THE ANDRIAN.

THE ANDRIAN.PERSONS REPRESENTED.Prologue.Simo.Pamphilus.Chremes.Charinus.Crito.Sosia.Davus.Byrrhia.Dromo.Servants, etc.Glycerium.Mysis.Lesbia.Archyllis.Scene, Athens.PROLOGUE.TheBard, when first he gave his mind to write,Thought it his only business, that his PlaysShould please the people: but it now falls out,He finds, much otherwise, and wastes, perforce,His time in writing Prologues; not to tellThe argument, but to refute the slandersBroach’d by the malice of an older Bard.And mark what vices he is charg’d withal!Menander wrote the Andrian and Perinthian:Know one, and you know both; in argumentLess diff’rent than in sentiment and style.What suited with the Andrian he confessesFrom the Perinthian he transferr’d, and us’dFor his: and this it is these sland’rers blame,Proving by deep and learned disputation,That Fables should not be confounded thus.That Fables should not be contaminated.Troth! all the knowledge is they nothing know:Who, blaming; him, blame Nævius, Plautus, Ennius,Whose great example is his precedent;Whose negligence he’d wish to emulateRather thantheirdark diligence. Henceforth,Let them, I give them warning, be at peace,And cease to rail, lest they be made to knowTheir own misdeeds. Be favorable! sitWith equal mind, and hear our play; that henceYe may conclude, what hope to entertain,The comedies he may hereafter writeShall merit approbation or contempt.ACT THE FIRST.SCENE I.Simo,Sosia, andServantswith Provisions.Simo.Carry those things in: go! (Ex.Servants.Sosia, come here;A word with you!Sosia.I understand: that theseBe ta’en due care of.Simo.Quite another thing.Sosia.What can my art do more for you?Simo.This businessNeeds not that art; but those good qualities,Which I have ever known abide in you,Fidelity and secrecy.Sosia.I waitYour pleasure.Simo.Since I bought you, from a boyHow just and mild a servitude you’ve pass’dWith me, you’re conscious: from a purchas’d slaveI made you free, because you serv’d me freely:The greatest recompense I could bestow.Sosia.I do remember.Simo.Nor do I repent.Sosia.If I have ever done, or now do aughtThat’s pleasing to you, Simo, I am glad,And thankful that you hold my service goodAnd yet this troubles me: for this detail,Forcing your kindness on my memory,Seems to reproach me of ingratitude.Oh tell me then at once, what would you? Sir!Simo.I will; and this I must advise you first;The nuptial you suppose preparing now,Is all unreal.Sosia.Why pretend it then?Simo.You shall hear all from first to last: and thusThe conduct of my son, my own intent,And what part you’re to act, you’ll know at once.For my son, Sosia, now to manhood grown,Had freer scope of living: for beforeHow might you know, or how indeed divineHis disposition, good or ill, while youth,Fear, and a master, all constrain’d him?Sosia.True.Simo.Though most, as is the bent of youth, applyTheir mind to some one object, horses, hounds,Or to the study of philosophy;Yet none of these, beyond the rest, did hePursue; and yet, in moderation, all.I was o’erjoy’d.Sosia.And not without good cause.For this I hold to be the Golden RuleOf Life, too much of one thing’s good for nothing.Simo.So did he shape his life to bear himselfWith ease and frank good-humor unto all;Mix’d in what company soe’er, to themHe wholly did resign himself; compliedWith all their humours, checking nobody,He wholly did resign himself; and join’dIn their pursuits, opposing nobody,Nor e’er assuming to himself: and thusWith ease, and free from envy, may you gainPraise, and conciliate friends.Sosia.He rul’d his lifeBy prudent maxims: for, as times go now,Compliance raises friends, and truth breeds hate.Simo.Meanwhile, ’tis now about three years ago,A certain woman from the isle of Andros,Came o’er to settle in this neighborhood,By poverty and cruel kindred driv’n:Handsome and young.Sosia.Ah! I begin to fearSome mischief from this Andrian.Simo.At firstModest and thriftily, though poor, she liv’d,With her own hands a homely livelihoodScarce earning from the distaff and the loom.But when a lover came, with promis’d gold,Another, and another, as the mindFalls easily from labor to delight,She took their offers, and set up the trade.They, who were then her chief gallants, by chanceDrew thither, as oft happen with young menMy son to join their company.“So, so!”Said I within myself, “he’s smit! he has it!”And in the morning as I saw their servantsRun to and fro, I’d often call, “here, boy!Prithee now, who had Chrysis yesterday?”The name of this same Andrian.Sosia.I take you.Simo.Phædrus they said, Clinia, or Niceratus,For all these three then follow’d her.—“Well, well,But what of Pamphilus?”—“Of Pamphilus!He supp’d, and paid his reck’ning.”—I was glad.Another day I made the like inquiry,But still found nothing touching Pamphilus.Thus I believ’d his virtue prov’d, and henceThought him a miracle of continence:For he who struggles with such spirits, yetHolds in that commerce an unshaken mind,May well be trusted with the governanceOf his own conduct. Nor was I aloneDelighted with his life, but all the worldWith one accord said all good things, and prais’dMy happy fortunes, who possess’d a sonSo good, so lib’rally disposed.—In shortChremes, seduc’d by this fine character,Came of his own accord, to offer meHis only daughter with a handsome portionIn marriage with my son. I lik’d the match;Betroth’d my son; and this was pitch’d upon,By joint agreement, for the wedding-day.Sosia.And what prevents it’s being so?Simo.I’ll tell you.In a few days, the treaty still on foot,This neighbor Chrysis dies.Sosia.In happy hour:Happy for you! I was afraid of Chrysis.Simo.My son, on this event, was often thereWith those who were the late gallants of Chrysis;Assisted to prepare the funeral,Ever condol’d, and sometimes wept with them.This pleas’d me then; for in myself I thought,“Sincemerely for a small acquaintance-sakeHe takes this woman’s death so nearly, whatIf he himself had lov’d? What would he feelFor me, his father?” All these things, I thought;Were but the tokens and the officesOf a humane and tender disposition.In short, on his account, e’en I myselfAttend the funeral, suspecting yetNo harm.Sosia.And what——Simo.You shall hear all. The CorpseBorne forth, we follow: when among the womenAttending there, I chanc’d to cast my eyes,Upon one girl, in form——Sosia.Not bad, perhaps——Simo.And look; so modest, and so beauteous, Sosia!That nothing could exceed it. As she seem’dTo grieve beyond the rest; and as her airAppear’d more liberal and ingenuous,I went and ask’d her women who she was.Sister, they said, to Chrysis: when at onceIt struck my mind;“So!so! the secret’s out;Hence were those tears, and hence all that compassion!”Sosia.Alas! I fear how this affair will end!Simo.Meanwhile the funeral proceeds: we follow;Come to the sepulchre: the body’s plac’dUpon the pile, lamented: whereuponThis sister I was speaking of, all wild,Ran to the flames with peril of her life.Then! there! the frighted Pamphilus betraysHis well-dissembled and long-hidden love:Runs up, and takes her round the waist, and cries,“Oh my Glycerium! what is it you do?Why, why endeavor to destroy yourself?”Then she, in such a manner, that you thenceMight easily perceive their long, long, love,Threw herself back into his arms, and wept,Oh how familiarly!Sosia.How say you!Simo.IReturn in anger thence, and hurt at heart,Yet had no cause sufficient for reproof.“Whathave I done? he’d say; or how deserv’dReproach? or how offended, Father?—HerWho meant to cast herself into the flames,I stopped.” A fair excuse!Sosia.You’re in the right;For him, who sav’d a life, if you reprove,What will you do to him that offers wrong?Simo.Chremes next day came open-mouth’d to me:Oh monstrous! he had found that PamphilusWas married to this stranger woman. IDeny the fact most steadily, and heAs steadily insists. In short we partOn such bad terms, as let me understandHe would refuse his daughter.Sosia.Did not youThentake your son to task?Simo.Not even thisAppear’d sufficient for reproof.Sosia.How so?Simo.“Father,(he might have said) You have, you know,Prescrib’d a term to all these things yourself.The time is near at hand, when I must liveAccording to the humor of another.Meanwhile, permit me now to please my own!”Sosia.What cause remains to chide him then?Simo.If heRefuses, on account of this amour,To take a wife, such obstinate denialMust be considered as his first offense.Wherefore I now, from this mock-nuptial,Endeavor to draw real cause to chide:And that same rascal Davus, if he’s plotting,That he may let his counsel run to waste,Now, when his knaveries can do no harm:Who, I believe, with all his might and mainWill strive to cross my purposes; and thatMore to plague me, than to oblige my son.Sosia.Why so?Simo.Why so! Bad mind, bad heart: But ifI catch him at his tricks!—But what need words?—If, as I wish it may, it should appearThat Pamphilus objects not to the match,Chremes remains to be prevail’d upon,And will, I hope, consent. ’Tis now your placeTo counterfeit these nuptials cunningly;To frighten Davus; and observe my son,What he’s about, what plots they hatch together.Sosia.Enough; I’ll take due care. Let’s now go in!Simo.Go first: I’ll follow you.ExitSosia.Beyond all doubtMy son’s averse to take a wife: I sawHow frighten’d Davus was, but even now,When he was told a nuptial was preparing.But here he comes.SCENE II.EnterDavus.Davus.(to himself). I thought ’twere wonderfulIf this affair went off so easily;And dreaded where my master’s great good-humorWould end at last: who, after he perceiv’dThe Lady was refus’d, ne’er said a wordTo any of us, nor e’er took it ill.Simo.(behind). But now he will; to your cost too, I warrant you!Davus.This was his scheme; to lead us by the noseIn a false dream of joy; then all agapeWith hope, even then that we were most secure,To have o’erwhelm’d us, nor allow’d us timeTo have o’erwhelm’d us, nor have giv’n us timeTo cast about which way to break the match.Cunning old Gentleman!Simo.What says the rogue?Davus.My master and I did not see him!Simo.Davus!Davus.Well! what now? (Pretending not to see him.)Simo.Here! this way!Davus.What can he want? (To himself.)Simo.(overhearing). What say you?Davus.Upon what? Sir.Simo.Upon what!The world reports that my son keeps a mistress.Davus.Oh, to be sure, the world cares much for that.Simo.D’ye mind what I say? Sirrah!Davus.Nothing more, Sir.Simo.But for me now to dive into these mattersMay seem perhaps like too severe a father:For all his youthful pranks concern not me.While ’twas in season, he had my free leaveTo take his swing of pleasure. But to-dayBrings on another stage of life, and asksFor other manners: wherefore I desire,Or, if you please, I do beseech you,Davus,To set him right again.Davus.What means all this?Simo.All, who are fond of mistresses, dislikeThe thoughts of matrimony.Davus.So they say.Simo.And then, if such a person entertainsAn evil counselor in those affairs,He tampers with the mind, and makes bad worse.Davus.Troth, I don’t comprehend one word of this.Simo.No?Davus.No. I’m Davus, and not Oedipus.Simo.Then for the rest I have to say to you,You choose I should speak plainly.Davus.By all means.Simo.If I discover then, that in this matchYou get to your dog’s tricks to break it off,Or try to show how shrewd a rogue you are,I’ll have you beat to mummy, and then thrownIn prison, Sirrah! upon this condition,That when I take you out again, I swearTo grind there in your stead. D’ye take me now?Or don’t you understand this neither?Davus.Clearly.You have spoke out at last: the very thing!Quite plain and home; and nothing round about.Simo.I could excuse your tricks in any thing,Rather than this.Davus.Good words! I beg of you.Simo.You laugh at me: well, well!—I give you warningThat you do nothing rashly, nor pretendYou was not advertis’d of this—take heed!Exit.SCENE III.Davus.Troth Davus, ’tis high time to look about you;No room for sloth, as far as I can soundThe sentiments of our old gentlemanAbout this marriage, which if not fought off,And cunningly, spoils me, or my poor master.I know not what to do; nor can resolveTo help the son, or to obey the father.If I desert poor Pamphilus, alas!I tremble for his life; if I assist him,I dread his father’s threats: a shrewd old Cuff,Not easily deceiv’d. For first of all,He knows of this amour; and watches meWith jealous eyes, lest I devise some trickTo break the match. If he discovers it,Woe to poor Davus! nay, if he’s inclin’dTo punish me, he’ll seize on some pretenseTo throw me into prison, right or wrong.Another mischief too, to make bad worse,This Andrian, wife or mistress, is with childBy Pamphilus. And do but mark the heightOf their assurance! for ’tis certainlyAnother mischief is, this Andrian,Mistress or wife, ’s with child by Pamphilus.And do but mark their confidence! ’tis sureThe dotage of mad people, not of lovers.Whate’er she shall bring forth, they have resolv’dTo educate: and have among themselvesDevis’d the strangest story! that GlyceriumIs an Athenian citizen. “There wasOnce on a time a certain merchant, shipwreck’dUpon the isle of Andros; there he died:And Chrysis’ father took this orphan-wreck,Then but an infant, under his protection.”Ridiculous! ’tis all romance to me:And yet the story pleases them. And see!Mysis comes forth. But I must to the ForumTo look for Pamphilus, for fear his fatherShould find him first, and take him unawares.SCENE IV.EnterMysis. (Speaking to a servant within.)I hear, Archyllis; I hear what you say:You beg me to bring Lesbia. By my trothThat Lesbia is a drunken wretch, hot-headed,Nor worthy to be trusted with a womanIn her first labor. Well, well! she shall come.