ACT · V

ACT · VMENEDEMUS and CLINIA.MENEDEMUS.YOU have made me, my dear Clinia, the very happiest of fathers,By this return to your senses; indeed I ran great riskOf taking leave of my own: but since I have you back,’Tis nothing but happiness: and gladly I now consentTo the match, which hitherto in your own interestI have only opposed because I would not have you marryA woman not freeborn. To be sure I cdhave wished’Twas somebody else’s daughter than Chremes’. After allIt might be worse. But are you sure you hold to it still,And wish to marry her?CLINIA.1350I, father? How can you ask?Men.You are young to marry; but, mind, I should not make your ageAn objection, provided I thought you knew what marriage is.But do you, can you know? You have only experienceOf childhood, and some few years of youthful liberty:What can thát teach? Your tie to me, your friendships,—Some intimate friendships too: but nothing here nor thereComparable to the bond of marriage. Suppose I say’Tis, next to existence, the most familiar thing in the world:—1358Then judge how jealous pride & self-regard should be,Ere they admit this master circumstance to rule,As rule it must. You know the story Plato tellsOf Er, the Armenian soldier, & what he saw in death,Permitted to stand between the gates of heaven and hell;How there he saw the souls, who, ere they came on earth,Were choosing each their lives in turn—and, what was strange,How wantonly and without deliberation they chose,Making a rush at what they fancied first: and this,So Plato said, explained man’s discontent on earth,His misery being his fault. All wh, be it fable or no,Clinia, has this much truth; that you may see the likeWithout going down to the grave, nor any revelationOf nature’s secrecies—but every day on earth,1372In men that wive. With them the stake is no less great;Their carelessness in choice, their after-discontentMatch each in kind. Now I would play the interpreterTo you, as some celestial did to Er: I warn you,Take not this step in haste. You choose a second being:The lives are strewn before you: is this the best to take?Clin.O if you knew Antiphila, father, you would not ask.1380Men.Very well. I see your choice is made. I only wishShe did not drink.Clin.O father! you know—Men.Yes, yes. I know.What a number of sad mistakes Chremes has made to-day!He has not discovered yet who the two Persians were,Who came to frighten me.Clin.I hope I need not tell you, father,I never wished that done. I feared you might be grieved:But Chremes being so sure you never would forgive me . . .Men.Was he?Clin.He said you told him.Men.Did he? He has been to blame.There’s much he will have to explain to me, which he will not wishAnother to hear. Retire to the garden, while I go1390And smooth things over with him, and ask his daughter’s hand.Clin.How long?Men.Well, if I send, be ready at once to come:And see that Pamphilus too is handy: explain to him,That if I can be happy enough to make his peace with his father,His presence will then be needed.[Exit.Clin.I hope it will not be long.Men.I am not very wise myself or clever, that I know:And I may have behaved in a manner open to criticism,I may have even provoked derision, that may be;I think I have. But this same would-be helper of mine,1399My counsellor and guide, Chremes, is very far beyond me.I never did anything half so foolish in all my lifeAs to trust my secrets to him. In time now; here he comes.Enter Chremes.CHREMES.Ah, my good Menedemus, now I have news indeed.Men.I know it, Chremes, and give you my hearty congratulations.’Tis a happy day for us both: for you have found a daughter,And I . . .Chr.You know it already? Who told you?Men.My son.Chr.Your son!Men.Clinia. Yes. He is in my house. I was coming acrossTo ask you to join your treasure so newly found with mine:And to give your daughter to-day to my son in marriage.Chr.Well!I cannot understand it. Where did he come from? When?1410Men.Why, that’s the strangest of all: he landed only this morning,Met your son in the town; & has been in yóur houseEver since.Chr.My house?Men.It seems your son is a friend of his:He introduced him, but under another name, becauseHe did not wish to be known.Chr.Not Clitipho?Men.Ay, ’twas that.Chr.There then! O how I have been deceived! And you were rightAbout the Persians too: they were a make-believe.Men.So I guessed all along, Chremes.Chr.But who then were they?Men.Forgive me, my good friend, I ask you once for all,1419The annoyance my family affairs have been to you to-day.Your kindness has brought you only vexation.Chr.O, I am sureYou are welcome enough to any service that I can render.Men.Then pray oblige me in this, and overlook the follyOf the actors in thís fárce. The intention was to deceiveMe and not you: till you accidentally, as it seems,Came in their way: and then they could not help themselves:They even tried to avoid you.Chr.Who were they?Men.Remember too’Tis the feast of Bacchus to-day, ’tis not so great a crimeTo droll on a private person, at a time that is set apartFor mirth and jollity, and when buffoonery too makes upA part of the festival.1430Chr.I think no gentlemanShould suffer buffoonery to cover an insult.Men.Supposing not,Yet none was intended.Chr.Who were they?Men.The deceit was planned for me,And I forgive it.Chr.Who were they?Men.They came from yóur house.Chr.Not Clinia?Men.No; although it was done in his interest.Your son was one, and a friend . . .Chr.I know: Philolaches.I see.Men.It seems they had drawn from you, I know not how,Somewhat too harsh a picture of me: so ’twas resolvedTo put me to proof.Chr.Menedemus, since ’twas my own son,It does not matter; for now my account with him is closed.Men.What say you?1440Chr.Well, never mind. He is now no more my son.O Menedemus, indeed he has treated me shamefully.This morning I thought your son had acted ill by you:How willingly now I’d change.Men.You make too much of it.No harm was meant; and none has been done: a foolish hoax,And nothing more.Chr.You cannot hope to persuade me nowThere is any excuse for a son deceiving his own father.Men.I think a father would find one, Chremes, where there was none.Chr.Nay, nay: no more of him. I understand you cameAbout my daughter.Men.I did. Clinia asks her hand.Chr.You know she is not that woman they made me think....1450Men.I know.Chr.Menedemus, I never wished to have a daughter. I thoughtA girl was a burden, the worst possession a man could have;Costly to rear, costly to keep, costly to get rid of.It seems I was wrong. I have had a daughter, who from her cradleHas never cost me a single penny, and the very hourShe is thrown on my hands, she has offers of marriage. ’Tis not for meTo hinder the kindness of heaven. You are welcome to take her. YetI have one condition: the dowry.Men.Certainly: about that1459We shall not quarrel however. My son will be rich: and youWill give as you think is fit.Chr.I still shall insist on terms.You will not oppose a project of mine?Men.I promise not;Consider it settled: & now let us put the business off,And bring the two young lovers happily face to face.I long to see Antiphila.Chr.Wait. I’ll call my wife,[Goes toL.And tell her to bring her out.Men.And I will call my son.[Goes toR.