This is a modern-English version of The Comedies of Terence: Literally Translated into English Prose, with Notes, originally written by Terence.
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συρίσκος
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συρίσκος
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This translation was published as part of a volume also containing the 1765 George Colman text. These are available as a separate e-text. For details on the Riley translation and its publishing history, including the source of the frontispiece, see the end of this file.
This translation was published as part of a volume that also includes the 1765 George Colman text. These are available as a separate e-text. For details on the Riley translation and its publishing history, including the source of the frontispiece, see the end of this file.
Italics in the translation indicate text added by the translator, not present in the Latin original.
Italics in the translation highlight text added by the translator that doesn’t appear in the original Latin.
THE
COMEDIES
OF
TERENCE.
LITERALLY TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE,
WITH NOTES.
By HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B.A.,
LATE SCHOLAR OF CLARE HALL, CAMBRIDGE.
TO WHICH IS ADDED
THE BLANK VERSE TRANSLATION OF
GEORGE COLMAN.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1896.
HARPER’S
NEW CLASSICAL LIBRARY.
COMPRISING LITERAL TRANSLATIONS OF
CÆSAR. VIRGIL. SALLUST. HORACE. TERENCE. TACITUS. 2 Vols. LIVY. 2 Vols. CICERO’S ORATIONS. CICERO’S OFFICES, LÆLIUS, CATO MAJOR, PARADOXES, SCIPIO’S DREAM, LETTER TO QUINTUS. CICERO’S OFFICES, LÆLIUS, CATO MAJOR, PARADOXES, SCIPIO’S DREAM, LETTER TO QUINTUS. CICERO ON ORATORY AND ORATORS. Cicero on Speaking and Speakers. |
CICERO’S TUSCULAN DISPUTATIONS, THE NATURE OF THE GODS, AND THE COMMONWEALTH. CICERO’S TUSCULAN DISPUTATIONS, THE NATURE OF THE GODS, AND THE COMMONWEALTH. XENOPHON. HOMER’S ILIAD. HOMER’S ODYSSEY. HERODOTUS. DEMOSTHENES. 2 Vols. THUCYDIDES. ÆSCHYLUS. SOPHOCLES. EURIPIDES. 2 Vols. |
PLATO (SELECT DIALOGUES). PLATO (SELECTED DIALOGUES). |
12mo, Cloth, $1.00 per Volume.
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PREFACE.
In this Version of the Plays of Terence the Text of Volbehr, 1846, has been followed, with the few exceptions mentioned in the Notes.
In this version of Terence's plays, we have followed the text from Volbehr, 1846, with a few exceptions noted in the notes.
The Translator has endeavored to convey faithfully the meaning of the author, and although not rigorously literal, he has, he trusts, avoided such wild departures from the text as are found in the versions of Echard, Cooke, Patrick, and Gordon.
The Translator has worked hard to accurately express the author's meaning, and although it's not strictly literal, he hopes he has steered clear of the significant departures from the text seen in the versions by Echard, Cooke, Patrick, and Gordon.
CONTENTS.
COMEDIES OF TERENCE: IN PROSE.
1 | |
63 | |
132 | |
197 | |
254 | |
301 |
About this Translation
The comedies of Terence, translated by Henry Thomas Riley (1816-1878, B.A. 1840, M.A. 1859), were originally published in 1853 as part of Bohn’s Classical Library.
The comedies of Terence, translated by Henry Thomas Riley (1816-1878, B.A. 1840, M.A. 1859), were first published in 1853 as part of Bohn’s Classical Library.
The series was later sold to Bell & Daldy, which became George Bell & sons; it is almost certain that the 1887 edition shown here was set from the original 1853 plates. The text appeared in an omnibus volume also containing two translations of the fables of Phaedrus: Riley’s own, and those of Christopher Smart (1765).
The series was later sold to Bell & Daldy, which became George Bell & Sons; it’s almost certain that the 1887 edition shown here was created from the original 1853 plates. The text appeared in a single volume that also included two translations of Phaedrus's fables: Riley’s own and those of Christopher Smart (1765).
The 1859 Harper’s edition—issued during Riley’s lifetime—omitted the Phaedrus translations. Instead it added George Colman’s translation of Terence, coincidentally also from 1765. Only the translations themselves were included, not the notes and commentary quoted by Riley in his own notes.
The 1859 Harper’s edition—released while Riley was still alive—left out the Phaedrus translations. Instead, it included George Colman’s translation of Terence, which also happened to be from 1765. Only the translations were featured, not the notes and commentary that Riley referenced in his own notes.
The Harper’s edition differs from Bell/Bohn in a few minor points of spelling and punctuation, but it is very nearly a typographic facsimile of the London original. Readers who are familiar with the American edition of Riley’s translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses should be reassured to learn that the present text seems to have been much more carefully composed and typeset.
The Harper’s edition differs from Bell/Bohn in a few small details of spelling and punctuation, but it’s almost an exact replica of the London original. Readers familiar with the American edition of Riley’s translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses should feel assured knowing that this text appears to have been much more carefully written and typeset.
London 1853/1887 London 1853/1887 |
New York 1859 New York, 1859 |
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Both title pages were wholly capitalized. In the transcription, lines printed in smaller type are shown as lower case. Both title pages were completely in uppercase. In the transcription, lines printed in smaller type are displayed in lowercase. |
|
The The And And |
The The Comedies of Terence. |
Literally Translated into English Prose, with Notes. Literally Translated into English Prose, with Notes. By HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B.A., By HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B.A., |
Literally Translated into English Prose, with Notes. Literally Translated into English Prose, with Notes. By HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B.A., By HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B.A., |
To Which is Added To Which is Added |
To Which is Added To Which is Added |
London: George Bell & Sons, York Street, London: George Bell & Sons, York Street, |
New York: New York: |
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This page from late in the volume shows how closely the New York edition followed the physical format of the London original. This page from later in the book shows how closely the New York edition matched the layout of the London original. |
The Frontispiece
The frontispiece shown at the beginning of this e-text is taken from the Bell/Bohn edition; it is absent from the New York edition. The New York edition also omitted all illustrations—including a similar frontispiece—from the Colman text.
The frontispiece displayed at the start of this e-text is sourced from the Bell/Bohn edition; it is not included in the New York edition. The New York edition also left out all illustrations—like a similar frontispiece—from the Colman text.
1
1
ANDRIA;
THE FAIR ANDREW.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Simo,1 an aged Athenian. Simo, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ an older Athenian. Pamphilus,2 son of Simo. Pamphilus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Simo. Sosia,3 freedman of Simo. Sosia, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ freedman of Simo. Chremes,4 an aged Athenian. Chremes, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ an elderly Athenian. Charinus,5 a young Athenian, in love with Philumena. Charinus,5 a young Athenian, in love with Philumena. Crito,6 a native of Andros. Crito, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ from Andros. Davus,7 servant of Simo. Davus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Simo's servant. Dromo,8 servant of Simo. Dromo, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ servant of Simo. Byrrhia,9 servant of Charinus. Byrrhia, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ servant of Charinus. |
Mysis,11 her maid-servant. Mysis, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ her maid. Lesbia,12 a midwife. Lesbia, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a doula. |
Scene.—Athens; before the houses of Simo and Glycerium.
Scene.—Athens; in front of the houses of Simo and Glycerium.
2
2
THE SUBJECT.
Chremes and Phania were brothers, citizens of Athens. Chremes going to Asia, leaves his daughter, Pasibula, in the care of his brother Phania, who, afterward setting sail with Pasibula for Asia, is wrecked off the Isle of Andros. Escaping with their lives, they are kindly received by a native of the island; and Phania soon afterward dies there. The Andrian changes the name of the girl to Glycerium, and brings her up, as his own child, with his daughter Chrysis. On his death, Chrysis and Glycerium sail for Athens to seek their fortune there. Chrysis being admired by several Athenian youths, Pamphilus, the son of Simo, an opulent citizen, chances to see Glycerium, and falls violently in love with her. She afterward becomes pregnant by him, on which he makes her a promise of marriage. In the mean time, Chremes, who is now living at Athens, and is ignorant of the fate of Pasibula, agrees with Simo, the father of Pamphilus, to give Philumena, another daughter, in marriage to Pamphilus. While these arrangements are being made, Chrysis dies; on which Simo accidentally discovers his son’s connection with Glycerium. Chremes, also coming to hear of it, declines the match, having no idea that Glycerium is really his own daughter. Simo, however, in order to test his son’s feelings, resolves to pretend that the marriage-day is fixed. Meeting Pamphilus in the town, he desires him to go home and prepare for the wedding, which is to take place immediately. In his perplexity, the youth has recourse to his servant Davus, who, having heard of the refusal of Chremes, suspects the design of Simo. At this conjuncture, Charinus, a friend of Pamphilus, who is enamored of Philumena, but has been rejected by her father, entreats Pamphilus to put off the marriage, for at least a few days. Disclosing his own aversion to the match, Pamphilus readily engages to do this. In order the more effectually to break it off, Davus advises Pamphilus to pretend a readiness to comply with his father’s wishes, supposing that of course Chremes will steadily persist in his refusal. Pamphilus does as he is advised, on which Simo again applies to Chremes, who, after some entreaty, gives his consent. Just at this conjuncture, Glycerium is delivered of a son; and by the advice of Davus, it is laid before the door of Simo’s house. Chremes happening to see it there, and ascertaining that Pamphilus is its father, again refuses to give him his daughter. At this moment, Crito, a native of Andros, arrives, who, being a relative of Chrysis, has come to Athens to look after her property. Through him, Chremes discovers that Glycerium is no other than his long-lost daughter, Pasibula; on which he consents to her immediate marriage with Pamphilus, who promises Charinus that he will use his best endeavors to obtain for him the hand of Philumena.
Chremes and Phania were brothers, citizens of Athens. Chremes goes to Asia, leaving his daughter, Pasibula, in the care of his brother Phania, who later sets sail with Pasibula for Asia but gets shipwrecked off the Isle of Andros. They escape with their lives and are kindly received by a local from the island; however, Phania soon dies there. The Andrian changes the girl's name to Glycerium and raises her like his own child alongside his daughter Chrysis. After his death, Chrysis and Glycerium sail to Athens to seek their fortunes. Several Athenian youths admire Chrysis, and Pamphilus, the son of Simo, a wealthy citizen, happens to see Glycerium and falls deeply in love with her. She eventually becomes pregnant by him, after which he promises to marry her. Meanwhile, Chremes, now living in Athens and unaware of Pasibula's fate, agrees with Simo, Pamphilus's father, to give his other daughter, Philumena, in marriage to Pamphilus. While these arrangements are happening, Chrysis dies, and Simo accidentally discovers his son's connection with Glycerium. Chremes also hears of this and declines the match, not knowing that Glycerium is actually his own daughter. However, Simo, wanting to test his son's feelings, decides to pretend that the wedding is on. He meets Pamphilus in town and tells him to go home and get ready for the wedding, which is happening soon. Confused, Pamphilus turns to his servant Davus, who, having heard about Chremes's refusal, suspects Simo's plan. At this point, Charinus, a friend of Pamphilus who is in love with Philumena but has been rejected by her father, asks Pamphilus to postpone the marriage for a few days. Pamphilus reveals his own dislike for the match and agrees to delay it. To effectively break it off, Davus suggests that Pamphilus pretend to be ready to comply with his father's wishes, assuming that Chremes will remain firm in his refusal. Pamphilus follows this advice, prompting Simo to approach Chremes again, who, after some persuasion, gives his consent. At this critical moment, Glycerium gives birth to a son, and on Davus's advice, the baby is placed at Simo's doorstep. When Chremes sees it there and realizes that Pamphilus is the father, he again refuses to let him marry his daughter. Just then, Crito, a local from Andros and a relative of Chrysis, arrives in Athens to manage her property. Through him, Chremes learns that Glycerium is actually his long-lost daughter, Pasibula; he then agrees to her immediate marriage with Pamphilus, who promises Charinus that he will do his best to win Philumena's hand for him.
3
3
THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Megalensian Games;13 M. Fulvius and M. Glabrio being Curule Æediles.14 Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius Prænestinus15 performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius,16 composed the music, to a pair of treble flutes and bass flutes17 alternately. And it is entirely 4 Grecian.18 Published—M. Marcellus and Cneius Sulpicius being Consuls.19
Completed at the Megalensian Games; M. Fulvius and M. Glabrio were the Curule Aediles. Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius Prænestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music, using a pair of treble flutes and bass flutes alternately. And it is entirely Grecian. 4 Published—M. Marcellus and Cneius Sulpicius were the Consuls.
5
5
ANDRIA;
THE FAIR ANDRIAN.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
Pamphilus seduces Glycerium, wrongfully supposed to be a sister of a Courtesan, an Andrian by birth; and she having become pregnant, he gives his word that she shall be his wife; but his father has engaged for him another, the daughter of Chremes; and when he discovers the intrigue he pretends that the nuptials are about to take place, desiring to learn what intentions his son may have. By the advice of Davus, Pamphilus does not resist; but Chremes, as soon as he has seen the little child born of Glycerium, breaks off the match, and declines him for a son-in-law. Afterward, this Glycerium, unexpectedly discovered to be his own daughter, he bestows as a wife on Pamphilus, the other on Charinus.
Pamphilus seduces Glycerium, who is wrongly thought to be the sister of a courtesan and is originally from Andros. After she becomes pregnant, he promises that she will be his wife; however, his father has arranged for him to marry someone else, the daughter of Chremes. When he finds out about the affair, he pretends that the marriage is about to happen, hoping to figure out what his son intends to do. Following Davus's advice, Pamphilus does not resist. But after Chremes sees the baby born to Glycerium, he breaks off the engagement and refuses to have Pamphilus as a son-in-law. Later, Glycerium is unexpectedly revealed to be his own daughter, and he gives her as a wife to Pamphilus, while his other daughter is given to Charinus.
THE PROLOGUE.
The poet, when first he applied his mind to writing, thought that the only duty which devolved on him was, that the Plays he should compose might please the public. But he perceives that it has fallen out entirely otherwise; for he is wasting his labor in writing Prologues, not for the purpose of relating the plot, but to answer the slanders of a malevolent old Poet.20 Now I beseech you, give your attention to the thing which they impute as a fault. Menander composed the Andrian21 6 and the Perinthian.22 He who knows either of them well, will know them both; they are in plot not very different, and yet they have been composed in different language and style. What suited, he confesses he has transferred into the Andrian from the Perinthian, and has employed them as his own. These parties censure this proceeding; and on this point they differ from him, that Plays ought not to be mixed up together. By being thus knowing, do they not show that they know nothing at all? For while they are censuring him, they are censuring Nævius, Plautus, and Ennius,23 whom our Poet has for his precedents; whose carelessness he prefers to emulate, rather than the mystifying carefulness24 of those parties. Therefore, I advise them to be quiet in future, and to cease to slander; that they may not be made acquainted with their own misdeeds. Be well disposed, then; attend with unbiased mind, and consider the matter, that you may determine what hope is left; whether the Plays which he shall in future compose anew, are to be witnessed, or are rather to be driven off the stage.
The poet, when he first started writing, thought his main responsibility was to make sure his Plays pleased the audience. But he realizes it’s turned out quite differently; he’s wasting his effort on writing Prologues, not to explain the story, but to respond to the insults of a spiteful old Poet.20 Now I ask you to pay attention to what they claim is a flaw. Menander wrote the Andrian21 and the Perinthian.22 Anyone who knows either play well will recognize both; they share a similar plot, yet are written in different language and style. He admits he has taken elements that worked in the Perinthian and used them in the Andrian as if they were his own. These critics disapprove of this approach; they argue that Plays should not be mixed together. By being so critical, don’t they actually reveal their own ignorance? While they criticize him, they’re also criticizing Nævius, Plautus, and Ennius,23 whom our Poet looks up to as examples; he prefers to imitate their relaxed style instead of the overly complicated meticulousness24 of those critics. So, I advise them to be silent from now on and stop spreading slander, so they won’t have to face their own wrongs. Stay open-minded, then; pay attention with an unbiased mindset, and reflect on the situation, so you can decide what hope remains; whether the Plays he will write in the future are worth watching, or if they should be removed from the stage.
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Simo and Sosia, followed by Servants carrying provisions.
Enter Simo and Sosia, followed by Servants with supplies.
Simo (to the Servants.) Do you carry those things away in-doors; begone. (Beckoning to Sosia.) Sosia, just step here; I want a few words with you.
Simo (to the Servants.) Take those things inside; go on. (Gesturing to Socia.) Sosia, come over here; I need to talk to you for a minute.
7
7
Sosia. Consider it as said; that these things are to be taken care of, I suppose.25
Sosia. Let's just say it’s understood that these things need to be handled, I guess.25
Sim. No, it’s another matter.
Sim. No, it's a different issue.
Sos. What is there that my ability can effect for you more than this?
SOS. What more can my skills do for you than this?
Sim. There’s no need of that ability in the matter which I have in hand; but of those qualities which I have ever known as existing in you, fidelity and secrecy.
Yes. That skill isn't necessary for what I'm dealing with right now; what I need are the qualities that I've always recognized in you: loyalty and discretion.
Sos. I await your will.
Sos. I'm waiting for your call.
Sim. Since I purchased you, you know that, from a little child, your servitude with me has always been easy and light. From a slave I made you my freedman;26 for this reason, because you served me with readiness. The greatest recompense that I possessed, I bestowed upon you.
Yeah. Since I bought you, you know that, since you were a child, your service with me has always been easy and light. I turned you from a slave into my freedman;26 for this reason, because you served me willingly. The greatest reward I had, I gave to you.
Sos. I bear it in mind.
Sos. I'll remember that.
Sim. I am not changed.
Sim. I haven't changed.
Sos. If I have done or am doing aught that is pleasing to you, Simo, I am glad that it has been done; and that the same has been gratifying to you, I consider sufficient thanks. But this is a cause of uneasiness to me; for the recital is, as it were, a censure27 to one forgetful of a kindness. But tell me, in one word, what it is that you want with me.
SOS. If I’ve done or am doing anything that makes you happy, Simo, I’m glad it happened; and if it has brought you joy, I see that as enough thanks. But this is bothering me because talking about it feels like a criticism to someone who has forgotten a kindness. But just tell me, in one word, what you need from me.
Sim. I’ll do so. In the first place, in this affair I give you notice: this, which you suppose to be such, is not a real marriage.
Yes. I’ll do that. First of all, I want to make it clear: what you think is a real marriage is not actually one.
