ACT · III

ACT · IIIEnter CHREMES.CHREMES.INEVER saw such a woman; never in all my life.Upon my word I am sorry for poor Menedemus now:What would he have done without me? What a predicament!780Suppose his son had returned, and he with his simple heartHad given in, and had this woman to live in his house—Well, thanks to me he is safe. Forty pounds, I think,Was not so dear a bargain: and yet ’tis a tidy sum.As much as I should make on a small consignment of sponges:And that I have paid on risk—although I cannot doubtBut that Menedemus will gladly pay me again—’tis risked.All for this paper, wherein the lady promisesIn consideration of this same money made over to her,Never again to receive the addresses of her quondam lover,790Clinia; signed Gorgo: a genuine business.And yet no wonder she laughed; of course she thinks me a foolTo consider her promise of weight. Ah, mistress, giggle and all,I’ve settled your hash. Ha! ha! ’twas clever of Pamphilus:The lad has some of my wits. But still I shall be uneasy,Until I find Menedemus is reasonable:—indeedI’ll lose no time. Menedemus might desire to comeAnd judge for himself: I’ll press him to do so: ’twere best, and thenHe’ll dine with us after all, & I shall dine much betterMyself, I must confess, when I know my money is safe.[Exit into Menedemus’ garden.Enter Philolaches and Pamphilus disguised as Persians.PHILOLACHES.Now don’t you think we are unmistakable Persians, eh?PAMPHILUS.The essence of Central Asia: I shouldn’t fear to meetThe shade of Themistocles.Ph.Indeed, I’ll bet my lifeYour mother would never know you. Is it not a miracleWhat these wide snowy trousers & black beards will do?Pam.I like the hat.Ph.Is it comfortable?Pam.It fits like fun.Have you your tale by heart?Ph.I shan’t go wrong in that.You must speak mock high-Persian; as interpreterI will make sense of nonsense. Be grave too.808Pam.If I laugh,I’ve got a pretty good sleeve to laugh in. Let us go.But stay—which gate shdgood true Persians enter by?In at the garden gate, or round the house to the front?Ph.Suppose we try the garden. Isn’t this the garden?Pam.Yes.Ph.I’ll lead. You know the way too well.[They go to the garden gate and there meet Chremes re-entering.Pam.Gods, here’s my father!Chr.(aside). Why, who in the name of wonder are these queer foreigners?Ph.Liertos tulvo.Chr.Sir, I do not understand you.Pam.(to Phil, aside). Tell him we want Menedemus, and get him out of the way.—Mefarim burne sin menedemus ryneas.Ph.The prince salutes my lord, and asks if here in the earthAre the thresholds of lord Menedemus.Chr.Ah, you speak our tongue.’Tis well. This is his house. What would you with him?Pam.(to Phil.).Heavens!What will you say?Ph.Go on.821Pam.Aproysi thulnear.Kekachylos ratulian dricho bresnion oin.Ph.My lord has bid me say we are Persians, sir, arrivedWith tidings to lord Menedemus.Chr.(aside).Ah! I guessed as much.This should be news of Clinia: bad news too, I think.Their Asiatic gravity cannot quite concealA strange anxiety. If he’s dead, my money is lost,My forty pounds all gone. I’ll learn the truth at once—The news, sir, that ye bring, concerns it the old man’s son?Ph.(aside). We’re in for it.Pam.(aside).Put him off. Say we bear secret tidings.—830Nuspiol onayrmico.Ph.My lord, sir, will not speakBut only with lord Menedemus.Chr.(aside).That’s unfortunate.How shall I find it out? Menedemus is gone from home:I’m sure he’d wish them to tell me; and ’twould be kindness’ selfGently to break the news to the poor old man. SupposeI say that I’m Menedemus. I’m sure that scowling fellowWould drive him out of his wits with fright. Ay, so I’ll do.—Sir, tell your master that I’m Menedemus.Pam.(to Phil.).Ho; the deuce!What’s to be done?Ph.(to Pam.). The old liar. It’s all the same in the end.He’ll tell Menedemus for us. Go on.840Pam.VequamielSarepo maneas, camerusyn náslonon.Ph.I am bid to tell thee, sir, the news is of thy son.Chr.Is’t bad news?Ph.Very bad.Chr.Alas!Pam.(aside).Now must my fatherAct for himself. He’ll not discover me.Chr.I pray,Tell me the worst. I am not entirely unprepared.Conceal nothing.Pam.Bios emelto ormimosNasephon feldido bo Chrysnotaparoys.Ph.Clinia, thy son, was slain in battle by the princeNasephonon the plains OfChrysnotaparoys.Chr.(aside). My money is paid for nothing: how very provoking! But now850I must not forget the part I am playing. I must affectIn some degree the sorrow which Menedemus would feel.—Alas, my dear son, ah, alas, my dear son, slain,Slain dead upon the plains of . . .Pam.Chrysnotaparoys.Chr.OfChrysnotaparoys. Alas! how was he slain?Ph.My master now will tell.Pam.Hastoripeson non.Ph.They pierced him through with spears.Pam.Bo naslon tyvamo.Chr.What’s that?Ph.They cut off his head.Pam.Vem dreschim pailekin.Ph.They tore him limb from limb.Chr.Alas, my son! no hope.—(Aside.) I don’t know what to say.—Barbarian beasts!Ph.Oh, sir!Wreak not thy wrath on us, the unwilling messengersOf mournful tidings.Chr.Pray don’t take me now for a fool:I perfectly understand, that my obligation to youIs as great as if the news you brought was good. Go on.Pardon the hasty expression that burst from me in my woe.If yet there is more, don’t scruple to tell it.Ph.We thank thee.Pam.CatrosUscorino fricosan non.Ph.They flayed him alive.Pam.(aside to Phil.). You’ve killed him twice.Chr.O horror!Ph.(aside to Pam.). Give me a long one now.—Pam.Permason cralti abritheos nasolion,Ilno synorpin mudi.Ph.Ere he died, thy son870Sent thee a message, sir. There lives in the town hard byA poor old widow woman from Corinth . . .Chr.I know. Her daughterMy son fell madly in love with, was even on the point to marry.’Twould never have done: she was not at all the sort of woman.Tell me, sirs, when you came.Ph.Our ship arrived this morning;And since we sail to-night, ’twill save thee needless troubleTo make thy gift to the prince my master here at once,According to Persian custom.Chr.Ask you for money, sir?Ph.That is the Persian custom.Chr.(aside).Most annoying this!—Sir, I will send it you.Ph.We would not trouble thee:We’ll wait, sir, while thou fetchest it.Chr.(aside).What in the world to do?881These Persians have an uncommon sharp eye to the main chance:I’ll try one piece of gold if ’twill content him.—Sir,Give this then to your master.Ph.It will not satisfy him.For he is a potentate: but I will obey thee, sir.Pam.Tartys chribos!(Puts hand on sword.)Ph.See, sir, he doth not like it.Chr.Well,I am but a poor man, but what is right I’ll do.Look! here are four more pieces, and that is all I have.And pray consider, sirs, the mournful news you bringCannot be held of value, as joyful tidings might.(Gives.)(Aside.) I hope this may content them: ’tis not much. Menedemus890Will after all be spared the expense of a funeral.Pam.Jopisco morca.Ph.Sir, he is still but ill contented.Chr.Then wait, sirs. I’ll go in and fetch you what I may.Ph.We will await thee here.[Exit.Chr.(aside). I’ll go and find Menedemus.Ph.Now let’s be off at once.Pam.What sport! O gods! five pounds!He never made me so handsome a present in all my life.I’ve tried all kinds of dodges to screw coin out of him,But I never could: and you’ve come round him twice to-day.I’ll arrange with you for some more adventures of this sort.899Ph.Stay,Half this is mine.Pam.And welcome.Enter Menedemus at back unperceived: he watches them.Ph.What made your governorTell all those lies?Pam.Just like him.Ph.Why should he pretendTo be Menedemus?Pam.Merely to meddle: besides no doubtHe was anxious about the money we cheated him of this morning;He wishes now he was off his bargain with Gorgo.Ph.Ay.He gave you a blessing this morning.Pam.May the gods bless him.I love him at this moment.Ph.Come, we must be gone.Pam.Hercules! there is old Menedemus himself.Make haste!I hope he has not overheard us.Ph.March by in good style.Pam.Chrysnotaparoys.Ph.Bo Chrysnotaparoys.MENEDEMUS.910Chrysnotaparoys! Whatever jargon is this?Queer-looking fellows too to be prowling about my house,And talking of me. Some maskers my neighbour Chremes hiresTo honour the Feast of Bacchus. A stupid, vulgar fashion,This orientalising, in great vogue too, and stillGains ground, I fear; and this is one of the gaudy-days.’Tis well I did not accept his invitation to dine.Mummery and tomfoolery! Alas, I have been all dayMore nervous and anxious than ever. I even thought this morningI heard my poor son’s voice: so certain I was that I ranTo the end of the garden and looked.