(Calling) Clinia!Re-enter Clinia.Clin.Father!Men.Come! Is Pamphilus there?Clin.He is.Men.Let him be ready.Enter Sostrata and Antiphila.Chr.See here, Menedemus, my daughter.Men.And mine.My dear Antiphila, I fear you have heard hard tales of me:I have therefore the greater pleasure in bringing you, now we meet,1470The joy I have stood in the way of. I have asked your good fatherTo grant your hand to my son in marriage: he has consented.See, here is Clinia. Let me join your hands—for ever.Be happy.SOSTRATA.(Aside.) The dear old man; see how he weeps for joy.Chr.You will not deny me now, Menedemus, I’m sure: you’ll comeAnd spend what is left of the day at my house. You will dine with us?Men.With all my heart. You have not presented me to your wife.I beg....Chr.Come, Sostrata, come & make your complimentsTo our new relation.Men.Your servant, madam.Sost.O sir, I am gladMy Antiphila will have your son for a husband.Men.I am very proudOf such a daughter-in-law. But now, if I may ask,1481Where is your son Pamphilus? He should not be absent now.Chr.Don’t ask for him.Sost.I beseech you speak with my husband, sir.Chr.I beg, Menedemus, you’ll say no more. I have cast him off.Men.I still shall venture to plead his forgiveness.Chr.’Tis too late.I have sent him off already: he is gone.Men.Not so: he is here.(Calls) Pamphilus! (To Chremes) Do not blame me; I promised to plead for him.Enter Pamphilus.Chr.How dare you again appear in my presence, wretch? Be off!I tell you that I disown you. Yes, Menedemus, & youWill not attempt, I beg, to avert the punishment1490He more than deserves. I have cast him away and cut him off.My whole fortune I leave to Antiphila—that is the thingI said I shdask—you promised not to oppose me: nowI beg you will not.Men.Consider if you are wise.Chr.Not wise?Sost.O you are very unwise!Chr.Wife!Sost.Why, he is your son!Chr.Extremely kind of you to say so! there’s not a doubt in the worldHe is yours: but were I you, I shdnot be very vain,Being mirrored in such a cub.Sost.O Chremes, your own son!Chr.Not were he twice my son, and sprung from my head, as they sayMinerva was from Jove’s, would I own him.PAMPHILUS.Consider, sir,1500My mother’s feelings, although you do not consider me.Chr.I do not consider you, sir? In all I have done,I have kept You and your follies in view: considering what you are,I thought you would rather think I considered you too much.I consider you reckless, sir; I consider that you pursueYour pleasure and vulgar tastes. I consider you quite unfitTo be trusted with money, and so I have hit on a plan, by whichYou’ll be, I consider, spared the trouble of managing it;And though not launched on the world as I’d wish to see my son,You’ll be, I consider, ensured from absolute destitution.1510Unable to leave you my wealth, I turn to those that are next,To them I do not shrink from entrusting it; and I consider,That at their house, Pamphilus, you will always find at leastA refuge, food & clothes, & a roof above your head.Pam.Good God!Chr.Don’t swear.—’Tis better than that you should be my heir,And Gorgo squander it. Eh, sir?Pam.O, I wish I was dead.Chr.First learn what ’tis to live: when you know that, if lifeDisplease you still, then wish to die.Men.Chremes, allow meTo urge you in this. You could not really wish him to goTo Persia, say, and forsake you, as Clinia díd mé.1520Chr.Forsake me! why, let him go to perdition for all I care,Rather than stay at home and drag his father downTo beggary with his vices and follies: for if I onceWere saddled with his expenses, I guess ’twould come very soonTo my using that spade of yours, Menedemus, in good earnest.Men.You offered me your advice this morning; now I in turn....Chr.I do not need advice.Men.Spoil not so happy a day.Chr.I have found a daughter to-day, Menedemus, but lost a son.Men.You have lost your daughter to me, let me restore your son.Sost.O do forgive him, Chremes; you must.Chr.Pray, silence, wife.1530Clin.Me, sir, you cannot blame for taking a brother’s part.His fault was partly mine: and what was wrongly doneWas done in my behalf.Chr.No, no, there’s no excuse.Enter Philolaches as a Persian.Men.Why, here’s our friend the Persian.Chr.Pray, sir, what will you?PHILOLACHES.I hear you have been enquiring for me in the town. Behold me!Chr.I do not want you now: I know, sir, who you are.The game is all played out. We have done with masquerades,And personating others.Ph.I may take it then I addressChremes, and not Menedemus?Chr.You do, sir; and be so kindAs now to restore me the money, which under a false pretenceYou made me give you to-day.1540Ph.’Tis not the Persian custom.Chr.You and your Persian customs be hanged, sir; and I believeYou’re more than half to blame for all the impertinenceI have suffered to-day.Ph.I am, sir; I came to make the confession;But if you know it already, why do you spite your son?I have been your guest to-day, & if I have overstrainedThe liberty of the feast, I am ready in turn to payThe penalty. In the name of Bacchus, disown and cast off me,Disinherit me if you will. But him, your flesh & blood,Pity and forgive.Men.Yes, Chremes.ANTIPHILA.O father, do give in!1550Chr.Now that’s the first time, lass, you have called me father. I seeI shall have to yield.Ant.O thank you.Chr.Stay. If I do give in,’Tis only on two conditions.Men.I’ll answer for Pamphilus,That he’ll accept them: what are they?Chr.First, my forty pounds;To get that back from Gorgo.Pam.I can’t do that.Chr.You can’t?Men.You spent that money, Chremes, advanced it rather for me,Thinking to do me a service. I’ll ask you let it be meWho does it for you. I’ll gladly pay it: it is not lost.Consider this condition fulfilled.Chr.You are kinder farTo my boy than he has deserved.Men.And what is the other matter?Chr.This. He must marry.Pam.Father!1560Chr.I will not hear a word.Men.I’ll vouch for him that he will do it.Chr.He does not say so himself.Pam.No use,—impossible.Sost.Can you hesitate, Pamphilus?Chr.Nay, let him do as he likes.Men.He’ll do it—everything.Sost.This must seem strange at first & disagreeable,Before you have even thought of it. When you know more of it,You’ll like it.Pam.I will, father.Chr.Good! son: for though a wifeIs an evil, she is a necessary evil, and one to whichYou will get accustomed in time. ’Tis more respectable tooTo be married; and the only cure for a temper such as yours.Sost.I’ll help you choose, my dear Pamphilus; I know who—1570That clever, charming girl, whom you’ll be in love with directly;The orphan niece of our old neighbour, Phanocrates.Pam.What, not that red-haired thing, with a mouth from ear to ear,And a little knob of a nose. I couldn’t.Chr.Why, only seeHow nice he has grown: it’s plain he means what he says now.Sost.Why, I’m sure, Pamphilus, she is a pinnacle of perfection.But I know another.Pam.No, no; if I am to marry, be hanged!I’ll choose for myself. I know of a girl will do very well.Sost.Who is it?Pam.Archonides’ daughter.Sost.You cdnot have pleased me more.Chr.My word! I do believe my wife & I are agreedOn something at last. O wonderful day!1581Sost.Chremes, I knew’Twould end like this.Chr.Now, wife! none of your prophecies.Come in, come all to dinner.Pam.Philolaches was asked;May he come too?Chr.Oh yes! if it’s the Persian custom.I’ll bear no grudge to-day; come in, sir, with the rest,And help to make us merry. This isthe Feast of Bacchus.