Sos. Why do you pretend it then?
SOS. Why do you act like that?
Sim. You shall hear all the matter from the beginning; by that means you’ll be acquainted with both my son’s mode 8 of life and my own design, and what I want you to do in this affair. For after he had passed youthfulness,28 Sosia, and had obtained free scope of living, (for before, how could you know or understand his disposition, while youthful age, fear, and a master29 were checking him?)—
Yep. You’ll hear everything from the start; this way, you’ll understand both my son’s way of life and my plans, along with what I need you to do in this situation. Because after he grew out of his youth, Sosia, and gained the freedom to live as he wanted, (before this, how could you really know or understand his character when youthful age, fear, and a master29 were holding him back?)—
Sos. That’s true.
Sos. That's right.
Sim. What all young men, for the most part, do,—devote their attention to some particular pursuit, either to training horses or dogs for hunting, or to the philosophers;30 in not one of these did he engage in particular beyond the rest, and yet in all of them in a moderate degree. I was pleased.
Yes. What most young men do—focus on a specific interest, whether it's training horses or dogs for hunting, or studying philosophy;30 he didn't particularly dive into any of these more than the others, but he was involved in all of them to some extent. I was pleased.
Sos. Not without reason; for this I deem in life to be especially advantageous; that one do nothing to excess.31
Help. For good reason; I believe that in life, it's especially beneficial that one does nothing in excess.31
Sim. Such was his mode of life; readily to bear and to comply with all; with whomsoever he was in company, to them to resign himself; to devote himself to their pursuits; at variance with no one; never preferring himself to them. Thus most readily you may acquire praise without envy, and gain friends.
Yes. That was how he lived his life; he easily accepted and went along with everything. No matter who he was with, he let himself get absorbed into their interests; he didn't argue with anyone and never thought he was better than them. This way, you can earn respect without jealousy and make friends easily.
Sos. He has wisely laid down his rule of life; for in these days obsequiousness begets friends; sincerity, dislike.
SOS. He has smartly established his principles for living; nowadays, being overly compliant creates friendships, while being genuine leads to dislike.
Sim. Meanwhile, three years ago,32 a certain woman from 9 Andros removed hither into this neighborhood, driven by poverty and the neglect of her relations, of surpassing beauty and in the bloom of youth.
Yep. Meanwhile, three years ago,32 a certain woman from 9 Andros moved into this area, forced by hardship and the indifference of her family, incredibly beautiful and in the prime of her youth.
Sos. Ah! I’m afraid that this Andrian will bring some mischief.
SOS. Ah! I'm worried that this Andrian is going to cause some trouble.
Sim. At first, in a modest way, she passed her life with thriftiness and in hardship, seeking a livelihood with her wool and loom. But after an admirer made advances, promising her a recompense, first one and then another; as the disposition of all mankind has a downward tendency from industry toward pleasure, she accepted their proposals, and then began to trade upon her beauty. Those who then were her admirers, by chance, as it often happens, took my son thither that he might be in their company. Forthwith I said to myself, “He is surely caught; he is smitten.”33 In the morning I used to observe their servant-boys coming or going away; I used to make inquiry, “Here, my lad, tell me, will you, who had Chrysis yesterday?” for that was the name of the Andrian (touching Sosia on the arm).
Yes. At first, she lived simply and struggled to make a living with her wool and loom. But once a suitor expressed interest, promising her rewards, first one and then another; just as it tends to happen with most people, she shifted from hard work to pleasure, accepting their offers and then starting to leverage her beauty. Her admirers, as it often goes, took my son along so he could be with them. Right away, I thought to myself, “He’s definitely hooked; he’s infatuated.” 33 In the morning, I’d watch their servant boys coming and going. I would ask them, “Hey, kid, who had Chrysis yesterday?” that being the name of the girl from Andros (touching Sosia on the arm).
Sos. I understand.
Got it.
Sim. Phædrus, or Clinias, or Niceratus, they used to say; for these three then loved her at the same time. “Well now, what did Pamphilus do?” “What? He gave his contribution;34 he took part in the dinner.” Just so on another day I made inquiry, but I discovered nothing whatever that affected Pamphilus. In fact, I thought him sufficiently proved, and a great pattern of continence; for he who is brought into 10 contact with dispositions of that sort, and his feelings are not aroused even under such circumstances, you may be sure that he is already capable of undertaking the governance of his own life. This pleased me, and every body with one voice began to say all kinds of flattering things, and to extol my good fortune, in having a son endowed with such a disposition. What need is there of talking? Chremes, influenced by this report, came to me of his own accord, to offer his only daughter as a wife to my son, with a very large portion. It pleased me; I betrothed him; this was the day appointed for the nuptials.
Yep. Phædrus, Clinias, and Niceratus all used to say this, as those three were in love with her at the same time. “So, what did Pamphilus do?” “What? He contributed; he joined in the dinner.” Just like that, another day I asked around, but I found nothing that reflected badly on Pamphilus. In fact, I thought he was clearly a model of self-control; someone who can be around people like that and doesn’t lose his composure, even in those situations, is definitely capable of managing his own life. This made me happy, and everyone unanimously began to say all kinds of flattering things, praising my good luck in having a son with such a character. What’s there to say? Chremes, swayed by this reputation, approached me willingly to offer his only daughter as a wife for my son, with a substantial dowry. I was pleased; I arranged the engagement; this was the day set for the wedding.
Sos. What then stands in the way? Why should they not take place?
SOS. So what's holding things up? Why shouldn't they happen?
Sim. You shall hear. In about a few days after these things had been agreed on, Chrysis, this neighbor, dies.
Yep. You'll see. A few days after everything was settled, Chrysis, our neighbor, passed away.
Sos. Bravo! You’ve made me happy. I was afraid for him on account of Chrysis.
SOS. Awesome! You’ve made me happy. I was worried about him because of Chrysis.
Sim. Then my son was often there, with those who had admired Chrysis; with them he took charge of the funeral; sorrowful, in the mean time, he sometimes wept with them in condolence. Then that pleased me. Thus I reflected: “He by reason of this slight intimacy takes her death so much to heart; what if he himself had wooed her? What will he do for me his father?” All these things I took to be the duties of a humane disposition and of tender feelings. Why do I detain you with many words? Even I myself,35 for his sake, went forth to the funeral, as yet suspecting no harm.
Sure. My son was often there, surrounded by those who admired Chrysis. He took charge of the funeral arrangements and, feeling sorrowful, sometimes cried with them in sympathy. This made me happy. I thought, “Because of this close connection, he’s taking her death so much to heart; what would happen if he had been the one to court her? How will he handle this for me, his father?” I saw all of this as the behavior of a caring and sensitive person. Why should I hold you up with lengthy words? Even I, for his sake, went to the funeral, not suspecting any wrong.
Sos. Ha! what is this?
Sos. Ha! What’s going on?
Sim. You shall know. She is brought out; we proceed. In the mean time, among the females who were there present, I saw by chance one young woman of beauteous form.
Yep. You will find out. She is brought out; we continue. In the meantime, among the women who were there, I happened to notice one young woman with a beautiful figure.
Sos. Very likely.
Sos. Probably.
Sim. And of countenance, Sosia, so modest, so charming, that nothing could surpass. As she appeared to me to lament beyond the rest, and as she was of a figure handsome and genteel beyond the other women, I approached the female 11 attendants;36 I inquired who she was. They said that she was the sister of Chrysis. It instantly struck my mind: “Ay, ay, this is it; hence those tears, hence that sympathy.”
Yep. And her demeanor, Sosia, was so modest and charming that nothing could compare. She seemed to mourn more than the others, and she was more beautiful and elegant than the other women. So, I went up to the female attendants; 11 I asked who she was. They told me she was Chrysis's sister. It hit me right away: “Ah, this makes sense; that’s why she’s crying, that’s where that sympathy comes from.”
Sos. How I dread what you are coming to!
SOS. I really dread what you're about to become!
Sim. The funeral procession meanwhile advances; we follow; we come to the burying-place.37 She is placed upon the pile; they weep. In the mean time, this sister, whom I mentioned, approached the flames too incautiously, with considerable danger. There, at that moment, Pamphilus, in his extreme alarm, discovers his well-dissembled and long-hidden passion; he runs up, clasps the damsel by the waist. “My Glycerium,” says he, “what are you doing? Why are you going to destroy yourself?” Then she, so that you might easily recognize their habitual attachment, weeping, threw herself back upon him—how affectionately!
Yep. The funeral procession moves forward; we follow; we arrive at the burial site. 37 She is laid on the pyre; people are crying. Meanwhile, this sister I mentioned got a little too close to the flames, putting herself in serious danger. At that moment, Pamphilus, overwhelmed with fear, reveals his long-hidden feelings; he rushes over and pulls the girl to him. “My Glycerium,” he says, “what are you doing? Why would you harm yourself?” Then she, to show their close bond, cried and leaned back against him—so tenderly!
Sos. What do you say?
Sos. What do you think?
Sim. I returned thence in anger, and hurt at heart: and yet there was not sufficient ground for reproving him. He might say; “What have I done? How have I deserved this, or offended, father? She who wished to throw herself into the flames, I prevented; I saved her.” The defense is a reasonable one.
Yep. I went back feeling angry and hurt, but there wasn’t really a good reason to blame him. He could say, “What have I done? How have I deserved this or upset you, Dad? I stopped her from throwing herself into the flames; I saved her.” That’s a fair defense.
Sos. You judge aright; for if you censure him who has assisted to preserve life, what are you to do to him who causes loss or misfortune to it?
SOS. You're correct; if you criticize the person who helped save a life, what are you going to do to someone who brings about loss or misfortune to it?
Sim. Chremes comes to me next day, exclaiming: “Disgraceful conduct!”—that he had ascertained that Pamphilus was keeping this foreign woman as a wife. I steadfastly denied that to be the fact. He insisted that it was the fact. In short, I then left him refusing to bestow his daughter.
Yep. The next day, Chremes came to me, saying, “This is outrageous!”—he had found out that Pamphilus was keeping this foreign woman as his wife. I firmly denied that it was true. He was adamant that it was true. In the end, I walked away from him, refusing to give his daughter.
Sos. Did not you then reprove your son?
Sos. Did you not then reprove your son?
Sim. Not even this was a cause sufficiently strong for censuring him.
Yes. Not even this was a strong enough reason to criticize him.
Sos. How so? Tell me.
Sos. How come? Tell me.
12
12
Sim. “You yourself, father,” he might say, “have prescribed a limit to these proceedings. The time is near, when I must live according to the humor of another; meanwhile, for the present allow me to live according to my own.”
Yep. “You yourself, Dad,” he might say, “have set a limit to these events. The time is coming when I’ll have to live by someone else’s wishes; in the meantime, please let me live by my own.”
Sos. What room for reproving him, then, is there left?
SOS. What room is there left to criticize him, then?
Sim. If on account of his amour he shall decline to take a wife, that, in the first place, is an offense on his part to be censured. And now for this am I using my endeavors, that, by means of the pretended marriage, there may be real ground for rebuking him, if he should refuse; at the same time, that if that rascal Davus has any scheme, he may exhaust it now, while his knaveries can do no harm: who, I do believe, with hands, feet, and all his might, will do every thing; and more for this, no doubt, that he may do me an ill turn, than to oblige my son.
Yes. If he decides not to marry because of his affair, that's something he should be criticized for. And now I'm trying to create a situation where, through this fake marriage, we can have a real reason to confront him if he refuses. At the same time, if that sneak Davus has any plans, he should play them out now while his tricks can't cause any damage. I truly believe he will do everything he can, using all his strength, and he’s probably more motivated to get back at me than to help my son.
Sos. For what reason?
Sos. Why?
Sim. Do you ask? Bad heart, bad disposition. Whom, however, if I do detect—But what need is there of talking? If it should turn out, as I wish, that there is no delay on the part of Pamphilus, Chremes remains to be prevailed upon by me; and I do hope that all will go well. Now it’s your duty to pretend these nuptials cleverly, to terrify Davus; and watch my son, what he’s about, what schemes he is planning with him.
Yep. Are you asking? Bad heart, bad attitude. But if I do find out—What’s the point in talking about it? If things go my way and there’s no hold-up from Pamphilus, then I just need to convince Chremes; I really hope everything works out. Now it’s your job to skillfully fake these weddings to scare Davus and keep an eye on my son, see what he's up to and what plans he's making with him.
Sos. ’Tis enough; I’ll take care; now let’s go in-doors.
Help. That's enough; I'll handle it; now let's go inside.
Sim. You go first; I’ll follow.
Sim. You go ahead; I'll follow.
Sosia goes into the house of Simo.
Sosia enters Simo's house.
Sim. (to himself.) There’s no doubt but that my son doesn’t wish for a wife; so alarmed did I perceive Davus to be just now, when he heard that there was going to be a marriage. But the very man is coming out of the house.
Sure. (to himself.) It's clear that my son doesn’t want a wife; I could see how panicked Davus was just now when he heard about the upcoming marriage. But that very man is coming out of the house.
Stands aside.
Steps aside.
Scene II.
Enter Davus from the house of Simo.
Enter Davus from Simo's house.
Dav. (aloud to himself.) I was wondering if this matter was to go off thus; and was continually dreading where my 13 master’s good humor would end; for, after he had heard that a wife would not be given to his son, he never uttered a word to any one of us, or took it amiss.
Dav. (aloud to himself.) I was thinking about whether this situation would play out like this, and I kept worrying about when my master's good mood would wear off; because after he found out that his son wouldn’t be getting a wife, he didn’t say anything to any of us, nor did he seem upset about it. 13
Sim. (apart, overhearing him.) But now he’ll do so: and that, I fancy, not without heavy cost to you.
Yep. (aside, listening to him.) But now he’ll do that: and I imagine it won’t come cheap for you.
Dav. (to himself.) He meant this, that we, thus unsuspecting, should be led away by delusive joy; that now in hope, all fear being removed, we might during our supineness be surprised, so that there might be no time for planning a rupture of the marriage. How clever!
Dav. (to himself.) He intended this: that we, completely unaware, would be led astray by false happiness; that now, with all fear gone, we might be caught off guard in our complacency, leaving no time to come up with a plan to break off the marriage. How clever!
Sim. (apart.) The villain! what does he say?
Yes. (apart.) The bad guy! What does he say?
Dav. (overhearing him, to himself.) It’s my master, and I didn’t see him.
Dav. (overhearing him, to himself.) It’s my boss, and I didn’t notice him.
Sim. Davus.
Sim. Davus.
Dav. Well, what is it?
Dav. So, what's up?
Sim. Just step this way to me.
Yes. Just come over here to me.
Dav. (to himself.) What does he want?
Dav. (to himself.) What does he want?
Sim. What are you saying?
Sim. What are you talking about?
Dav. About what?
Dav. About what exactly?
Sim. Do you ask the question? There’s a report that my son’s in love.
Yep. Are you asking the question? There's a rumor that my son is in love.
Dav. The public troubles itself about that,38 of course.
Dav. People care about that, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, obviously.
Sim. Will you attend to this, or not?
Yep. Will you take care of this, or not?
Dav. Certainly, I will, to that.
Sure, I will do that.
Sim. But for me to inquire now into these matters, were the part of a severe father. For what he has done hitherto, doesn’t concern me at all. So long as his time of life prompted to that course, I allowed him to indulge his inclination: now this day brings on another mode of life, demands other habits. From this time forward, I do request, or if it is reasonable, I do entreat you, Davus, that he may now return to the right path.
Yeah. But for me to look into these things now would be overly stern. What he has done until now doesn’t concern me at all. As long as he was living that way, I let him follow his desires; but now this day marks a new way of life and requires different habits. From this point on, I ask, or if it’s reasonable, I beg you, Davus, to help him return to the right path.
Dav. (aside.) What can this mean?
Dav. (aside.) What does this mean?
Sim. All who are intriguing take it ill to have a wife given them.
Yep. Everyone who enjoys intrigues resents being given a wife.
Dav. So they say.
Dav. That's what they say.
Sim. And if any one has adopted a bad instructor in that 14 course, he generally urges the enfeebled mind to pursuits still more unbecoming.
Yep. And if anyone has chosen a poor teacher in that 14 subject, they usually push the weakened mind towards even more inappropriate activities.
Dav. I’faith, I do not comprehend.
Dav. Honestly, I don't understand.
Sim. No? Ha——
Sim. No? Haha——
Dav. No—I am Davus, not Œdipus.39
Dav. No—I am Davus, not Oedipus.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Sim. Of course then, you wish me to speak plainly in what further I have to say.
Yep. Of course, you want me to be straightforward about what I need to say next.
Dav. Certainly, by all means.
Sure, of course.
Sim. If I this day find out that you are attempting any trickery about this marriage, to the end that it may not take place; or are desirous that in this matter it should be proved how knowing you are; I’ll hand you over, Davus, beaten with stripes, to the mill,40 even to your dying day, upon this condition and pledge, that if ever I release you, I shall grind in your place. Now, do you understand this? Or not yet even this?
Yes. If I find out today that you’re trying to pull any tricks regarding this marriage to stop it from happening, or if you want to prove how clever you are in this situation, I’ll have you, Davus, beaten with stripes and sent to the mill for the rest of your life, on the condition that if I ever let you go, I’ll take your place. Now, do you get that? Or are you still confused?
Dav. Yes, perfectly: you have now spoken so plainly upon the subject, you have not used the least circumlocution.
Dav. Yes, absolutely: you have expressed yourself so clearly on the topic, you haven't used any roundabout language at all.
Sim. In any thing would I more willingly allow myself to be imposed upon than in this matter.
Yes. In anything, I would rather let myself be taken advantage of than in this situation.
Dav. Fair words, I entreat.
Dav. I ask for kind words.
Sim. You are ridiculing me: you don’t at all deceive me. I give you warning, don’t act rashly, and don’t say you were not warned. Take care.
Yep. You're making fun of me: you’re not fooling me at all. I'm warning you, don’t act impulsively, and don’t say you weren’t warned. Be careful.
Shaking his stick, goes into the house.
Shaking his stick, he goes into the house.
Scene III.
Davus alone.
Davus by himself.