—Surely I was either born920With a mind most singularly sensible of grief, or elseThe saying is not true that time is sorrow’s cure.My sorrow rather increases upon me every day,And the longer he is away the more do I yearn for him,And miss him.Re-enter Chremes from Menedemus’ house.Chr.(aside). Why here he is, just when I’d given him up.—O Menedemus!Men.What is the matter?Chr.Alas, Menedemus!Men.You frighten me, Chremes.Chr.I’ve sought you everywhere.Men.I had to go in the town. Is anything wrong?Chr.I cameTo tell you how I had done you a service; light of heart.930Because I had done you a service, knew you must approve,And did not doubt that you would repay me a little sumThat I ventured on your behalf.Men.Certainly, Chremes; well?Chr.I knew you would, but still I came to explain at once.I sought for you in your garden in vain; and coming out,Intending to go to your house, just as I opened the gate,Just here, I met two foreigners strangely dressed.Men.In white?Chr.You saw them?Men.A moment ago. Who are they?Chr.The elder oneAddressed me in Persian.Men.In Persian, did he? What did he say?Chr.I’ll tell you. When they saw me at your gate, coming out,They thought most naturally that I was you.940Men.I see.Chr.I did not undeceive them.Men.They thought that you were me?Chr.They did.Men.I have little doubt but that they are revellers,Who knowing what you, Chremes, would call my folly, cameTo play some practical joke. They said they were Persians?Chr.Yes.Men.With news of Clinia?Chr.Yes.Men.This sort of impertinenceProvokes me, Chremes; ’tis want of respect. Suppose I amSomewhat old-fashioned, yet to be idly trifled with,In a matter in which I feel so deeply . . .Chr.Pray heaven you are right.I did suspect them myself at first: but when they spoke . . .Men.What did they say?Chr.I dare not tell you.950Men.You need not fear.Chr.They said your son was dead. They saw him killed by a prince,In a battle at Chrysno . . . Chrysno . . .Men.Chrysnotaparoys?Chr.Ha! is it a famous place?Men.I never heard of it, Chremes.Chr.Then how did you know?Men.They were talking together as I came in.Chr.That should convince you, and then the dying message he sent.Men.What’s that?Chr.The tale you know. The old Corinthian widow,Whose daughter he was in love with . . .Men.Did they say, may I ask,All this in Persian?Chr.One did: yes—but I confess,959That in spite of a few expressions I was able to understand,I had to trust very much to the one that interpreted.Men.But him I should understand?Chr.I don’t say but what you might.Men.It’s forty years since I was in Persia: but this I know,That is not a Persian dress, and I think I ought to rememberAt least the sound of the language. If you could find these menAnd send them to me . . .Chr.I will. They promised to wait for me.They’re not far off: I’ll fetch them at once.Men.Stay! ere you go—I wanted to tell you, Chremes, I have quite made up my mindConcerning the girl: my duty is plain enough.Chr.What is it?969Men.To adopt her: for if my son returns, to find her hereUnder my care, protected & loved as I shall love her,Will be a bond between us to make him forget the past,My harshness and all; while should he be killed or die abroad,—Which God forbid—or never return, I have then no heir,And the only consolation remaining to me in the worldIs the loving her, whom he would have made my daughter, and whomI shall love like him.Chr.You won’t.Men.Why not?Chr.I shall convince youThat you will do nothing of the sort.Men.Why not?Chr.You wouldn’t ask,If you only knew what a creature she is.Men.You know her?Chr.Ay.Men.But how? You never told me.Chr.She is spending the day at my house.980’Twas this I was coming to tell you about, but the other matterHad driven it out of my head. I thought to discover for you(Seeing you did not know) what kind of person she was;That I might judge and tell you, whether you most were wrongIn being at first so harsh to your son, or now to yourself.So I asked her to spend the day at my house. It has ended in this,That when I saw what kind of woman she really was,I offered her forty pounds if she would renounce your son.Believe me, she jumped at the bargain; so then, to prevent mistake,I made her sign a paper to that effect. I hold it.It cost me forty pounds; and that’s the money I said,991That I had advanced for you.Men.’Twas very kind of you, Chremes.You see I am shocked.Chr.Nay, don’t give way.Men.You have dashed my hope.I was not prepared for this. Freeborn I knew she was not;But this I never suspected.Chr.Come to my house and see.I wish you to judge for yourself.Men.She is there?Chr.She is there, do you ask?Ay, to my cost she is there. No sooner she comes to the door,Than all is to be topsy-turvy. She calls me ‘old man!’Asks if the bath is ready, and presently calls for wine.She’ll take a ‘whetting brusher,’ she says. The quantity1000She wasted in merely tasting was more than most men drink.She kept me an hour on my legs before she was pleased, and thenDrank like a fish, & laughed at nothing & everything.Had it not been for you, Menedemus, I promise youI could not have stood it.Men.I feel extremely obliged to you,And sorry for this. You have been most friendly in all you have done.I cannot doubt you are right. But still whatever she is,I’d like to see her once. I can’t dine with you;—arrangeTo send her across to me. Explain to her who I am;And let me judge for myself if it is so impossibleTo carry out my former intention as you believe.1011Chr.By all means. I shall be glad enough to be rid of her.I go at once.Men.And find those Persians, whoever they are.Chr.Indeed I must. For either I was grossly deceivedIn a manner I cannot believe—I gave them money too—Or else—Men.Well, lose no time, I pray: I am less at easeIn the matter now, than when you told me first.Chr.IndeedI fear you have cause: I’ll go at once. Farewell.[Exit.Men.Farewell.A silly hoax no doubt. I wish ’twere half as likely1019That Chremes was wrong about the girl. ’Tis very strangeThat he should suddenly take such an active interestIn my affairs. I think he’s a little meddlesome,With all his kindness and thought. But that’s the way of the world.[Exit.Re-enter Chremes and Pamphilus.Chr.See Gorgo at once, I say, and get it back if you can.Pam.Why, father?Chr.I’ll tell you. Clinia your friend is dead.Pam.Impossible.Chr.No. I have seen two Persians just arrived,Who say he was slain in battle.Pam.Does old Menedemus know?Chr.He does.Pam.And how does he take it?Chr.Why? How should he take it?Pam.How should I know? The cross old hunks.Chr.Stop! Pamphilus.1029You wrong him; he’s distracted: and now in consequence,He has made up his mind to adopt that woman.Pam.Gorgo?Chr.Yes.How can you laugh?Pam.Well, if he adopts her, what’s the useOf asking her for the money now? Menedemus will pay.Chr.You do, please, as I say. Of course it’s impossibleTo adopt her: I intimated to him as much, but stillHe wants to judge for himself. I promised to send her tó him.As soon as the ladies return from the bath explain this tó her.And take her across; at least if I’m not back from town.Pam.You go to the town?Chr.I have promised to bring these Persians back;1039We wish to establish the news they brought. They half engagedTo await me here, but it seems they are gone.Pam.Can I go fór you?Chr.Ay, ay. Yet no. (aside) Nay, I shall have to explain to themThat I am not Menedemus,—I fear I must go myself.I think I shall not be long. You do as I told you, please;And tell your mother where I am gone.Pam.I hope you’ll find them.[Exit.Chr.I shan’t come back without ’em.Pam.(aside).Good-bye then, dad, for ever!