MENEDEMUS and CLINIA.MENEDEMUS.YOU have made me, my dear Clinia, the very happiest of fathers,By this return to your senses; indeed I ran great riskOf taking leave of my own: but since I have you back,’Tis nothing but happiness: and gladly I now consentTo the match, which hitherto in your own interestI have only opposed because I would not have you marryA woman not freeborn. To be sure I cdhave wished’Twas somebody else’s daughter than Chremes’. After allIt might be worse. But are you sure you hold to it still,And wish to marry her?CLINIA.1350I, father? How can you ask?Men.You are young to marry; but, mind, I should not make your ageAn objection, provided I thought you knew what marriage is.But do you, can you know? You have only experienceOf childhood, and some few years of youthful liberty:What can thát teach? Your tie to me, your friendships,—Some intimate friendships too: but nothing here nor thereComparable to the bond of marriage. Suppose I say’Tis, next to existence, the most familiar thing in the world:—1358Then judge how jealous pride & self-regard should be,Ere they admit this master circumstance to rule,As rule it must. You know the story Plato tellsOf Er, the Armenian soldier, & what he saw in death,Permitted to stand between the gates of heaven and hell;How there he saw the souls, who, ere they came on earth,Were choosing each their lives in turn—and, what was strange,How wantonly and without deliberation they chose,Making a rush at what they fancied first: and this,So Plato said, explained man’s discontent on earth,His misery being his fault. All wh, be it fable or no,Clinia, has this much truth; that you may see the likeWithout going down to the grave, nor any revelationOf nature’s secrecies—but every day on earth,1372In men that wive. With them the stake is no less great;Their carelessness in choice, their after-discontentMatch each in kind. Now I would play the interpreterTo you, as some celestial did to Er: I warn you,Take not this step in haste. You choose a second being:The lives are strewn before you: is this the best to take?Clin.O if you knew Antiphila, father, you would not ask.1380Men.Very well. I see your choice is made. I only wishShe did not drink.Clin.O father! you know—Men.Yes, yes. I know.What a number of sad mistakes Chremes has made to-day!He has not discovered yet who the two Persians were,Who came to frighten me.Clin.I hope I need not tell you, father,I never wished that done. I feared you might be grieved:But Chremes being so sure you never would forgive me . . .Men.Was he?Clin.He said you told him.Men.Did he? He has been to blame.There’s much he will have to explain to me, which he will not wishAnother to hear. Retire to the garden, while I go1390And smooth things over with him, and ask his daughter’s hand.Clin.How long?Men.Well, if I send, be ready at once to come:And see that Pamphilus too is handy: explain to him,That if I can be happy enough to make his peace with his father,His presence will then be needed.[Exit.Clin.I hope it will not be long.Men.I am not very wise myself or clever, that I know:And I may have behaved in a manner open to criticism,I may have even provoked derision, that may be;I think I have. But this same would-be helper of mine,1399My counsellor and guide, Chremes, is very far beyond me.I never did anything half so foolish in all my lifeAs to trust my secrets to him. In time now; here he comes.Enter Chremes.CHREMES.Ah, my good Menedemus, now I have news indeed.Men.I know it, Chremes, and give you my hearty congratulations.’Tis a happy day for us both: for you have found a daughter,And I . . .Chr.You know it already? Who told you?Men.My son.Chr.Your son!Men.Clinia. Yes. He is in my house. I was coming acrossTo ask you to join your treasure so newly found with mine:And to give your daughter to-day to my son in marriage.Chr.Well!I cannot understand it. Where did he come from? When?1410Men.Why, that’s the strangest of all: he landed only this morning,Met your son in the town; & has been in yóur houseEver since.Chr.My house?Men.It seems your son is a friend of his:He introduced him, but under another name, becauseHe did not wish to be known.Chr.Not Clitipho?Men.Ay, ’twas that.Chr.There then! O how I have been deceived! And you were rightAbout the Persians too: they were a make-believe.Men.So I guessed all along, Chremes.Chr.But who then were they?Men.Forgive me, my good friend, I ask you once for all,1419The annoyance my family affairs have been to you to-day.Your kindness has brought you only vexation.Chr.O, I am sureYou are welcome enough to any service that I can render.Men.Then pray oblige me in this, and overlook the follyOf the actors in thís fárce. The intention was to deceiveMe and not you: till you accidentally, as it seems,Came in their way: and then they could not help themselves:They even tried to avoid you.Chr.Who were they?Men.Remember too’Tis the feast of Bacchus to-day, ’tis not so great a crimeTo droll on a private person, at a time that is set apartFor mirth and jollity, and when buffoonery too makes upA part of the festival.1430Chr.I think no gentlemanShould suffer buffoonery to cover an insult.Men.Supposing not,Yet none was intended.Chr.Who were they?Men.The deceit was planned for me,And I forgive it.Chr.Who were they?Men.They came from yóur house.Chr.Not Clinia?Men.No; although it was done in his interest.Your son was one, and a friend . . .Chr.I know: Philolaches.I see.Men.It seems they had drawn from you, I know not how,Somewhat too harsh a picture of me: so ’twas resolvedTo put me to proof.Chr.Menedemus, since ’twas my own son,It does not matter; for now my account with him is closed.Men.What say you?1440Chr.Well, never mind. He is now no more my son.O Menedemus, indeed he has treated me shamefully.This morning I thought your son had acted ill by you:How willingly now I’d change.Men.You make too much of it.No harm was meant; and none has been done: a foolish hoax,And nothing more.Chr.You cannot hope to persuade me nowThere is any excuse for a son deceiving his own father.Men.I think a father would find one, Chremes, where there was none.Chr.Nay, nay: no more of him. I understand you cameAbout my daughter.Men.I did. Clinia asks her hand.Chr.You know she is not that woman they made me think....1450Men.I know.Chr.Menedemus, I never wished to have a daughter. I thoughtA girl was a burden, the worst possession a man could have;Costly to rear, costly to keep, costly to get rid of.It seems I was wrong. I have had a daughter, who from her cradleHas never cost me a single penny, and the very hourShe is thrown on my hands, she has offers of marriage. ’Tis not for meTo hinder the kindness of heaven. You are welcome to take her. YetI have one condition: the dowry.Men.Certainly: about that1459We shall not quarrel however. My son will be rich: and youWill give as you think is fit.Chr.I still shall insist on terms.You will not oppose a project of mine?Men.I promise not;Consider it settled: & now let us put the business off,And bring the two young lovers happily face to face.I long to see Antiphila.Chr.Wait. I’ll call my wife,[Goes toL.And tell her to bring her out.Men.And I will call my son.[Goes toR.