Dav. (to himself.) Assuredly, Davus, there’s no room for slothfulness or inactivity, so far as I’ve just now ascertained the old man’s mind about the marriage; which if it is not provided against by cunning, will be bringing either myself or my master to ruin. What to do, I am not determined; whether I should assist Pamphilus or obey the old man. If I desert the former, I fear for his life; if I assist him, I dread 15 the other’s threats, on whom it will be a difficult matter to impose. In the first place, he has now found out about this amour; with hostile feelings he watches me, lest I should be devising some trickery against the marriage. If he discovers it, I’m undone; or even if he chooses to allege any pretext, whether rightfully or wrongfully, he will consign me headlong to the mill. To these evils this one is besides added for me. This Andrian, whether she is his wife, or whether his mistress, is pregnant by Pamphilus. It is worth while to hear their effrontery; for it is an undertaking worthy of those in their dotage, not of those who dote in love;41 whatever she shall bring forth, they have resolved to rear;42 and they are now contriving among themselves a certain scheme, that she is a citizen of Attica. There was formerly a certain old man of this place, a merchant; he was shipwrecked off the Isle of Andros; he died. They say that there, the father of Chrysis, on that occasion, sheltered this girl, thrown on shore, an orphan, a little child. What nonsense! To myself at least it isn’t very probable; the fiction pleases them, however. But Mysis is coming out of the house. Now I’ll betake myself hence to the Forum,43 that I may meet with Pamphilus, lest his father should take him by surprise about this matter.
Dav. (to himself.) For sure, Davus, there's no time for laziness or idleness, especially since I've just figured out how the old man feels about the marriage; if I don't come up with a clever plan, it could ruin both me and my master. I'm not sure what to do—should I help Pamphilus or follow the old man's orders? If I abandon the former, I'm worried for his safety; if I help him, I'm scared of the other guy's threats, which won't be easy to deal with. First of all, he knows about this affair now; he’s keeping an eye on me, worried I might try to sabotage the marriage. If he finds out, I'm finished; even if he makes some excuse, whether it's justified or not, he’ll throw me under the bus. To make matters worse, this Andrian, whether she's his wife or just his mistress, is pregnant with Pamphilus's child. It’s absurd to hear how bold they are; this is a situation fit for those who are past their prime, not for those who are caught up in love. Whatever she ends up having, they plan to raise it, and they’re now cooking up a story that she’s a citizen of Attica. There used to be an old man from here, a merchant; he got shipwrecked near the Isle of Andros and died. They say that the father of Chrysis helped this girl, who was washed ashore, orphaned and a little kid. What nonsense! At least to me, it doesn’t seem very believable; but they like the story. But here comes Mysis out of the house. Now I’ll head to the Forum, 43 so I can meet Pamphilus before his father catches him off guard about this whole situation.
Exit.
Log out.
Scene IV.
Enter Mysis from the house of Glycerium.
Enter Mysis from the Glycerium house.
Mys. (speaking at the door to Archylis within.) I’ve heard 16 you already, Archylis; you request Lesbia to be fetched. Really, upon my faith, she is a wine-bibbing44 and a rash woman, and not sufficiently trustworthy for you to commit to her care a female at her first delivery; is she still to be brought? (She receives an answer from within, and comes forward.) Do look at the inconsiderateness of the old woman; because she is her pot-companion. Ye Gods, I do entreat you, give her ease in her delivery, and to that woman an opportunity of making her mistakes elsewhere in preference. But why do I see Pamphilus so out of spirits? I fear what it may be. I’ll wait, that I may know whether this sorrow portends any disaster.
Ms. (speaking at the door to Archylis inside.) I’ve heard you already, Archylis; you want Lesbia to be called. Honestly, I swear, she’s a heavy drinker and an impulsive woman, not someone you can trust to take care of a woman during her first childbirth. Is she still coming? (She gets a response from inside and steps forward.) Just look at the thoughtlessness of that old woman; it’s because she’s her drinking buddy. Oh my gods, I really hope you grant her an easy delivery, and give that woman a chance to make her mistakes somewhere else instead. But why do I see Pamphilus looking so down? I’m worried about what it could mean. I’ll wait to find out if this sadness suggests some trouble ahead.
Stands apart.
Stands out.
Scene V.
Enter Pamphilus, wringing his hands.
Enter Pamphilus, anxiously wringing his hands.
Pam. (to himself.) Is it humane to do or to devise this? Is this the duty of a father?
Pam. (to himself.) Is it right to do or come up with this? Is this what a father is supposed to do?
Mys. (apart.) What does this mean?
Mys. (apart.) What does this mean?
Pam. (to himself.) O, by our faith in the Gods! what is, if this is not, an indignity? He had resolved that he himself would give me a wife to-day; ought I not to have known this beforehand? Ought it not to have been mentioned previously?
Pam. (to himself.) Oh, by our faith in the Gods! What is this, if not an insult? He planned to give me a wife today; shouldn’t I have known this ahead of time? Shouldn’t it have been mentioned earlier?
Mys. (apart.) Wretched me! What language do I hear?
Ms. (apart.) Poor me! What language is that I hear?
Pam. (to himself.) What does Chremes do? He who had declared that he would not intrust his daughter to me as a wife; because he himself sees me unchanged he has changed. Thus perversely does he lend his aid, that he may withdraw wretched me from Glycerium. If this is effected, I am utterly undone. That any man should be so unhappy in love, or so unfortunate as I am! Oh, faith of Gods and men! shall I by no device be able to escape this alliance with Chremes? In how many ways am I contemned, and held in scorn? Every thing done, and concluded! Alas! once rejected I am sought again; for what reason? Unless perhaps it is this, 17 which I suspect it is: they are rearing some monster,45 and as she can not be pushed off upon any one else, they have recourse to me.
Pam. (to himself.) What does Chremes want? He said he wouldn’t trust me with his daughter as a wife; now, even though he sees I'm the same, he's changed. He’s helping to pull me away from Glycerium, but if that happens, I'm completely ruined. How can any man be so unlucky in love or so unfortunate as I am? Oh, the faith of gods and men! Am I really trapped in this connection with Chremes? In how many ways am I looked down on and scorned? Everything is done and decided! Alas! Once rejected, I'm sought out again. For what reason? Unless maybe it's this, which I suspect: they’re trying to raise some monster, and since she can’t be handed off to anyone else, they’re turning to me.
Mys. (apart.) This language has terrified wretched me with apprehension.
Ms. (apart.) This language has filled me with dread and anxiety.
Pam. (to himself.) But what am I to say about my father? Alas! that he should so thoughtlessly conclude an affair of such importance! Passing me in the Forum just now, he said, “Pamphilus, you must be married to-day: get ready; be off home.” He seemed to me to say this: “Be off this instant, and go hang yourself.” I was amazed; think you that I was able to utter a single word, or any excuse, even a frivolous, false, or lame one? I was speechless. But if any one were to ask me now what I would have done, if I had known this sooner, why, I would have done any thing rather than do this. But now, what course shall I first adopt? So many cares beset me, which rend my mind to pieces; love, sympathy for her, the worry of this marriage; then, respect for my father, who has ever, until now, with such an indulgent disposition, allowed me to do whatever was agreeable to my feelings. Ought I to oppose him? Ah me! I am in uncertainty what to do.
Pam. (to himself.) But what am I supposed to say about my father? It's such a shame that he would so thoughtlessly decide something so important! As I passed him in the Forum just now, he said, “Pamphilus, you need to get married today: go home and get ready.” It felt more like he was saying, “Get out of here right now, and go throw your life away.” I was shocked; do you think I could say a single word or even come up with an excuse, no matter how silly or weak? I was totally at a loss for words. But if someone were to ask me now what I would have done if I had known this earlier, well, I would have chosen anything over this. But now, what should I do first? I’m overwhelmed with so many worries that are tearing me apart—love, concern for her, the stress of this marriage; and then there's my respect for my father, who has always, until now, been so understanding and let me follow my own feelings. Should I go against him? Oh, I’m really unsure about what to do.
Mys. (apart.) I’m wretchedly afraid how this uncertainty is to terminate. But now there’s an absolute necessity, either for him to speak to her, or for me to speak to him about her. While the mind is in suspense, it is swayed by a slight impulse one way or the other.
Ms. (apart.) I'm absolutely terrified about how this uncertainty will end. But now it's crucial for him to talk to her, or for me to talk to him about her. When the mind is in limbo, it can be easily influenced in one direction or another.
Pam. (overhearing her.) Who is it speaking here? (Seeing her.) Mysis? Good-morrow to you.
Pam. (overhearing her.) Who’s talking here? (Seeing her.) Mysis? Good morning to you.
Mys. Oh! Good-morrow to you, Pamphilus.
Mys. Oh! Good morning to you, Pamphilus.
Pam. How is she?
Pam. How's she doing?
Mys. Do you ask? She is oppressed with grief,46 and on this account the poor thing is anxious, because some time 18 ago the marriage was arranged for this day. Then, too, she fears this, that you may forsake her.
Ms. Are you asking? She’s overwhelmed with grief, 46 and because of this, the poor thing is worried, since a while back, the marriage was planned for today. Also, she fears that you might abandon her.
Pam. Ha! could I attempt that? Could I suffer her, poor thing, to be deceived on my account? She, who has confided to me her affection, and her entire existence? She, whom I have held especially dear to my feelings as my wife? Shall I suffer her mind, well and chastely trained and tutored, to be overcome by poverty and corrupted? I will not do it.
Pam. Ha! Could I even think of doing that? Could I let her, poor thing, be misled because of me? She has shared her love and her whole life with me. She, whom I have cherished deeply as my wife? Am I really going to let her pure and well-trained mind be overwhelmed by poverty and tainted? I will not do it.
Mys. I should have no fear if it rested with yourself alone; but whether you may be able to withstand compulsion—
Ms. I wouldn't be scared if it depended only on you; but whether you can resist pressure—
Pam. Do you deem me so cowardly, so utterly ungrateful, inhuman, and so brutish, that neither intimacy, nor affection, nor shame, can move or admonish me to keep faith?
Pam. Do you really think I'm that cowardly, that completely ungrateful, inhuman, and so brutal, that nothing—neither closeness, nor love, nor shame—can persuade or remind me to stay loyal?
Mys. This one thing I know, that she is deserving that you should not forget her.
Ms. I know this for sure: she deserves for you to remember her.
Pam. Forget her? Oh Mysis, Mysis, at this moment are those words of Chrysis concerning Glycerium written on my mind. Now at the point of death, she called me; I went to her; you had withdrawn; we were alone; she began: “My dear Pamphilus, you see her beauty and her youth; and it is not unknown to you to what extent both of these are now of use to her, in protecting both her chastity and her interests. By this right hand I do entreat you, and by your good Genius,47 by your own fidelity, and by her bereft condition, 19 do not withdraw yourself from her, or forsake her; if I have loved you as my own brother, or if she has always prized you above all others, or has been obedient to you in all things. You do I give to her as a husband, friend, protector, father. This property of mine do I intrust to you, and commit to your care.” She placed her in my hands; that instant, death came upon her. I accepted her; having accepted, I will protect her.
Pam. Forget her? Oh Mysis, Mysis, right now Chrysis's words about Glycerium are stuck in my mind. As she was dying, she called for me; I went to her; you had stepped away; we were alone. She started: “My dear Pamphilus, you see her beauty and her youth; and you know well how important both are to her now, in preserving her purity and her well-being. I beg you by this right hand, by your good spirit, by your loyalty, and by her helpless situation, 19 don’t turn away from her or abandon her; if I’ve loved you like a brother, or if she has always valued you above anyone else, or has been obedient to you in everything. I give you to her as a husband, friend, protector, father. This property of mine I entrust to you and place in your care.” She entrusted her to me; in that moment, death took her. I accepted her; now that I have accepted, I will protect her.
Mys. So indeed I hope. (Moving.)
Mys. So I really hope. (Moving.)
Pam. But why are you leaving her?
Pam. But why are you leaving her?
Pam. Make all haste. And—do you hear?—take care, and not one word about the marriage, lest that too should add to her illness.
Pam. Hurry up. And—do you hear?—be careful, and not a single word about the marriage, or that might make her illness worse.
Mys. I understand.
Got it.
Exeunt severally.
Exit individually.
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.
Enter Charinus and Byrrhia.49
Enter Charinus and Byrrhia. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Char. How say you, Byrrhia? Is she to be given in marriage to Pamphilus to-day?
Char. What do you think, Byrrhia? Is she getting married to Pamphilus today?
Byr. It is so.
Byr. It's true.
Char. How do you know?
Char. How do you know that?
20
20
Byr. I heard it just now from Davus at the Forum.
Byr. I just heard it from Davus at the Forum.
Char. Woe unto wretched me! As, hitherto, until now, my mind has been racked amid hope and fear; so, since hope has been withdrawn, wearied with care, it sinks overwhelmed.
Char. Woe is me! Up until now, my mind has been torn between hope and fear; now that hope is gone, I'm exhausted and it feels like I'm drowning.
Byr. By my troth, Charinus, since that which you wish can not come to pass, prithee, do wish that which can.
Byrne. I promise you, Charinus, since what you want can't happen, please wish for something that can.
Char. I wish for nothing else but Philumena.
Char. I want nothing more than Philumena.
Byr. Alas! How much better were it for you to endeavor to expel that passion from your mind, than to be saying that by which your desire is to no purpose still more inflamed.
Byr. Unfortunately! It would be far better for you to try to get rid of that desire from your mind rather than to keep saying things that only fuel your longing even more.
Char. We all, when we are well, with ease give good advice to the sick. If you were in my situation, you would think otherwise.
Char. When we're feeling fine, it's easy to offer good advice to those who are sick. But if you were in my shoes, you would see it differently.
Byr. Well, well, just as you like.
Byr. Sure, whatever you prefer.
Char. (looking down the side scene.) But I see Pamphilus; I’m determined I’ll try every thing before I despair.
Char. (looking down the side scene.) But I see Pamphilus; I’m determined I’ll try everything before I give up.
Byr. (aside) What does he mean?
Byr. (aside) What does he mean?
Char. I will entreat his own self; I will supplicate him; I will disclose to him my love. I think that I shall prevail upon him to put off the marriage for some days at least; in the mean time, something will turn up, I trust.
Char. I will ask him myself; I will beg him; I will tell him how I feel. I believe I can convince him to postpone the marriage for a few days at least; in the meantime, I hope something will come up.
Byr. That something is nothing.
That something is nothing.
Char. Byrrhia, how seems it to you? Shall I accost him?
Char. Byrrhia, what do you think? Should I go talk to him?
Byr. Why not? Should you not prevail, that at least he may look upon you as a gallant ready provided for him, if he marries her.
Byr. Why not? If you don’t succeed, at least he can see you as a brave ready prepared for him, if he decides to marry her.
Char. Away with you to perdition with that vile suggestion, you rascal!
Char. Get lost with that awful suggestion, you scoundrel!
Scene II.
Enter Pamphilus.
Enter Pamphilus.
Pam. I espy Charinus. (Accosting him.) Good-morrow!
Pam. I spot Charinus. (Approaching him.) Good morning!
Char. O, good-morrow. Pamphilus, I’m come to you, seeking hope, safety, counsel, and assistance.
Char. Oh, good morning. Pamphilus, I’ve come to you looking for hope, safety, advice, and help.
Pam. I’faith, I have neither time for counsel, nor resources for assistance. But what’s the matter now?
Pam. Honestly, I don’t have time for advice or help. But what’s going on now?
Char. To-day you are going to take a wife?
Char. Are you going to get married today?
Pam. So they say.
Pam. So they say.
Char. Pamphilus, if you do that, you behold me this day for the last time.
Char. Pamphilus, if you do that, you'll be seeing me for the last time today.
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Pam. Why so?
Pam. Why's that?
Char. Ah me! I dread to tell it; prithee, do you tell it, Bvrrhia.
Char. Oh no! I'm afraid to say it; please, you tell it, Bvrrhia.
Byr. I’ll tell it.
Byr. I’ll share it.
Pam. What is it?
Pam. What’s up?
Byr. He’s in love with your betrothed.
Byr. He's in love with your fiancé.
Pam. Assuredly he’s not of my way of thinking. Come now, tell me, have you had any more to do with her, Charinus?
Pam. Surely he doesn't think like I do. Come on, tell me, have you had any more to do with her, Charinus?
Char. Oh Pamphilus, nothing.
Oh Pamphilus, nothing.
Pam. How much I wish you had.
Pam. How much I wish you did.
Char. Now, by our friendship and by my affection, I do beseech you, in the first place, not to marry her.
Char. Now, by our friendship and my feelings for you, I really urge you, first of all, not to marry her.
Pam. For my own part I’ll use my endeavors.
Pam. As for me, I’ll do my best.
Char. But if that can not be, or if this marriage is agreeable to you—
Char. But if that's not possible, or if you're okay with this marriage—
Pam. Agreeable to me?
Pam. Does that work for me?
Char. Put it off for some days at least, while I go elsewhere, that I may not be witness.
Char. Delay it for a few days at least, while I go somewhere else, so I won't have to see it.
Pam. Now listen, once for all: I think it, Charinus, to be by no means the part of an ingenuous man, when he confers nothing, to expect that it should be considered as an obligation on his part. I am more desirous to avoid this match, than you to gain it.
Pam. Listen up, Charinus: I really don't think it's fair for someone to have expectations if they aren't contributing anything. I want to avoid this match more than you want to win it.
Char. You have restored me to life.
Char. You’ve brought me back to life.
Pam. Now, if you can do any thing, either you yourself, or Byrrhia here, manage, fabricate, invent, contrive some means, whereby she may be given to you; this I shall aim at, how she may not be given to me.
Pam. So, if you or Byrrhia can do anything, come up with some way to make it happen, so she can be yours; my focus will be on how she won't be given to me.
Char. I am satisfied.
Char. I'm satisfied.
Pam. Most opportunely I perceive Davus, on whose advice I have depended.
Pam. Fortunately, I see Davus, whose advice I’ve relied on.
Char. (turning to Byrrhia.) But you, i’faith, tell me nothing,50 except those things which there is no need for knowing. (Pushing him away.) Get you gone from here.
Char. (turning to Byrrhia.) But you, seriously, don’t tell me anything, 50 except for the stuff that I don’t need to know. (Pushing him away.) Just leave me alone.
Byr. Certainly I will, and with all my heart.
Byr. Of course I will, and with all my heart.
Exit.
Leave.
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Scene III.
Enter Davus in haste.
Enter Davus quickly.
Dav. (not seeing Pamphilus and Charinus.) Ye gracious Gods, what good news I bring! But where shall I find Pamphilus, that I may remove the apprehension in which he now is, and fill his mind with joy—?
Dav. (not seeing Pamphilus and Charinus.) Oh gracious Gods, I have great news! But where can I find Pamphilus so I can ease his worries and fill him with happiness—?