Enter CHREMES.CHREMES.INEVER saw such a woman; never in all my life.Upon my word I am sorry for poor Menedemus now:What would he have done without me? What a predicament!780Suppose his son had returned, and he with his simple heartHad given in, and had this woman to live in his house—Well, thanks to me he is safe. Forty pounds, I think,Was not so dear a bargain: and yet ’tis a tidy sum.As much as I should make on a small consignment of sponges:And that I have paid on risk—although I cannot doubtBut that Menedemus will gladly pay me again—’tis risked.All for this paper, wherein the lady promisesIn consideration of this same money made over to her,Never again to receive the addresses of her quondam lover,790Clinia; signed Gorgo: a genuine business.And yet no wonder she laughed; of course she thinks me a foolTo consider her promise of weight. Ah, mistress, giggle and all,I’ve settled your hash. Ha! ha! ’twas clever of Pamphilus:The lad has some of my wits. But still I shall be uneasy,Until I find Menedemus is reasonable:—indeedI’ll lose no time. Menedemus might desire to comeAnd judge for himself: I’ll press him to do so: ’twere best, and thenHe’ll dine with us after all, & I shall dine much betterMyself, I must confess, when I know my money is safe.[Exit into Menedemus’ garden.Enter Philolaches and Pamphilus disguised as Persians.PHILOLACHES.Now don’t you think we are unmistakable Persians, eh?PAMPHILUS.The essence of Central Asia: I shouldn’t fear to meetThe shade of Themistocles.Ph.Indeed, I’ll bet my lifeYour mother would never know you. Is it not a miracleWhat these wide snowy trousers & black beards will do?Pam.I like the hat.Ph.Is it comfortable?Pam.It fits like fun.Have you your tale by heart?Ph.I shan’t go wrong in that.You must speak mock high-Persian; as interpreterI will make sense of nonsense. Be grave too.808Pam.If I laugh,I’ve got a pretty good sleeve to laugh in. Let us go.But stay—which gate shdgood true Persians enter by?In at the garden gate, or round the house to the front?Ph.Suppose we try the garden. Isn’t this the garden?Pam.Yes.Ph.I’ll lead. You know the way too well.[They go to the garden gate and there meet Chremes re-entering.Pam.Gods, here’s my father!Chr.(aside). Why, who in the name of wonder are these queer foreigners?Ph.Liertos tulvo.Chr.Sir, I do not understand you.Pam.(to Phil, aside). Tell him we want Menedemus, and get him out of the way.—Mefarim burne sin menedemus ryneas.Ph.The prince salutes my lord, and asks if here in the earthAre the thresholds of lord Menedemus.Chr.Ah, you speak our tongue.’Tis well. This is his house. What would you with him?Pam.(to Phil.).Heavens!What will you say?Ph.Go on.821Pam.Aproysi thulnear.Kekachylos ratulian dricho bresnion oin.Ph.My lord has bid me say we are Persians, sir, arrivedWith tidings to lord Menedemus.Chr.(aside).Ah! I guessed as much.This should be news of Clinia: bad news too, I think.Their Asiatic gravity cannot quite concealA strange anxiety. If he’s dead, my money is lost,My forty pounds all gone. I’ll learn the truth at once—The news, sir, that ye bring, concerns it the old man’s son?Ph.(aside). We’re in for it.Pam.(aside).Put him off. Say we bear secret tidings.—830Nuspiol onayrmico.Ph.My lord, sir, will not speakBut only with lord Menedemus.Chr.(aside).That’s unfortunate.How shall I find it out? Menedemus is gone from home:I’m sure he’d wish them to tell me; and ’twould be kindness’ selfGently to break the news to the poor old man. SupposeI say that I’m Menedemus. I’m sure that scowling fellowWould drive him out of his wits with fright. Ay, so I’ll do.—Sir, tell your master that I’m Menedemus.Pam.(to Phil.).Ho; the deuce!What’s to be done?Ph.(to Pam.). The old liar. It’s all the same in the end.He’ll tell Menedemus for us. Go on.840Pam.VequamielSarepo maneas, camerusyn náslonon.Ph.I am bid to tell thee, sir, the news is of thy son.Chr.Is’t bad news?Ph.Very bad.Chr.Alas!Pam.(aside).Now must my fatherAct for himself. He’ll not discover me.Chr.I pray,Tell me the worst. I am not entirely unprepared.Conceal nothing.Pam.Bios emelto ormimosNasephon feldido bo Chrysnotaparoys.Ph.Clinia, thy son, was slain in battle by the princeNasephonon the plains OfChrysnotaparoys.Chr.(aside). My money is paid for nothing: how very provoking! But now850I must not forget the part I am playing. I must affectIn some degree the sorrow which Menedemus would feel.—Alas, my dear son, ah, alas, my dear son, slain,Slain dead upon the plains of . . .Pam.Chrysnotaparoys.Chr.OfChrysnotaparoys. Alas! how was he slain?Ph.My master now will tell.Pam.Hastoripeson non.Ph.They pierced him through with spears.Pam.Bo naslon tyvamo.Chr.What’s that?Ph.They cut off his head.Pam.Vem dreschim pailekin.Ph.They tore him limb from limb.Chr.Alas, my son! no hope.—(Aside.) I don’t know what to say.—Barbarian beasts!Ph.Oh, sir!Wreak not thy wrath on us, the unwilling messengersOf mournful tidings.Chr.Pray don’t take me now for a fool:I perfectly understand, that my obligation to youIs as great as if the news you brought was good. Go on.Pardon the hasty expression that burst from me in my woe.If yet there is more, don’t scruple to tell it.Ph.We thank thee.Pam.CatrosUscorino fricosan non.Ph.They flayed him alive.Pam.(aside to Phil.). You’ve killed him twice.Chr.O horror!Ph.(aside to Pam.). Give me a long one now.—Pam.Permason cralti abritheos nasolion,Ilno synorpin mudi.Ph.Ere he died, thy son870Sent thee a message, sir. There lives in the town hard byA poor old widow woman from Corinth . . .Chr.I know. Her daughterMy son fell madly in love with, was even on the point to marry.’Twould never have done: she was not at all the sort of woman.Tell me, sirs, when you came.Ph.Our ship arrived this morning;And since we sail to-night, ’twill save thee needless troubleTo make thy gift to the prince my master here at once,According to Persian custom.Chr.Ask you for money, sir?Ph.That is the Persian custom.Chr.(aside).Most annoying this!—Sir, I will send it you.Ph.We would not trouble thee:We’ll wait, sir, while thou fetchest it.Chr.(aside).What in the world to do?881These Persians have an uncommon sharp eye to the main chance:I’ll try one piece of gold if ’twill content him.—Sir,Give this then to your master.Ph.It will not satisfy him.For he is a potentate: but I will obey thee, sir.Pam.Tartys chribos!(Puts hand on sword.)Ph.See, sir, he doth not like it.Chr.Well,I am but a poor man, but what is right I’ll do.Look! here are four more pieces, and that is all I have.And pray consider, sirs, the mournful news you bringCannot be held of value, as joyful tidings might.(Gives.)(Aside.) I hope this may content them: ’tis not much. Menedemus890Will after all be spared the expense of a funeral.Pam.Jopisco morca.Ph.Sir, he is still but ill contented.Chr.Then wait, sirs. I’ll go in and fetch you what I may.Ph.We will await thee here.[Exit.Chr.(aside). I’ll go and find Menedemus.Ph.Now let’s be off at once.Pam.What sport! O gods! five pounds!He never made me so handsome a present in all my life.I’ve tried all kinds of dodges to screw coin out of him,But I never could: and you’ve come round him twice to-day.I’ll arrange with you for some more adventures of this sort.899Ph.Stay,Half this is mine.Pam.And welcome.Enter Menedemus at back unperceived: he watches them.Ph.What made your governorTell all those lies?Pam.Just like him.Ph.Why should he pretendTo be Menedemus?Pam.Merely to meddle: besides no doubtHe was anxious about the money we cheated him of this morning;He wishes now he was off his bargain with Gorgo.Ph.Ay.He gave you a blessing this morning.Pam.May the gods bless him.I love him at this moment.Ph.Come, we must be gone.Pam.Hercules! there is old Menedemus himself.Make haste!I hope he has not overheard us.Ph.March by in good style.Pam.Chrysnotaparoys.Ph.Bo Chrysnotaparoys.MENEDEMUS.910Chrysnotaparoys! Whatever jargon is this?Queer-looking fellows too to be prowling about my house,And talking of me. Some maskers my neighbour Chremes hiresTo honour the Feast of Bacchus. A stupid, vulgar fashion,This orientalising, in great vogue too, and stillGains ground, I fear; and this is one of the gaudy-days.’Tis well I did not accept his invitation to dine.Mummery and tomfoolery! Alas, I have been all dayMore nervous and anxious than ever. I even thought this morningI heard my poor son’s voice: so certain I was that I ranTo the end of the garden and looked.