—Observe how earnest the old gossip is, (Coming forward)Because this Lesbia is her pot-companion.—Oh grant my mistress, Heav’n, a safe delivery,And let the midwife trespass any whereRather than here!—But what is it I see?Pamphilus all disorder’d: How I fearThe cause! I’ll wait a while, that I may knowIf this commotion means us any ill.SCENE V.Pamphilus,Mysisbehind.Pam.Is this well done? or like a man?—Is thisThe action of a father?Mysis.What’s the matter?Pam.Oh all ye pow’rs of heav’n and earth, what’s wrongIf this is not so?—If he was determin’dThat I to-day should marry, should I notHave had some previous notice?—ought not heTo have inform’d me of it long ago?Mysis.Alas! what’s this I hear?Pam.And Chremes too,Who had refus’d to trust me with his daughter,Changes his mind, because I change not mine.Can he then be so obstinately bentTo tear me from Glycerium? To lose herIs losing life.—Was ever man so cross’d,So curs’d as I?—Oh pow’rs of heav’n and earth!Can I by no means fly from this allianceWith Chremes’ family?—so oft contemn’dAnd held in scorn!—all done, concluded all!——Rejected, then recall’d:—and why?—unless,For so I must suspect, they breed some monster,Whom as they can obtrude on no one else,They bring to me.Mysis.Alas, alas! this speechHas struck me almost dead with fear.Pam.And thenMy father!—what to say of him?—Oh shame!A thing of so much consequence to treatSo negligently!—For but even nowPassing me in the forum,“Pamphilus!To-day’s your wedding-day, said he: prepare;Go, get you home!”—This sounded in my earsAs if he said, “go, hang yourself!”—I stoodConfounded. Think you I could speak one word?Or offer an excuse, how weak soe’er?No, I was dumb:—and had I been aware,Should any ask what I’d have done, I would,Rather than this, do any thing.—But nowWhat to resolve upon?—So many caresEntangle me at once, and rend my mind,Pulling it diff’rent ways. My love, compassion,This urgent match, my rev’rence for my father,Who yet has ever been so gentle to me,And held so slack a rein upon my pleasures.—And I oppose him?—Racking thought!—Ah me!I know not what to do.Mysis.Alas, I fearWhere this uncertainty will end. ’Twere bestHe should confer with her; or I at leastSpeak touching her to him. For while the mindHangs in suspense, a trifle turns the scale.Pam.Who’s there? what, Mysis! Save you!Mysis.Save you! Sir. (Coming forward.)Pam.How does she?Mysis.How! oppress’d with wretchedness.To-day supremely wretched, as to-dayWas formerly appointed for your wedding.And then she fears lest you desert her.Pam.I!Desert her? Can I think on’t? or deceiveA wretched maid! who trusted to my careHer life and honor. Her whom I have heldNear to my heart, and cherish’d as my wife?Or leave her modest and well nurtur’d mindThrough want to be corrupted? Never, never.Mysis.No doubt, did it depend on you alone;But if constrain’d——Pam.D’ye think me then so vile?Or so ungrateful, so inhuman, savage,Neither long intercourse, nor love, nor shame,Can move my soul, or make me keep my faith?Can make me keep my faith?Mysis.I only know, my mistress well deservesYou should remember her.Pam.Remember her?Oh Mysis, Mysis! even at this hour,Mysis.I only knowThat she deserves you should remember her.Pam.I should remember her? Oh, Mysis, Mysis!The words of Chrysis touching my GlyceriumAre written in my heart. On her death-bedShe call’d me. I approach’d her. You retir’d.We were alone; and Chrysis thus began:“MyPamphilus, you see the youth and beautyOf this unhappy maid: and well you know,These are but feeble guardians to preserveHer fortune or her fame. By this right handI do beseech you, by your better angel,By your tried faith, by her forlorn condition,I do conjure you, put her not away,Nor leave her to distress. If I have ever,As my own brother, lov’d you; or if sheHas ever held you dear ’bove all the world,And ever shown obedience to your will——I do bequeath you to her as a husband,Friend, Guardian, Father: all our little wealthTo you I leave, and trust it to your care.”——She join’d our hands, and died.—I did receive her,And once receiv’d will keep her.Mysis.So we trust.Pam.What make you from her?Mysis.Going for a midwife.Pam.Haste then! and hark, be sure take special heed,You mention not a word about the marriage,Lest this too give her pain.Mysis.I understand.ACT THE SECOND.SCENE I.Charinus,Byrrhia.Char.How, Byrrhia? Is she to be married, say you,To Pamphilus to-day?Byr.’Tis even so.Char.How do you know?Byr.I had it even nowFrom Davus at the Forum.Char.Woe is me!Then I’m a wretch indeed: till now my mindFloated ’twixt hope and fear: now, hope remov’d,Stunn’d, and o’erwhelm’d, it sinks beneath its cares.Byr.Nay, prithee master, since the thing you wishCan not be had, e’en wish for that which may!Char.I wish for nothing but Philumena.Byr.Ah, how much wiser were it, that you stroveTo quench this passion, than, with words like theseTo fan the fire, and blow it to a flame?Char.How readily do men at ease prescribeTo those who’re sick at heart! distress’d like me,You would not talk thus.Byr.Well, well, as you please.Char.Ha! I see Pamphilus. I can resolveOn any thing, e’er give up all for lost.Byr.What now?Char.I will entreat him, beg, beseech him,Tell him our course of love, and thus, perhaps,At least prevail upon him to deferHis marriage some few days: meanwhile, I hope,Something may happen.Byr.Aye, that something’s nothing.Char.Byrrhia, what think you? Shall I speak to him?Byr.Why not? for though you don’t obtain your suit,He will at least imagine you’re prepar’dTo cuckold him, in case he marries her.Char.Away, you hang-dog, with your base suspicions!SCENE II.EnterPamphilus.Pam.Charinus, save you!Char.Save you, Pamphilus!Imploring comfort, safety, help, and counsel,You see me now before you.Pam.Help, and counsel!I can afford you neither.—But what mean you?Pam.I do lackMyself both help and counsel—But what mean you?Char.Is this your wedding-day?Pam.Aye, so they say.Char.Ah, Pamphilus, if so, this dayYou see the last of me.Pam.How so?Char.Ah me!I dare not speak it: prithee tell him, Byrrhia.Byr.Aye, that I will.Pam.What is’t?Byr.He is in loveWith your bride, Sir.Pam.I’ faith so am not I.Tell me, Charinus, has aught further passed’Twixt you and her?Char.Ah, no, no.Pam.Would there had!Char.Now by our friendship, by my love I begYou would not marry her.——Pam.I will endeavor.Char.If that’s impossible, or if this matchBe grateful to your heart——Pam.My heart!Char.At leastDefer it some few days; while I depart,That I may not behold it.Pam.Hear, Charinus;It is, I think, scarce honesty in himTo look for thanks, who means no favor. IAbhor this marriage, more than you desire it.Char.You have reviv’d me.Pam.Now if you, or he,Your Byrrhia here, can do or think of aught;Act, plot, devise, invent, strive all you canTo make her yours; and I’ll do all I canThat she may not be mine.Char.Enough.Pam.I seeDavus, and in good time: for he’ll adviseWhat’s best to do.Char.But you, you sorry rogue, (ToByrrhia)Can give me no advice, nor tell me aught,But what it is impertinent to know.Hence, Sirrah, get you gone!Byr.With all my heart.Exit.SCENE III.EnterDavushastily.Davus.Good Heav’ns, what news I bring! what joyful news!But where shall I find Pamphilus, to driveHis fears away, and make him full of joy?Char.There’s something pleases him.Pam.No matter what.He has not heard of our ill fortune yet.Davus.And he, I warrant, if he has been toldOf his intended wedding——Char.Do you hear?Davus.Poor soul, is running all about the townIn quest of me. But whither shall I go?Or which way run?Char.Why don’t you speak to him?Davus.I’ll go.Pam.Ho! Davus! Stop, come here!Davus.Who calls?O, Pamphilus! the very man.—Heyday!Charinus too!—Both gentlemen, well met!I’ve news for both.Pam.I’m ruin’d, Davus.Davus.Hear me!Pam.Undone!Davus.I know your fears.Char.My life’s at stake.Davus.Yours I know also.Pam.Matrimony mine.Davus.I know it.Pam.But to-day.Davus.You stun me; plague!I tell you I know ev’ry thing: you fear (ToCharinus.)You shouldnotmarry her.—You fear youshould.(ToPam.)Char.The very thing.Pam.The same.Davus.And yet thatsameIs nothing. Mark!Pam.Nay, rid me of my fear.Davus.I will then. Chremes don’t intend his daughterShall marry you to-day.Pam.No! How d’ye know?Davus.I will then. ChremesWon’t give his daughter to you.Pam.How d’ye know?Davus.I’m sure of it. Your Father but just nowTakes me aside, and tells me ’twas his willThat you should wed to-day; with much beside,Which now I have not leisure to repeat.I, on the instant, hastening to find you,Run to the Forum to inform you of it:There, failing, climb an eminence, look round:No Pamphilus: I light by chance on Byrrhia;Inquire; he hadn’t seen you. Vex’d at heart,What’s to be done?thought I. Returning thenceA doubt arose within me. Ha! bad cheer,The old man melancholy, and a weddingClapp’d up so suddenly! This don’t agree.Pam.Well, what then?Davus.I betook me instantlyTo Chremes’ house; but thither when I came,Before the door all hush. This tickled me.Pam.You’re in the right. Proceed.Davus.I watch’d a while:Meantime no soul went in, no soul came out;No matron; in the house no ornament;No note of preparation. I approach’d,Look’d in——Pam.I understand: a potent sign!Davus.Does this seem like a nuptial?Pam.I think not,Davus.Davus.Think not, d’ye say? you don’t conceive:The thing is evident. I met beside,As I departed thence, with Chremes’ boy,Bearing some pot-herbs, and a pennyworthOf little fishes for the old man’s dinner.Char.I am deliver’d, Davus, by your means,From all my apprehensions of to-day.Davus.And yet you are undone.Char.How so? Since ChremesWill not consent to give PhilumenaTo Pamphilus.Davus.Ridiculous! As if,Because the daughter is denied to him,She must of course wed you. Look to it well;Court the old Gentleman through friends, apply,Or else——Char.You’re right: I will about it straight,Although that hope has often fail’d. Farewell.Exit.SCENE IV.Pamphilus.Davus.Pam.What means my father then? Why counterfeit?Davus.That I’ll explain. If he were angry now,Merely that Chremes has refus’d his daughter,He’d think himself in fault; and justly too,Before the bias of your mind is known.But granting you refuse her for a wife,Then all the blame devolves on you, and thenComes all the storm.Pam.What course then shall I take?Shall I submit——Davus.He is your Father, Sir,Whom to oppose were difficult; and thenGlycerium’s a lone woman; and he’ll findSome course, no matter what, to drive her hence.Pam.To drive her hence?Davus.Directly.Pam.Tell me then,Oh tell me, Davus, what were best to do?Davus.Say that you’ll marry!Pam.How!Davus.And where’s the harm?Pam.Say that I’ll marry!Davus.Why not?Pam.Never, never.Davus.Do not refuse!Pam.Persuade not!Davus.Do but markThe consequence.Pam.Divorcement from Glycerium.And marriage with the other.Davus.No such thing.Your father, I suppose, accosts you thus.I’d have you wed to-day;—I will, quoth you:What reason has he to reproach you then?Thus shall you baffle all his settled schemes,And put him to confusion; all the whileSecure yourself: for ’tis beyond a doubtThat Chremes will refuse his daughter to you;So obstinately too, you need not pause,Or change these measures, lest he change his mind;Say to your father then, that you will wed,That, with the will, he may want cause to chide.But if, deluded by fond hopes, you cry,“No one will wed their daughter to a rake,A libertine.”—Alas, you’re much deceiv’d.For know, your father will redeem some wretchFrom rags and beggary to be your wife,Rather than see your ruin with Glycerium.But if he thinks you bear an easy mind,He too will grow indiff’rent, and seek outAnother match at leisure; the mean whileAffairs may take a lucky turn.Pam.D’ye think so?Davus.Beyond all doubt.Pam.See, what you lead me to.Davus.Nay, peace!Pam.I’ll say so then. But have a careHe knows not of the child, which I’ve agreedTo educate.Davus.O confidence!Pam.She drewThis promise from me, as a firm assuranceThat I would not forsake her.Davus.We’ll take care.But here’s your father: let him not perceiveYou’re melancholy.SCENE V.EnterSimoat a distance.