Char. (apart to Pamphilus.) He’s rejoiced about something, I don’t know what.
Char. (aside to Pamphilus.) He’s happy about something, I have no idea what.
Pam. (apart.) It’s of no consequence; he hasn’t yet heard of these misfortunes.
Pam. (aside.) It doesn’t matter; he hasn’t heard about these troubles yet.
Dav. (to himself.) For I do believe now, if he has already heard that a marriage is prepared for him—
Dav. (to himself.) I really think now, if he’s already heard that a marriage is set up for him—
Char. (apart.) Don’t you hear him?
Don’t you hear him?
Dav. (to himself.) He is seeking me distractedly all the city over. But where shall I look for him? Or in which direction now first to betake me—
Dav. (to himself.) He's searching for me all over the city in a panic. But where should I look for him? Which direction should I head in first—
Char. (apart to Pamphilus.) Do you hesitate to accost him?
Char. (aside to Pamphilus.) Are you hesitating to approach him?
Dav. (to himself.) I have it. (Moving on.)
Dav. (to himself.) I've got it. (Moving on.)
Pam. Davus, come here! Stop!
Pam. Davus, come here! Stop!
Dav. Who’s the person that’s—(Turning round.) O Pamphilus, you are the very man I’m looking for. Well done, Charinus! both in the nick of time: I want you both.
Dav. Who's the person that’s—(Turning around.) Oh Pamphilus, you’re exactly the person I need. Good job, Charinus! Both of you showed up just in time: I want you both.
Char. Davus, I’m undone!
Char. Davus, I’m a mess!
Dav. Nay but, do hear this.
Dav. But listen to this.
Pam. I’m utterly ruined!
Pam. I'm completely ruined!
Dav. I know what you are afraid of.
Dav. I know what you're scared of.
Char. I’faith, my life indeed is really in danger.
Char. Seriously, my life is truly in danger.
Dav. (to Charinus.) And what you are afraid of, I know.
Dav. (to Charinus.) And I know what you're afraid of.
Pam. My marriage—
Pam. My marriage—
Dav. As if I did not know it?
Dav. Like I didn't already know that?
Pam. This day—
Pam. This day—
Dav. Why keep dinning me with it, when I know it all? (To Pamphilus.) This are you afraid of, lest you should marry her; and you (to Charinus,) lest you should not marry her.
Dav. Why do you keep nagging me about it when I already know everything? (To Pamphilus.) Are you scared of marrying her? And you (to Charinus,) are you worried about not marrying her?
Char. You understand the matter.
Char. You get the point.
Pam. That’s the very thing.
Pam. That's exactly it.
Dav. And that very thing is in no danger; trust me for that.
Dav. And that won't be at risk at all; you can count on me for that.
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Pam. I do entreat you, release wretched me as soon as possible from this apprehension.
Pam. I beg you, free me from this misery as soon as you can.
Dav. Well, then, I will release you; Chremes is not going to give you his daughter at present.
Dav. Alright, then, I’ll let you go; Chremes isn’t ready to give you his daughter right now.
Pam. How do you know?
Pam. How do you know?
Dav. You shall know. Your father just now laid hold of me; he said that a wife was to be given you to-day, and many other things as well, which just now I haven’t time to relate. Hastening to you immediately, I ran on to the Forum that I might tell you these things. When I didn’t find you, I ascended there to a high place.51 I looked around; you were nowhere. There by chance I saw Byrrhia, his servant (pointing to Charinus). I inquired of him; he said he hadn’t seen you. This puzzled me. I considered what I was to do. As I was returning in the mean time, a surmise from the circumstances themselves occurred to me: “How now,—a very small amount of good cheer; he out of spirits; a marriage all of a sudden; these things don’t agree.”
Dav. You’re about to find out. Your dad just caught me and mentioned that you’re supposed to get a wife today, along with a lot of other stuff that I don’t have time to go into right now. I rushed over to you as fast as I could, heading to the Forum to share the news. When I didn’t find you there, I went up to a high spot. I looked around, but you were nowhere in sight. By chance, I spotted Byrrhia, his servant (pointing to Charinus). I asked him, and he said he hadn’t seen you. This confused me. I thought about what to do next. While I was making my way back, I suddenly had a realization based on what I’d seen: “Hmm—there's very little good cheer; he seems down; a marriage out of nowhere; these things don’t add up.”
Pam. But to what purpose this?
Pam. But what's the point of this?
Dav. I forthwith betook myself to the house of Chremes. When I arrived there—stillness before the door;52 then I was pleased at that.
Dav. I immediately went to Chremes' house. When I got there—silence in front of the door;52 then I felt happy about that.
Char. You say well.
You speak well.
Pam. Proceed.
Pam. Go ahead.
Dav. I stopped there. In the mean time I saw no one going in, no one going out; no matron at the house,53 no preparation, no bustle. I drew near; looked in—
Dav. I paused there. In the meantime, I didn't see anyone coming in or out; no caretaker around the house, 53 no signs of activity, no commotion. I approached and peered inside—
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Pam. I understand; a considerable indication.
Pam. I get it; a strong sign.
Dav. Do these things seem to accord with a wedding?
Dav. Do these things seem appropriate for a wedding?
Pam. I think not, Davus.
Pam. I don't think so, Davus.
Dav. Think, do you say? You don’t view it rightly; the thing is certain. Besides, coming away from there I saw the servant-boy of Chremes carrying some vegetables and little fishes, an obol’s worth,54 for the old man’s dinner.
Dav. You think so, huh? You're not seeing it clearly; it's a sure thing. Plus, when I was leaving, I saw Chremes' servant boy carrying some vegetables and little fish, just enough for an obol’s worth for the old man's dinner.
Char. This day, Davus, have I been delivered by your means.
Char. Today, Davus, I have been set free thanks to you.
Dav. And yet not at all.
Dav. But not really.
Char. Why so? Surely he will not give her to him, after all this. (Pointing to Pamphilus.)
Char. Why is that? He can't seriously be thinking of giving her to him after everything that's happened. (Pointing to Pamphilus.)
Dav. You silly fellow! as though it were a necessary consequence that if he doesn’t give her to him you should marry her: unless, indeed, you look about you; unless you entreat and make court to the old man’s friends.
Dav. You silly guy! Like it’s a given that if he doesn’t give her to him, you should marry her: unless, actually, you start looking around; unless you ask and try to win over the old man’s friends.
Char. You advise well. I’ll go; although, upon my faith, this hope has often eluded me already. Farewell!
Char. You're right. I'll go; although, honestly, this hope has slipped away from me many times before. Goodbye!
Exit.
Leave.
Scene IV.
Pamphilus and Davus.
Pamphilus and Davus.
Pam. What then does my father mean? Why does he thus make pretense?
Pam. What does my father mean then? Why is he pretending like this?
Dav. I’ll tell you. If now he were angry with you, because Chremes will not give you a wife, he would seem to himself to be unjust, and that not without reason, before he has ascertained your feelings as to the marriage, how they are disposed. But if you refuse to marry her, in that case he will transfer the blame to you; then such disturbances will arise.
Dav. I’ll tell you. If he were upset with you right now because Chremes won't give you a wife, he would feel he’s being unfair, and rightly so, before he knows how you really feel about the marriage and how you are leaning. But if you decide not to marry her, then he’ll blame you; that’s when all the problems will start.
Pam. I will submit to any thing from him.
Pam. I'll take anything from him.
Dav. He is your father, Pamphilus. It is a difficult matter. Besides, this woman is defenseless. No sooner said 25 than done; he will find some pretext for driving her away from the city.
Dav. He’s your father, Pamphilus. It’s a tough situation. Plus, this woman is helpless. No sooner said than done; he’ll make up some excuse to kick her out of the city. 25
Pam. Driving her away?
Pam. Driving her off?
Dav. Aye, and quickly too.
Dav. Yeah, and fast too.
Pam. Tell me then, Davus, what am I to do?
Pam. So, Davus, what should I do?
Dav. Say that you will marry her.
Dav. Just tell her you're going to marry her.
Pam. (starting.) Ha!
Pam. (starting.) Ha!
Dav. What’s the matter?
Dav. What’s wrong?
Pam. What, am I to say so?
Pam. What, should I say this?
Dav. Why not?
Dav. Why not?
Pam. Never will I do it.
Pam. I will never do it.
Dav. Don’t say so.
Dav. Don't say that.
Pam. Don’t attempt to persuade me.
Pam. Don’t try to convince me.
Dav. Consider what will be the result of it.
Dav. Think about what will happen because of it.
Pam. That I shall be deprived of the one, and fixed with the other.
Pam. That I will be deprived of one, and stuck with the other.
Dav. Not so. In fact, I think it will be thus: Your father will say: “I wish you to marry a wife to-day.” You reply: “I’ll marry her.” Tell me, how can he raise a quarrel with you? Thus you will cause all the plans which are now arranged by him to be disarranged, without any danger; for this is not to be doubted, that Chremes will not give you his daughter. Therefore do not hesitate in those measures which you are taking, on this account, lest he should change his sentiments. Tell your father that you consent; so that although he may desire it, he may not be able to be angry at you with reason. For that which you rely on, I will easily refute; “No one,” you think, “will give a wife to a person of these habits.” But he will find a beggar for you, rather than allow you to be corrupted by a mistress. If, however, he shall believe that you bear it with a contented mind, you will render him indifferent; at his leisure he will look out for another wife for you; in the mean time something lucky may turn up.
Dav. Not really. I actually think it’ll go like this: Your dad will say, “I want you to get married today.” You’ll respond, “I’ll marry her.” Tell me, how can he start a fight with you? This way, you’ll mess up all his plans without any risk, because there’s no doubt that Chremes won’t give you his daughter. So don’t hesitate with what you’re planning, in case he changes his mind. Tell your dad you agree, so even if he wants to be angry, he won’t have a good reason to be. What you’re counting on, I can easily counter; you think, “No one will give a wife to someone like me.” But he’ll find a beggar for you before he lets you get involved with a mistress. However, if he believes you’re handling it well, you’ll make him indifferent; he’ll take his time looking for another wife for you, and in the meantime, something good might come up.
Pam. Do you think so?
Pam. Do you think so?
Dav. It really is not a matter of doubt.
Dav. It really isn't a question of doubt.
Pam. Consider to what you are persuading me.
Pam. Think about what you're trying to convince me of.
Dav. Nay, but do be quiet.
Dav. No, just be quiet.
Pam. Well, I’ll say it; but, that he mayn’t come to know that she has had a child by me, is a thing to be guarded against; for I have promised to bring it up.
Pam. Well, I'll say it; but we need to make sure he doesn't find out that she had a child with me, because I've promised to take care of it.
Dav. Oh, piece of effrontery.
Dav. Oh, what a bold move.
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Pam. She entreated me that I would give her this pledge, by which she might be sure she should not be deserted.
Pam. She begged me to give her this promise, so she could be sure she wouldn't be left alone.
Dav. It shall be attended to; but your father’s coming. Take care that he doesn’t perceive that you are out of spirits.
Dav. It'll be taken care of; but your dad is coming. Make sure he doesn't notice that you're down.
Scene V.
Enter Simo, at a distance.
Enter Simo, from afar.
Sim. (apart to himself.) I’ve come back to see what they are about, or what scheme they are hatching.
Yes. (aside to himself.) I’ve come back to see what they’re up to or what plan they’re cooking up.
Dav. (to Pamphilus.) He has no doubt at present but that you’ll refuse to marry. Having considered his course, he’s come from a retired spot somewhere or other; he hopes that he has framed a speech by which to disconcert you; do you take care, then, to be yourself.
Dav. (to Pamphilus.) He’s sure right now that you’ll say no to marriage. After thinking it over, he’s come from some quiet place; he hopes he has put together a speech that will throw you off. So, just be yourself.
Pam. If I am only able, Davus.
Pam. If I can, Davus.
Dav. Trust me for that, Pamphilus, I tell you; your father will never this day exchange a single word with you, if you say that you will marry.
Dav. Trust me on this, Pamphilus, I’m telling you; your father won’t say a single word to you today if you mention that you want to get married.
Scene VI.
Enter Byrrhia, unperceived, at a distance behind Simo.
Enter Byrrhia, unnoticed, at a distance behind Simo.
Byr. (apart to himself.) My master has ordered me, leaving my business, to keep an eye on Pamphilus to-day, what he is doing with regard to the marriage. I was to learn it; for that reason, I have now followed him55 (pointing to Simo) as 27 he came hither. Himself, as well, I see standing with Davus close at hand; I’ll note this.
Byr. (to himself.) My master has instructed me to pause my own tasks and keep an eye on Pamphilus today, to see what he’s up to regarding the marriage. I was supposed to find out; that's why I’ve been following him55 (pointing to Simo) since he came here. I also see him standing close by with Davus; I'll take note of this.
Sim. (apart to himself.) I see that both of them are here.
Yep. (to himself.) I see that they're both here.
Dav. (in a low voice to Pamphilus.) Now then, be on your guard.
Dav. (in a low voice to Pamphilus.) Alright, pay attention.
Sim. Pamphilus!
Sim. Pamphilus!
Dav. (in a low voice.) Look round at him as though taken unawares.
Dav. (in a low voice.) Look around at him as if caught off guard.
Pam. (turning round sharply.) What, my father!
Pam. (turning around quickly.) What’s up, Dad!
Dav. (in a low voice.) Capital!
Awesome!
Sim. I wish you to marry a wife to-day, as I was saying.
Yep. I want you to get married today, like I was saying.
Byr. (apart.) Now I’m in dread for our side, as to what he will answer.
Byr. (apart.) Now I'm really worried for our side about how he will respond.
Pam. Neither in that nor in any thing else shall you ever find any hesitation in me.
Pam. You won’t find any hesitation in me about that or anything else.
Byr. (apart.) Hah!
Hah!
Dav. (in a low voice to Pamphilus.) He is struck dumb.
Dav. (in a hushed voice to Pamphilus.) He’s speechless.
Byr. (apart.) What a speech!
Byr. (apart.) What a talk!
Sim. You act as becomes you, when that which I ask I obtain with a good grace.
Yes. You behave as you should when you graciously grant my request.
Dav. (aside to Pamphilus.) Am I right?
Dav. (aside to Pamphilus.) Am I correct?
Byr. My master, so far as I learn, has missed his wife.
Byr. My master, from what I've heard, has been missing his wife.
Sim. Now, then, go in-doors, that you mayn’t be causing delay when you are wanted.
Yep. Alright, now go inside so you won’t hold things up when you're needed.
Pam. I’ll go.
Pam. I’ll go.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Byr. (apart.) Is there, in no case, putting trust in any man? That is a true proverb which is wont to be commonly quoted, that “all had rather it to be well for themselves than for another.” I remember noticing, when I saw her, that she was a young woman of handsome figure; wherefore I am the more disposed to excuse Pamphilus, if he has preferred that he himself, rather than the other, should embrace her in his slumbers. I’ll carry back these tidings, that, in return for this evil he may inflict evil upon me.56
Byr. (apart.) Is there ever a situation where you can truly trust anyone? There's a saying that gets repeated often: “Everyone would rather things go well for themselves than for someone else.” I remember noticing when I saw her that she was a young woman with a beautiful figure; that’s why I’m more inclined to excuse Pamphilus if he chose to dream about her instead of someone else. I’ll take this news back, so he can return the harm he’s done to me.56
Exit.
Log out.
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Scene VII.
Simo and Davus.
Simo and Davus.
Dav. (aside, coming away from the door of the house.) He now supposes that I’m bringing some trick to bear against him, and that on that account I’ve remained here.
Dav. (aside, stepping away from the door of the house.) He thinks I’m plotting something against him, and that’s why I’m still here.
Sim. What does he say, Davus?57
Sim. What does he say, Davus? __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Dav. Just as much as nothing.58
Dav. Just as much as nothing.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Sim. What, nothing? Eh?
Sim. What, nothing? Huh?
Dav. Nothing at all.
Dav. Not a thing.
Sim. And yet I certainly was expecting something.
Yep. And still, I definitely was expecting something.
Dav. It has turned out contrary to your expectations. (Aside.) I perceive it; this vexes the man.
Dav. It has turned out differently than you expected. (Aside.) I can see it; this frustrates him.
Sim. Are you able to tell me the truth?
Yep. Can you tell me the truth?
Dav. I? Nothing more easy.
Dav. Me? It's a piece of cake.
Sim. Is this marriage at all disagreeable to him, on account of his intimacy with this foreign woman?
Yep. Is this marriage at all something he objects to because of his close relationship with this foreign woman?
Dav. No, faith; or if at all, it is a two or three days’ annoyance this—you understand. It will then cease. Moreover, he himself has thought over this matter in a proper way.
Dav. No, really; or if it is, it’s just an annoyance for two or three days—you get it. After that, it will stop. Plus, he has reflected on this matter properly.
Sim. I commend him.
Sim. I praise him.
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Dav. While it was allowed him, and while his years prompted him, he intrigued; even then it was secretly. He took precaution that that circumstance should never be a cause of disgrace to him, as behooves a man of principle; now that he must have a wife, he has set his mind upon a wife.
Dav. While he had the chance and while he was young, he flirted; even then it was done discreetly. He made sure that this wouldn't lead to any embarrassment for him, as a principled man should; now that he has to marry, he's decided he wants a wife.
Sim. He seemed to me to be somewhat melancholy in a slight degree.
Yes. He seemed a bit sad to me.
Dav. Not at all on account of her, but there’s something he blames you for.
Dav. Not because of her at all, but there's something he holds you responsible for.
Sim. What is it, pray?
Sim. What is it, please?
Dav. It’s a childish thing.
Dav. It’s immature.
Sim. What is it?
Sim. What’s going on?
Dav. Nothing at all.
Dav. Not a thing.
Sim. Nay but, tell me what it is.
Yes. No, really, tell me what it is.
Dav. He says that you are making too sparing preparations.
Dav. He says that you are being too stingy with your preparations.
Sim. What, I?
Sim. What? Me?
Dav. You.—He says that there has hardly been fare provided to the amount of ten drachmæ.59—“Does he seem to be bestowing a wife on his son? Which one now, in preference, of my companions shall I invite to the dinner?” And, it must be owned, you really are providing too parsimoniously—I do not commend you.
Dav. You.—He says there’s barely enough food for even ten drachmas.59—“Is he really planning to give his son a wife? Which of my friends should I invite to dinner?” And, I have to admit, you really are being too stingy—I can’t applaud that.
Sim. Hold your tongue.
Sim. Be quiet.