—Surely I was either born920With a mind most singularly sensible of grief, or elseThe saying is not true that time is sorrow’s cure.My sorrow rather increases upon me every day,And the longer he is away the more do I yearn for him,And miss him.Re-enter Chremes from Menedemus’ house.Chr.(aside). Why here he is, just when I’d given him up.—O Menedemus!Men.What is the matter?Chr.Alas, Menedemus!Men.You frighten me, Chremes.Chr.I’ve sought you everywhere.Men.I had to go in the town. Is anything wrong?Chr.I cameTo tell you how I had done you a service; light of heart.930Because I had done you a service, knew you must approve,And did not doubt that you would repay me a little sumThat I ventured on your behalf.Men.Certainly, Chremes; well?Chr.I knew you would, but still I came to explain at once.I sought for you in your garden in vain; and coming out,Intending to go to your house, just as I opened the gate,Just here, I met two foreigners strangely dressed.Men.In white?Chr.You saw them?Men.A moment ago. Who are they?Chr.The elder oneAddressed me in Persian.Men.In Persian, did he? What did he say?Chr.I’ll tell you. When they saw me at your gate, coming out,They thought most naturally that I was you.940Men.I see.Chr.I did not undeceive them.Men.They thought that you were me?Chr.They did.Men.I have little doubt but that they are revellers,Who knowing what you, Chremes, would call my folly, cameTo play some practical joke. They said they were Persians?Chr.Yes.Men.With news of Clinia?Chr.Yes.Men.This sort of impertinenceProvokes me, Chremes; ’tis want of respect. Suppose I amSomewhat old-fashioned, yet to be idly trifled with,In a matter in which I feel so deeply . . .Chr.Pray heaven you are right.I did suspect them myself at first: but when they spoke . . .Men.What did they say?Chr.I dare not tell you.950Men.You need not fear.Chr.They said your son was dead. They saw him killed by a prince,In a battle at Chrysno . . . Chrysno . . .Men.Chrysnotaparoys?Chr.Ha! is it a famous place?Men.I never heard of it, Chremes.Chr.Then how did you know?Men.They were talking together as I came in.Chr.That should convince you, and then the dying message he sent.Men.What’s that?Chr.The tale you know. The old Corinthian widow,Whose daughter he was in love with . . .Men.Did they say, may I ask,All this in Persian?Chr.One did: yes—but I confess,959That in spite of a few expressions I was able to understand,I had to trust very much to the one that interpreted.Men.But him I should understand?Chr.I don’t say but what you might.Men.It’s forty years since I was in Persia: but this I know,That is not a Persian dress, and I think I ought to rememberAt least the sound of the language. If you could find these menAnd send them to me . . .Chr.I will. They promised to wait for me.They’re not far off: I’ll fetch them at once.Men.Stay! ere you go—I wanted to tell you, Chremes, I have quite made up my mindConcerning the girl: my duty is plain enough.Chr.What is it?969Men.To adopt her: for if my son returns, to find her hereUnder my care, protected & loved as I shall love her,Will be a bond between us to make him forget the past,My harshness and all; while should he be killed or die abroad,—Which God forbid—or never return, I have then no heir,And the only consolation remaining to me in the worldIs the loving her, whom he would have made my daughter, and whomI shall love like him.Chr.You won’t.Men.Why not?Chr.I shall convince youThat you will do nothing of the sort.Men.Why not?Chr.You wouldn’t ask,If you only knew what a creature she is.Men.You know her?Chr.Ay.Men.But how? You never told me.Chr.She is spending the day at my house.980’Twas this I was coming to tell you about, but the other matterHad driven it out of my head. I thought to discover for you(Seeing you did not know) what kind of person she was;That I might judge and tell you, whether you most were wrongIn being at first so harsh to your son, or now to yourself.So I asked her to spend the day at my house. It has ended in this,That when I saw what kind of woman she really was,I offered her forty pounds if she would renounce your son.Believe me, she jumped at the bargain; so then, to prevent mistake,I made her sign a paper to that effect. I hold it.It cost me forty pounds; and that’s the money I said,991That I had advanced for you.Men.’Twas very kind of you, Chremes.You see I am shocked.Chr.Nay, don’t give way.Men.You have dashed my hope.I was not prepared for this. Freeborn I knew she was not;But this I never suspected.Chr.Come to my house and see.I wish you to judge for yourself.Men.She is there?Chr.She is there, do you ask?Ay, to my cost she is there. No sooner she comes to the door,Than all is to be topsy-turvy. She calls me ‘old man!’Asks if the bath is ready, and presently calls for wine.She’ll take a ‘whetting brusher,’ she says. The quantity1000She wasted in merely tasting was more than most men drink.She kept me an hour on my legs before she was pleased, and thenDrank like a fish, & laughed at nothing & everything.Had it not been for you, Menedemus, I promise youI could not have stood it.Men.I feel extremely obliged to you,And sorry for this. You have been most friendly in all you have done.I cannot doubt you are right. But still whatever she is,I’d like to see her once. I can’t dine with you;—arrangeTo send her across to me. Explain to her who I am;And let me judge for myself if it is so impossibleTo carry out my former intention as you believe.1011Chr.By all means. I shall be glad enough to be rid of her.I go at once.Men.And find those Persians, whoever they are.Chr.Indeed I must. For either I was grossly deceivedIn a manner I cannot believe—I gave them money too—Or else—Men.Well, lose no time, I pray: I am less at easeIn the matter now, than when you told me first.Chr.IndeedI fear you have cause: I’ll go at once. Farewell.[Exit.Men.Farewell.A silly hoax no doubt. I wish ’twere half as likely1019That Chremes was wrong about the girl. ’Tis very strangeThat he should suddenly take such an active interestIn my affairs. I think he’s a little meddlesome,With all his kindness and thought. But that’s the way of the world.[Exit.Re-enter Chremes and Pamphilus.Chr.See Gorgo at once, I say, and get it back if you can.Pam.Why, father?Chr.I’ll tell you. Clinia your friend is dead.Pam.Impossible.Chr.No. I have seen two Persians just arrived,Who say he was slain in battle.Pam.Does old Menedemus know?Chr.He does.Pam.And how does he take it?Chr.Why? How should he take it?Pam.How should I know? The cross old hunks.Chr.Stop! Pamphilus.1029You wrong him; he’s distracted: and now in consequence,He has made up his mind to adopt that woman.Pam.Gorgo?Chr.Yes.How can you laugh?Pam.Well, if he adopts her, what’s the useOf asking her for the money now? Menedemus will pay.Chr.You do, please, as I say. Of course it’s impossibleTo adopt her: I intimated to him as much, but stillHe wants to judge for himself. I promised to send her tó him.As soon as the ladies return from the bath explain this tó her.And take her across; at least if I’m not back from town.Pam.You go to the town?Chr.I have promised to bring these Persians back;1039We wish to establish the news they brought. They half engagedTo await me here, but it seems they are gone.Pam.Can I go fór you?Chr.Ay, ay. Yet no. (aside) Nay, I shall have to explain to themThat I am not Menedemus,—I fear I must go myself.I think I shall not be long. You do as I told you, please;And tell your mother where I am gone.Pam.I hope you’ll find them.[Exit.Chr.I shan’t come back without ’em.Pam.(aside).Good-bye then, dad, for ever!

