

PHIL. But what is this piece of business that Bacchis has just now been telling me in-doors here? (pointing to her house.) {A thing} I never supposed would come to pass, that he, in her lifetime, could possibly prevail upon his feelings to take a wife.

PAR. To take, indeed!

PHIL. Why, look you, has he not taken one?

PAR. He has; but I doubt whether this match will be lasting.

PHIL. May the Gods and Goddesses grant it so, if it is for the advantage of Bacchis. But why am I to believe it is so? Tell me, Parmeno.

PAR. There is no need for its being spread abroad; ask me no more about it.

PHIL. For fear, I suppose, it may be made public. So may the Gods prosper me, I do not ask you in order that I may spread it abroad, but that, in silence, I may rejoice within myself.

PAR. You'll never speak me so fairly, that I shall trust my back to your discretion.

PHIL. Oh, don't {say so}, Parmeno;[27] as though you were not much more impatient to tell me this, than I to learn what I'm inquiring about.

PAR. (to himself.) She tells the truth there; and that is my greatest failing. (To PHILOTIS.) If you give me your word that you'll keep it a secret, I'll tell you.

PHIL. You are {now} returning to your {natural} disposition. I give you my word; say on.

PAR. Listen.

PHIL. I'm all attention.

PAR. Pamphilus was in the height of his passion for Bacchis here, when his father began to importune him to take a wife, and to urge those points which are usual with all fathers, that he {himself} was {now} in years, and that he was his only son, that he wished for a support for his declining years. He refused at first. But on his father pressing more urgently, he caused him to become wavering in his mind, whether to yield rather to duty or to love. By hammering on and teazing him, at last the old man gained his point; and betrothed him to the daughter of our next-door neighbor here (pointing to the house of PHIDIPPUS). This did not seem so very disagreeable to Pamphilus, until on the very point of marriage, when he saw that all was ready, and that no respite was granted, but marry he must; then, at last, he took it so much to heart, that I do believe if Bacchis had been present, {even} she would have pitied him. Whenever opportunity was afforded for us being alone, so that he could converse with me, {he used to say}: "Parmeno, I am ruined! What have I done! Into what misery have I plunged myself! Parmeno, I shall never be able to endure this. To my misery, I am undone!"

PHIL. (vehemently exclaiming.) May the Gods and Goddesses confound you, Laches, for vexing him so!

PAR. To cut the matter short, he took home his wife. On the first night, he did not touch the girl; the night that followed that, not a bit the more.

PHIL. What is it you tell me? A young man go to bed with a virgin, intoxicated to boot, {and} able to restrain himself from touching her! You do not say what's likely; nor do I believe it to be the truth.

PAR. I suppose it does seem so to you, for no one comes to you unless he is eager for you; {but} he had married her against his will.

PHIL. After this, what followed?

PAR. In a very few days after, Pamphilus took me aside, away from the house, and told me how that the young woman was still untouched by him; and {how} that before he had taken her home as his wife, he had hoped to be able to endure this marriage: "But, Parmeno, as I can not resolve to live with her any longer, it is neither honorable in me, nor of advantage to the young woman herself, for her to be turned to ridicule, but rather I ought to return her to her relations just as I received her."

PHIL. You tell me of a conscientious and virtuous disposition in Pamphilus.

PAR. "For me to declare this, I consider to be inconvenient to me, but for her to be sent back to her father without mentioning any blame, would be insolent; but I am in hopes that she, when she is sensible that she can not live with me, will go at last {of her own accord}."

PHIL. What {did he do} in the mean while? Used he to visit Bacchis?

PAR. Every day. But as {usually} is the case, after she saw that he belonged to another, she immediately became more ill-natured and more peevish.

PHIL. I'faith, that's not to be wondered at.