Dav. (aside.) I’ve touched him up.
Dav. (aside.) I’ve fixed him up.
Sim. I’ll see that these things are properly done. (Davus goes into the house.) What’s the meaning of this? What does this old rogue mean? But if there’s any knavery here, why, he’s sure to be the source of the mischief.
Yep. I'll make sure these things get done right. (Davus goes into the house.) What’s going on here? What does this old trickster mean? But if there's any trouble, he's definitely behind it.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Simo and Davus from the house of the former. Mysis and Lesbia are coming toward the house of Glycerium.
Enter Simo and Davus from the house of the former. Mysis shrimp and Lesbia are coming toward the house of Glycerin.
Mys. (not seeing Simo and Davus.) Upon my faith, the fact is really as you mentioned, Lesbia, you can hardly find a man constant to a woman.
Mister. (not seeing Simo and Davus.) Honestly, Lesbia, you’re right; it’s tough to find a guy who’s loyal to one woman.
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Sim. (apart to Davus.) This maid-servant comes from the Andrian.
Yeah. (aside to Davus.) This maid comes from Andria.
Dav. (apart to Simo.) What do you say?
Dav. (aside to Simo.) What do you think?
Sim. (apart to Davus.) It is so.
It is so.
Mys. But this Pamphilas——
Mys. But this Pamphilas—
Sim. (apart to Davus.) What is she saying?
Yes. (aside to Davus.) What is she talking about?
Mys. Has proved his constancy.
Mys. Has shown his loyalty.
Sim. (apart.) Hah!
Sim. (apart.) Haha!
Dav. (apart to himself.) I wish that either he were deaf, or she struck dumb.
Dav. (to himself.) I wish he were either deaf or she couldn't speak.
Mys. For the child she brings forth, he has ordered to be brought up.
Ms. He has ordered that the child she gives birth to be raised.
Sim. (apart.) O Jupiter! What do I hear! It’s all over, if indeed this woman speaks the truth.
Yep. (apart.) Oh God! What am I hearing! It’s all over if this woman is telling the truth.
Les. You mention a good disposition on the part of the young man.
Les. You bring up a good attitude from the young man.
Mys. A most excellent one. But follow me in-doors, that you mayn’t keep her waiting.
Ms. A really great one. But come inside with me, so you don't keep her waiting.
Les. I’ll follow.
Les. I'm in.
Mysis and Lesbia go into Glycerium’s house.
Mysis and Lesbia enter Glycerium's house.
Scene II.
Simo and Davus.
Simo and Davus.
Dav. (aside.) What remedy now shall I find for this mishap?
Dav. (aside.) What solution can I find for this mess?
Sim. (to himself aloud.) What does this mean? Is he so infatuated? The child of a foreign woman? Now I understand; ah! scarcely even at last, in my stupidity, have I found it out.
Yep. (to himself aloud.) What does this mean? Is he really that obsessed? The child of a foreign woman? Now I get it; ah! I can hardly believe it took me this long, in my ignorance, to figure it out.
Dav. (aside to himself.) What does he say he has found out?
Dav. (aside to himself.) What does he say he discovered?
Sim. (aside.) This piece of knavery is being now for the first time palmed upon me by this fellow; they are pretending that she’s in labor, in order that they may alarm Chremes.
Yep. (aside.) This trick is being pulled on me for the first time by this guy; they’re pretending she’s in labor to freak out Chremes.
Gly. (exclaiming from within her house.) Juno Lucina,60 grant me thine aid, save me, I do entreat thee!
Gly. (exclaiming from within her house.) Juno Lucina, please grant me your help, I beg you!
Sim. Whew! so sudden? What nonsense! As soon 31 as she has heard that I’m standing before the door, she makes all haste. These incidents, Davus, have not been quite happily adapted by you as to the points of time.
Yes. Whoa! That was fast! What a joke! As soon 31 as she hears I’m at the door, she rushes right over. These incidents, Davus, haven’t been timed very well on your part.
Dav. By me?
Dav. Me?
Sim. Are your scholars forgetful?61
Sim. Are your scholars absent-minded? __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Dav. I don’t know what you are talking about.
Dav. I have no idea what you're talking about.
Sim. (aside.) If he at the real marriage of my son had taken me off my guard, what sport he would have made of me. Now it is at his own risk; I’m sailing in harbor.
Yup. (aside.) If he had caught me off guard at the real wedding of my son, he would have had a field day with me. Now it’s on him; I’m safe in harbor.
Scene III.
Re-enter Lesbia from the house of Glycerium.
Re-enter Lesbia from Glycerium's house.
Les. (speaking to Archylis at the door, and not seeing Simo and Davus.) As yet, Archylis, all the customary symptoms which ought to exist toward recovery, I perceive in her. Now, in the first place, take care and let her bathe;62 then, after that, what I ordered to be given her to drink, and as much as I prescribed, do you administer: presently I will return hither. (To herself aloud.) By all that’s holy, a fine boy has been born to Pamphilus. I pray the Gods that he may survive, since the father himself is of a good disposition, and since he has hesitated to do an injustice to this most excellent young woman.
Les. (speaking to Archylis at the door, and not seeing Simo and Davus.) So far, Archylis, I see all the usual signs of recovery in her. First, make sure she takes a bath; 62 then, after that, please give her the drink I prescribed, and exactly the amount I specified. I’ll be back soon. (To herself aloud.) By all that’s holy, a fine boy has been born to Pamphilus. I pray the Gods that he survives, since the father is a good guy and has hesitated to do anything unfair to this wonderful young woman.
Exit.
Log out.
Scene IV.
Simo and Davus.
Simo and Davus.
Sim. Even this, who is there that knows you that would not believe that it originated in you?
Yep. Even this, who knows you well enough that wouldn’t think it came from you?
Dav. Why, what is this?
Dav. What’s going on here?
Sim. She didn’t order in their presence what was requisite to be done for the woman lying in; but after she has come out, she bawls from the street to those who are in the house. O Davus, am I thus trifled with by you? Or pray, do I seem to you so very well suited to be thus openly imposed upon 32 by your tricks? At all events it should have been with precaution; that at least I might have seemed to be feared if I should detect it.
Yep. She didn’t ask for what needed to be done for the woman in labor while they were present, but once she stepped outside, she shouted from the street to those in the house. Oh Davus, are you really messing with me like this? Or do I seem so naïve that you can just play your tricks on me like this? Either way, it should have been done cautiously; at least then I would have seemed someone to be wary of if I caught on. 32
Dav. (aside.) Assuredly, upon my faith, it’s he that’s now deceiving himself, not I.
Dav. (aside.) Honestly, I swear, it’s him who’s deceiving himself right now, not me.
Sim. I gave you warning, I forbade you with threats to do it. Have you been awed? What has it availed? Am I to believe you now in this, that this woman has had a child by Pamphilus?
Yep. I warned you, and I threatened you not to do it. Were you scared? What good has it done? Should I really believe you now that this woman has had a child with Pamphilus?
Dav. (aside.) I understand where he’s mistaken; and I see what I must do.
Dav. (aside.) I see where he went wrong; and I know what I need to do.
Sim. Why are you silent?
Sim. Why aren't you talking?
Dav. What would you believe? As though word had not been brought you that thus it would happen.
Dav. What do you think? As if you hadn't been told that this would happen.
Sim. Any word brought to me?
Sim. Any news for me?
Dav. Come now, did you of your own accord perceive that this was counterfeited?
Dav. Come on, did you realize on your own that this was fake?
Sim. I am being trifled with.
Sim. I'm being messed with.
Dav. Word has been brought you; for otherwise how could this suspicion have occurred to you?
Dav. You've been informed; otherwise, how could this suspicion have come to you?
Sim. How? Because I knew you.
Sim. How? Because I know you.
Dav. As though you meant to say that this has been done by my contrivance.
Dav. As if you’re trying to say that I orchestrated this.
Sim. Why, I’m sure of it, to a certainty.
Sim. I'm totally sure of it.
Dav. Not yet even do you know me sufficiently, Simo, what sort of person I am.
Dav. You still don't really know what kind of person I am, Simo.
Sim. I, not know you!
Sim. I don’t know you!
Dav. But if I begin to tell you any thing, at once you think that deceit is being practiced upon you in guile; therefore, upon my faith, I don’t dare now even to whisper.
Dav. But if I start to tell you anything, you immediately think someone is trying to trick you; so, honestly, I don’t even dare to say a word now.
Sim. This one thing I am sure of, that no person has been delivered here. (Pointing to Glycerium’s house.)
Yes. I know this for sure, that no one has been brought here. (Pointing to Glycerin's house.)
Dav. You have discovered that? Still, not a bit the less will they presently be laying the child63 here before the door. Of this, then, I now warn you, master, that it will happen, 33 that you may be aware of it. Don’t you hereafter be saying that this was done through the advice or artifices of Davus. I wish this suspicion of yours to be entirely removed from myself.
Dav. You found out that? Still, they will soon be laying the child63 right here in front of the door. I'm warning you now, master, so you know it’s coming. Don't say later that this was because of Davus's advice or tricks. I want you to completely get rid of that suspicion about me. 33
Sim. How do you know that?
Sim. How did you find out?
Dav. I’ve heard so, and I believe it: many things combine for me to form this conjecture. In the first place then, she declared that she was pregnant by Pamphilus; that has been proved to be false.64 Now, when she sees that preparations are being made for the wedding at our house, the maid-servant is directly sent to fetch the midwife to her, and to bring a child at the same time.65 Unless it is managed for you to see the child, the marriage will not be at all impeded.
Dav. I’ve heard that too, and I believe it: there are many reasons that lead me to this conclusion. First of all, she claimed that she was pregnant by Pamphilus, but that has been proven to be false.64 Now, when she sees that preparations are underway for the wedding at our place, she has the maid sent to get the midwife for her and to bring a baby at the same time.65 Unless you get to see the child, the marriage won’t be affected at all.
Sim. What do you say to this? When you perceived that they were adopting this plan, why didn’t you tell Pamphilus immediately?
Yes. What do you think about this? When you noticed they were going with this plan, why didn’t you tell Pamphilus right away?
Dav. Why, who has induced him to leave her, but myself? For, indeed, we all know how desperately he loved her. Now he wishes for a wife. In fine, do you intrust me with that affair; proceed however, as before, to celebrate these nuptials, just as you are doing, and I trust that the Gods will prosper this matter.
Dav. So, who's got him to leave her if not me? We all know how deeply he loved her. Now he wants a wife. In short, let me handle this situation; continue with the wedding preparations just like you're doing, and I believe the Gods will support this.
Sim. Very well; be off in-doors; wait for me there, and get ready what’s necessary to be prepared. (Davus goes into the house.) He hasn’t prevailed upon me even now altogether to believe these things, and I don’t know whether what he has said is all true; but I deem it of little moment; this is of far greater importance to me—that my son himself has promised me. Now I’ll go and find Chremes; I’ll ask him for a wife for my son; if I obtain my request, at what other time rather than to-day should I prefer these nuptials taking place? For as my son has promised, I have no doubt but that if he should prove unwilling, I can fairly compel him. And look! here’s Chremes himself, just at the very time.
Yes. Alright; go inside; wait for me there and prepare what’s needed. (Davus goes into the house.) He hasn’t managed to convince me at all to believe these things, and I’m not sure if everything he said is true; but I think it’s not that important. What matters much more to me is that my son himself has made a promise. Now I’ll go find Chremes; I’ll ask him for a wife for my son. If I get what I want, what better time than today for these weddings to happen? Because my son has promised, I’m confident that if he seems reluctant, I can easily persuade him. And look! Here comes Chremes, right on time.
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Scene V.
Enter Chremes.
Enter Chremes.
Sim. I greet you, Chremes.
Hi, Chremes.
Chrem. O, you are the very person I was looking for.
Chrem. Oh, you’re exactly the person I was looking for.
Sim. And I for you.
Sim. And I for you.
Chrem. You meet me at a welcome moment. Some persons have been to me, to say that they had heard from you, that my daughter was to be married to your son to-day; I’ve come to see whether they are out of their senses or you.
Chrem. I'm glad to see you right now. Some people have come to me saying they've heard from you that my daughter is supposed to marry your son today; I’ve come to check if they’ve lost their minds or if it’s you who has.
Sim. Listen; in a few words you shall learn both what I want of you, and what you seek to know.
Yep. Listen; in a few words, you'll find out both what I need from you and what you want to know.
Chrem. I am listening; say what you wish.
Chrem. I'm listening; go ahead and say what you want.
Sim. By the Gods, I do entreat you, Chremes, and by our friendship, which, commencing with our infancy, has grown up with our years, and by your only daughter and by my own son (of preserving whom the entire power lies with you), that you will assist me in this matter; and that, just as this marriage was about to be celebrated, it may be celebrated.
Yep. By the Gods, I really urge you, Chremes, and because of our friendship, which started in our childhood and has grown with us over the years, and for the sake of your only daughter and my own son (whose well-being is entirely in your hands), please help me with this; and just as this marriage was about to happen, let it happen.
Chrem. O, don’t importune me; as though you needed to obtain this of me by entreaty. Do you suppose I am different now from what I was formerly, when I promised her? If it is for the advantage of them both that it should take place, order her to be sent for. But if from this course there would result more harm than advantage for each, this I do beg of you, that you will consult for their common good, as though she were your own daughter, and I the father of Pamphilus.
Chrem. Oh, don’t beg me; as if you need to plead with me for this. Do you think I'm any different now from when I made that promise? If it benefits both of them for this to happen, have her called in. But if this leads to more harm than good for either of them, I urge you to think about what's best for them both, as if she were your own daughter and I the father of Pamphilus.
Sim. Nay, so I intend, and so I wish it to be, Chremes; and I would not ask it of you, did not the occasion itself require it.
Yes. No, that's exactly what I mean, and I hope it happens, Chremes; I wouldn't ask you if the situation didn't call for it.
Chrem. What is the matter?
Chrem. What's the problem?
Sim. There is a quarrel between Glycerium and my son.
Yep. There's a fight going on between Glycerium and my son.
Chrem. (ironically) I hear you.
Chrem. (ironically) I hear you.
Sim. So much so, that I’m in hopes they may be separated.
Yep. I'm really hoping they might break up.
Chrem. Nonsense!
Chrem. Nonsense!
Sim. It really is so.
Sim. It really is.
Chrem. After this fashion, i’faith, I tell you, “the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.”
Chrem. In this way, I truly say to you, “the arguments of lovers are a way to rekindle love.”
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Sim. Well—this I beg of you, that we may prevent it. While an opportunity offers, and while his passion is cooled by affronts, before the wiles of these women and their tears, craftily feigned, bring back his love-sick mind to compassion, let us give him a wife. I trust, Chremes, that, when attached by intimacy and a respectable marriage, he will easily extricate himself from these evils.
Yes. Look—I ask you this: let’s stop it from happening. While we have the chance, and while he’s not caught up in his feelings due to the insults he's faced, before those women use their fake tears to win him back, let’s find him a wife. I believe, Chremes, that once he’s in a close relationship and a solid marriage, he’ll be able to pull himself away from these troubles easily.
Chrem. So it appears to you; but I do not think66 that either he can possibly hold to her with constancy, or that I can put up with it if he does not.
Chrem. It seems that way to you, but I don't believe that he can be loyal to her, or that I can tolerate it if he isn't.
Sim. How then can you be sure of that, unless you make the experiment?
Sure. How can you be sure of that unless you try it out?
Chrem. But for that experiment to be made upon a daughter is a serious thing——
Chrem. But doing that experiment on a daughter is a big deal——
Sim. Why look, all the inconvenience in fine amounts to this—possibly, which may the Gods forfend, a separation may take place. But if he is reformed, see how many are the advantages: in the first place, you will have restored a son to your friend; you will obtain a sure son-in-law67 for yourself, and a husband for your daughter.
Yep. Look, all this fuss really comes down to one thing—let's hope it doesn't happen, but there might be a separation. However, if he gets his act together, just think of all the benefits: first, you'll have given your friend back his son; you'll gain a reliable son-in-law for yourself, and a husband for your daughter.
Chrem. What is one to say to all this? If you feel persuaded that this is beneficial, I don’t wish that any advantage should be denied you.
Chrem. What can you say to all this? If you're convinced that this is helpful, I don't want you to miss out on any benefits.
Sim. With good reason, Chremes, have I always considered you a most valuable friend.
Yes. For good reason, Chremes, I've always thought of you as a very valuable friend.
Chrem. But how say you——?
Chrem. But what do you mean?
Sim. What?
Sim. Huh?
Chrem. How do you know that they are now at variance?
Chrem. How do you know they’re not getting along right now?
Sim. Davus himself, who is privy to all their plans, has told me so; and he advises me to expedite the match as fast as I can. Do you think he would do so, unless he was aware that my son desired it? You yourself as well shall presently hear what he says. (Goes to the door of his house and calls.) 36 Halloo there! Call Davus out here. Look, here he is; I see him just coming out.
Yep. Davus himself, who knows all their plans, told me that, and he suggests I should speed up the match as quickly as possible. Do you think he would say that if he didn’t know my son wanted it? You’ll hear what he has to say in a moment. (Goes to the door of his house and calls.) 36 Hey! Bring Davus out here. Look, there he is; I see him just coming out.
Scene VI.
Enter Davus from the house.
Enter Davus from the house.
Dav. I was coming to you.
Dav. I was on my way to you.
Sim. Why, what’s the matter?
Sim. What’s wrong?
Dav. Why isn’t the bride sent for?68 It’s now growing late in the day.
Dav. Why hasn't the bride been called for?68 It's getting late in the day.
Sim. Do you hear me? I’ve been for some time not a little apprehensive of you, Davus, lest you should do that which the common class of servants is in the habit of doing, namely, impose upon me by your artifices; because my son is engaged in an amour.
Yep. Can you hear me? I’ve been a bit worried about you, Davus, that you might do what most servants tend to do, which is to trick me with your schemes; because my son is involved in a romantic affair.
Dav. What, I do that?
Dav. What, I did that?
Sim. I fancied so; and therefore, fearing that, I concealed from you what I shall now mention.
Yes. I thought so; and because of that fear, I hid from you what I’m about to mention now.
Dav. What?
Dav. Huh?
Sim. You shall know; for now I almost feel confidence in you.
Yep. You should know; I’m starting to feel confident in you.
Dav. Have you found out at last what sort of a person I am?
Dav. Have you finally figured out what kind of person I am?
Sim. The marriage was not to have taken place.
Yep. The marriage wasn’t supposed to happen.