Enter CHREMES.CHREMES.

Enter CHREMES.

CHREMES.

INEVER saw such a woman; never in all my life.Upon my word I am sorry for poor Menedemus now:What would he have done without me? What a predicament!780Suppose his son had returned, and he with his simple heartHad given in, and had this woman to live in his house—Well, thanks to me he is safe. Forty pounds, I think,Was not so dear a bargain: and yet ’tis a tidy sum.As much as I should make on a small consignment of sponges:And that I have paid on risk—although I cannot doubtBut that Menedemus will gladly pay me again—’tis risked.All for this paper, wherein the lady promisesIn consideration of this same money made over to her,Never again to receive the addresses of her quondam lover,790Clinia; signed Gorgo: a genuine business.And yet no wonder she laughed; of course she thinks me a foolTo consider her promise of weight. Ah, mistress, giggle and all,I’ve settled your hash. Ha! ha! ’twas clever of Pamphilus:The lad has some of my wits. But still I shall be uneasy,Until I find Menedemus is reasonable:—indeedI’ll lose no time. Menedemus might desire to comeAnd judge for himself: I’ll press him to do so: ’twere best, and thenHe’ll dine with us after all, & I shall dine much betterMyself, I must confess, when I know my money is safe.[Exit into Menedemus’ garden.

INEVER saw such a woman; never in all my life.

Upon my word I am sorry for poor Menedemus now:

What would he have done without me? What a predicament!

Suppose his son had returned, and he with his simple heart

Had given in, and had this woman to live in his house—

Well, thanks to me he is safe. Forty pounds, I think,

Was not so dear a bargain: and yet ’tis a tidy sum.

As much as I should make on a small consignment of sponges:

And that I have paid on risk—although I cannot doubt

But that Menedemus will gladly pay me again—’tis risked.

All for this paper, wherein the lady promises

In consideration of this same money made over to her,

Never again to receive the addresses of her quondam lover,

Clinia; signed Gorgo: a genuine business.

And yet no wonder she laughed; of course she thinks me a fool

To consider her promise of weight. Ah, mistress, giggle and all,

I’ve settled your hash. Ha! ha! ’twas clever of Pamphilus:

The lad has some of my wits. But still I shall be uneasy,

Until I find Menedemus is reasonable:—indeed

I’ll lose no time. Menedemus might desire to come

And judge for himself: I’ll press him to do so: ’twere best, and then

He’ll dine with us after all, & I shall dine much better

Myself, I must confess, when I know my money is safe.

[Exit into Menedemus’ garden.

Enter Philolaches and Pamphilus disguised as Persians.

PHILOLACHES.

Now don’t you think we are unmistakable Persians, eh?

PAMPHILUS.

The essence of Central Asia: I shouldn’t fear to meetThe shade of Themistocles.

The essence of Central Asia: I shouldn’t fear to meet

The shade of Themistocles.

Ph.Indeed, I’ll bet my lifeYour mother would never know you. Is it not a miracleWhat these wide snowy trousers & black beards will do?

Ph.Indeed, I’ll bet my life

Your mother would never know you. Is it not a miracle

What these wide snowy trousers & black beards will do?

Pam.I like the hat.

Ph.Is it comfortable?

Pam.It fits like fun.Have you your tale by heart?

Pam.It fits like fun.

Have you your tale by heart?

Ph.I shan’t go wrong in that.You must speak mock high-Persian; as interpreterI will make sense of nonsense. Be grave too.

Ph.I shan’t go wrong in that.

You must speak mock high-Persian; as interpreter

I will make sense of nonsense. Be grave too.

808Pam.If I laugh,I’ve got a pretty good sleeve to laugh in. Let us go.But stay—which gate shdgood true Persians enter by?In at the garden gate, or round the house to the front?

Pam.If I laugh,

I’ve got a pretty good sleeve to laugh in. Let us go.

But stay—which gate shdgood true Persians enter by?

In at the garden gate, or round the house to the front?

Ph.Suppose we try the garden. Isn’t this the garden?

Pam.Yes.

Ph.I’ll lead. You know the way too well.[They go to the garden gate and there meet Chremes re-entering.

Ph.I’ll lead. You know the way too well.

[They go to the garden gate and there meet Chremes re-entering.

Pam.Gods, here’s my father!

Chr.(aside). Why, who in the name of wonder are these queer foreigners?

Ph.Liertos tulvo.

Chr.Sir, I do not understand you.

Pam.(to Phil, aside). Tell him we want Menedemus, and get him out of the way.

—Mefarim burne sin menedemus ryneas.

Ph.The prince salutes my lord, and asks if here in the earthAre the thresholds of lord Menedemus.

Ph.The prince salutes my lord, and asks if here in the earth

Are the thresholds of lord Menedemus.

Chr.Ah, you speak our tongue.’Tis well. This is his house. What would you with him?

Chr.Ah, you speak our tongue.

’Tis well. This is his house. What would you with him?

Pam.(to Phil.).Heavens!What will you say?

Pam.(to Phil.).Heavens!

What will you say?

Ph.Go on.

821Pam.Aproysi thulnear.Kekachylos ratulian dricho bresnion oin.

Pam.Aproysi thulnear.

Kekachylos ratulian dricho bresnion oin.

Ph.My lord has bid me say we are Persians, sir, arrivedWith tidings to lord Menedemus.

Ph.My lord has bid me say we are Persians, sir, arrived

With tidings to lord Menedemus.

Chr.(aside).Ah! I guessed as much.This should be news of Clinia: bad news too, I think.Their Asiatic gravity cannot quite concealA strange anxiety. If he’s dead, my money is lost,My forty pounds all gone. I’ll learn the truth at once—The news, sir, that ye bring, concerns it the old man’s son?

Chr.(aside).Ah! I guessed as much.

This should be news of Clinia: bad news too, I think.

Their Asiatic gravity cannot quite conceal

A strange anxiety. If he’s dead, my money is lost,

My forty pounds all gone. I’ll learn the truth at once—

The news, sir, that ye bring, concerns it the old man’s son?

Ph.(aside). We’re in for it.

Pam.(aside).Put him off. Say we bear secret tidings.—830Nuspiol onayrmico.

Pam.(aside).Put him off. Say we bear secret tidings.—830

Nuspiol onayrmico.

Ph.My lord, sir, will not speakBut only with lord Menedemus.

Ph.My lord, sir, will not speak

But only with lord Menedemus.