(Calling) Clinia!Re-enter Clinia.Clin.Father!Men.Come! Is Pamphilus there?Clin.He is.Men.Let him be ready.Enter Sostrata and Antiphila.Chr.See here, Menedemus, my daughter.Men.And mine.My dear Antiphila, I fear you have heard hard tales of me:I have therefore the greater pleasure in bringing you, now we meet,1470The joy I have stood in the way of. I have asked your good fatherTo grant your hand to my son in marriage: he has consented.See, here is Clinia. Let me join your hands—for ever.Be happy.SOSTRATA.(Aside.) The dear old man; see how he weeps for joy.Chr.You will not deny me now, Menedemus, I’m sure: you’ll comeAnd spend what is left of the day at my house. You will dine with us?Men.With all my heart. You have not presented me to your wife.I beg....Chr.Come, Sostrata, come & make your complimentsTo our new relation.Men.Your servant, madam.Sost.O sir, I am gladMy Antiphila will have your son for a husband.Men.I am very proudOf such a daughter-in-law. But now, if I may ask,1481Where is your son Pamphilus? He should not be absent now.Chr.Don’t ask for him.Sost.I beseech you speak with my husband, sir.Chr.I beg, Menedemus, you’ll say no more. I have cast him off.Men.I still shall venture to plead his forgiveness.Chr.’Tis too late.I have sent him off already: he is gone.Men.Not so: he is here.(Calls) Pamphilus! (To Chremes) Do not blame me; I promised to plead for him.Enter Pamphilus.Chr.How dare you again appear in my presence, wretch? Be off!I tell you that I disown you. Yes, Menedemus, & youWill not attempt, I beg, to avert the punishment1490He more than deserves. I have cast him away and cut him off.My whole fortune I leave to Antiphila—that is the thingI said I shdask—you promised not to oppose me: nowI beg you will not.Men.Consider if you are wise.Chr.Not wise?Sost.O you are very unwise!Chr.Wife!Sost.Why, he is your son!Chr.Extremely kind of you to say so! there’s not a doubt in the worldHe is yours: but were I you, I shdnot be very vain,Being mirrored in such a cub.Sost.O Chremes, your own son!Chr.Not were he twice my son, and sprung from my head, as they sayMinerva was from Jove’s, would I own him.PAMPHILUS.Consider, sir,1500My mother’s feelings, although you do not consider me.Chr.I do not consider you, sir? In all I have done,I have kept You and your follies in view: considering what you are,I thought you would rather think I considered you too much.I consider you reckless, sir; I consider that you pursueYour pleasure and vulgar tastes. I consider you quite unfitTo be trusted with money, and so I have hit on a plan, by whichYou’ll be, I consider, spared the trouble of managing it;And though not launched on the world as I’d wish to see my son,You’ll be, I consider, ensured from absolute destitution.1510Unable to leave you my wealth, I turn to those that are next,To them I do not shrink from entrusting it; and I consider,That at their house, Pamphilus, you will always find at leastA refuge, food & clothes, & a roof above your head.Pam.Good God!Chr.Don’t swear.—’Tis better than that you should be my heir,And Gorgo squander it. Eh, sir?Pam.O, I wish I was dead.Chr.First learn what ’tis to live: when you know that, if lifeDisplease you still, then wish to die.Men.Chremes, allow meTo urge you in this. You could not really wish him to goTo Persia, say, and forsake you, as Clinia díd mé.1520Chr.Forsake me! why, let him go to perdition for all I care,Rather than stay at home and drag his father downTo beggary with his vices and follies: for if I onceWere saddled with his expenses, I guess ’twould come very soonTo my using that spade of yours, Menedemus, in good earnest.Men.You offered me your advice this morning; now I in turn....Chr.I do not need advice.Men.Spoil not so happy a day.Chr.I have found a daughter to-day, Menedemus, but lost a son.Men.You have lost your daughter to me, let me restore your son.Sost.O do forgive him, Chremes; you must.Chr.Pray, silence, wife.1530Clin.Me, sir, you cannot blame for taking a brother’s part.His fault was partly mine: and what was wrongly doneWas done in my behalf.Chr.No, no, there’s no excuse.Enter Philolaches as a Persian.Men.Why, here’s our friend the Persian.Chr.Pray, sir, what will you?PHILOLACHES.I hear you have been enquiring for me in the town. Behold me!Chr.I do not want you now: I know, sir, who you are.The game is all played out. We have done with masquerades,And personating others.Ph.I may take it then I addressChremes, and not Menedemus?Chr.You do, sir; and be so kindAs now to restore me the money, which under a false pretenceYou made me give you to-day.1540Ph.’Tis not the Persian custom.Chr.You and your Persian customs be hanged, sir; and I believeYou’re more than half to blame for all the impertinenceI have suffered to-day.Ph.I am, sir; I came to make the confession;But if you know it already, why do you spite your son?I have been your guest to-day, & if I have overstrainedThe liberty of the feast, I am ready in turn to payThe penalty. In the name of Bacchus, disown and cast off me,Disinherit me if you will. But him, your flesh & blood,Pity and forgive.Men.Yes, Chremes.ANTIPHILA.O father, do give in!1550Chr.Now that’s the first time, lass, you have called me father. I seeI shall have to yield.Ant.O thank you.Chr.Stay. If I do give in,’Tis only on two conditions.Men.I’ll answer for Pamphilus,That he’ll accept them: what are they?Chr.First, my forty pounds;To get that back from Gorgo.Pam.I can’t do that.Chr.You can’t?Men.You spent that money, Chremes, advanced it rather for me,Thinking to do me a service. I’ll ask you let it be meWho does it for you. I’ll gladly pay it: it is not lost.Consider this condition fulfilled.Chr.You are kinder farTo my boy than he has deserved.Men.And what is the other matter?Chr.This. He must marry.Pam.Father!1560Chr.I will not hear a word.Men.I’ll vouch for him that he will do it.Chr.He does not say so himself.Pam.No use,—impossible.Sost.Can you hesitate, Pamphilus?Chr.Nay, let him do as he likes.Men.He’ll do it—everything.Sost.This must seem strange at first & disagreeable,Before you have even thought of it. When you know more of it,You’ll like it.Pam.I will, father.Chr.Good! son: for though a wifeIs an evil, she is a necessary evil, and one to whichYou will get accustomed in time. ’Tis more respectable tooTo be married; and the only cure for a temper such as yours.Sost.I’ll help you choose, my dear Pamphilus; I know who—1570That clever, charming girl, whom you’ll be in love with directly;The orphan niece of our old neighbour, Phanocrates.Pam.What, not that red-haired thing, with a mouth from ear to ear,And a little knob of a nose. I couldn’t.Chr.Why, only seeHow nice he has grown: it’s plain he means what he says now.Sost.Why, I’m sure, Pamphilus, she is a pinnacle of perfection.But I know another.Pam.No, no; if I am to marry, be hanged!I’ll choose for myself. I know of a girl will do very well.Sost.Who is it?Pam.Archonides’ daughter.Sost.You cdnot have pleased me more.Chr.My word! I do believe my wife & I are agreedOn something at last. O wonderful day!1581Sost.Chremes, I knew’Twould end like this.Chr.Now, wife! none of your prophecies.Come in, come all to dinner.Pam.Philolaches was asked;May he come too?Chr.Oh yes! if it’s the Persian custom.I’ll bear no grudge to-day; come in, sir, with the rest,And help to make us merry. This isthe Feast of Bacchus.