Prologue.

Simo.

Pamphilus.

Chremes.

Charinus.

Crito.

Sosia.

Davus.

Byrrhia.

Dromo.

Servants, etc.

Glycerium.

Mysis.

Lesbia.

Archyllis.

Scene, Athens.

TheBard, when first he gave his mind to write,Thought it his only business, that his PlaysShould please the people: but it now falls out,He finds, much otherwise, and wastes, perforce,His time in writing Prologues; not to tellThe argument, but to refute the slandersBroach’d by the malice of an older Bard.And mark what vices he is charg’d withal!Menander wrote the Andrian and Perinthian:Know one, and you know both; in argumentLess diff’rent than in sentiment and style.What suited with the Andrian he confessesFrom the Perinthian he transferr’d, and us’dFor his: and this it is these sland’rers blame,Proving by deep and learned disputation,That Fables should not be confounded thus.That Fables should not be contaminated.Troth! all the knowledge is they nothing know:Who, blaming; him, blame Nævius, Plautus, Ennius,Whose great example is his precedent;Whose negligence he’d wish to emulateRather thantheirdark diligence. Henceforth,Let them, I give them warning, be at peace,And cease to rail, lest they be made to knowTheir own misdeeds. Be favorable! sitWith equal mind, and hear our play; that henceYe may conclude, what hope to entertain,The comedies he may hereafter writeShall merit approbation or contempt.

TheBard, when first he gave his mind to write,

Thought it his only business, that his Plays

Should please the people: but it now falls out,

He finds, much otherwise, and wastes, perforce,

His time in writing Prologues; not to tell

The argument, but to refute the slanders

Broach’d by the malice of an older Bard.

And mark what vices he is charg’d withal!

Menander wrote the Andrian and Perinthian:

Know one, and you know both; in argument

Less diff’rent than in sentiment and style.

What suited with the Andrian he confesses

From the Perinthian he transferr’d, and us’d

For his: and this it is these sland’rers blame,

Proving by deep and learned disputation,

That Fables should not be confounded thus.

That Fables should not be contaminated.

Troth! all the knowledge is they nothing know:

Who, blaming; him, blame Nævius, Plautus, Ennius,

Whose great example is his precedent;

Whose negligence he’d wish to emulate

Rather thantheirdark diligence. Henceforth,

Let them, I give them warning, be at peace,

And cease to rail, lest they be made to know

Their own misdeeds. Be favorable! sit

With equal mind, and hear our play; that hence

Ye may conclude, what hope to entertain,

The comedies he may hereafter write

Shall merit approbation or contempt.

Simo,Sosia, andServantswith Provisions.