Chr.(aside).That’s unfortunate.How shall I find it out? Menedemus is gone from home:I’m sure he’d wish them to tell me; and ’twould be kindness’ selfGently to break the news to the poor old man. SupposeI say that I’m Menedemus. I’m sure that scowling fellowWould drive him out of his wits with fright. Ay, so I’ll do.—Sir, tell your master that I’m Menedemus.

Chr.(aside).That’s unfortunate.

How shall I find it out? Menedemus is gone from home:

I’m sure he’d wish them to tell me; and ’twould be kindness’ self

Gently to break the news to the poor old man. Suppose

I say that I’m Menedemus. I’m sure that scowling fellow

Would drive him out of his wits with fright. Ay, so I’ll do.—

Sir, tell your master that I’m Menedemus.

Pam.(to Phil.).Ho; the deuce!What’s to be done?

Pam.(to Phil.).Ho; the deuce!

What’s to be done?

Ph.(to Pam.). The old liar. It’s all the same in the end.He’ll tell Menedemus for us. Go on.

Ph.(to Pam.). The old liar. It’s all the same in the end.

He’ll tell Menedemus for us. Go on.

840Pam.VequamielSarepo maneas, camerusyn náslonon.

Pam.Vequamiel

Sarepo maneas, camerusyn náslonon.

Ph.I am bid to tell thee, sir, the news is of thy son.

Chr.Is’t bad news?

Ph.Very bad.

Chr.Alas!

Pam.(aside).Now must my fatherAct for himself. He’ll not discover me.

Pam.(aside).Now must my father

Act for himself. He’ll not discover me.

Chr.I pray,Tell me the worst. I am not entirely unprepared.Conceal nothing.

Chr.I pray,

Tell me the worst. I am not entirely unprepared.

Conceal nothing.

Pam.Bios emelto ormimosNasephon feldido bo Chrysnotaparoys.

Pam.Bios emelto ormimos

Nasephon feldido bo Chrysnotaparoys.

Ph.Clinia, thy son, was slain in battle by the princeNasephonon the plains OfChrysnotaparoys.

Ph.Clinia, thy son, was slain in battle by the prince

Nasephonon the plains OfChrysnotaparoys.

Chr.(aside). My money is paid for nothing: how very provoking! But now850I must not forget the part I am playing. I must affectIn some degree the sorrow which Menedemus would feel.—Alas, my dear son, ah, alas, my dear son, slain,Slain dead upon the plains of . . .

Chr.(aside). My money is paid for nothing: how very provoking! But now850

I must not forget the part I am playing. I must affect

In some degree the sorrow which Menedemus would feel.—

Alas, my dear son, ah, alas, my dear son, slain,

Slain dead upon the plains of . . .

Pam.Chrysnotaparoys.

Chr.OfChrysnotaparoys. Alas! how was he slain?

Ph.My master now will tell.

Pam.Hastoripeson non.

Ph.They pierced him through with spears.

Pam.Bo naslon tyvamo.

Chr.What’s that?

Ph.They cut off his head.

Pam.Vem dreschim pailekin.

Ph.They tore him limb from limb.

Chr.Alas, my son! no hope.—(Aside.) I don’t know what to say.—Barbarian beasts!

Chr.Alas, my son! no hope.—

(Aside.) I don’t know what to say.—Barbarian beasts!

Ph.Oh, sir!Wreak not thy wrath on us, the unwilling messengersOf mournful tidings.

Ph.Oh, sir!

Wreak not thy wrath on us, the unwilling messengers

Of mournful tidings.

Chr.Pray don’t take me now for a fool:I perfectly understand, that my obligation to youIs as great as if the news you brought was good. Go on.Pardon the hasty expression that burst from me in my woe.If yet there is more, don’t scruple to tell it.

Chr.Pray don’t take me now for a fool:

I perfectly understand, that my obligation to you

Is as great as if the news you brought was good. Go on.

Pardon the hasty expression that burst from me in my woe.

If yet there is more, don’t scruple to tell it.

Ph.We thank thee.

Pam.CatrosUscorino fricosan non.

Pam.Catros

Uscorino fricosan non.

Ph.They flayed him alive.

Pam.(aside to Phil.). You’ve killed him twice.

Chr.O horror!

Ph.(aside to Pam.). Give me a long one now.—

Pam.Permason cralti abritheos nasolion,Ilno synorpin mudi.

Pam.Permason cralti abritheos nasolion,

Ilno synorpin mudi.

Ph.Ere he died, thy son870Sent thee a message, sir. There lives in the town hard byA poor old widow woman from Corinth . . .

Ph.Ere he died, thy son

Sent thee a message, sir. There lives in the town hard by

A poor old widow woman from Corinth . . .

Chr.I know. Her daughterMy son fell madly in love with, was even on the point to marry.’Twould never have done: she was not at all the sort of woman.Tell me, sirs, when you came.

Chr.I know. Her daughter

My son fell madly in love with, was even on the point to marry.

’Twould never have done: she was not at all the sort of woman.

Tell me, sirs, when you came.

Ph.Our ship arrived this morning;And since we sail to-night, ’twill save thee needless troubleTo make thy gift to the prince my master here at once,According to Persian custom.

Ph.Our ship arrived this morning;

And since we sail to-night, ’twill save thee needless trouble

To make thy gift to the prince my master here at once,

According to Persian custom.

Chr.Ask you for money, sir?

Ph.That is the Persian custom.

Chr.(aside).Most annoying this!—Sir, I will send it you.

Chr.(aside).Most annoying this!—

Sir, I will send it you.

Ph.We would not trouble thee:We’ll wait, sir, while thou fetchest it.

Ph.We would not trouble thee:

We’ll wait, sir, while thou fetchest it.

Chr.(aside).What in the world to do?881These Persians have an uncommon sharp eye to the main chance:I’ll try one piece of gold if ’twill content him.—Sir,Give this then to your master.

Chr.(aside).What in the world to do?

These Persians have an uncommon sharp eye to the main chance:

I’ll try one piece of gold if ’twill content him.—Sir,

Give this then to your master.

Ph.It will not satisfy him.For he is a potentate: but I will obey thee, sir.

Ph.It will not satisfy him.

For he is a potentate: but I will obey thee, sir.

Pam.Tartys chribos!(Puts hand on sword.)

Ph.See, sir, he doth not like it.

Chr.Well,I am but a poor man, but what is right I’ll do.Look! here are four more pieces, and that is all I have.And pray consider, sirs, the mournful news you bringCannot be held of value, as joyful tidings might.(Gives.)

Chr.Well,

I am but a poor man, but what is right I’ll do.

Look! here are four more pieces, and that is all I have.

And pray consider, sirs, the mournful news you bring

Cannot be held of value, as joyful tidings might.

(Gives.)

(Aside.) I hope this may content them: ’tis not much. Menedemus890Will after all be spared the expense of a funeral.

(Aside.) I hope this may content them: ’tis not much. Menedemus890

Will after all be spared the expense of a funeral.

Pam.Jopisco morca.

Ph.Sir, he is still but ill contented.

Chr.Then wait, sirs. I’ll go in and fetch you what I may.

Ph.We will await thee here.

[Exit.Chr.(aside). I’ll go and find Menedemus.

Chr.(aside). I’ll go and find Menedemus.

Ph.Now let’s be off at once.

Pam.What sport! O gods! five pounds!He never made me so handsome a present in all my life.I’ve tried all kinds of dodges to screw coin out of him,But I never could: and you’ve come round him twice to-day.I’ll arrange with you for some more adventures of this sort.

Pam.What sport! O gods! five pounds!

He never made me so handsome a present in all my life.

I’ve tried all kinds of dodges to screw coin out of him,

But I never could: and you’ve come round him twice to-day.

I’ll arrange with you for some more adventures of this sort.

899Ph.Stay,Half this is mine.

Ph.Stay,

Half this is mine.

Pam.And welcome.

Enter Menedemus at back unperceived: he watches them.