MENEDEMUS and CLINIA.MENEDEMUS.

MENEDEMUS and CLINIA.

MENEDEMUS.

YOU have made me, my dear Clinia, the very happiest of fathers,By this return to your senses; indeed I ran great riskOf taking leave of my own: but since I have you back,’Tis nothing but happiness: and gladly I now consentTo the match, which hitherto in your own interestI have only opposed because I would not have you marryA woman not freeborn. To be sure I cdhave wished’Twas somebody else’s daughter than Chremes’. After allIt might be worse. But are you sure you hold to it still,And wish to marry her?

YOU have made me, my dear Clinia, the very happiest of fathers,

By this return to your senses; indeed I ran great risk

Of taking leave of my own: but since I have you back,

’Tis nothing but happiness: and gladly I now consent

To the match, which hitherto in your own interest

I have only opposed because I would not have you marry

A woman not freeborn. To be sure I cdhave wished

’Twas somebody else’s daughter than Chremes’. After all

It might be worse. But are you sure you hold to it still,

And wish to marry her?

CLINIA.

1350I, father? How can you ask?

I, father? How can you ask?

Men.You are young to marry; but, mind, I should not make your ageAn objection, provided I thought you knew what marriage is.But do you, can you know? You have only experienceOf childhood, and some few years of youthful liberty:What can thát teach? Your tie to me, your friendships,—Some intimate friendships too: but nothing here nor thereComparable to the bond of marriage. Suppose I say’Tis, next to existence, the most familiar thing in the world:—1358Then judge how jealous pride & self-regard should be,Ere they admit this master circumstance to rule,As rule it must. You know the story Plato tellsOf Er, the Armenian soldier, & what he saw in death,Permitted to stand between the gates of heaven and hell;How there he saw the souls, who, ere they came on earth,Were choosing each their lives in turn—and, what was strange,How wantonly and without deliberation they chose,Making a rush at what they fancied first: and this,So Plato said, explained man’s discontent on earth,His misery being his fault. All wh, be it fable or no,Clinia, has this much truth; that you may see the likeWithout going down to the grave, nor any revelationOf nature’s secrecies—but every day on earth,1372In men that wive. With them the stake is no less great;Their carelessness in choice, their after-discontentMatch each in kind. Now I would play the interpreterTo you, as some celestial did to Er: I warn you,Take not this step in haste. You choose a second being:The lives are strewn before you: is this the best to take?

Men.You are young to marry; but, mind, I should not make your age

An objection, provided I thought you knew what marriage is.

But do you, can you know? You have only experience

Of childhood, and some few years of youthful liberty:

What can thát teach? Your tie to me, your friendships,—

Some intimate friendships too: but nothing here nor there

Comparable to the bond of marriage. Suppose I say

’Tis, next to existence, the most familiar thing in the world:—1358

Then judge how jealous pride & self-regard should be,

Ere they admit this master circumstance to rule,

As rule it must. You know the story Plato tells

Of Er, the Armenian soldier, & what he saw in death,

Permitted to stand between the gates of heaven and hell;

How there he saw the souls, who, ere they came on earth,

Were choosing each their lives in turn—and, what was strange,

How wantonly and without deliberation they chose,

Making a rush at what they fancied first: and this,

So Plato said, explained man’s discontent on earth,

His misery being his fault. All wh, be it fable or no,

Clinia, has this much truth; that you may see the like

Without going down to the grave, nor any revelation

Of nature’s secrecies—but every day on earth,1372

In men that wive. With them the stake is no less great;

Their carelessness in choice, their after-discontent

Match each in kind. Now I would play the interpreter

To you, as some celestial did to Er: I warn you,

Take not this step in haste. You choose a second being:

The lives are strewn before you: is this the best to take?

Clin.O if you knew Antiphila, father, you would not ask.

1380Men.Very well. I see your choice is made. I only wishShe did not drink.

Men.Very well. I see your choice is made. I only wish

She did not drink.

Clin.O father! you know—

Men.Yes, yes. I know.What a number of sad mistakes Chremes has made to-day!He has not discovered yet who the two Persians were,Who came to frighten me.

Men.Yes, yes. I know.

What a number of sad mistakes Chremes has made to-day!

He has not discovered yet who the two Persians were,

Who came to frighten me.

Clin.I hope I need not tell you, father,I never wished that done. I feared you might be grieved:But Chremes being so sure you never would forgive me . . .

Clin.I hope I need not tell you, father,

I never wished that done. I feared you might be grieved:

But Chremes being so sure you never would forgive me . . .

Men.Was he?

Clin.He said you told him.

Men.Did he? He has been to blame.There’s much he will have to explain to me, which he will not wishAnother to hear. Retire to the garden, while I go1390And smooth things over with him, and ask his daughter’s hand.

Men.Did he? He has been to blame.

There’s much he will have to explain to me, which he will not wish

Another to hear. Retire to the garden, while I go

And smooth things over with him, and ask his daughter’s hand.

Clin.How long?

Men.Well, if I send, be ready at once to come:And see that Pamphilus too is handy: explain to him,That if I can be happy enough to make his peace with his father,His presence will then be needed.

Men.Well, if I send, be ready at once to come:

And see that Pamphilus too is handy: explain to him,

That if I can be happy enough to make his peace with his father,

His presence will then be needed.

[Exit.Clin.I hope it will not be long.

Clin.I hope it will not be long.

Men.I am not very wise myself or clever, that I know:And I may have behaved in a manner open to criticism,I may have even provoked derision, that may be;I think I have. But this same would-be helper of mine,1399My counsellor and guide, Chremes, is very far beyond me.I never did anything half so foolish in all my lifeAs to trust my secrets to him. In time now; here he comes.

Men.I am not very wise myself or clever, that I know:

And I may have behaved in a manner open to criticism,

I may have even provoked derision, that may be;

I think I have. But this same would-be helper of mine,

My counsellor and guide, Chremes, is very far beyond me.