Simo.Carry those things in: go! (Ex.Servants.Sosia, come here;A word with you!Sosia.I understand: that theseBe ta’en due care of.Simo.Quite another thing.Sosia.What can my art do more for you?Simo.This businessNeeds not that art; but those good qualities,Which I have ever known abide in you,Fidelity and secrecy.Sosia.I waitYour pleasure.Simo.Since I bought you, from a boyHow just and mild a servitude you’ve pass’dWith me, you’re conscious: from a purchas’d slaveI made you free, because you serv’d me freely:The greatest recompense I could bestow.Sosia.I do remember.Simo.Nor do I repent.Sosia.If I have ever done, or now do aughtThat’s pleasing to you, Simo, I am glad,And thankful that you hold my service goodAnd yet this troubles me: for this detail,Forcing your kindness on my memory,Seems to reproach me of ingratitude.Oh tell me then at once, what would you? Sir!Simo.I will; and this I must advise you first;The nuptial you suppose preparing now,Is all unreal.Sosia.Why pretend it then?Simo.You shall hear all from first to last: and thusThe conduct of my son, my own intent,And what part you’re to act, you’ll know at once.For my son, Sosia, now to manhood grown,Had freer scope of living: for beforeHow might you know, or how indeed divineHis disposition, good or ill, while youth,Fear, and a master, all constrain’d him?Sosia.True.Simo.Though most, as is the bent of youth, applyTheir mind to some one object, horses, hounds,Or to the study of philosophy;Yet none of these, beyond the rest, did hePursue; and yet, in moderation, all.I was o’erjoy’d.Sosia.And not without good cause.For this I hold to be the Golden RuleOf Life, too much of one thing’s good for nothing.Simo.So did he shape his life to bear himselfWith ease and frank good-humor unto all;Mix’d in what company soe’er, to themHe wholly did resign himself; compliedWith all their humours, checking nobody,He wholly did resign himself; and join’dIn their pursuits, opposing nobody,Nor e’er assuming to himself: and thusWith ease, and free from envy, may you gainPraise, and conciliate friends.Sosia.He rul’d his lifeBy prudent maxims: for, as times go now,Compliance raises friends, and truth breeds hate.Simo.Meanwhile, ’tis now about three years ago,A certain woman from the isle of Andros,Came o’er to settle in this neighborhood,By poverty and cruel kindred driv’n:Handsome and young.Sosia.Ah! I begin to fearSome mischief from this Andrian.Simo.At firstModest and thriftily, though poor, she liv’d,With her own hands a homely livelihoodScarce earning from the distaff and the loom.But when a lover came, with promis’d gold,Another, and another, as the mindFalls easily from labor to delight,She took their offers, and set up the trade.They, who were then her chief gallants, by chanceDrew thither, as oft happen with young menMy son to join their company.“So, so!”Said I within myself, “he’s smit! he has it!”And in the morning as I saw their servantsRun to and fro, I’d often call, “here, boy!Prithee now, who had Chrysis yesterday?”The name of this same Andrian.Sosia.I take you.Simo.Phædrus they said, Clinia, or Niceratus,For all these three then follow’d her.—“Well, well,But what of Pamphilus?”—“Of Pamphilus!He supp’d, and paid his reck’ning.”—I was glad.Another day I made the like inquiry,But still found nothing touching Pamphilus.Thus I believ’d his virtue prov’d, and henceThought him a miracle of continence:For he who struggles with such spirits, yetHolds in that commerce an unshaken mind,May well be trusted with the governanceOf his own conduct. Nor was I aloneDelighted with his life, but all the worldWith one accord said all good things, and prais’dMy happy fortunes, who possess’d a sonSo good, so lib’rally disposed.—In shortChremes, seduc’d by this fine character,Came of his own accord, to offer meHis only daughter with a handsome portionIn marriage with my son. I lik’d the match;Betroth’d my son; and this was pitch’d upon,By joint agreement, for the wedding-day.Sosia.And what prevents it’s being so?Simo.I’ll tell you.In a few days, the treaty still on foot,This neighbor Chrysis dies.Sosia.In happy hour:Happy for you! I was afraid of Chrysis.Simo.My son, on this event, was often thereWith those who were the late gallants of Chrysis;Assisted to prepare the funeral,Ever condol’d, and sometimes wept with them.This pleas’d me then; for in myself I thought,“Sincemerely for a small acquaintance-sakeHe takes this woman’s death so nearly, whatIf he himself had lov’d? What would he feelFor me, his father?” All these things, I thought;Were but the tokens and the officesOf a humane and tender disposition.In short, on his account, e’en I myselfAttend the funeral, suspecting yetNo harm.Sosia.And what——Simo.You shall hear all. The CorpseBorne forth, we follow: when among the womenAttending there, I chanc’d to cast my eyes,Upon one girl, in form——Sosia.Not bad, perhaps——Simo.And look; so modest, and so beauteous, Sosia!That nothing could exceed it. As she seem’dTo grieve beyond the rest; and as her airAppear’d more liberal and ingenuous,I went and ask’d her women who she was.Sister, they said, to Chrysis: when at onceIt struck my mind;“So!so! the secret’s out;Hence were those tears, and hence all that compassion!”Sosia.Alas! I fear how this affair will end!Simo.Meanwhile the funeral proceeds: we follow;Come to the sepulchre: the body’s plac’dUpon the pile, lamented: whereuponThis sister I was speaking of, all wild,Ran to the flames with peril of her life.Then! there! the frighted Pamphilus betraysHis well-dissembled and long-hidden love:Runs up, and takes her round the waist, and cries,“Oh my Glycerium! what is it you do?Why, why endeavor to destroy yourself?”Then she, in such a manner, that you thenceMight easily perceive their long, long, love,Threw herself back into his arms, and wept,Oh how familiarly!Sosia.How say you!Simo.IReturn in anger thence, and hurt at heart,Yet had no cause sufficient for reproof.“Whathave I done? he’d say; or how deserv’dReproach? or how offended, Father?—HerWho meant to cast herself into the flames,I stopped.” A fair excuse!Sosia.You’re in the right;For him, who sav’d a life, if you reprove,What will you do to him that offers wrong?Simo.Chremes next day came open-mouth’d to me:Oh monstrous! he had found that PamphilusWas married to this stranger woman. IDeny the fact most steadily, and heAs steadily insists. In short we partOn such bad terms, as let me understandHe would refuse his daughter.Sosia.Did not youThentake your son to task?Simo.Not even thisAppear’d sufficient for reproof.Sosia.How so?Simo.“Father,(he might have said) You have, you know,Prescrib’d a term to all these things yourself.The time is near at hand, when I must liveAccording to the humor of another.Meanwhile, permit me now to please my own!”Sosia.What cause remains to chide him then?Simo.If heRefuses, on account of this amour,To take a wife, such obstinate denialMust be considered as his first offense.Wherefore I now, from this mock-nuptial,Endeavor to draw real cause to chide:And that same rascal Davus, if he’s plotting,That he may let his counsel run to waste,Now, when his knaveries can do no harm:Who, I believe, with all his might and mainWill strive to cross my purposes; and thatMore to plague me, than to oblige my son.Sosia.Why so?Simo.Why so! Bad mind, bad heart: But ifI catch him at his tricks!—But what need words?—If, as I wish it may, it should appearThat Pamphilus objects not to the match,Chremes remains to be prevail’d upon,And will, I hope, consent. ’Tis now your placeTo counterfeit these nuptials cunningly;To frighten Davus; and observe my son,What he’s about, what plots they hatch together.Sosia.Enough; I’ll take due care. Let’s now go in!Simo.Go first: I’ll follow you.ExitSosia.Beyond all doubtMy son’s averse to take a wife: I sawHow frighten’d Davus was, but even now,When he was told a nuptial was preparing.But here he comes.

Simo.Carry those things in: go! (Ex.Servants.

Sosia, come here;

A word with you!

Sosia.I understand: that these

Be ta’en due care of.

Simo.Quite another thing.

Sosia.What can my art do more for you?

Simo.This business

Needs not that art; but those good qualities,

Which I have ever known abide in you,

Fidelity and secrecy.

Sosia.I wait

Your pleasure.

Simo.Since I bought you, from a boy

How just and mild a servitude you’ve pass’d

With me, you’re conscious: from a purchas’d slave

I made you free, because you serv’d me freely:

The greatest recompense I could bestow.

Sosia.I do remember.

Simo.Nor do I repent.

Sosia.If I have ever done, or now do aught

That’s pleasing to you, Simo, I am glad,

And thankful that you hold my service good

And yet this troubles me: for this detail,

Forcing your kindness on my memory,

Seems to reproach me of ingratitude.

Oh tell me then at once, what would you? Sir!

Simo.I will; and this I must advise you first;

The nuptial you suppose preparing now,

Is all unreal.

Sosia.Why pretend it then?

Simo.You shall hear all from first to last: and thus

The conduct of my son, my own intent,

And what part you’re to act, you’ll know at once.

For my son, Sosia, now to manhood grown,

Had freer scope of living: for before

How might you know, or how indeed divine

His disposition, good or ill, while youth,

Fear, and a master, all constrain’d him?

Sosia.True.

Simo.Though most, as is the bent of youth, apply

Their mind to some one object, horses, hounds,

Or to the study of philosophy;

Yet none of these, beyond the rest, did he

Pursue; and yet, in moderation, all.

I was o’erjoy’d.

Sosia.And not without good cause.

For this I hold to be the Golden Rule

Of Life, too much of one thing’s good for nothing.

Simo.So did he shape his life to bear himselfWith ease and frank good-humor unto all;Mix’d in what company soe’er, to themHe wholly did resign himself; compliedWith all their humours, checking nobody,He wholly did resign himself; and join’dIn their pursuits, opposing nobody,Nor e’er assuming to himself: and thusWith ease, and free from envy, may you gainPraise, and conciliate friends.

Simo.So did he shape his life to bear himself

With ease and frank good-humor unto all;

Mix’d in what company soe’er, to them

He wholly did resign himself; compliedWith all their humours, checking nobody,

He wholly did resign himself; complied

With all their humours, checking nobody,

He wholly did resign himself; and join’d

In their pursuits, opposing nobody,

Nor e’er assuming to himself: and thus

With ease, and free from envy, may you gain

Praise, and conciliate friends.

Sosia.He rul’d his life

By prudent maxims: for, as times go now,

Compliance raises friends, and truth breeds hate.

Simo.Meanwhile, ’tis now about three years ago,

A certain woman from the isle of Andros,

Came o’er to settle in this neighborhood,

By poverty and cruel kindred driv’n:

Handsome and young.

Sosia.Ah! I begin to fear

Some mischief from this Andrian.

Simo.At first

Modest and thriftily, though poor, she liv’d,

With her own hands a homely livelihood

Scarce earning from the distaff and the loom.

But when a lover came, with promis’d gold,

Another, and another, as the mind

Falls easily from labor to delight,

She took their offers, and set up the trade.

They, who were then her chief gallants, by chance

Drew thither, as oft happen with young men

My son to join their company.“So, so!”

Said I within myself, “he’s smit! he has it!”

And in the morning as I saw their servants

Run to and fro, I’d often call, “here, boy!

Prithee now, who had Chrysis yesterday?”

The name of this same Andrian.

Sosia.I take you.

Simo.Phædrus they said, Clinia, or Niceratus,

For all these three then follow’d her.—“Well, well,

But what of Pamphilus?”—“Of Pamphilus!

He supp’d, and paid his reck’ning.”—I was glad.

Another day I made the like inquiry,

But still found nothing touching Pamphilus.

Thus I believ’d his virtue prov’d, and hence

Thought him a miracle of continence:

For he who struggles with such spirits, yet

Holds in that commerce an unshaken mind,

May well be trusted with the governance

Of his own conduct. Nor was I alone

Delighted with his life, but all the world

With one accord said all good things, and prais’d

My happy fortunes, who possess’d a son

So good, so lib’rally disposed.—In short

Chremes, seduc’d by this fine character,

Came of his own accord, to offer me

His only daughter with a handsome portion

In marriage with my son. I lik’d the match;

Betroth’d my son; and this was pitch’d upon,

By joint agreement, for the wedding-day.