Dav. How? Not to have taken place?
Dav. How? Not happened?
Sim. But I was making pretense, that I might test you all.
Yep. But I was pretending so that I could test you all.
Dav. (affecting surprise.) What is it you tell me?
Dav. (pretending to be surprised.) What are you telling me?
Sim. Such is the fact.
Sim. That's the truth.
Dav. Only see! I was not able to discover that. Dear me! what a cunning contrivance!
Dav. Just look! I couldn't figure that out. Wow! What a clever trick!
Sim. Listen to this. Just as I ordered you to go from here into the house, he (pointing to Chremes) most opportunely met me.
Yep. Check this out. Right after I told you to go into the house, he (pointing to Chremes) just happened to run into me.
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37
Dav. (aside.) Ha! Are we undone, then?
Dav. (aside.) Ha! Are we finished, then?
Sim. I told him what you just now told me.
Yep. I told him what you just told me.
Dav. (aside.) Why, what am I to hear?
Dav. (aside.) What am I about to hear?
Sim. I begged him to give his daughter, and with difficulty I prevailed upon him.
Yep. I asked him to give me his daughter, and after some effort, I finally convinced him.
Dav. (aside.) Utterly ruined!
Dav. (aside.) Completely ruined!
Sim. (overhearing him speaking.) Eh—What was it you said?
Yep. (overhearing him speaking.) Huh—What did you just say?
Dav. Extremely well done, I say.
Dav. Super well done, I say.
Sim. There’s no delay on his part now.
Sim. He's going all out now.
Chrem. I’ll go home at once; I’ll tell her to make due preparation, and bring back word here.
Chrem. I’ll go home right away; I’ll tell her to get everything ready and bring back news here.
Exit.
Log out.
Sim. Now I do entreat you, Davus, since you by yourself have brought about this marriage for me——
Yep. Now I’m asking you, Davus, since you’ve arranged this marriage for me all by yourself——
Dav. I myself, indeed!69
Dav. Me, for sure!__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Sim. Do your best still to reform my son.
Yep. Please keep trying to help my son change for the better.
Dav. Troth, I’ll do it with all due care.
Dav. Honestly, I'll do it with all the care it deserves.
Sim. Do it now, while his mind is agitated.
Yes. Do it now, while he's feeling upset.
Dav. You may be at ease.
Dav. You can relax.
Sim. Come then; where is he just now?
Yes. So, where is he right now?
Dav. A wonder if he isn’t at home.
Dav. I wonder if he’s not home.
Sim. I’ll go to him; and what I’ve been telling you, I’ll tell him as well.
Yep. I’ll go talk to him, and I’ll say the same things I’ve been telling you.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
Scene VII.
Davus alone.
Davus is alone.
Dav. (to himself.) I’m a lost man! What reason is there why I shouldn’t take my departure straightway hence for the mill? There’s no room left for supplicating; I’ve upset every thing now; I’ve deceived my master; I’ve plunged my master’s son into a marriage; I’ve been the cause of its taking place this very day, without his hoping for it, and against the wish of Pamphilus. Here’s cleverness for you! But, if I had kept myself quiet, no mischief would have happened. (Starting.) But see, I espy him; I’m utterly undone! Would that there were some spot here for me, from which I might this instant pitch myself headlong!
Dav. (to himself.) I’m a lost man! Why shouldn’t I just leave for the mill right now? There’s no point in begging anymore; I’ve ruined everything. I’ve deceived my boss; I’ve thrown my boss’s son into a marriage; I made it happen today, without him expecting it, and against Pamphilus’s wishes. What a smart move that was! But if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would have happened. (Starting.) But wait, I see him; I'm totally finished! I wish there was some place nearby where I could just throw myself off right now!
Stands apart.
Stands out.
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Scene VIII.
Enter Pamphilus in haste from Simo’s house.
Enter Pamphilus quickly from Simo’s house.
Pam. Where is he? The villain, who this day—I’m ruined; and I confess that this has justly befallen me, for being such a dolt, so devoid of sense; that I should have intrusted my fortunes to a frivolous slave!70 I am suffering the reward of my folly; still he shall never get off from me unpunished for this.
Pam. Where is he? The villain, who on this day—I’m ruined; and I admit that I deserve this, for being such a fool, so lacking in judgment; that I should have trusted my fate to a worthless servant!70 I am facing the consequences of my foolishness; still, he will never escape from me unpunished for this.
Dav. (apart.) I’m quite sure that I shall be safe in future, if for the present I get clear of this mishap.
Dav. (aside.) I’m pretty sure that I'll be safe going forward if I can just get past this mess right now.
Pam. But what now am I to say to my father? Am I to deny that I am ready, who have just promised to marry? With what effrontery could I presume to do that? I know not what to do with myself.
Pam. But what am I supposed to say to my dad now? Should I deny that I'm ready, after just promising to get married? How could I even think of doing that? I don't know what to do with myself.
Dav. (apart.) Nor I with myself, and yet I’m giving all due attention to it. I’ll tell him that I will devise something, in order that I may procure some respite in this dilemma.
Dav. (aside.) Not even with myself, and yet I’m fully focused on it. I'll let him know that I’ll come up with something so I can get a break from this situation.
Pam. (Catching sight of him.) Oho!
Pam. (Noticing him.) Oh!
Dav. (apart.) I’m seen.
I’m visible.
Pam. (sneeringly.) How now, good sir, what are you about? Do you see how dreadfully I am hampered by your devices?
Pam. (sneeringly.) What’s up, good sir? Do you realize how badly your tricks are holding me back?
Dav. Still, I’ll soon extricate you.
Dav. Still, I’ll free you soon.
Pam. You, extricate me?
Pam. Can you get me out?
Dav. Assuredly, Pamphilus.
Dav. Definitely, Pamphilus.
Pam. As you have just done, I suppose.
Pam. As you just did, I suppose.
Dav. Why no, better, I trust.
Dav. Why not, better yet, I trust.
Pam. What, am I to believe you, you scoundrel?71 You, indeed, make good a matter that’s all embarrassment and 39 ruin! Just see, in whom I’ve been placing reliance—you who this day from a most happy state have been and plunged me into a marriage. Didn’t I say that this would be the case?
Pam. What, should I trust you, you crook?71 You really make a mess of everything that’s just full of shame and disaster! Look at who I’ve been relying on—you, who today have taken me from a joyful situation and dragged me into a marriage. Didn’t I say this would happen? 39
Dav. You did say so.
Dav. You did say that.
Pam. What do you deserve?72
Pam. What do you deserve? __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Dav. The cross.73 But allow me a little time to recover myself; I’ll soon hit upon something.
Dav. The cross.73 But give me a moment to gather my thoughts; I’ll figure something out soon.
Pam. Ah me! not to have the leisure to inflict punishment upon you as I desire! for the present conjuncture warns me to take precautions for myself, not to be taking vengeance on you.
Pam. Oh, I wish I had the time to punish you like I want! But right now, I need to look out for myself instead of getting back at you.
Exeunt.
Exit.
ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Enter Charinus, wringing his hands.
Enter Charinus, nervously wringing his hands.
Char. (to himself.) Is this to be believed or spoken of; that malice so great could be inborn in any one as to exult at misfortunes, and to derive advantage from the distresses of another! Oh, is this true? Assuredly, that is the most dangerous class of men, in whom there is only a slight degree of hesitation at refusing; afterward, when the time arrives for fulfilling their promises, then, obliged, of necessity they discover themselves. They are afraid, and yet the circumstances74 compel them to refuse. Then, in that case, their very insolent remark is, “Who are you? What are you to me? What should I give up to you what’s my own? 40 Look you, I am the most concerned in my own interests.”75 But if you inquire where is honor, they are not ashamed.76 Here, where there is occasion, they are not afraid; there, where there is no occasion, they are afraid. But what am I to do? Ought I not to go to him, and reason with him upon this outrage, and heap many an invective upon him? Yet some one may say, “you will avail nothing.” Nothing? At least I shall have vexed him, and have given vent to my own feelings.
Char. (to himself.) Can this really be true; that someone could be so malicious as to take pleasure in the misfortunes of others and benefit from their suffering? Oh, is this real? Surely, the most dangerous people are those who only hesitate slightly before refusing; when the moment comes to keep their promises, they inevitably reveal their true selves. They are afraid, yet the circumstances compel them to say no. In that situation, their arrogant response is, “Who are you? What do you mean to me? Why should I give you anything that belongs to me? Look, I'm most concerned about my own interests.” 40 But if you ask them where their honor is, they feel no shame. Here, where it matters, they are fearless; there, where it doesn't matter, they are scared. But what should I do? Shouldn't I confront him and address this outrage, pouring out my anger at him? Yet someone might say, “It won't change anything.” Nothing? At least I’ll have annoyed him and expressed my own feelings.
Scene II.
Enter Pamphilus and Davus.
Enter Pamphilus and Davus.
Pam. Charinus, unintentionally I have ruined both myself and you, unless the Gods in some way befriend us.
Pam. Charinus, I've accidentally messed things up for both of us, unless the Gods somehow come to our aid.
Char. Unintentionally, is it! An excuse has been discovered at last. You have broken your word.
Char. So, it was unintentional, huh? Finally, an excuse has been found. You've gone back on your promise.
Pam. How so, pray?
Pam. How so, really?
Char. Do you expect to deceive me a second time by these speeches?
Char. Do you really think you can fool me again with these words?
Pam. What does this mean?
Pam. What does this mean?
Char. Since I told you that I loved her, she has become quite pleasing to you. Ah wretched me! to have judged of your disposition from my own.
Char. Ever since I told you that I loved her, she seems to have become quite appealing to you. Oh, how unfortunate I am! to have assumed your feelings based on my own.
Pam. You are mistaken.
Pam. You're mistaken.
Char. Did this pleasure appear to you not to be quite complete, unless you tantalized me in my passion, and lured me on by groundless hopes?—You may take her.
Char. Did this pleasure seem incomplete to you unless you teased me in my desire and led me on with false hopes?—You can take her.
Pam. I, take her? Alas! you know not in what perplexities, to my sorrow, I am involved, and what vast anxieties this executioner of mine (pointing to Davus) has contrived for me by his devices.
Pam. I, take her? Unfortunately, you have no idea what dilemmas I'm facing, and how much stress this executioner of mine (pointing to Davus) has created for me with his schemes.
Char. What is it so wonderful, if he takes example from yourself?
Char. What's so amazing about it if he’s just following your example?
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Pam. You would not say that if you understood either myself or my affection.
Pam. You wouldn't say that if you really understood me or how I feel.
Char. I’m quite aware (ironically); you have just now had a dispute with your father, and he is now angry with you in consequence, and has not been able to-day to prevail upon you to marry her.
Char. I know this all too well (ironically); you just had an argument with your dad, and now he’s mad at you because of it, and he hasn’t been able to convince you to marry her today.
Pam. No, not at all,—as you are not acquainted with my sorrows, these nuptials were not in preparation for me; and no one was thinking at present of giving me a wife.
Pam. No, not at all,—since you don't know my troubles, these weddings weren’t arranged for me; and no one is currently considering giving me a wife.
Char. I am aware; you have been influenced by your own inclination.
Char. I know; you've been swayed by your own preference.
Pam. Hold; you do not yet know all.
Pam. Wait; you don't know everything yet.
Char. For my part, I certainly do know that you are about to marry her.
Char. As for me, I definitely know that you’re about to marry her.
Pam. Why are you torturing me to death? Listen to this. He (pointing to Davus) never ceased to urge me to tell my father that I would marry her; to advise and persuade me, even until he compelled me.
Pam. Why are you torturing me? Listen to this. He (pointing to Davus) never stopped pushing me to tell my dad that I would marry her; he advised and persuaded me, until he finally forced me.
Char. Who was this person?
Char. Who is this person?
Pam. Davus.
Pam. Davus.
Char. Davus! For what reason?
Char. Davus! Why?
Pam. I don’t know; except that I must have been under the displeasure of the Gods, for me to have listened to him.
Pam. I don’t know; except that I must have been out of favor with the Gods to have listened to him.
Char. Is this the fact, Davus?
Is that true, Davus?
Dav. It is the fact.
Dav. That's the truth.
Char. (starting.) Ha! What do you say, you villain? Then may the Gods send you an end worthy of your deeds. Come now, tell me, if all his enemies had wished him to be plunged into a marriage, what advice but this could they have given?
Char. (starting.) Ha! What do you say, you villain? May the Gods grant you an ending that matches your actions. Now, tell me, if all his enemies wanted him trapped in marriage, what advice could they possibly give other than this?
Dav. I have been deceived, but I don’t despair.
Dav. I’ve been tricked, but I’m not losing hope.
Char. (ironically.) I’m sure of that.
Char. (ironically.) I’m sure of it.
Dav. This way it has not succeeded; we’ll try another. Unless, perhaps, you think that because it failed at first, this misfortune can not now possibly be changed for better luck.
Dav. This hasn’t worked out; let’s try something else. Unless, of course, you believe that since it didn’t succeed the first time, this bad luck can’t possibly change for the better now.
Pam. Certainly not; for I quite believe that if you set about it, you will be making two marriages for me out of one.
Pam. Definitely not; I really believe that if you go ahead with it, you’ll create two marriages for me out of one.
Dav. I owe you this, Pamphilus, in respect of my servitude, to strive with hands and feet, night and day; to submit to hazard of my life, to serve you. It is your part, if any thing has fallen out contrary to expectation, to forgive 42 me. What I was contriving has not succeeded; still, I am using all endeavors; or, do you yourself devise something better, and dismiss me.
Dav. I owe you this, Pamphilus, because of my service: to work hard, night and day, and to risk my life to serve you. If anything has happened that you didn't expect, it's your responsibility to forgive me. What I planned hasn't worked out, but I'm doing my best; or you can come up with a better idea and let me go. 42
Pam. I wish to; restore me to the position in which you found me.
Pam. I want you to; bring me back to the place where you found me.
Dav. I’ll do so.
Dav. I’ll totally do that.
Pam. But it must be done directly.
Pam. But it has to be done right away.
Dav. But the door of Glycerium’s house here makes a noise.77
Dav. But the door of Glycerium’s house makes a sound here.77
Pam. That’s nothing to you.
Pam. That’s irrelevant to you.
Dav. (assuming an attitude of meditation.) I’m in search of—
Dav. (taking a contemplative stance.) I’m looking for—
Pam. (ironically.) Dear me, what, now at last?
Pam. (ironically.) Oh my, what is it now?
Dav. Presently I’ll give you what I’ve hit upon.
Dav. Right now, I'll share what I've discovered.
Scene III.
Enter Mysis from the house of Glycerium.
Enter Mysis from the house of Glycerium.
Mys. (calling at the door to Glycerium within.) Now, wherever he is, I’ll take care that your own Pamphilus shall be found for you, and brought to you by me; do you only, my life, cease to vex yourself.
Ms. (calling at the door to Glycerin inside.) Now, wherever he is, I’ll make sure your own Pamphilus is found and brought to you by me; just please, my love, stop worrying.
Pam. Mysis.
Pam. Mysis.
Mys. (turning round.) Who is it? Why, Pamphilus, you do present yourself opportunely to me. My mistress charged me to beg of you, if you love her, to come to her directly; she says she wishes to see you.
Ms. (turning around.) Who is it? Oh, Pamphilus, you're showing up at just the right time. My mistress asked me to tell you that if you care about her, you should come see her right away; she wants to see you.
Pam. (aside.) Alas! I am undone; this dilemma grows apace! (To Davus.) For me and her, unfortunate persons, now to be tortured this way through your means; for I am sent for, because she has discovered that my marriage is in preparation.
Pam. (aside.) Oh no! I'm in real trouble; this situation is getting worse! (To Davus.) It’s so unfair for me and her, both stuck in this mess because of you; I’ve been summoned because she found out that I’m getting married.
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Char. From which, indeed, how easily a respite could have been obtained, if he (pointing to Davus) had kept himself quiet.
Char. Honestly, a break could have been easily achieved if he (pointing to Davus) had just stayed quiet.
Dav. (ironically to Charinus.) Do proceed; if he isn’t sufficiently angry of his own accord, do you irritate him.
Dav. (ironically to Charinus.) Go ahead; if he’s not angry enough on his own, go ahead and annoy him.
Mys. (to Pamphilus.) Aye faith, that is the case; and for that reason, poor thing, she is now in distress.
Mister. (to Pamphilus.) Yes, that's true; and because of that, the poor thing is now suffering.
Pam. Mysis, I swear by all the Gods that I will never forsake her; not if I were to know that all men would be my enemies in consequence. Her have I chosen for mine; she has fallen to my lot; our feelings are congenial; farewell they, who wish for a separation between us; nothing but Death separates her from me.
Pam. Mysis, I swear by all the Gods that I will never abandon her; not even if I knew that all men would become my enemies because of it. I have chosen her as mine; she is meant for me; our feelings match perfectly; goodbye to those who want to separate us; nothing but Death will come between her and me.
Mys. I begin to revive.
I’m starting to come back.
Pam. Not the responses of Apollo are more true than this. If it can possibly be contrived that my father may not believe that this marriage has been broken off through me, I could wish it. But if that can not be, I will do that which is easily effected, for him to believe that through me it has been caused. What do you think of me?
Pam. There’s nothing more truthful than this. If there's any way to convince my father that this marriage wasn't called off because of me, I would want that. But if that's not possible, I'll make it easy for him to believe that I caused it. What do you think of me?
Char. That you are as unhappy as myself.
Char. That you are as unhappy as I am.
Dav. (placing his finger on his forehead.) I’m contriving an expedient.
Dav. (placing his finger on his forehead.) I'm coming up with a solution.
Char. You are a clever hand; if you do set about any thing.
Character. You're pretty clever; if you actually decide to do something.
Dav. Assuredly, I’ll manage this for you.
Dav. Definitely, I'll take care of this for you.
Pam. There’s need of it now.
Pam. We need it now.
Dav. But I’ve got it now.
Dav. But I've got it now.
Char. What is it?
What is it?
Dav. For him (pointing to Pamphilus) I’ve got it, not for you, don’t mistake.
Dav. I’ve got it for him (pointing to Pamphilus), not for you. Don’t get that confused.
Char. I’m quite satisfied.
Char. I'm really satisfied.
Pam. What will you do? Tell me.
Pam. What are you going to do? Let me know.
Dav. I’m afraid that this day won’t be long enough for me to execute it, so don’t suppose that I’ve now got leisure for relating it; do you betake yourself off at once, for you are a hinderance to me.