I never did anything half so foolish in all my life

As to trust my secrets to him. In time now; here he comes.

Enter Chremes.

CHREMES.

Ah, my good Menedemus, now I have news indeed.

Men.I know it, Chremes, and give you my hearty congratulations.’Tis a happy day for us both: for you have found a daughter,And I . . .

Men.I know it, Chremes, and give you my hearty congratulations.

’Tis a happy day for us both: for you have found a daughter,

And I . . .

Chr.You know it already? Who told you?

Men.My son.

Chr.Your son!

Men.Clinia. Yes. He is in my house. I was coming acrossTo ask you to join your treasure so newly found with mine:And to give your daughter to-day to my son in marriage.

Men.Clinia. Yes. He is in my house. I was coming across

To ask you to join your treasure so newly found with mine:

And to give your daughter to-day to my son in marriage.

Chr.Well!I cannot understand it. Where did he come from? When?

Chr.Well!

I cannot understand it. Where did he come from? When?

1410Men.Why, that’s the strangest of all: he landed only this morning,Met your son in the town; & has been in yóur houseEver since.

Men.Why, that’s the strangest of all: he landed only this morning,

Met your son in the town; & has been in yóur house

Ever since.

Chr.My house?

Men.It seems your son is a friend of his:He introduced him, but under another name, becauseHe did not wish to be known.

Men.It seems your son is a friend of his:

He introduced him, but under another name, because

He did not wish to be known.

Chr.Not Clitipho?

Men.Ay, ’twas that.

Chr.There then! O how I have been deceived! And you were rightAbout the Persians too: they were a make-believe.

Chr.There then! O how I have been deceived! And you were right

About the Persians too: they were a make-believe.

Men.So I guessed all along, Chremes.

Chr.But who then were they?

Men.Forgive me, my good friend, I ask you once for all,1419The annoyance my family affairs have been to you to-day.Your kindness has brought you only vexation.

Men.Forgive me, my good friend, I ask you once for all,

The annoyance my family affairs have been to you to-day.

Your kindness has brought you only vexation.

Chr.O, I am sureYou are welcome enough to any service that I can render.

Chr.O, I am sure

You are welcome enough to any service that I can render.

Men.Then pray oblige me in this, and overlook the follyOf the actors in thís fárce. The intention was to deceiveMe and not you: till you accidentally, as it seems,Came in their way: and then they could not help themselves:They even tried to avoid you.

Men.Then pray oblige me in this, and overlook the folly

Of the actors in thís fárce. The intention was to deceive

Me and not you: till you accidentally, as it seems,

Came in their way: and then they could not help themselves:

They even tried to avoid you.

Chr.Who were they?

Men.Remember too’Tis the feast of Bacchus to-day, ’tis not so great a crimeTo droll on a private person, at a time that is set apartFor mirth and jollity, and when buffoonery too makes upA part of the festival.

Men.Remember too

’Tis the feast of Bacchus to-day, ’tis not so great a crime

To droll on a private person, at a time that is set apart

For mirth and jollity, and when buffoonery too makes up

A part of the festival.

1430Chr.I think no gentlemanShould suffer buffoonery to cover an insult.

Chr.I think no gentleman

Should suffer buffoonery to cover an insult.

Men.Supposing not,Yet none was intended.

Men.Supposing not,

Yet none was intended.

Chr.Who were they?

Men.The deceit was planned for me,And I forgive it.

Men.The deceit was planned for me,

And I forgive it.

Chr.Who were they?

Men.They came from yóur house.

Chr.Not Clinia?

Men.No; although it was done in his interest.Your son was one, and a friend . . .

Men.No; although it was done in his interest.

Your son was one, and a friend . . .

Chr.I know: Philolaches.I see.

Chr.I know: Philolaches.

I see.

Men.It seems they had drawn from you, I know not how,Somewhat too harsh a picture of me: so ’twas resolvedTo put me to proof.

Men.It seems they had drawn from you, I know not how,

Somewhat too harsh a picture of me: so ’twas resolved

To put me to proof.

Chr.Menedemus, since ’twas my own son,It does not matter; for now my account with him is closed.

Chr.Menedemus, since ’twas my own son,

It does not matter; for now my account with him is closed.

Men.What say you?

1440Chr.Well, never mind. He is now no more my son.O Menedemus, indeed he has treated me shamefully.This morning I thought your son had acted ill by you:How willingly now I’d change.

Chr.Well, never mind. He is now no more my son.

O Menedemus, indeed he has treated me shamefully.

This morning I thought your son had acted ill by you:

How willingly now I’d change.

Men.You make too much of it.No harm was meant; and none has been done: a foolish hoax,And nothing more.

Men.You make too much of it.

No harm was meant; and none has been done: a foolish hoax,

And nothing more.

Chr.You cannot hope to persuade me nowThere is any excuse for a son deceiving his own father.

Chr.You cannot hope to persuade me now

There is any excuse for a son deceiving his own father.

Men.I think a father would find one, Chremes, where there was none.

Chr.Nay, nay: no more of him. I understand you cameAbout my daughter.

Chr.Nay, nay: no more of him. I understand you came

About my daughter.

Men.I did. Clinia asks her hand.

Chr.You know she is not that woman they made me think....

1450Men.I know.

Men.I know.

Chr.Menedemus, I never wished to have a daughter. I thoughtA girl was a burden, the worst possession a man could have;Costly to rear, costly to keep, costly to get rid of.It seems I was wrong. I have had a daughter, who from her cradleHas never cost me a single penny, and the very hourShe is thrown on my hands, she has offers of marriage. ’Tis not for meTo hinder the kindness of heaven. You are welcome to take her. YetI have one condition: the dowry.

Chr.Menedemus, I never wished to have a daughter. I thought

A girl was a burden, the worst possession a man could have;

Costly to rear, costly to keep, costly to get rid of.

It seems I was wrong. I have had a daughter, who from her cradle

Has never cost me a single penny, and the very hour

She is thrown on my hands, she has offers of marriage. ’Tis not for me

To hinder the kindness of heaven. You are welcome to take her. Yet

I have one condition: the dowry.

Men.Certainly: about that1459We shall not quarrel however. My son will be rich: and youWill give as you think is fit.

Men.Certainly: about that

We shall not quarrel however. My son will be rich: and you

Will give as you think is fit.

Chr.I still shall insist on terms.You will not oppose a project of mine?

Chr.I still shall insist on terms.

You will not oppose a project of mine?

Men.I promise not;Consider it settled: & now let us put the business off,And bring the two young lovers happily face to face.I long to see Antiphila.

Men.I promise not;

Consider it settled: & now let us put the business off,

And bring the two young lovers happily face to face.

I long to see Antiphila.

Chr.Wait. I’ll call my wife,[Goes toL.And tell her to bring her out.

Chr.Wait. I’ll call my wife,[Goes toL.