Sosia.And what prevents it’s being so?

Simo.I’ll tell you.

In a few days, the treaty still on foot,

This neighbor Chrysis dies.

Sosia.In happy hour:

Happy for you! I was afraid of Chrysis.

Simo.My son, on this event, was often there

With those who were the late gallants of Chrysis;

Assisted to prepare the funeral,

Ever condol’d, and sometimes wept with them.

This pleas’d me then; for in myself I thought,

“Sincemerely for a small acquaintance-sake

He takes this woman’s death so nearly, what

If he himself had lov’d? What would he feel

For me, his father?” All these things, I thought;

Were but the tokens and the offices

Of a humane and tender disposition.

In short, on his account, e’en I myself

Attend the funeral, suspecting yet

No harm.

Sosia.And what——

Simo.You shall hear all. The Corpse

Borne forth, we follow: when among the women

Attending there, I chanc’d to cast my eyes,

Upon one girl, in form——

Sosia.Not bad, perhaps——

Simo.And look; so modest, and so beauteous, Sosia!

That nothing could exceed it. As she seem’d

To grieve beyond the rest; and as her air

Appear’d more liberal and ingenuous,

I went and ask’d her women who she was.

Sister, they said, to Chrysis: when at once

It struck my mind;“So!so! the secret’s out;

Hence were those tears, and hence all that compassion!”

Sosia.Alas! I fear how this affair will end!

Simo.Meanwhile the funeral proceeds: we follow;

Come to the sepulchre: the body’s plac’d

Upon the pile, lamented: whereupon

This sister I was speaking of, all wild,

Ran to the flames with peril of her life.

Then! there! the frighted Pamphilus betrays

His well-dissembled and long-hidden love:

Runs up, and takes her round the waist, and cries,

“Oh my Glycerium! what is it you do?

Why, why endeavor to destroy yourself?”

Then she, in such a manner, that you thence

Might easily perceive their long, long, love,

Threw herself back into his arms, and wept,

Oh how familiarly!

Sosia.How say you!

Simo.I

Return in anger thence, and hurt at heart,

Yet had no cause sufficient for reproof.

“Whathave I done? he’d say; or how deserv’d

Reproach? or how offended, Father?—Her

Who meant to cast herself into the flames,

I stopped.” A fair excuse!

Sosia.You’re in the right;

For him, who sav’d a life, if you reprove,

What will you do to him that offers wrong?

Simo.Chremes next day came open-mouth’d to me:

Oh monstrous! he had found that Pamphilus

Was married to this stranger woman. I

Deny the fact most steadily, and he

As steadily insists. In short we part

On such bad terms, as let me understand

He would refuse his daughter.

Sosia.Did not you

Thentake your son to task?

Simo.Not even this

Appear’d sufficient for reproof.

Sosia.How so?

Simo.“Father,(he might have said) You have, you know,

Prescrib’d a term to all these things yourself.

The time is near at hand, when I must live

According to the humor of another.

Meanwhile, permit me now to please my own!”

Sosia.What cause remains to chide him then?

Simo.If he

Refuses, on account of this amour,

To take a wife, such obstinate denial

Must be considered as his first offense.

Wherefore I now, from this mock-nuptial,

Endeavor to draw real cause to chide:

And that same rascal Davus, if he’s plotting,

That he may let his counsel run to waste,

Now, when his knaveries can do no harm:

Who, I believe, with all his might and main

Will strive to cross my purposes; and that

More to plague me, than to oblige my son.

Sosia.Why so?

Simo.Why so! Bad mind, bad heart: But if

I catch him at his tricks!—But what need words?

—If, as I wish it may, it should appear

That Pamphilus objects not to the match,

Chremes remains to be prevail’d upon,

And will, I hope, consent. ’Tis now your place

To counterfeit these nuptials cunningly;

To frighten Davus; and observe my son,

What he’s about, what plots they hatch together.

Sosia.Enough; I’ll take due care. Let’s now go in!

Simo.Go first: I’ll follow you.

ExitSosia.

Beyond all doubt

My son’s averse to take a wife: I saw

How frighten’d Davus was, but even now,

When he was told a nuptial was preparing.

But here he comes.

EnterDavus.

Davus.(to himself). I thought ’twere wonderfulIf this affair went off so easily;And dreaded where my master’s great good-humorWould end at last: who, after he perceiv’dThe Lady was refus’d, ne’er said a wordTo any of us, nor e’er took it ill.Simo.(behind). But now he will; to your cost too, I warrant you!Davus.This was his scheme; to lead us by the noseIn a false dream of joy; then all agapeWith hope, even then that we were most secure,To have o’erwhelm’d us, nor allow’d us timeTo have o’erwhelm’d us, nor have giv’n us timeTo cast about which way to break the match.Cunning old Gentleman!Simo.What says the rogue?Davus.My master and I did not see him!Simo.Davus!Davus.Well! what now? (Pretending not to see him.)Simo.Here! this way!Davus.What can he want? (To himself.)Simo.(overhearing). What say you?Davus.Upon what? Sir.Simo.Upon what!The world reports that my son keeps a mistress.Davus.Oh, to be sure, the world cares much for that.Simo.D’ye mind what I say? Sirrah!Davus.Nothing more, Sir.Simo.But for me now to dive into these mattersMay seem perhaps like too severe a father:For all his youthful pranks concern not me.While ’twas in season, he had my free leaveTo take his swing of pleasure. But to-dayBrings on another stage of life, and asksFor other manners: wherefore I desire,Or, if you please, I do beseech you,Davus,To set him right again.Davus.What means all this?Simo.All, who are fond of mistresses, dislikeThe thoughts of matrimony.Davus.So they say.Simo.And then, if such a person entertainsAn evil counselor in those affairs,He tampers with the mind, and makes bad worse.Davus.Troth, I don’t comprehend one word of this.Simo.No?Davus.No. I’m Davus, and not Oedipus.Simo.Then for the rest I have to say to you,You choose I should speak plainly.Davus.By all means.Simo.If I discover then, that in this matchYou get to your dog’s tricks to break it off,Or try to show how shrewd a rogue you are,I’ll have you beat to mummy, and then thrownIn prison, Sirrah! upon this condition,That when I take you out again, I swearTo grind there in your stead. D’ye take me now?Or don’t you understand this neither?Davus.Clearly.You have spoke out at last: the very thing!Quite plain and home; and nothing round about.Simo.I could excuse your tricks in any thing,Rather than this.Davus.Good words! I beg of you.Simo.You laugh at me: well, well!—I give you warningThat you do nothing rashly, nor pretendYou was not advertis’d of this—take heed!Exit.

Davus.(to himself). I thought ’twere wonderful

If this affair went off so easily;

And dreaded where my master’s great good-humor

Would end at last: who, after he perceiv’d

The Lady was refus’d, ne’er said a word

To any of us, nor e’er took it ill.

Simo.(behind). But now he will; to your cost too, I warrant you!

Davus.This was his scheme; to lead us by the noseIn a false dream of joy; then all agapeWith hope, even then that we were most secure,To have o’erwhelm’d us, nor allow’d us timeTo have o’erwhelm’d us, nor have giv’n us timeTo cast about which way to break the match.Cunning old Gentleman!

Davus.This was his scheme; to lead us by the nose

In a false dream of joy; then all agape

With hope, even then that we were most secure,

To have o’erwhelm’d us, nor allow’d us time

To have o’erwhelm’d us, nor have giv’n us time

To cast about which way to break the match.

Cunning old Gentleman!

Simo.What says the rogue?

Davus.My master and I did not see him!

Simo.Davus!

Davus.Well! what now? (Pretending not to see him.)

Simo.Here! this way!

Davus.What can he want? (To himself.)

Simo.(overhearing). What say you?

Davus.Upon what? Sir.

Simo.Upon what!

The world reports that my son keeps a mistress.

Davus.Oh, to be sure, the world cares much for that.

Simo.D’ye mind what I say? Sirrah!

Davus.Nothing more, Sir.

Simo.But for me now to dive into these matters

May seem perhaps like too severe a father:

For all his youthful pranks concern not me.

While ’twas in season, he had my free leave

To take his swing of pleasure. But to-day

Brings on another stage of life, and asks

For other manners: wherefore I desire,

Or, if you please, I do beseech you,Davus,

To set him right again.

Davus.What means all this?

Simo.All, who are fond of mistresses, dislike

The thoughts of matrimony.

Davus.So they say.

Simo.And then, if such a person entertains

An evil counselor in those affairs,

He tampers with the mind, and makes bad worse.

Davus.Troth, I don’t comprehend one word of this.

Simo.No?

Davus.No. I’m Davus, and not Oedipus.

Simo.Then for the rest I have to say to you,

You choose I should speak plainly.

Davus.By all means.

Simo.If I discover then, that in this match

You get to your dog’s tricks to break it off,

Or try to show how shrewd a rogue you are,

I’ll have you beat to mummy, and then thrown

In prison, Sirrah! upon this condition,

That when I take you out again, I swear

To grind there in your stead. D’ye take me now?

Or don’t you understand this neither?

Davus.Clearly.

You have spoke out at last: the very thing!

Quite plain and home; and nothing round about.

Simo.I could excuse your tricks in any thing,

Rather than this.

Davus.Good words! I beg of you.

Simo.You laugh at me: well, well!—I give you warning

That you do nothing rashly, nor pretend

You was not advertis’d of this—take heed!

Exit.

Davus.