PAR. And this circumstance in especial contributed to estrange him from her; after he had fairly examined himself, and her, and the one that was at home, he formed a judgment, by comparison, upon the principles of them both. She, just as might be expected from a person of respectable and free birth, chaste {and} virtuous, patient under the slights and all the insults of her husband, and concealing his affronts. Upon this, his mind, partly overcome by compassion for his wife, partly constrained by the insolence of the other, was gradually estranged from Bacchis, and transferred its affections to the other, after having found a congenial disposition. In the mean time, there dies at Imbros[28] an old man, a relative of theirs. His property there devolved on them by law. Thither his father drove the love-sick Pamphilus, much against his will. He left his wife here with his mother, for the old man has retired into the country; he seldom comes into the city.

PHIL. What is there yet in this marriage to prevent its being lasting?

PAR. You shall hear just now. At first, for several days, there really was a good understanding between them. In the mean time, however, in a strange way, she began to take a dislike to Sostrata; nor yet was there ever any quarrel or words between them.

PHIL. What then?

PAR. If at any time she came to converse with her, she would instantly withdraw from her presence,[29] and refuse to see her; in fine, when she could no longer endure her, she pretended that she was sent for by her mother to assist at a sacrifice. When she had been there a few days, {Sostrata} ordered her to be fetched. She made some, I know not what, excuse. Again she gave similar orders; no one sent back {any excuse}. After she had sent for her repeatedly, they pretended that the damsel was sick. My {mistress} immediately went to see her; no one admitted her. On the old man coming to know of this, he yesterday came up from the country on purpose, {and} waited immediately upon the father of Philumena. What passed between them, I do not know as yet; but really I do feel some anxiety in what way this is to end. You {now} have the whole matter; {and} I shall proceed whither I was on my way.

PHIL. And I too, for I made an appointment with a certain stranger[30] to meet him.

PAR. May the Gods prosper what you undertake!

PHIL. Farewell!

PAR. And a kind farewell to you, my dear Philotis. (Exeunt severally.



ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.[31]

Enter LACHES and SOSTRATA, from the house of the former.

LACH. O faith of Gods and men! what a race is this! what a conspiracy this! that all women should desire and reject every individual thing alike! And not a single one can you find to swerve in any respect from the disposition of the rest. For instance, quite as though with one accord, do all mothers-in-law hate their daughters-in-law. Just in the same way is it their system to oppose their husbands; their obstinacy {here} is the same. In the very same school they all seem to me to have been trained up to perverseness. Of that school, if there is any mistress, I am very sure that she (pointing at SOSTRATA) it is.

SOS. Wretched me! when now I don't so much as know why I am accused!

LACH. Eh! you don't know?

SOS. So may the Gods kindly prosper me, Laches, and so may it be allowed us to pass our lives together in unity!

LACH. (aside.) May the Gods avert {such} a misfortune!

SOS. I'm sure that before long you will be sensible that I have been accused by you undeservedly.

LACH. You, undeservedly? Can any thing possibly be said that you deserve in return for this conduct of yours? You, who are disgracing both me and yourself and the family, {and} are laying up sorrow for your son. Then besides, you are making our connections become, from friends, enemies to us, who have thought him deserving for them to intrust their children[32] to him. You alone have put yourself forward, by your folly, to be causing this disturbance.

SOS. What, I?

LACH. You, woman, I say, who take me to be a stone, not a man. Do you think because it's my habit to be so much in the country, that I don't know in what way each person is passing his life here? I know much better what is going on here than there, where I am daily; for this reason, because, just as you act at home, I am spoken of abroad. Some time since, indeed, I heard that Philumena had taken a dislike to you; nor did I the least wonder at it; indeed, if she hadn't done so, it would have been more surprising. But I did not suppose that she would have gone so far as to hate even the whole of the family; if I had known {that}, she should have remained here in preference, {and} you should have gone away. But consider how undeservedly these vexations arise on your account, Sostrata; I went to live in the country, in compliance with your request, and to look after my affairs, in order that my circumstances might be able to support your lavishness and comforts, not sparing my own exertions, beyond what's reasonable and my time of life allows. That you should take no care, in return for all this, that there should be nothing to vex me!