And tell her to bring her out.

Men.And I will call my son.[Goes toR.(Calling) Clinia!

Men.And I will call my son.[Goes toR.

(Calling) Clinia!

Re-enter Clinia.

Clin.Father!

Men.Come! Is Pamphilus there?

Clin.He is.

Men.Let him be ready.

Enter Sostrata and Antiphila.

Chr.See here, Menedemus, my daughter.

Men.And mine.My dear Antiphila, I fear you have heard hard tales of me:I have therefore the greater pleasure in bringing you, now we meet,1470The joy I have stood in the way of. I have asked your good fatherTo grant your hand to my son in marriage: he has consented.See, here is Clinia. Let me join your hands—for ever.Be happy.

Men.And mine.

My dear Antiphila, I fear you have heard hard tales of me:

I have therefore the greater pleasure in bringing you, now we meet,

The joy I have stood in the way of. I have asked your good father

To grant your hand to my son in marriage: he has consented.

See, here is Clinia. Let me join your hands—for ever.

Be happy.

SOSTRATA.

(Aside.) The dear old man; see how he weeps for joy.

Chr.You will not deny me now, Menedemus, I’m sure: you’ll comeAnd spend what is left of the day at my house. You will dine with us?

Chr.You will not deny me now, Menedemus, I’m sure: you’ll come

And spend what is left of the day at my house. You will dine with us?

Men.With all my heart. You have not presented me to your wife.I beg....

Men.With all my heart. You have not presented me to your wife.

I beg....

Chr.Come, Sostrata, come & make your complimentsTo our new relation.

Chr.Come, Sostrata, come & make your compliments

To our new relation.

Men.Your servant, madam.

Sost.O sir, I am gladMy Antiphila will have your son for a husband.

Sost.O sir, I am glad

My Antiphila will have your son for a husband.

Men.I am very proudOf such a daughter-in-law. But now, if I may ask,1481Where is your son Pamphilus? He should not be absent now.

Men.I am very proud

Of such a daughter-in-law. But now, if I may ask,

Where is your son Pamphilus? He should not be absent now.

Chr.Don’t ask for him.

Sost.I beseech you speak with my husband, sir.

Chr.I beg, Menedemus, you’ll say no more. I have cast him off.

Men.I still shall venture to plead his forgiveness.

Chr.’Tis too late.I have sent him off already: he is gone.

Chr.’Tis too late.

I have sent him off already: he is gone.

Men.Not so: he is here.(Calls) Pamphilus! (To Chremes) Do not blame me; I promised to plead for him.

Men.Not so: he is here.

(Calls) Pamphilus! (To Chremes) Do not blame me; I promised to plead for him.

Enter Pamphilus.

Chr.How dare you again appear in my presence, wretch? Be off!I tell you that I disown you. Yes, Menedemus, & youWill not attempt, I beg, to avert the punishment1490He more than deserves. I have cast him away and cut him off.My whole fortune I leave to Antiphila—that is the thingI said I shdask—you promised not to oppose me: nowI beg you will not.

Chr.How dare you again appear in my presence, wretch? Be off!

I tell you that I disown you. Yes, Menedemus, & you

Will not attempt, I beg, to avert the punishment

He more than deserves. I have cast him away and cut him off.

My whole fortune I leave to Antiphila—that is the thing

I said I shdask—you promised not to oppose me: now

I beg you will not.

Men.Consider if you are wise.

Chr.Not wise?

Sost.O you are very unwise!

Chr.Wife!

Sost.Why, he is your son!

Chr.Extremely kind of you to say so! there’s not a doubt in the worldHe is yours: but were I you, I shdnot be very vain,Being mirrored in such a cub.

Chr.Extremely kind of you to say so! there’s not a doubt in the world

He is yours: but were I you, I shdnot be very vain,

Being mirrored in such a cub.

Sost.O Chremes, your own son!

Chr.Not were he twice my son, and sprung from my head, as they sayMinerva was from Jove’s, would I own him.

Chr.Not were he twice my son, and sprung from my head, as they say

Minerva was from Jove’s, would I own him.

PAMPHILUS.

Consider, sir,1500My mother’s feelings, although you do not consider me.

Consider, sir,

My mother’s feelings, although you do not consider me.

Chr.I do not consider you, sir? In all I have done,I have kept You and your follies in view: considering what you are,I thought you would rather think I considered you too much.I consider you reckless, sir; I consider that you pursueYour pleasure and vulgar tastes. I consider you quite unfitTo be trusted with money, and so I have hit on a plan, by whichYou’ll be, I consider, spared the trouble of managing it;And though not launched on the world as I’d wish to see my son,You’ll be, I consider, ensured from absolute destitution.1510Unable to leave you my wealth, I turn to those that are next,To them I do not shrink from entrusting it; and I consider,That at their house, Pamphilus, you will always find at leastA refuge, food & clothes, & a roof above your head.

Chr.I do not consider you, sir? In all I have done,

I have kept You and your follies in view: considering what you are,

I thought you would rather think I considered you too much.

I consider you reckless, sir; I consider that you pursue

Your pleasure and vulgar tastes. I consider you quite unfit

To be trusted with money, and so I have hit on a plan, by which

You’ll be, I consider, spared the trouble of managing it;

And though not launched on the world as I’d wish to see my son,

You’ll be, I consider, ensured from absolute destitution.

Unable to leave you my wealth, I turn to those that are next,

To them I do not shrink from entrusting it; and I consider,

That at their house, Pamphilus, you will always find at least

A refuge, food & clothes, & a roof above your head.

Pam.Good God!

Chr.Don’t swear.—’Tis better than that you should be my heir,And Gorgo squander it. Eh, sir?

Chr.Don’t swear.—’Tis better than that you should be my heir,

And Gorgo squander it. Eh, sir?

Pam.O, I wish I was dead.

Chr.First learn what ’tis to live: when you know that, if lifeDisplease you still, then wish to die.

Chr.First learn what ’tis to live: when you know that, if life

Displease you still, then wish to die.

Men.Chremes, allow meTo urge you in this. You could not really wish him to goTo Persia, say, and forsake you, as Clinia díd mé.

Men.Chremes, allow me

To urge you in this. You could not really wish him to go

To Persia, say, and forsake you, as Clinia díd mé.

1520Chr.Forsake me! why, let him go to perdition for all I care,Rather than stay at home and drag his father downTo beggary with his vices and follies: for if I onceWere saddled with his expenses, I guess ’twould come very soonTo my using that spade of yours, Menedemus, in good earnest.

Chr.Forsake me! why, let him go to perdition for all I care,

Rather than stay at home and drag his father down

To beggary with his vices and follies: for if I once

Were saddled with his expenses, I guess ’twould come very soon

To my using that spade of yours, Menedemus, in good earnest.

Men.You offered me your advice this morning; now I in turn....