Troth Davus, ’tis high time to look about you;No room for sloth, as far as I can soundThe sentiments of our old gentlemanAbout this marriage, which if not fought off,And cunningly, spoils me, or my poor master.I know not what to do; nor can resolveTo help the son, or to obey the father.If I desert poor Pamphilus, alas!I tremble for his life; if I assist him,I dread his father’s threats: a shrewd old Cuff,Not easily deceiv’d. For first of all,He knows of this amour; and watches meWith jealous eyes, lest I devise some trickTo break the match. If he discovers it,Woe to poor Davus! nay, if he’s inclin’dTo punish me, he’ll seize on some pretenseTo throw me into prison, right or wrong.Another mischief too, to make bad worse,This Andrian, wife or mistress, is with childBy Pamphilus. And do but mark the heightOf their assurance! for ’tis certainlyAnother mischief is, this Andrian,Mistress or wife, ’s with child by Pamphilus.And do but mark their confidence! ’tis sureThe dotage of mad people, not of lovers.Whate’er she shall bring forth, they have resolv’dTo educate: and have among themselvesDevis’d the strangest story! that GlyceriumIs an Athenian citizen. “There wasOnce on a time a certain merchant, shipwreck’dUpon the isle of Andros; there he died:And Chrysis’ father took this orphan-wreck,Then but an infant, under his protection.”Ridiculous! ’tis all romance to me:And yet the story pleases them. And see!Mysis comes forth. But I must to the ForumTo look for Pamphilus, for fear his fatherShould find him first, and take him unawares.

Troth Davus, ’tis high time to look about you;

No room for sloth, as far as I can sound

The sentiments of our old gentleman

About this marriage, which if not fought off,

And cunningly, spoils me, or my poor master.

I know not what to do; nor can resolve

To help the son, or to obey the father.

If I desert poor Pamphilus, alas!

I tremble for his life; if I assist him,

I dread his father’s threats: a shrewd old Cuff,

Not easily deceiv’d. For first of all,

He knows of this amour; and watches me

With jealous eyes, lest I devise some trick

To break the match. If he discovers it,

Woe to poor Davus! nay, if he’s inclin’d

To punish me, he’ll seize on some pretense

To throw me into prison, right or wrong.

Another mischief too, to make bad worse,This Andrian, wife or mistress, is with childBy Pamphilus. And do but mark the heightOf their assurance! for ’tis certainly

Another mischief too, to make bad worse,

This Andrian, wife or mistress, is with child

By Pamphilus. And do but mark the height

Of their assurance! for ’tis certainly

Another mischief is, this Andrian,

Mistress or wife, ’s with child by Pamphilus.

And do but mark their confidence! ’tis sure

The dotage of mad people, not of lovers.

Whate’er she shall bring forth, they have resolv’d

To educate: and have among themselves

Devis’d the strangest story! that Glycerium

Is an Athenian citizen. “There was

Once on a time a certain merchant, shipwreck’d

Upon the isle of Andros; there he died:

And Chrysis’ father took this orphan-wreck,

Then but an infant, under his protection.”

Ridiculous! ’tis all romance to me:

And yet the story pleases them. And see!

Mysis comes forth. But I must to the Forum

To look for Pamphilus, for fear his father

Should find him first, and take him unawares.

EnterMysis. (Speaking to a servant within.)

I hear, Archyllis; I hear what you say:You beg me to bring Lesbia. By my trothThat Lesbia is a drunken wretch, hot-headed,Nor worthy to be trusted with a womanIn her first labor. Well, well! she shall come.—Observe how earnest the old gossip is, (Coming forward)Because this Lesbia is her pot-companion.—Oh grant my mistress, Heav’n, a safe delivery,And let the midwife trespass any whereRather than here!—But what is it I see?Pamphilus all disorder’d: How I fearThe cause! I’ll wait a while, that I may knowIf this commotion means us any ill.

I hear, Archyllis; I hear what you say:

You beg me to bring Lesbia. By my troth

That Lesbia is a drunken wretch, hot-headed,

Nor worthy to be trusted with a woman

In her first labor. Well, well! she shall come.

—Observe how earnest the old gossip is, (Coming forward)

Because this Lesbia is her pot-companion.

—Oh grant my mistress, Heav’n, a safe delivery,

And let the midwife trespass any where

Rather than here!—But what is it I see?

Pamphilus all disorder’d: How I fear

The cause! I’ll wait a while, that I may know

If this commotion means us any ill.

Pamphilus,Mysisbehind.

Pam.Is this well done? or like a man?—Is thisThe action of a father?Mysis.What’s the matter?Pam.Oh all ye pow’rs of heav’n and earth, what’s wrongIf this is not so?—If he was determin’dThat I to-day should marry, should I notHave had some previous notice?—ought not heTo have inform’d me of it long ago?Mysis.Alas! what’s this I hear?Pam.And Chremes too,Who had refus’d to trust me with his daughter,Changes his mind, because I change not mine.Can he then be so obstinately bentTo tear me from Glycerium? To lose herIs losing life.—Was ever man so cross’d,So curs’d as I?—Oh pow’rs of heav’n and earth!Can I by no means fly from this allianceWith Chremes’ family?—so oft contemn’dAnd held in scorn!—all done, concluded all!——Rejected, then recall’d:—and why?—unless,For so I must suspect, they breed some monster,Whom as they can obtrude on no one else,They bring to me.Mysis.Alas, alas! this speechHas struck me almost dead with fear.Pam.And thenMy father!—what to say of him?—Oh shame!A thing of so much consequence to treatSo negligently!—For but even nowPassing me in the forum,“Pamphilus!To-day’s your wedding-day, said he: prepare;Go, get you home!”—This sounded in my earsAs if he said, “go, hang yourself!”—I stoodConfounded. Think you I could speak one word?Or offer an excuse, how weak soe’er?No, I was dumb:—and had I been aware,Should any ask what I’d have done, I would,Rather than this, do any thing.—But nowWhat to resolve upon?—So many caresEntangle me at once, and rend my mind,Pulling it diff’rent ways. My love, compassion,This urgent match, my rev’rence for my father,Who yet has ever been so gentle to me,And held so slack a rein upon my pleasures.—And I oppose him?—Racking thought!—Ah me!I know not what to do.Mysis.Alas, I fearWhere this uncertainty will end. ’Twere bestHe should confer with her; or I at leastSpeak touching her to him. For while the mindHangs in suspense, a trifle turns the scale.Pam.Who’s there? what, Mysis! Save you!Mysis.Save you! Sir. (Coming forward.)Pam.How does she?Mysis.How! oppress’d with wretchedness.To-day supremely wretched, as to-dayWas formerly appointed for your wedding.And then she fears lest you desert her.Pam.I!Desert her? Can I think on’t? or deceiveA wretched maid! who trusted to my careHer life and honor. Her whom I have heldNear to my heart, and cherish’d as my wife?Or leave her modest and well nurtur’d mindThrough want to be corrupted? Never, never.Mysis.No doubt, did it depend on you alone;But if constrain’d——Pam.D’ye think me then so vile?Or so ungrateful, so inhuman, savage,Neither long intercourse, nor love, nor shame,Can move my soul, or make me keep my faith?Can make me keep my faith?Mysis.I only know, my mistress well deservesYou should remember her.Pam.Remember her?Oh Mysis, Mysis! even at this hour,Mysis.I only knowThat she deserves you should remember her.Pam.I should remember her? Oh, Mysis, Mysis!The words of Chrysis touching my GlyceriumAre written in my heart. On her death-bedShe call’d me. I approach’d her. You retir’d.We were alone; and Chrysis thus began:“MyPamphilus, you see the youth and beautyOf this unhappy maid: and well you know,These are but feeble guardians to preserveHer fortune or her fame. By this right handI do beseech you, by your better angel,By your tried faith, by her forlorn condition,I do conjure you, put her not away,Nor leave her to distress. If I have ever,As my own brother, lov’d you; or if sheHas ever held you dear ’bove all the world,And ever shown obedience to your will——I do bequeath you to her as a husband,Friend, Guardian, Father: all our little wealthTo you I leave, and trust it to your care.”——She join’d our hands, and died.—I did receive her,And once receiv’d will keep her.Mysis.So we trust.Pam.What make you from her?Mysis.Going for a midwife.Pam.Haste then! and hark, be sure take special heed,You mention not a word about the marriage,Lest this too give her pain.Mysis.I understand.

Pam.Is this well done? or like a man?—Is this

The action of a father?

Mysis.What’s the matter?

Pam.Oh all ye pow’rs of heav’n and earth, what’s wrong

If this is not so?—If he was determin’d

That I to-day should marry, should I not

Have had some previous notice?—ought not he

To have inform’d me of it long ago?

Mysis.Alas! what’s this I hear?

Pam.And Chremes too,

Who had refus’d to trust me with his daughter,

Changes his mind, because I change not mine.

Can he then be so obstinately bent

To tear me from Glycerium? To lose her

Is losing life.—Was ever man so cross’d,

So curs’d as I?—Oh pow’rs of heav’n and earth!

Can I by no means fly from this alliance

With Chremes’ family?—so oft contemn’d

And held in scorn!—all done, concluded all!——

Rejected, then recall’d:—and why?—unless,

For so I must suspect, they breed some monster,

Whom as they can obtrude on no one else,

They bring to me.

Mysis.Alas, alas! this speech

Has struck me almost dead with fear.

Pam.And then

My father!—what to say of him?—Oh shame!

A thing of so much consequence to treat

So negligently!—For but even now

Passing me in the forum,“Pamphilus!

To-day’s your wedding-day, said he: prepare;

Go, get you home!”—This sounded in my ears

As if he said, “go, hang yourself!”—I stood

Confounded. Think you I could speak one word?

Or offer an excuse, how weak soe’er?

No, I was dumb:—and had I been aware,

Should any ask what I’d have done, I would,

Rather than this, do any thing.—But now

What to resolve upon?—So many cares

Entangle me at once, and rend my mind,

Pulling it diff’rent ways. My love, compassion,

This urgent match, my rev’rence for my father,

Who yet has ever been so gentle to me,

And held so slack a rein upon my pleasures.

—And I oppose him?—Racking thought!—Ah me!

I know not what to do.

Mysis.Alas, I fear

Where this uncertainty will end. ’Twere best

He should confer with her; or I at least

Speak touching her to him. For while the mind

Hangs in suspense, a trifle turns the scale.

Pam.Who’s there? what, Mysis! Save you!

Mysis.Save you! Sir. (Coming forward.)

Pam.How does she?

Mysis.How! oppress’d with wretchedness.

To-day supremely wretched, as to-day

Was formerly appointed for your wedding.

And then she fears lest you desert her.

Pam.I!

Desert her? Can I think on’t? or deceive

A wretched maid! who trusted to my care

Her life and honor. Her whom I have held

Near to my heart, and cherish’d as my wife?

Or leave her modest and well nurtur’d mind

Through want to be corrupted? Never, never.