Ph.What made your governorTell all those lies?

Ph.What made your governor

Tell all those lies?

Pam.Just like him.

Ph.Why should he pretendTo be Menedemus?

Ph.Why should he pretend

To be Menedemus?

Pam.Merely to meddle: besides no doubtHe was anxious about the money we cheated him of this morning;He wishes now he was off his bargain with Gorgo.

Pam.Merely to meddle: besides no doubt

He was anxious about the money we cheated him of this morning;

He wishes now he was off his bargain with Gorgo.

Ph.Ay.He gave you a blessing this morning.

Ph.Ay.

He gave you a blessing this morning.

Pam.May the gods bless him.I love him at this moment.

Pam.May the gods bless him.

I love him at this moment.

Ph.Come, we must be gone.

Pam.Hercules! there is old Menedemus himself.Make haste!I hope he has not overheard us.

Pam.Hercules! there is old Menedemus himself.

Make haste!

I hope he has not overheard us.

Ph.March by in good style.

Pam.Chrysnotaparoys.

Ph.Bo Chrysnotaparoys.

MENEDEMUS.

910Chrysnotaparoys! Whatever jargon is this?Queer-looking fellows too to be prowling about my house,And talking of me. Some maskers my neighbour Chremes hiresTo honour the Feast of Bacchus. A stupid, vulgar fashion,This orientalising, in great vogue too, and stillGains ground, I fear; and this is one of the gaudy-days.’Tis well I did not accept his invitation to dine.Mummery and tomfoolery! Alas, I have been all dayMore nervous and anxious than ever. I even thought this morningI heard my poor son’s voice: so certain I was that I ranTo the end of the garden and looked.—Surely I was either born920With a mind most singularly sensible of grief, or elseThe saying is not true that time is sorrow’s cure.My sorrow rather increases upon me every day,And the longer he is away the more do I yearn for him,And miss him.

Chrysnotaparoys! Whatever jargon is this?

Queer-looking fellows too to be prowling about my house,

And talking of me. Some maskers my neighbour Chremes hires

To honour the Feast of Bacchus. A stupid, vulgar fashion,

This orientalising, in great vogue too, and still

Gains ground, I fear; and this is one of the gaudy-days.

’Tis well I did not accept his invitation to dine.

Mummery and tomfoolery! Alas, I have been all day

More nervous and anxious than ever. I even thought this morning

I heard my poor son’s voice: so certain I was that I ran

To the end of the garden and looked.—Surely I was either born920

With a mind most singularly sensible of grief, or else

The saying is not true that time is sorrow’s cure.

My sorrow rather increases upon me every day,

And the longer he is away the more do I yearn for him,

And miss him.

Re-enter Chremes from Menedemus’ house.

Chr.(aside). Why here he is, just when I’d given him up.—O Menedemus!

Chr.(aside). Why here he is, just when I’d given him up.—

O Menedemus!

Men.What is the matter?

Chr.Alas, Menedemus!

Men.You frighten me, Chremes.

Chr.I’ve sought you everywhere.

Men.I had to go in the town. Is anything wrong?

Chr.I cameTo tell you how I had done you a service; light of heart.930Because I had done you a service, knew you must approve,And did not doubt that you would repay me a little sumThat I ventured on your behalf.

Chr.I came

To tell you how I had done you a service; light of heart.

Because I had done you a service, knew you must approve,

And did not doubt that you would repay me a little sum

That I ventured on your behalf.

Men.Certainly, Chremes; well?

Chr.I knew you would, but still I came to explain at once.I sought for you in your garden in vain; and coming out,Intending to go to your house, just as I opened the gate,Just here, I met two foreigners strangely dressed.

Chr.I knew you would, but still I came to explain at once.

I sought for you in your garden in vain; and coming out,

Intending to go to your house, just as I opened the gate,

Just here, I met two foreigners strangely dressed.

Men.In white?

Chr.You saw them?

Men.A moment ago. Who are they?

Chr.The elder oneAddressed me in Persian.

Chr.The elder one

Addressed me in Persian.

Men.In Persian, did he? What did he say?

Chr.I’ll tell you. When they saw me at your gate, coming out,They thought most naturally that I was you.

Chr.I’ll tell you. When they saw me at your gate, coming out,

They thought most naturally that I was you.

940Men.I see.

Men.I see.

Chr.I did not undeceive them.

Men.They thought that you were me?

Chr.They did.

Men.I have little doubt but that they are revellers,Who knowing what you, Chremes, would call my folly, cameTo play some practical joke. They said they were Persians?

Men.I have little doubt but that they are revellers,

Who knowing what you, Chremes, would call my folly, came

To play some practical joke. They said they were Persians?

Chr.Yes.

Men.With news of Clinia?

Chr.Yes.

Men.This sort of impertinenceProvokes me, Chremes; ’tis want of respect. Suppose I amSomewhat old-fashioned, yet to be idly trifled with,In a matter in which I feel so deeply . . .

Men.This sort of impertinence

Provokes me, Chremes; ’tis want of respect. Suppose I am

Somewhat old-fashioned, yet to be idly trifled with,

In a matter in which I feel so deeply . . .

Chr.Pray heaven you are right.I did suspect them myself at first: but when they spoke . . .

Chr.Pray heaven you are right.

I did suspect them myself at first: but when they spoke . . .

Men.What did they say?

Chr.I dare not tell you.

950Men.You need not fear.

Men.You need not fear.

Chr.They said your son was dead. They saw him killed by a prince,In a battle at Chrysno . . . Chrysno . . .

Chr.They said your son was dead. They saw him killed by a prince,

In a battle at Chrysno . . . Chrysno . . .

Men.Chrysnotaparoys?

Chr.Ha! is it a famous place?

Men.I never heard of it, Chremes.

Chr.Then how did you know?

Men.They were talking together as I came in.

Chr.That should convince you, and then the dying message he sent.

Men.What’s that?

Chr.The tale you know. The old Corinthian widow,Whose daughter he was in love with . . .

Chr.The tale you know. The old Corinthian widow,

Whose daughter he was in love with . . .

Men.Did they say, may I ask,All this in Persian?

Men.Did they say, may I ask,

All this in Persian?

Chr.One did: yes—but I confess,959That in spite of a few expressions I was able to understand,I had to trust very much to the one that interpreted.

Chr.One did: yes—but I confess,

That in spite of a few expressions I was able to understand,

I had to trust very much to the one that interpreted.

Men.But him I should understand?

Chr.I don’t say but what you might.

Men.It’s forty years since I was in Persia: but this I know,That is not a Persian dress, and I think I ought to rememberAt least the sound of the language. If you could find these menAnd send them to me . . .

Men.It’s forty years since I was in Persia: but this I know,

That is not a Persian dress, and I think I ought to remember

At least the sound of the language. If you could find these men

And send them to me . . .

Chr.I will. They promised to wait for me.They’re not far off: I’ll fetch them at once.

Chr.I will. They promised to wait for me.

They’re not far off: I’ll fetch them at once.

Men.Stay! ere you go—I wanted to tell you, Chremes, I have quite made up my mindConcerning the girl: my duty is plain enough.

Men.Stay! ere you go—

I wanted to tell you, Chremes, I have quite made up my mind

Concerning the girl: my duty is plain enough.

Chr.What is it?

969Men.To adopt her: for if my son returns, to find her hereUnder my care, protected & loved as I shall love her,Will be a bond between us to make him forget the past,My harshness and all; while should he be killed or die abroad,—Which God forbid—or never return, I have then no heir,And the only consolation remaining to me in the worldIs the loving her, whom he would have made my daughter, and whomI shall love like him.

Men.To adopt her: for if my son returns, to find her here

Under my care, protected & loved as I shall love her,

Will be a bond between us to make him forget the past,

My harshness and all; while should he be killed or die abroad,—

Which God forbid—or never return, I have then no heir,

And the only consolation remaining to me in the world

Is the loving her, whom he would have made my daughter, and whom

I shall love like him.