SOS. Upon my word, through no means or fault of mine has this taken place.

LACH. Nay, {through you} in especial; you were the only person here; on you alone, Sostrata, falls all the blame. You ought to have taken care of matters here, as I had released you from other anxieties. Is it not a disgrace for an old woman to pick a quarrel with a girl? You will say it was her fault.

SOS. Indeed I do not say so, my {dear} Laches.

LACH. I am glad of that, so may the Gods prosper me, for my son's sake. I am quite sure {of this}, that no fault of yours can possibly put you in a worse light.

SOS. How do you know, my husband, whether she may not have pretended to dislike me, on purpose that she might be more with her mother?

LACH. What say you {to this}? Is it not proof sufficient, when yesterday no one was willing to admit you into the house, when you went to see her?

SOS. Why, they told me that she was very ill just then; for that reason I was not admitted to her.

LACH. I fancy that your humors are more her malady than any thing else; and with good reason in fact, for there is not one of you but wants her son to take a wife; and the match which has taken your fancy must be the one; when, at your solicitation, they have married, {then}, at your solicitation, they are to put them away again.

SCENE II.

Enter PHIDIPPUS from his house.

PHID. (speaking to PHILUMENA within.) Although I am aware, Philumena, that I have the right to compel you to do what I order, still, being swayed by the feelings of a father, I will prevail {upon myself} to yield to you, and not oppose your inclination.

LACH. And look, most opportunely I see Phidippus; I'll presently know from him how it is. (Accosting him.) Phidippus, although I am aware that I am particularly indulgent to all my family, still it is not to that degree to let my good nature corrupt their minds. And if you would do the same, it would be more for your own interest and ours. At present I see that you are under the control of those {women}.

PHID. Just look at that, now!

LACH. I waited on you yesterday about your daughter; you sent me away just as wise as I came. It does not become you, if you wish this alliance to continue, to conceal your resentment. If there is any fault on our side, disclose it; either by clearing ourselves, or excusing it, we shall remedy these matters for you, yourself the judge. But if this is the cause of detaining her at your house, because she is ill, {then} I think that you do me an injustice, Phidippus, if you are afraid lest she should {not} be attended with sufficient care at my house. But, so may the Gods prosper me, I do not yield in this to you, although you are her father, that you can wish her well more than {I do}, and that on my son's account, who I know values her not less than his own self. Nor, in fact, is it unknown to you, how much, {as} I believe, it will vex him, if he comes to know[33] of this; for this reason, I wish to have her home before he returns.

PHID. Laches, I am sensible of both your carefulness and your good-will, and I am persuaded that all you say is just as you say: and I would have you believe me in this; I am anxious for her to return to you, if I possibly can by any means effect it.

LACH. What is it prevents you from effecting it? Come, now, does she make any complaint against her husband?

PHID. By no means; for when I urged it still more strongly, and attempted to constrain her by force to return, she solemnly protested that she couldn't possibly remain with you, while Pamphilus was absent. Probably each has his own failing; I am naturally of an indulgent disposition; I can not thwart my own family.

LACH. (turning to his wife, who stands apart.) Ha! Sostrata![34]

SOS. (sighing deeply.) Alas! wretched me!

LACH. (to PHIDIPPUS.) Is this your final determination?

PHID. For the present, at least, as it seems; but have you any thing else to say? for I have some business that obliges me to go at once to the Forum.

LACH. I'll go with you. (Exeunt.

SCENE III.

SOSTRATA alone.

SOS. Upon my faith, we assuredly are all of us hated by our husbands with equal injustice, on account of a few, who cause us all to appear deserving of harsh treatment. For, so may the Gods prosper me, as to what my husband accuses me of, I am quite guiltless. But it is not so easy to clear myself, so strongly have people come to the conclusion that all step-mothers are harsh: i'faith, not I, indeed, for I never regarded her otherwise than if she had been my own daughter; nor can I conceive how this has befallen me. But really, for many reasons, I long for my son's return home with impatience. (Goes into her house.)