Chr.I do not need advice.

Men.Spoil not so happy a day.

Chr.I have found a daughter to-day, Menedemus, but lost a son.

Men.You have lost your daughter to me, let me restore your son.

Sost.O do forgive him, Chremes; you must.

Chr.Pray, silence, wife.

1530Clin.Me, sir, you cannot blame for taking a brother’s part.His fault was partly mine: and what was wrongly doneWas done in my behalf.

Clin.Me, sir, you cannot blame for taking a brother’s part.

His fault was partly mine: and what was wrongly done

Was done in my behalf.

Chr.No, no, there’s no excuse.

Enter Philolaches as a Persian.

Men.Why, here’s our friend the Persian.

Chr.Pray, sir, what will you?

PHILOLACHES.

I hear you have been enquiring for me in the town. Behold me!

Chr.I do not want you now: I know, sir, who you are.The game is all played out. We have done with masquerades,And personating others.

Chr.I do not want you now: I know, sir, who you are.

The game is all played out. We have done with masquerades,

And personating others.

Ph.I may take it then I addressChremes, and not Menedemus?

Ph.I may take it then I address

Chremes, and not Menedemus?

Chr.You do, sir; and be so kindAs now to restore me the money, which under a false pretenceYou made me give you to-day.

Chr.You do, sir; and be so kind

As now to restore me the money, which under a false pretence

You made me give you to-day.

1540Ph.’Tis not the Persian custom.

Ph.’Tis not the Persian custom.

Chr.You and your Persian customs be hanged, sir; and I believeYou’re more than half to blame for all the impertinenceI have suffered to-day.

Chr.You and your Persian customs be hanged, sir; and I believe

You’re more than half to blame for all the impertinence

I have suffered to-day.

Ph.I am, sir; I came to make the confession;But if you know it already, why do you spite your son?I have been your guest to-day, & if I have overstrainedThe liberty of the feast, I am ready in turn to payThe penalty. In the name of Bacchus, disown and cast off me,Disinherit me if you will. But him, your flesh & blood,Pity and forgive.

Ph.I am, sir; I came to make the confession;

But if you know it already, why do you spite your son?

I have been your guest to-day, & if I have overstrained

The liberty of the feast, I am ready in turn to pay

The penalty. In the name of Bacchus, disown and cast off me,

Disinherit me if you will. But him, your flesh & blood,

Pity and forgive.

Men.Yes, Chremes.

ANTIPHILA.

O father, do give in!

1550Chr.Now that’s the first time, lass, you have called me father. I seeI shall have to yield.

Chr.Now that’s the first time, lass, you have called me father. I see

I shall have to yield.

Ant.O thank you.

Chr.Stay. If I do give in,’Tis only on two conditions.

Chr.Stay. If I do give in,

’Tis only on two conditions.

Men.I’ll answer for Pamphilus,That he’ll accept them: what are they?

Men.I’ll answer for Pamphilus,

That he’ll accept them: what are they?

Chr.First, my forty pounds;To get that back from Gorgo.

Chr.First, my forty pounds;

To get that back from Gorgo.

Pam.I can’t do that.

Chr.You can’t?

Men.You spent that money, Chremes, advanced it rather for me,Thinking to do me a service. I’ll ask you let it be meWho does it for you. I’ll gladly pay it: it is not lost.Consider this condition fulfilled.

Men.You spent that money, Chremes, advanced it rather for me,

Thinking to do me a service. I’ll ask you let it be me

Who does it for you. I’ll gladly pay it: it is not lost.

Consider this condition fulfilled.

Chr.You are kinder farTo my boy than he has deserved.

Chr.You are kinder far

To my boy than he has deserved.

Men.And what is the other matter?

Chr.This. He must marry.

Pam.Father!

1560Chr.I will not hear a word.

Chr.I will not hear a word.

Men.I’ll vouch for him that he will do it.

Chr.He does not say so himself.

Pam.No use,—impossible.

Sost.Can you hesitate, Pamphilus?

Chr.Nay, let him do as he likes.

Men.He’ll do it—everything.

Sost.This must seem strange at first & disagreeable,Before you have even thought of it. When you know more of it,You’ll like it.

Sost.This must seem strange at first & disagreeable,

Before you have even thought of it. When you know more of it,

You’ll like it.

Pam.I will, father.

Chr.Good! son: for though a wifeIs an evil, she is a necessary evil, and one to whichYou will get accustomed in time. ’Tis more respectable tooTo be married; and the only cure for a temper such as yours.

Chr.Good! son: for though a wife

Is an evil, she is a necessary evil, and one to which

You will get accustomed in time. ’Tis more respectable too

To be married; and the only cure for a temper such as yours.

Sost.I’ll help you choose, my dear Pamphilus; I know who—1570That clever, charming girl, whom you’ll be in love with directly;The orphan niece of our old neighbour, Phanocrates.

Sost.I’ll help you choose, my dear Pamphilus; I know who—1570

That clever, charming girl, whom you’ll be in love with directly;

The orphan niece of our old neighbour, Phanocrates.

Pam.What, not that red-haired thing, with a mouth from ear to ear,And a little knob of a nose. I couldn’t.

Pam.What, not that red-haired thing, with a mouth from ear to ear,

And a little knob of a nose. I couldn’t.

Chr.Why, only seeHow nice he has grown: it’s plain he means what he says now.

Chr.Why, only see

How nice he has grown: it’s plain he means what he says now.

Sost.Why, I’m sure, Pamphilus, she is a pinnacle of perfection.But I know another.

Sost.Why, I’m sure, Pamphilus, she is a pinnacle of perfection.

But I know another.

Pam.No, no; if I am to marry, be hanged!I’ll choose for myself. I know of a girl will do very well.

Pam.No, no; if I am to marry, be hanged!

I’ll choose for myself. I know of a girl will do very well.

Sost.Who is it?

Pam.Archonides’ daughter.

Sost.You cdnot have pleased me more.

Chr.My word! I do believe my wife & I are agreedOn something at last. O wonderful day!

Chr.My word! I do believe my wife & I are agreed

On something at last. O wonderful day!

1581Sost.Chremes, I knew’Twould end like this.

Sost.Chremes, I knew

’Twould end like this.

Chr.Now, wife! none of your prophecies.Come in, come all to dinner.

Chr.Now, wife! none of your prophecies.

Come in, come all to dinner.

Pam.Philolaches was asked;May he come too?

Pam.Philolaches was asked;

May he come too?

Chr.Oh yes! if it’s the Persian custom.I’ll bear no grudge to-day; come in, sir, with the rest,And help to make us merry. This isthe Feast of Bacchus.

Chr.Oh yes! if it’s the Persian custom.

I’ll bear no grudge to-day; come in, sir, with the rest,

And help to make us merry. This isthe Feast of Bacchus.

Back to Index Next