Mysis.No doubt, did it depend on you alone;

But if constrain’d——

Pam.D’ye think me then so vile?Or so ungrateful, so inhuman, savage,Neither long intercourse, nor love, nor shame,Can move my soul, or make me keep my faith?Can make me keep my faith?Mysis.I only know, my mistress well deservesYou should remember her.Pam.Remember her?Oh Mysis, Mysis! even at this hour,Mysis.I only knowThat she deserves you should remember her.Pam.I should remember her? Oh, Mysis, Mysis!The words of Chrysis touching my GlyceriumAre written in my heart. On her death-bedShe call’d me. I approach’d her. You retir’d.We were alone; and Chrysis thus began:“MyPamphilus, you see the youth and beautyOf this unhappy maid: and well you know,These are but feeble guardians to preserveHer fortune or her fame. By this right handI do beseech you, by your better angel,By your tried faith, by her forlorn condition,I do conjure you, put her not away,Nor leave her to distress. If I have ever,As my own brother, lov’d you; or if sheHas ever held you dear ’bove all the world,And ever shown obedience to your will——I do bequeath you to her as a husband,Friend, Guardian, Father: all our little wealthTo you I leave, and trust it to your care.”——She join’d our hands, and died.—I did receive her,And once receiv’d will keep her.

Pam.D’ye think me then so vile?

Or so ungrateful, so inhuman, savage,

Neither long intercourse, nor love, nor shame,

Can move my soul, or make me keep my faith?

Can make me keep my faith?

Mysis.I only know, my mistress well deservesYou should remember her.Pam.Remember her?Oh Mysis, Mysis! even at this hour,

Mysis.I only know, my mistress well deserves

You should remember her.

Pam.Remember her?

Oh Mysis, Mysis! even at this hour,

Mysis.I only know

That she deserves you should remember her.

Pam.I should remember her? Oh, Mysis, Mysis!

The words of Chrysis touching my Glycerium

Are written in my heart. On her death-bed

She call’d me. I approach’d her. You retir’d.

We were alone; and Chrysis thus began:

“MyPamphilus, you see the youth and beauty

Of this unhappy maid: and well you know,

These are but feeble guardians to preserve

Her fortune or her fame. By this right hand

I do beseech you, by your better angel,

By your tried faith, by her forlorn condition,

I do conjure you, put her not away,

Nor leave her to distress. If I have ever,

As my own brother, lov’d you; or if she

Has ever held you dear ’bove all the world,

And ever shown obedience to your will——

I do bequeath you to her as a husband,

Friend, Guardian, Father: all our little wealth

To you I leave, and trust it to your care.”——

She join’d our hands, and died.—I did receive her,

And once receiv’d will keep her.

Mysis.So we trust.

Pam.What make you from her?

Mysis.Going for a midwife.

Pam.Haste then! and hark, be sure take special heed,

You mention not a word about the marriage,

Lest this too give her pain.

Mysis.I understand.

Charinus,Byrrhia.

Char.How, Byrrhia? Is she to be married, say you,To Pamphilus to-day?Byr.’Tis even so.Char.How do you know?Byr.I had it even nowFrom Davus at the Forum.Char.Woe is me!Then I’m a wretch indeed: till now my mindFloated ’twixt hope and fear: now, hope remov’d,Stunn’d, and o’erwhelm’d, it sinks beneath its cares.Byr.Nay, prithee master, since the thing you wishCan not be had, e’en wish for that which may!Char.I wish for nothing but Philumena.Byr.Ah, how much wiser were it, that you stroveTo quench this passion, than, with words like theseTo fan the fire, and blow it to a flame?Char.How readily do men at ease prescribeTo those who’re sick at heart! distress’d like me,You would not talk thus.Byr.Well, well, as you please.Char.Ha! I see Pamphilus. I can resolveOn any thing, e’er give up all for lost.Byr.What now?Char.I will entreat him, beg, beseech him,Tell him our course of love, and thus, perhaps,At least prevail upon him to deferHis marriage some few days: meanwhile, I hope,Something may happen.Byr.Aye, that something’s nothing.Char.Byrrhia, what think you? Shall I speak to him?Byr.Why not? for though you don’t obtain your suit,He will at least imagine you’re prepar’dTo cuckold him, in case he marries her.Char.Away, you hang-dog, with your base suspicions!

Char.How, Byrrhia? Is she to be married, say you,

To Pamphilus to-day?

Byr.’Tis even so.

Char.How do you know?

Byr.I had it even now

From Davus at the Forum.

Char.Woe is me!

Then I’m a wretch indeed: till now my mind

Floated ’twixt hope and fear: now, hope remov’d,

Stunn’d, and o’erwhelm’d, it sinks beneath its cares.

Byr.Nay, prithee master, since the thing you wish

Can not be had, e’en wish for that which may!

Char.I wish for nothing but Philumena.

Byr.Ah, how much wiser were it, that you strove

To quench this passion, than, with words like these

To fan the fire, and blow it to a flame?

Char.How readily do men at ease prescribe

To those who’re sick at heart! distress’d like me,

You would not talk thus.

Byr.Well, well, as you please.

Char.Ha! I see Pamphilus. I can resolve

On any thing, e’er give up all for lost.

Byr.What now?

Char.I will entreat him, beg, beseech him,

Tell him our course of love, and thus, perhaps,

At least prevail upon him to defer

His marriage some few days: meanwhile, I hope,

Something may happen.

Byr.Aye, that something’s nothing.

Char.Byrrhia, what think you? Shall I speak to him?

Byr.Why not? for though you don’t obtain your suit,

He will at least imagine you’re prepar’d

To cuckold him, in case he marries her.

Char.Away, you hang-dog, with your base suspicions!

EnterPamphilus.

Pam.Charinus, save you!Char.Save you, Pamphilus!Imploring comfort, safety, help, and counsel,You see me now before you.Pam.Help, and counsel!I can afford you neither.—But what mean you?Pam.I do lackMyself both help and counsel—But what mean you?Char.Is this your wedding-day?Pam.Aye, so they say.Char.Ah, Pamphilus, if so, this dayYou see the last of me.Pam.How so?Char.Ah me!I dare not speak it: prithee tell him, Byrrhia.Byr.Aye, that I will.Pam.What is’t?Byr.He is in loveWith your bride, Sir.Pam.I’ faith so am not I.Tell me, Charinus, has aught further passed’Twixt you and her?Char.Ah, no, no.Pam.Would there had!Char.Now by our friendship, by my love I begYou would not marry her.——Pam.I will endeavor.Char.If that’s impossible, or if this matchBe grateful to your heart——Pam.My heart!Char.At leastDefer it some few days; while I depart,That I may not behold it.Pam.Hear, Charinus;It is, I think, scarce honesty in himTo look for thanks, who means no favor. IAbhor this marriage, more than you desire it.Char.You have reviv’d me.Pam.Now if you, or he,Your Byrrhia here, can do or think of aught;Act, plot, devise, invent, strive all you canTo make her yours; and I’ll do all I canThat she may not be mine.Char.Enough.Pam.I seeDavus, and in good time: for he’ll adviseWhat’s best to do.Char.But you, you sorry rogue, (ToByrrhia)Can give me no advice, nor tell me aught,But what it is impertinent to know.Hence, Sirrah, get you gone!Byr.With all my heart.Exit.

Pam.Charinus, save you!Char.Save you, Pamphilus!Imploring comfort, safety, help, and counsel,You see me now before you.Pam.Help, and counsel!I can afford you neither.—But what mean you?Pam.I do lackMyself both help and counsel—But what mean you?Char.Is this your wedding-day?Pam.Aye, so they say.

Pam.Charinus, save you!

Char.Save you, Pamphilus!

Imploring comfort, safety, help, and counsel,

You see me now before you.

Pam.Help, and counsel!I can afford you neither.—But what mean you?

Pam.Help, and counsel!

I can afford you neither.—But what mean you?

Pam.I do lack

Myself both help and counsel—But what mean you?

Char.Is this your wedding-day?

Pam.Aye, so they say.

Char.Ah, Pamphilus, if so, this day

You see the last of me.

Pam.How so?

Char.Ah me!

I dare not speak it: prithee tell him, Byrrhia.

Byr.Aye, that I will.

Pam.What is’t?

Byr.He is in love

With your bride, Sir.

Pam.I’ faith so am not I.

Tell me, Charinus, has aught further passed

’Twixt you and her?

Char.Ah, no, no.

Pam.Would there had!

Char.Now by our friendship, by my love I beg

You would not marry her.——

Pam.I will endeavor.

Char.If that’s impossible, or if this match

Be grateful to your heart——

Pam.My heart!

Char.At least

Defer it some few days; while I depart,

That I may not behold it.

Pam.Hear, Charinus;

It is, I think, scarce honesty in him

To look for thanks, who means no favor. I

Abhor this marriage, more than you desire it.

Char.You have reviv’d me.

Pam.Now if you, or he,

Your Byrrhia here, can do or think of aught;

Act, plot, devise, invent, strive all you can

To make her yours; and I’ll do all I can

That she may not be mine.

Char.Enough.

Pam.I see

Davus, and in good time: for he’ll advise

What’s best to do.

Char.But you, you sorry rogue, (ToByrrhia)

Can give me no advice, nor tell me aught,

But what it is impertinent to know.

Hence, Sirrah, get you gone!

Byr.With all my heart.

Exit.

EnterDavushastily.