Dav. I’m worried that I won’t have enough time today to carry it out, so don’t think I have time to share it; you should leave right away, because you’re in my way.
Pam. I’ll go and see her.
Pam. I’ll go visit her.
Goes into the house of Glycerium.
Enters Glycerium's house.
Dav. (to Charinus.) What are you going to do? Whither are you going from here?
Dav. (to Charinus.) What are you planning to do? Where are you going from here?
Char. Do you wish me to tell you the truth?
Char. Do you want me to be honest with you?
Dav. No, not at all; (aside) he’s making the beginning of a long story for me.
Dav. No, not at all; (aside) he’s starting a long story for me.
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Char. What will become of me?
What will happen to me?
Dav. Come now, you unreasonable person, are you not satisfied that I give you a little respite, by putting off his marriage?
Dav. Come on, you unreasonable person, aren’t you happy that I’m giving you a little break by delaying his marriage?
Char. But yet, Davus—
But still, Davus—
Dav. What then?
Dav. What's next?
Char. That I may marry her—
That I can marry her—
Dav. Absurd.
Dav. Ridiculous.
Char. Be sure to come hither (pointing in the direction of his house) to my house, if you can effect any thing.
Char. Make sure to come over here (pointing in the direction of his house) to my place, if you can make anything happen.
Dav. Why should I come? I can do nothing for you.
Dav. Why should I come? I can't do anything for you.
Char. But still, if any thing—
But still, if anything—
Dav. Well, well, I’ll come.
Dav. Well, well, I’ll join.
Char. If you can; I shall be at home.
Character. If you can, I'll be at home.
Exit.
Log out.
Scene IV.
Mysis and Davus.
Mysis and Davus.
Dav. Do you, Mysis, remain here a little while, until I come out.
Dav. Will you, Mysis, stay here for a bit until I come out?
Mys. For what reason?
Mys. Why?
Dav. There’s a necessity for so doing.
Dav. We need to do that.
Mys. Make haste.
Mys. Hurry up.
Dav. I’ll be here this moment, I tell you.
Dav. I’ll be right here, I promise you.
He goes into the house of Glycerium.
He enters Glycerium's house.
Scene V.
Mysis alone.
Mysis by themselves.
Mys. (to herself.) That nothing can be secure to any one! Ye Gods, by our trust in you! I used to make sure that this Pamphilus was a supreme blessing for my mistress; a friend, a protector, a husband secured under every circumstance; yet what anguish is she, poor thing, now suffering through him? Clearly there’s more trouble for her now than there was happiness formerly. But Davus is coming out.
Ms. (to herself.) Nothing can ever be completely secure for anyone! Oh my Gods, our faith in you! I used to believe that this Pamphilus was a perfect blessing for my mistress; a friend, a protector, a husband she could count on no matter what; yet look at the pain she, poor thing, is enduring because of him now. Clearly, there’s more hardship for her now than there was happiness before. But here comes Davus.
Scene VI.
Enter Davus from the house of Glycerium with the child.
Enter Davus from the house of Glycerin with the kid.
Mys. My good sir, prithee, what is that? Whither are you carrying the child?
Ms. My good sir, please, what is that? Where are you taking the child?
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Dav. Mysis, I now stand in need of your cunning being brought into play in this matter, and of your address.
Dav. Mysis, I now need your cleverness and skill to help with this situation.
Mys. Why, what are you going to do?
Ms. What are you planning to do?
Dav. (holding out the child.) Take it from me directly, and lay it down before our door.
Dav. (holding out the child.) Take it from me directly and place it in front of our door.
Mys. Prithee, on the ground?
Mys. Please, on the ground?
Mys. Why don’t you do it yourself?
Ms. Why don't you just do it yourself?
Dav. That if perchance I should have to swear to my master that I did not place it there, I may be enabled to do so with a clear conscience.
Dav. So that if I ever need to swear to my boss that I didn’t put it there, I can do so with a clear conscience.
Mys. I understand; have these new scruples only just now occurred to you, pray?
Ms. I get it; have you only just started to have these new doubts, please?
Dav. Bestir yourself quickly, that you may learn what I’m going to do next. (Mysis lays the child at Simo’s door.) Oh Jupiter!
Dav. Hurry up so you can see what I'm going to do next. (Mysis shrimp places the child at Simo's door.) Oh my gosh!
Mys. (starting up.) What’s the matter?
Mys. (starting up.) What’s wrong?
Dav. The father of the intended bride is coming in the middle of it all. The plan which I had first purposed I now give up.80
Dav. The father of the intended bride is coming in the middle of it all. The plan that I originally intended to follow, I now abandon.80
Mys. I don’t understand what you are talking about.
Ms. I don’t get what you’re saying.
Dav. I’ll pretend too that I’ve come in this direction from the right. Do you take care to help out the conversation by your words, whenever there’s necessity.81
Dav. I’ll also pretend that I came this way from the right. Do you make sure to contribute to the conversation with your words whenever it's needed? 81
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Mys. I don’t at all comprehend what you are about; but if there’s any thing in which you have need of my assistance, as you understand the best, I’ll stay, that I mayn’t in any way impede your success.
Ms. I really don’t get what you’re doing; but if there’s anything you need my help with, since you know best, I’ll stick around so I don’t interfere with your success.
Davus retires out of sight.
Davus retires from view.
Scene VII.
Enter Chremes on the other side of the stage, going toward the house of Simo.
Enter Chremes on the other side of the stage, heading toward the house of Simo.
Chrem. (to himself.) After having provided the things necessary for my daughter’s nuptials, I’m returning, that I may request her to be sent for. (Seeing the child.) But what’s this? I’faith, it’s a child. (Addressing Mysis.) Woman, have you laid that here (pointing to the child)?
Chrem. (to himself.) After getting everything ready for my daughter's wedding, I'm heading back to ask for her to be called. (Seeing the child.) But what’s this? Wow, it’s a child. (Addressing Mysis shrimp.) Woman, did you leave that here (pointing to the child)?
Mys. (aside, looking out for Davus.) Where is he?
Mister. (aside, looking out for Davus.) Where is he?
Chrem. Don’t you answer me?
Chrem. Aren’t you going to respond?
Mys. (looking about, to herself.) He isn’t any where to be seen. Woe to wretched me! the fellow has left me and is off.
Mrs. (looking around, to herself.) He’s nowhere to be found. Poor me! That guy has left me and is gone.
Dav. (coming forward and pretending not to see them.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! what a crowd there is in the Forum! What a lot of people are squabbling there! (Aloud.) Then provisions are so dear. (Aside.) What to say besides, I don’t know.
Dav. (coming forward and pretending not to see them.) Oh my goodness, I can’t believe how many people are in the Forum! There are so many people arguing over there! (Aloud.) Then food prices are so high. (Aside.) What else to say, I have no idea.
Chremes passes by Mysis, and goes to a distance at the back of the stage.
Chremes walks past Mysis shrimp and moves to a spot at the back of the stage.
Mys. Pray, why did you leave me here alone?
Ms. Please, why did you leave me here by myself?
Dav. (pretending to start on seeing the child.) Ha! what story is this? How now, Mysis, whence comes this child? Who has brought it here?
Dav. (pretending to start on seeing the child.) Ha! What’s going on here? So, Mysis, where did this child come from? Who brought it here?
Mys. Are you quite right in your senses, to be asking me that?
Ms. Are you really in your right mind asking me that?
Dav. Whom, then, ought I to ask, as I don’t see any one else here?
Dav. So, who should I ask since I don’t see anyone else around?
Chrem. (apart to himself.) I wonder whence it has come.
Chrem. (to himself.) I wonder where it came from.
Dav. Are you going to tell me what I ask?
Dav. Are you going to tell me what I asked?
Mys. Pshaw!
Mys. Whatever!
Dav. (in a whisper.) Step aside to the right.
Dav. (whispering.) Move over to the right.
They retire on one side.
They retire to one side.
Mys. You are out of your senses; didn’t you your own self?
Ms. You're not thinking straight; didn't you realize that yourself?
Dav. (in a low voice.) Take you care not to utter a single word beyond what I ask you. Why don’t you say aloud whence it comes?
Dav. (in a low voice.) Make sure you only say what I ask you. Why don’t you just say out loud where it comes from?
Mys. (in a loud voice.) From our house.
Mys. (shouting.) From our place.
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Dav. (affecting indignation.) Heyday, indeed! it really is a wonder if a woman, who is a courtesan, acts impudently.
Dav. (putting on an air of outrage.) Wow, seriously! It's actually surprising if a woman who is a courtesan doesn't act shamelessly.
Chrem. (apart.) So far as I can learn, this woman belongs to the Andrian.
Chrem. (aside.) From what I can gather, this woman is from Andros.
Dav. Do we seem to you such very suitable persons for you to be playing tricks with us in this way?
Dav. Do we seem like the right people for you to be messing with like this?
Chrem. (apart.) I came just in time.
Chrem. (apart.) I arrived just in time.
Dav. Make haste then, and take the child away from the door here: (in a low voice) stay there; take care you don’t stir from that spot.
Dav. Hurry up and get the child away from the door: (in a low voice) stay there; make sure you don’t move from that spot.
Mys. (aside.) May the Gods confound you! you do so terrify poor me.
Mister. (aside.) May the Gods mess you up! You really scare me.
Dav. (in a loud voice.) Is it to you I speak or not?
Dav. (raising his voice.) Am I talking to you or not?
Mys. What is it you want?
Mys. What do you want?
Dav. (aloud.) What—do you ask me again? Tell me, whose child have you been laying here? Let me know.
Dav. (aloud.) What—are you asking me again? Tell me, whose child have you been lying here with? Let me know.
Mys. Don’t you know?
Mys. Don't you know?
Dav. (in a low voice.) Have done with what I know; tell me what I ask.
Dav. (quietly.) I've shared what I know; now tell me what I want to know.
Mys. (aloud.) It belongs to your people.
Ms. (aloud.) It belongs to your people.
Dav. (aloud.) Which of our people?
Dav. (aloud.) Which of our people?
Mys. (aloud.) To Pamphilus.
Mys. (speaking.) To Pamphilus.
Dav. (affecting surprise in a loud tone.) How? What—to Pamphilus?
Dav. (feigning surprise in a loud voice.) What? To Pamphilus?
Mys. (aloud.) How now—is it not so?
Mys. (aloud.) So, is it?
Chrem. (apart.) With good reason have I always been averse to this match, it’s clear.
Chrem. (apart.) I have every right to be against this match; it's obvious.
Dav. (calling aloud.) O abominable piece of effrontery!
Dav. (calling out.) O disgusting act of shamelessness!
Mys. Why are you bawling out so?
Mrs. Why are you crying so loudly?
Dav. (aloud.) What, the very one I saw being carried to your house yesterday evening?
Dav. (aloud.) What, the exact one I saw being taken to your house yesterday evening?
Mys. O you impudent fellow!
Mys. O you cheeky guy!
Dav. (aloud.) It’s the truth. I saw Canthara stuffed out beneath her clothes.82
Dav. (aloud.) It’s the truth. I saw Canthara packed under her clothes.82
Mys. I’faith, I thank the Gods that several free women were present83 at the delivery.
Ms. Honestly, I’m grateful to the Gods that several independent women were there83 during the delivery.
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Dav. (aloud.) Assuredly she doesn’t know him, on whose account she resorts to these schemes. Chremes, she fancies, if he sees the child laid before the door, will not give his daughter; i’faith, he’ll give her all the sooner,.
Dav. (aloud.) She definitely doesn’t know him, the reason she’s coming up with these plans. Chremes, she thinks, if he sees the child left at the door, won’t give his daughter; honestly, he’ll probably agree to it even faster.
Chrem. (apart.) I’faith, he’ll not do so.
Chrem. (aside.) I swear, he won't do that.
Dav. (aloud.) Now therefore, that you may be quite aware, if you don’t take up the child, I’ll roll it forthwith into the middle of the road; and yourself in the same place I’ll roll over into the mud.
Dav. (aloud.) So, just so you know, if you don’t pick up the child, I’ll roll it right into the middle of the road; and I’ll roll you into the mud right there, too.
Mys. Upon my word, man, you are not sober.
Honestly, dude, you're not sober.
Dav. (aloud.) One scheme brings on another. I now hear it whispered about that she is a citizen of Attica—
Dav. (aloud.) One plan leads to another. I’m now hearing rumors that she’s from Attica—
Chrem. (apart.) Ha!
Chrem. (aside.) Ha!
Dav. (aloud.) And that, constrained by the laws,84 he will have to take her as his wife.
Dav. (out loud.) And because of the rules, he will have to marry her.
Mys. Well now, pray, is she not a citizen?
Ms. Well, come on, is she not a citizen?
Chrem. (apart.) I had almost fallen unawares into a comical misfortune.
Chrem. (aside.) I almost found myself in a funny mishap without even realizing it.
Comes forward.
Steps up.
Dav. Who’s that, speaking? (Pretending to look about.) O Chremes, you have come in good time. Do listen to this.
Dav. Who's that talking? (Pretending to look around.) Oh Chremes, you showed up just in time. You need to hear this.
Chrem. I have heard it all already.
Chrem. I've heard it all already.
Dav. Prithee, did you hear it? Here’s villainy for you! she (pointing at Mysis) ought to be carried off85 hence to the torture forthwith. (To Mysis, pointing at Chremes.) This is Chremes himself; don’t suppose that you are trifling with Davus only.
Dav. Please, did you hear that? This is pure villainy! She (pointing at Mysis) should be taken away85 immediately for punishment. (To Mysis shrimp, pointing at Chremes.) This is Chremes himself; don’t think you’re just messing with Davus only.
Mys. Wretched me! upon my faith I have told no untruth, my worthy old gentleman.
Ms. Poor me! I swear I have not lied, my dear old man.
Chrem. I know the whole affair. Is Simo within?
Chrem. I know all about it. Is Simo here?
Dav. He is.
Dav. He is.
Chremes goes into Simo’s house.
Chremes enters Simo’s house.
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Scene VIII.
Davus and Mysis.
Davus and Mysis.
Mys. (Davus attempting to caress her.) Don’t touch me, villain. (Moving away.) On my word, if I don’t tell Glycerium all this....
Ms. (Davus trying to touch her.) Don’t touch me, you jerk. (Stepping back.) I swear, if I don’t tell Glycerium all of this....
Dav. How now, simpleton, don’t you know what has been done?
Dav. Hey, fool, don’t you know what’s happened?
Mys. How should I know?
Mys. How am I supposed to know?
Dav. This is the bride’s father. It couldn’t any other way have been managed that he should know the things that we wanted him to know.
Dav. This is the bride’s father. There was no other way for him to know the things we wanted him to know.
Mys. You should have told me that before.
Ms. You should have told me that earlier.
Dav. Do you suppose that it makes little difference whether you do things according to impulse, as nature prompts, or from premeditation?
Dav. Do you think it really matters if you act on impulse, as your instincts suggest, or if you plan things out first?
Scene IX.
Enter Crito, looking about him.
Enter Crito, surveying his surroundings.
Crito (to himself.) It was said that Chrysis used to live in this street, who preferred to gain wealth here dishonorably to living honestly as a poor woman in her own country: by her death that property has descended to me by law.86 But I see some persons of whom to make inquiry. (Accosting them.) Good-morrow to you.
Crito (to himself.) It was said that Chrysis used to live on this street, who chose to gain wealth here in a dishonest way instead of living honestly as a poor woman in her own country: after her death, that property has come to me by law.86 But I see some people I can ask. (Accosting them.) Good morning to you.
Mys. Prithee, whom do I see? Isn’t this Crito, the kinsman of Chrysis? It is he.
Ms. Please, who do I see? Isn’t this Crito, the relative of Chrysis? It is him.
Cri. O Mysis, greetings to you.
Cri. Mysis, hello to you.
Mys. Welcome to you, Crito.
Mys. Welcome, Crito.
Cri. Is Chrysis then——?87 Alas!
Cri. Is Chrysis then——? __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Oh no!
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Mys. Too truly. She has indeed left us poor creatures quite heart-broken.
Ms. So true. She has really left us poor souls completely heartbroken.
Cri. How fare you here, and in what fashion? Pretty well?
Cri. How are you doing here, and in what way? Pretty good?
Mys. What, we? Just as we can, as they say; since we can’t as we would.
Ms. What, us? Just like we can, as they say; since we can’t do it the way we want.
Cri. How is Glycerium? Has she discovered her parents yet?
Cri. How is Glycerium? Has she found her parents yet?
Mys. I wish she had.
Mys. I wish she would have.
Cri. What, not yet? With no favorable omen did I set out for this place; for, upon my faith, if I had known that, I never would have moved a foot hither. She was always said to be, and was looked upon as her sister; what things were hers she is in possession of; now for me to begin a suit at law here, the precedents of others warn me, a stranger,88 how easy and profitable a task it would be for me. At the same time, I suppose that by this she has got some friend and protector; for she was pretty nearly a grown-up girl when she left there. They would cry out that I am a sharper; that, a pauper, I’m hunting after an inheritance; besides, I shouldn’t like to strip the girl herself.
Crying. What, not yet? I set out for this place with no good vibes; honestly, if I had known how things would be, I never would have come here. Everyone always said she was just like her sister; everything that belonged to her is still in her possession. Now, for me to start a legal battle here, well, the experiences of others warn me, as a stranger, how easy and profitable that could be. At the same time, I guess she must have someone looking out for her; she was almost a grown-up when she left. They would say I’m a con artist, that I, a beggar, am chasing after an inheritance; besides, I wouldn’t want to take anything from the girl herself.
Mys. O most worthy stranger! I’faith, Crito, you still adhere to your good old-fashioned ways.
Ms. Oh, most worthy stranger! Honestly, Crito, you’re still sticking to your good old-fashioned ways.
Cri. Lead me to her, since I have come hither, that I may see her.
Cri. Take me to her, since I've come here, so I can see her.
Mys. By all means.
Sure thing.
They go into the house of Glycerium.
They enter Glycerium's house.
Dav. (to himself.) I’ll follow them; I don’t wish the old man to see me at this moment.
Dav. (to himself.) I'll follow them; I don't want the old man to see me right now.
He follows Mysis and Crito.
He follows Mysis and Crito.
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ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Enter Chremes and Simo from the house of Simo.
Enter Chremes and Simo from Simo's house.
Chrem. Enough already, enough, Simo, has my friendship toward you been proved. Sufficient hazard have I begun to encounter; make an end of your entreaties, then. While I’ve been endeavoring to oblige you, I’ve almost fooled away my daughter’s prospects in life.