Chr.You won’t.

Men.Why not?

Chr.I shall convince youThat you will do nothing of the sort.

Chr.I shall convince you

That you will do nothing of the sort.

Men.Why not?

Chr.You wouldn’t ask,If you only knew what a creature she is.

Chr.You wouldn’t ask,

If you only knew what a creature she is.

Men.You know her?

Chr.Ay.

Men.But how? You never told me.

Chr.She is spending the day at my house.980’Twas this I was coming to tell you about, but the other matterHad driven it out of my head. I thought to discover for you(Seeing you did not know) what kind of person she was;That I might judge and tell you, whether you most were wrongIn being at first so harsh to your son, or now to yourself.So I asked her to spend the day at my house. It has ended in this,That when I saw what kind of woman she really was,I offered her forty pounds if she would renounce your son.Believe me, she jumped at the bargain; so then, to prevent mistake,I made her sign a paper to that effect. I hold it.It cost me forty pounds; and that’s the money I said,991That I had advanced for you.

Chr.She is spending the day at my house.

’Twas this I was coming to tell you about, but the other matter

Had driven it out of my head. I thought to discover for you

(Seeing you did not know) what kind of person she was;

That I might judge and tell you, whether you most were wrong

In being at first so harsh to your son, or now to yourself.

So I asked her to spend the day at my house. It has ended in this,

That when I saw what kind of woman she really was,

I offered her forty pounds if she would renounce your son.

Believe me, she jumped at the bargain; so then, to prevent mistake,

I made her sign a paper to that effect. I hold it.

It cost me forty pounds; and that’s the money I said,

That I had advanced for you.

Men.’Twas very kind of you, Chremes.You see I am shocked.

Men.’Twas very kind of you, Chremes.

You see I am shocked.

Chr.Nay, don’t give way.

Men.You have dashed my hope.I was not prepared for this. Freeborn I knew she was not;But this I never suspected.

Men.You have dashed my hope.

I was not prepared for this. Freeborn I knew she was not;

But this I never suspected.

Chr.Come to my house and see.I wish you to judge for yourself.

Chr.Come to my house and see.

I wish you to judge for yourself.

Men.She is there?

Chr.She is there, do you ask?Ay, to my cost she is there. No sooner she comes to the door,Than all is to be topsy-turvy. She calls me ‘old man!’Asks if the bath is ready, and presently calls for wine.She’ll take a ‘whetting brusher,’ she says. The quantity1000She wasted in merely tasting was more than most men drink.She kept me an hour on my legs before she was pleased, and thenDrank like a fish, & laughed at nothing & everything.Had it not been for you, Menedemus, I promise youI could not have stood it.

Chr.She is there, do you ask?

Ay, to my cost she is there. No sooner she comes to the door,

Than all is to be topsy-turvy. She calls me ‘old man!’

Asks if the bath is ready, and presently calls for wine.

She’ll take a ‘whetting brusher,’ she says. The quantity

She wasted in merely tasting was more than most men drink.

She kept me an hour on my legs before she was pleased, and then

Drank like a fish, & laughed at nothing & everything.

Had it not been for you, Menedemus, I promise you

I could not have stood it.

Men.I feel extremely obliged to you,And sorry for this. You have been most friendly in all you have done.I cannot doubt you are right. But still whatever she is,I’d like to see her once. I can’t dine with you;—arrangeTo send her across to me. Explain to her who I am;And let me judge for myself if it is so impossibleTo carry out my former intention as you believe.

Men.I feel extremely obliged to you,

And sorry for this. You have been most friendly in all you have done.

I cannot doubt you are right. But still whatever she is,

I’d like to see her once. I can’t dine with you;—arrange

To send her across to me. Explain to her who I am;

And let me judge for myself if it is so impossible

To carry out my former intention as you believe.

1011Chr.By all means. I shall be glad enough to be rid of her.I go at once.

Chr.By all means. I shall be glad enough to be rid of her.

I go at once.

Men.And find those Persians, whoever they are.

Chr.Indeed I must. For either I was grossly deceivedIn a manner I cannot believe—I gave them money too—Or else—

Chr.Indeed I must. For either I was grossly deceived

In a manner I cannot believe—I gave them money too—

Or else—

Men.Well, lose no time, I pray: I am less at easeIn the matter now, than when you told me first.

Men.Well, lose no time, I pray: I am less at ease

In the matter now, than when you told me first.

Chr.IndeedI fear you have cause: I’ll go at once. Farewell.[Exit.

Chr.Indeed

I fear you have cause: I’ll go at once. Farewell.

[Exit.

Men.Farewell.A silly hoax no doubt. I wish ’twere half as likely1019That Chremes was wrong about the girl. ’Tis very strangeThat he should suddenly take such an active interestIn my affairs. I think he’s a little meddlesome,With all his kindness and thought. But that’s the way of the world.[Exit.

Men.Farewell.

A silly hoax no doubt. I wish ’twere half as likely

That Chremes was wrong about the girl. ’Tis very strange

That he should suddenly take such an active interest

In my affairs. I think he’s a little meddlesome,

With all his kindness and thought. But that’s the way of the world.

[Exit.

Re-enter Chremes and Pamphilus.

Chr.See Gorgo at once, I say, and get it back if you can.

Pam.Why, father?

Chr.I’ll tell you. Clinia your friend is dead.

Pam.Impossible.

Chr.No. I have seen two Persians just arrived,Who say he was slain in battle.

Chr.No. I have seen two Persians just arrived,

Who say he was slain in battle.

Pam.Does old Menedemus know?

Chr.He does.

Pam.And how does he take it?

Chr.Why? How should he take it?

Pam.How should I know? The cross old hunks.

Chr.Stop! Pamphilus.1029You wrong him; he’s distracted: and now in consequence,He has made up his mind to adopt that woman.

Chr.Stop! Pamphilus.

You wrong him; he’s distracted: and now in consequence,

He has made up his mind to adopt that woman.

Pam.Gorgo?

Chr.Yes.How can you laugh?

Chr.Yes.

How can you laugh?

Pam.Well, if he adopts her, what’s the useOf asking her for the money now? Menedemus will pay.

Pam.Well, if he adopts her, what’s the use

Of asking her for the money now? Menedemus will pay.

Chr.You do, please, as I say. Of course it’s impossibleTo adopt her: I intimated to him as much, but stillHe wants to judge for himself. I promised to send her tó him.As soon as the ladies return from the bath explain this tó her.And take her across; at least if I’m not back from town.

Chr.You do, please, as I say. Of course it’s impossible

To adopt her: I intimated to him as much, but still

He wants to judge for himself. I promised to send her tó him.

As soon as the ladies return from the bath explain this tó her.

And take her across; at least if I’m not back from town.

Pam.You go to the town?

Chr.I have promised to bring these Persians back;1039We wish to establish the news they brought. They half engagedTo await me here, but it seems they are gone.

Chr.I have promised to bring these Persians back;

We wish to establish the news they brought. They half engaged

To await me here, but it seems they are gone.

Pam.Can I go fór you?

Chr.Ay, ay. Yet no. (aside) Nay, I shall have to explain to themThat I am not Menedemus,—I fear I must go myself.I think I shall not be long. You do as I told you, please;And tell your mother where I am gone.

Chr.Ay, ay. Yet no. (aside) Nay, I shall have to explain to them

That I am not Menedemus,—I fear I must go myself.

I think I shall not be long. You do as I told you, please;

And tell your mother where I am gone.

Pam.I hope you’ll find them.

[Exit.Chr.I shan’t come back without ’em.

Chr.I shan’t come back without ’em.

Pam.(aside).Good-bye then, dad, for ever!

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