Davus.Good Heav’ns, what news I bring! what joyful news!But where shall I find Pamphilus, to driveHis fears away, and make him full of joy?Char.There’s something pleases him.Pam.No matter what.He has not heard of our ill fortune yet.Davus.And he, I warrant, if he has been toldOf his intended wedding——Char.Do you hear?Davus.Poor soul, is running all about the townIn quest of me. But whither shall I go?Or which way run?Char.Why don’t you speak to him?Davus.I’ll go.Pam.Ho! Davus! Stop, come here!Davus.Who calls?O, Pamphilus! the very man.—Heyday!Charinus too!—Both gentlemen, well met!I’ve news for both.Pam.I’m ruin’d, Davus.Davus.Hear me!Pam.Undone!Davus.I know your fears.Char.My life’s at stake.Davus.Yours I know also.Pam.Matrimony mine.Davus.I know it.Pam.But to-day.Davus.You stun me; plague!I tell you I know ev’ry thing: you fear (ToCharinus.)You shouldnotmarry her.—You fear youshould.(ToPam.)Char.The very thing.Pam.The same.Davus.And yet thatsameIs nothing. Mark!Pam.Nay, rid me of my fear.Davus.I will then. Chremes don’t intend his daughterShall marry you to-day.Pam.No! How d’ye know?Davus.I will then. ChremesWon’t give his daughter to you.Pam.How d’ye know?Davus.I’m sure of it. Your Father but just nowTakes me aside, and tells me ’twas his willThat you should wed to-day; with much beside,Which now I have not leisure to repeat.I, on the instant, hastening to find you,Run to the Forum to inform you of it:There, failing, climb an eminence, look round:No Pamphilus: I light by chance on Byrrhia;Inquire; he hadn’t seen you. Vex’d at heart,What’s to be done?thought I. Returning thenceA doubt arose within me. Ha! bad cheer,The old man melancholy, and a weddingClapp’d up so suddenly! This don’t agree.Pam.Well, what then?Davus.I betook me instantlyTo Chremes’ house; but thither when I came,Before the door all hush. This tickled me.Pam.You’re in the right. Proceed.Davus.I watch’d a while:Meantime no soul went in, no soul came out;No matron; in the house no ornament;No note of preparation. I approach’d,Look’d in——Pam.I understand: a potent sign!Davus.Does this seem like a nuptial?Pam.I think not,Davus.Davus.Think not, d’ye say? you don’t conceive:The thing is evident. I met beside,As I departed thence, with Chremes’ boy,Bearing some pot-herbs, and a pennyworthOf little fishes for the old man’s dinner.Char.I am deliver’d, Davus, by your means,From all my apprehensions of to-day.Davus.And yet you are undone.Char.How so? Since ChremesWill not consent to give PhilumenaTo Pamphilus.Davus.Ridiculous! As if,Because the daughter is denied to him,She must of course wed you. Look to it well;Court the old Gentleman through friends, apply,Or else——Char.You’re right: I will about it straight,Although that hope has often fail’d. Farewell.Exit.

Davus.Good Heav’ns, what news I bring! what joyful news!

But where shall I find Pamphilus, to drive

His fears away, and make him full of joy?

Char.There’s something pleases him.

Pam.No matter what.

He has not heard of our ill fortune yet.

Davus.And he, I warrant, if he has been told

Of his intended wedding——

Char.Do you hear?

Davus.Poor soul, is running all about the town

In quest of me. But whither shall I go?

Or which way run?

Char.Why don’t you speak to him?

Davus.I’ll go.

Pam.Ho! Davus! Stop, come here!

Davus.Who calls?

O, Pamphilus! the very man.—Heyday!

Charinus too!—Both gentlemen, well met!

I’ve news for both.

Pam.I’m ruin’d, Davus.

Davus.Hear me!

Pam.Undone!

Davus.I know your fears.

Char.My life’s at stake.

Davus.Yours I know also.

Pam.Matrimony mine.

Davus.I know it.

Pam.But to-day.

Davus.You stun me; plague!

I tell you I know ev’ry thing: you fear (ToCharinus.)

You shouldnotmarry her.—You fear youshould.(ToPam.)

Char.The very thing.

Pam.The same.

Davus.And yet thatsameIs nothing. Mark!Pam.Nay, rid me of my fear.Davus.I will then. Chremes don’t intend his daughterShall marry you to-day.Pam.No! How d’ye know?Davus.I will then. ChremesWon’t give his daughter to you.Pam.How d’ye know?

Davus.And yet thatsame

Is nothing. Mark!

Pam.Nay, rid me of my fear.

Davus.I will then. Chremes don’t intend his daughterShall marry you to-day.Pam.No! How d’ye know?

Davus.I will then. Chremes don’t intend his daughter

Shall marry you to-day.

Pam.No! How d’ye know?

Davus.I will then. Chremes

Won’t give his daughter to you.

Pam.How d’ye know?

Davus.I’m sure of it. Your Father but just now

Takes me aside, and tells me ’twas his will

That you should wed to-day; with much beside,

Which now I have not leisure to repeat.

I, on the instant, hastening to find you,

Run to the Forum to inform you of it:

There, failing, climb an eminence, look round:

No Pamphilus: I light by chance on Byrrhia;

Inquire; he hadn’t seen you. Vex’d at heart,

What’s to be done?thought I. Returning thence

A doubt arose within me. Ha! bad cheer,

The old man melancholy, and a wedding

Clapp’d up so suddenly! This don’t agree.

Pam.Well, what then?

Davus.I betook me instantly

To Chremes’ house; but thither when I came,

Before the door all hush. This tickled me.

Pam.You’re in the right. Proceed.

Davus.I watch’d a while:

Meantime no soul went in, no soul came out;

No matron; in the house no ornament;

No note of preparation. I approach’d,

Look’d in——

Pam.I understand: a potent sign!

Davus.Does this seem like a nuptial?

Pam.I think not,

Davus.

Davus.Think not, d’ye say? you don’t conceive:

The thing is evident. I met beside,

As I departed thence, with Chremes’ boy,

Bearing some pot-herbs, and a pennyworth

Of little fishes for the old man’s dinner.

Char.I am deliver’d, Davus, by your means,

From all my apprehensions of to-day.

Davus.And yet you are undone.

Char.How so? Since Chremes

Will not consent to give Philumena

To Pamphilus.

Davus.Ridiculous! As if,

Because the daughter is denied to him,

She must of course wed you. Look to it well;

Court the old Gentleman through friends, apply,

Or else——

Char.You’re right: I will about it straight,

Although that hope has often fail’d. Farewell.

Exit.

Pamphilus.Davus.

Pam.What means my father then? Why counterfeit?Davus.That I’ll explain. If he were angry now,Merely that Chremes has refus’d his daughter,He’d think himself in fault; and justly too,Before the bias of your mind is known.But granting you refuse her for a wife,Then all the blame devolves on you, and thenComes all the storm.Pam.What course then shall I take?Shall I submit——Davus.He is your Father, Sir,Whom to oppose were difficult; and thenGlycerium’s a lone woman; and he’ll findSome course, no matter what, to drive her hence.Pam.To drive her hence?Davus.Directly.Pam.Tell me then,Oh tell me, Davus, what were best to do?Davus.Say that you’ll marry!Pam.How!Davus.And where’s the harm?Pam.Say that I’ll marry!Davus.Why not?Pam.Never, never.Davus.Do not refuse!Pam.Persuade not!Davus.Do but markThe consequence.Pam.Divorcement from Glycerium.And marriage with the other.Davus.No such thing.Your father, I suppose, accosts you thus.I’d have you wed to-day;—I will, quoth you:What reason has he to reproach you then?Thus shall you baffle all his settled schemes,And put him to confusion; all the whileSecure yourself: for ’tis beyond a doubtThat Chremes will refuse his daughter to you;So obstinately too, you need not pause,Or change these measures, lest he change his mind;Say to your father then, that you will wed,That, with the will, he may want cause to chide.But if, deluded by fond hopes, you cry,“No one will wed their daughter to a rake,A libertine.”—Alas, you’re much deceiv’d.For know, your father will redeem some wretchFrom rags and beggary to be your wife,Rather than see your ruin with Glycerium.But if he thinks you bear an easy mind,He too will grow indiff’rent, and seek outAnother match at leisure; the mean whileAffairs may take a lucky turn.Pam.D’ye think so?Davus.Beyond all doubt.Pam.See, what you lead me to.Davus.Nay, peace!Pam.I’ll say so then. But have a careHe knows not of the child, which I’ve agreedTo educate.Davus.O confidence!Pam.She drewThis promise from me, as a firm assuranceThat I would not forsake her.Davus.We’ll take care.But here’s your father: let him not perceiveYou’re melancholy.

Pam.What means my father then? Why counterfeit?

Davus.That I’ll explain. If he were angry now,

Merely that Chremes has refus’d his daughter,

He’d think himself in fault; and justly too,

Before the bias of your mind is known.

But granting you refuse her for a wife,

Then all the blame devolves on you, and then

Comes all the storm.

Pam.What course then shall I take?

Shall I submit——

Davus.He is your Father, Sir,

Whom to oppose were difficult; and then

Glycerium’s a lone woman; and he’ll find

Some course, no matter what, to drive her hence.

Pam.To drive her hence?

Davus.Directly.

Pam.Tell me then,

Oh tell me, Davus, what were best to do?

Davus.Say that you’ll marry!

Pam.How!

Davus.And where’s the harm?

Pam.Say that I’ll marry!

Davus.Why not?

Pam.Never, never.

Davus.Do not refuse!

Pam.Persuade not!

Davus.Do but mark

The consequence.

Pam.Divorcement from Glycerium.

And marriage with the other.

Davus.No such thing.

Your father, I suppose, accosts you thus.

I’d have you wed to-day;—I will, quoth you:

What reason has he to reproach you then?

Thus shall you baffle all his settled schemes,

And put him to confusion; all the while

Secure yourself: for ’tis beyond a doubt

That Chremes will refuse his daughter to you;

So obstinately too, you need not pause,

Or change these measures, lest he change his mind;

Say to your father then, that you will wed,

That, with the will, he may want cause to chide.

But if, deluded by fond hopes, you cry,

“No one will wed their daughter to a rake,

A libertine.”—Alas, you’re much deceiv’d.

For know, your father will redeem some wretch

From rags and beggary to be your wife,

Rather than see your ruin with Glycerium.

But if he thinks you bear an easy mind,

He too will grow indiff’rent, and seek out

Another match at leisure; the mean while

Affairs may take a lucky turn.

Pam.D’ye think so?

Davus.Beyond all doubt.

Pam.See, what you lead me to.

Davus.Nay, peace!

Pam.I’ll say so then. But have a care

He knows not of the child, which I’ve agreed

To educate.

Davus.O confidence!

Pam.She drew

This promise from me, as a firm assurance

That I would not forsake her.

Davus.We’ll take care.

But here’s your father: let him not perceive

You’re melancholy.

EnterSimoat a distance.


Back to IndexNext