Chrem. That’s enough, Simo. My friendship for you is clear. I’ve already faced enough risks; so stop begging me. While I’ve been trying to help you, I’ve nearly ruined my daughter’s future.
Sim. Nay but, now in especial, Chremes, I do beg and entreat of you, that the favor, commenced a short time since in words, you’ll now complete by deeds.
Yep. No, but especially now, Chremes, I really beg you to follow through on the favor we started discussing recently with actions.
Chrem. See how unreasonable you are from your very earnestness; so long as you effect what you desire, you neither think of limits to compliance, nor what it is you request of me; for if you did think, you would now forbear to trouble me with unreasonable requests.
Chrem. Look at how unreasonable you are with your so-called earnestness; as long as you get what you want, you don’t consider any limits to what you ask or even what you’re asking of me; because if you did think about it, you would stop bothering me with such absurd requests.
Sim. What unreasonable requests?
Sim. What outrageous requests?
Chrem. Do you ask? You importuned me to promise my daughter to a young man engaged in another attachment, averse to the marriage state, to plunge her into discord and a marriage of uncertain duration; that through her sorrow and her anguish I might reclaim your son. You prevailed; while the case admitted of it I made preparations. Now it does not admit of it; you must put up with it; they say that she is a citizen of this place; a child has been born; do cease to trouble us.
Chrem. Are you asking me? You pressured me to promise my daughter to a young man who is involved with someone else, who doesn’t want to get married, just to throw her into conflict and an uncertain marriage; all so I could bring your son back through her pain and suffering. You won out; for as long as it was possible, I made arrangements. Now it’s no longer possible; you have to accept it; they say she is a citizen here; a child has been born; so please stop bothering us.
Sim. By the Gods, I do conjure you not to bring your mind to believe those whose especial interest it is that he should be as degraded as possible. On account of the marriage, have all these things been feigned and contrived. When the reason for which they do these things is removed from them, they will desist.
Yeah. By the Gods, I urge you not to let yourself believe those who have a vested interest in seeing you as low as possible. All these things have been fabricated and planned because of the marriage. Once the reason for their actions is gone, they will stop.
Chrem. You are mistaken: I myself saw the servant-maid wrangling with Davus.
Chrem. You're wrong: I actually saw the maid arguing with Davus.
Sim. (sneeringly.) I am aware.
Sim. (sneeringly.) I know.
Chrem. With an appearance of earnestness, when neither at the moment perceived that I was present there.
Chrem. With a serious look, neither of them noticed that I was there at that moment.
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Sim. I believe it; and Davus a short time since forewarned me that this would be the case; and I don’t know how I forgot to tell it you to-day, as I had intended.
Yes. I believe it; and Davus just recently warned me that this would happen; I’m not sure how I forgot to mention it to you today, like I had planned.
Scene II.
Enter Davus from the house of Glycerium.
Enter Davus from the house of Glycerium.
Dav. (aloud at the door, not seeing Simo and Chremes.) Now then, I bid you set your minds at ease.
Dav. (aloud at the door, not seeing Simo and Chremes.) Alright, everyone, relax and don’t worry.
Chrem. (to Simo.) See you, there’s Davus.
Chrem. (to Simo.) Look, there’s Davus.
Sim. From what house is he coming out?
Yep. Which house is he coming out of?
Dav. (to himself.) Through my means, and that of the stranger——
Dav. (to himself.) By my actions, and with the help of the stranger——
Sim. (overhearing.) What mischief is this?
Sim. (overhearing) What's going on?
Dav. (to himself.) I never did see a more opportune person, encounter, or occasion.
Dav. (to himself.) I’ve never come across a better person, situation, or opportunity.
Sim. The rascal! I wonder who it is he’s praising?
Yep. That troublemaker! I wonder who he's complimenting?
Dav. All the affair is now in a safe position.
Dav. Everything is now in a secure position.
Sim. Why do I delay to accost him?
Yep. Why am I hesitating to talk to him?
Dav. (to himself, catching sight of Simo.) It’s my master; What am I to do?
Dav. (to himself, noticing Simo.) It's my boss; what should I do?
Sim. (accosting him.) O, save you, good sir!
Yep. (approaching him.) Oh, hi there, good sir!
Dav. (affecting surprise.) Hah! Simo! O, Chremes, my dear sir, all things are now quite ready in-doors.
Dav. (pretending to be surprised.) Hah! Simo! Oh, Chremes, my dear sir, everything is now totally ready inside.
Sim. (ironically.) You have taken such very good care.
Yes. (ironically.) You've really taken great care.
Dav. Send for the bride when you like.
Dav. Call for the bride whenever you want.
Sim. Very good: (ironically) of course, that’s the only thing that’s now wanting here. But do you answer me this, what business had you there? (Pointing to the house of Glycerium.)
Yep. Very good: (ironically) of course, that’s the only thing that’s missing here. But tell me this, what were you doing there? (Pointing to the house of Glycerin.)
Dav. What, I?
Dav. What do you mean?
Sim. Just so.
Sim. Exactly.
Dav. I?
Dav. Me?
Sim. Yes, you.
Sure, you.
Dav. I went in just now.
Dav. I just went in.
Sim. As if I asked how long ago!
Yep. As if I asked how long it’s been!
Dav. Together with your son.
Dav. With your son.
Sim. What, is Phamphilus in there? (Aside.) To my confusion, I’m on the rack (To Davus.) How now? Didn’t you say that there was enmity between them, you scoundrel?
Yep. What, is Phamphilus in there? (Aside.) I'm so confused, I'm on edge. (To Davus.) Hey! Didn't you say there was bad blood between them, you con artist?
Dav. There is.
There is.
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Sim. Why is he there, then?
Sim. Why is he here, then?
Chrem. Why do you suppose he is? (Ironically.) Quarreling with her, of course.
Chrem. Why do you think he is? (Ironically.) Arguing with her, of course.
Dav. Nay but, Chremes, I’ll let you now hear from me a disgraceful piece of business. An old man, I don’t know who he is, has just now come here; look you, he is a confident and shrewd person; when you look at his appearance, he seems to be a person of some consequence. There is a grave sternness in his features, and something commanding in his words.
Dav. No, but Chremes, I’ve got to tell you about this embarrassing situation. An older guy, I don’t know who he is, just arrived here; you see, he’s very confident and sharp. When you look at him, he seems important. There’s a serious intensity in his face, and something authoritative in the way he speaks.
Sim. What news are you bringing, I wonder?
Sim. What news do you have?
Dav. Why nothing but what I heard him mention.
Dav. I only heard him mention it.
Sim. What does he say then?
Sim. What does he say next?
Dav. That he knows Glycerium to be a citizen of Attica.
Dav. He knows that Glycerium is a citizen of Attica.
Sim. (going to his door.) Ho there! Dromo, Dromo!
Sure. (going to his door.) Hey! Dromo, Dromo!
Scene III.
Enter Dromo hastily from the house.
Enter Dromo quickly from the house.
Dro. What is it?
Dro. What's up?
Sim. Dromo!
Dromo!
Dav. Hear me.
Dav. Listen to me.
Sim. If you add a word—Dromo!
Sim. If you add a word—Dromo!
Dav. Hear me, pray.
Dav. Please listen to me.
Dro. (to Simo.) What do you want?
What do you want?
Sim. (pointing to Davus.) Carry him off on your shoulders in-doors as fast as possible.
Yep. (pointing to Davus.) Carry him inside on your shoulders as quickly as you can.
Dro. Whom?
Who?
Sim. Davus.
Sim. Davus.
Dav. For what reason?
Dav. Why?
Sim. Because I choose. (To Dromo.) Carry him off, I say.
Yes. Because I choose. (To Dromo.) Take him away, I say.
Dav. What have I done?
Dav. What did I do?
Sim. Carry him off.
Sim. Take him away.
Dav. If you find that I have told a lie in any one matter, then kill me.
Dav. If you discover that I have lied about anything, then kill me.
Sim. I’ll hear nothing. I’ll soon have you set in motion.89
Yes. I don’t want to hear anything. I’ll get you started soon. 89
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Dav. What? Although this is the truth.
Dav. What? Even though this is the truth.
Sim. In spite of it. (To Dromo.) Take care he’s kept well secured; and, do you hear? Tie him up hands and feet together.90 Now then, be off; upon my faith this very day, if I live, I’ll teach you what hazard there is in deceiving a master, and him in deceiving a father.
Yep. Despite that. (To Dromo.) Make sure he's well secured; and, do you hear? Tie his hands and feet together. 90 Now then, go on; I swear that today, if I live, I’ll show you the dangers of deceiving a master, especially when it comes to deceiving a father.
Dromo leads Davus into the house.
Dromo takes Davus into the house.
Chrem. Oh, don’t be so extremely vexed.
Chrem. Oh, don't be so mad.
Sim. O Chremes, the dutifulness of a son! Do you not pity me? That I should endure so much trouble for such a son! (Goes to the door of Glycerium’s house.) Come, Pamphilus, come out, Pamphilus! have you any shame left?
Yep. Oh Chremes, the responsibility of being a father! Don’t you feel sorry for me? I have to go through so much hassle for such a son! (Goes to the door of Glycerin’s house.) Come on, Pamphilus, step outside, Pamphilus! Do you have any shame left?
Scene IV.
Enter Pamphilus in haste from Glycerium’s house.
Enter Pamphilus quickly from Glycerium’s house.
Pam. Who is it that wants me? (Aside.) I’m undone! it’s my father.
Pam. Who's calling for me? (Aside.) I'm finished! It's my dad.
Sim. What say you, of all men, the—?
Yes. What do you say, out of all the men, the—?
Chrem. Oh! rather speak about the matter itself, and forbear to use harsh language.
Chrem. Oh! I'd prefer to talk about the issue itself, so let's avoid using harsh words.
Sim. As if any thing too severe could now be possibly said against him. Pray, do you say that Glycerium is a citizen—
Yep. As if anything too harsh could possibly be said about him now. Come on, are you saying that Glycerium is a citizen—
Pam. So they say.
Pam. That's what they say.
Sim. So they say! Unparalleled assurance! does he consider what he says? Is he sorry for what he has done? Does his countenance, pray, at all betray any marks of shame? That he should be of mind so weak, as, without regard to the custom and the law91 of his fellow-citizens, and the wish of his own father, to be anxious, in spite of every thing, to have her, to his own utter disgrace!
Yep. So they say! What unbelievable confidence! Does he even think about what he says? Is he regretful for what he's done? Does his face show any signs of shame? How can he be so weak-minded, completely ignoring the customs and laws of his fellow citizens, and his own father's wishes, while still being so desperate to have her, despite the disgrace it brings him!
Pam. Miserable that I am!
Pam. I'm so miserable!
Sim. Ha! have you at last found that out only just now, Pamphilus? Long since did that expression, long since, when 55 you made up your mind, that what you desired must be effected by you at any price; from that very day did that expression aptly befit you. But yet why do I torment myself? Why vex myself? Why worry my old age with this madness? Am I to suffer the punishment for his offenses? Nay then, let him have her, good-by to him, let him pass his life with her.
Yes. Ha! Have you finally figured that out just now, Pamphilus? You should have known that expression long ago, back when you decided that you would go after what you wanted no matter the cost. From that day on, that expression suited you perfectly. But why am I putting myself through this? Why am I stressing myself out? Why am I burdening my old age with this craziness? Am I really going to face the consequences for his wrongdoings? Well then, let him have her. Goodbye to him, let him spend his life with her.
Pam. My father——
Pam. My dad——
Sim. How, “my father?” As if you stood in any need of this father. Home, wife, and children, provided by you against the will of your father! People suborned, too, to say that she is a citizen of this place! You have gained your point.
Yep. What do you mean, “my father?” As if you really needed this father. A home, a wife, and kids, all thanks to you despite your father's wishes! You even got people paid off to claim that she belongs here! You’ve achieved your goal.
Pam. Father, may I say a few words?
Pam. Dad, can I say a few words?
Sim. What can you say to me?
Yep. What do you want to say to me?
Chrem. But, Simo, do hear him.
Chrem. But, Simo, listen to him.
Sim. I, hear him? Why should I hear him, Chremes?
Yup. I, hear him? Why should I listen to him, Chremes?
Chrem. Still, however, do allow him to speak.
Chrem. But still, let him talk.
Sim. Well then, let him speak: I allow him.
Yep. Alright, let him talk: I’m okay with that.
Pam. I own that I love her; if that is committing a fault, I own that also. To you, father, do I subject myself. Impose on me any injunction you please; command me. Do you wish me to take a wife? Do you wish me to give her up? As well as I can, I will endure it. This only I request of you, not to think that this old gentleman has been suborned by me. Allow me to clear myself, and to bring him here before you.
Pam. I admit that I love her; if that's a mistake, I'll own up to that too. To you, father, I submit myself. Give me any orders you want; just tell me what to do. Do you want me to marry? Do you want me to let her go? I will try my best to handle it. All I ask is that you don't think this old gentleman has been influenced by me. Let me explain myself and bring him here in front of you.
Sim. To bring him here?
Sim. To get him here?
Pam. Do allow me, father.
Pam. Please let me, dad.
Chrem. He asks what’s reasonable; do give him leave.
Chrem. He asks what's reasonable; go ahead and give him permission.
Pam. Allow me to obtain thus much of you.
Pam. Let me get this much from you.
Sim. I allow it. I desire any thing, so long as I find, Chremes, that I have not been deceived by him.
Yes. I'm okay with that. I want anything, as long as I find out, Chremes, that I haven't been fooled by him.
Pamphilus goes into the house of Glycerium.
Pamphilus enters Glycerium's house.
Chrem. For a great offense, a slight punishment ought to satisfy a father.
Chrem. For a serious offense, a minor punishment should be enough to please a father.
Scene V.
Re-enter Pamphilus with Crito.
Re-enter Pamphilus with Crito.
Cri. (to Pamphilus, as he is coming out.) Forbear entreating. Of these, any one reason prompts me to do it, either 56 your own sake, or the fact that it is the truth, or that I wish well for Glycerium herself.
Cri. (to Pamphilus, as he is coming out.) Stop begging me. Any one of these reasons makes me want to do it: for your sake, because it’s the truth, or because I genuinely care about Glycerium. 56
Chrem. (starting.) Do I see Crito of Andros? Surely it is he.
Chrem. (starting.) Do I see Crito from Andros? It has to be him.
Cri. Greetings to you, Chremes.
Hi, Chremes.
Chrem. How is it that, so contrary to your usage, you are at Athens?
Chrem. How is it that, against your usual habits, you are in Athens?
Cri. So it has happened. But is this Simo?
Cri. So it has happened. But is this Simo?
Chrem. It is he.
Chrem. It's him.
Cri. Simo, were you asking for me?
Cri. Simo, were you looking for me?
Sim. How now, do you say that Glycerium is a citizen of this place?
Yep. So, are you saying that Glycerium is a resident of this town?
Cri. Do you deny it?
Cri. Do you really deny it?
Sim. (ironically.) Have you come here so well prepared?
Yup. (ironically.) Did you come here so ready?
Cri. For what purpose?
Cri. What’s the reason?
Sim. Do you ask? Are you to be acting this way with impunity? Are you to be luring young men into snares here, inexperienced in affairs, and liberally brought up, by tempting them, and to be playing upon their fancies by making promises?
Yeah. Are you serious? Are you really going to act like this without facing any consequences? Are you going to trap young, inexperienced men here, who were raised with good intentions, by tempting them and manipulating their dreams with empty promises?
Cri. Are you in your senses?
Cri. Are you out of your mind?
Sim. And are you to be patching up amours with Courtesans by marriage?
Yep. So, are you really planning to fix your love life by marrying a courtesan?
Pam. (aside.) I’m undone! I fear that the stranger will not put up with this.
Pam. (aside.) I'm done for! I'm worried that the stranger won't tolerate this.
Chrem. If, Simo, you knew this person well, you would not think thus; he is a worthy man.
Chrem. If you knew this guy well, Simo, you wouldn't think that way; he's a good man.
Sim. He, a worthy man! To come so opportunely to-day just at the very nuptials, and yet never to have come before? (Ironically.) Of course, we must believe him, Chremes.
Yes. He's a great guy! Showing up today, right at the wedding, and never having shown up before? (Ironically.) Of course, we should trust him, Chremes.
Pam. (aside.) If I didn’t dread my father, I have something, which, in this conjuncture, I could opportunely suggest to him.92
Pam. (aside.) If I didn't fear my dad, I have something that would be really useful to suggest to him right now.92
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Sim. (sneeringly, to Chremes.) A sharper!93
A con artist! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Cri. (starting.) Hah!
Cri. (starting.) Haha!
Chrem. It is his way, Crito; do excuse it.
Chrem. That's just how he is, Crito; please forgive him.
Cri. Let him take heed how he behaves. If he persists in saying to me what he likes, he’ll be hearing things that he don’t like. Am I meddling with these matters or interesting myself? Can you not endure your troubles with a patient mind? For as to what I say, whether it is true or false what I have heard, can soon be known. A certain man of Attica, a long time ago,94 his ship being wrecked, was cast ashore at Andros, and this woman together with him, who was then a little girl; he, in his destitution, by chance first made application to the father of Chrysis—
Cri. He better watch how he acts. If he keeps saying whatever he wants to me, he’ll hear things he doesn’t want to hear. Am I interfering in these matters or just interested? Can’t you deal with your problems calmly? Because regarding what I say, whether it’s true or false, will soon be revealed. A certain man from Attica, a long time ago, after his shipwreck, found himself washed up on the shore of Andros, along with this woman who was a little girl back then; he, in his poverty, initially reached out to the father of Chrysis—
Sim. (ironically.) He’s beginning his tale.
Sim. (ironically.) He's starting his story.
Chrem. Let him alone.
Chrem. Leave him alone.
Cri. Really, is he to be interrupting me in this way?
Cri. Seriously, is he really going to interrupt me like this?
Chrem. Do you proceed.
Chrem. Go ahead.
Cri. He who received him was a relation of mine. There I heard from him that he was a native of Attica. He died there.
Cri. The person who received him was a relative of mine. It was there that I learned from him that he was from Attica. He passed away there.
Chrem. His name?
Chrem. What's his name?
Cri. The name, in such a hurry!
Cri. What’s with the rush on the name!
Pam. Phania.
Pam. Phania.
Chrem. (starting.) Hah! I shall die!
Chrem. (starting.) Ha! I'm going to die!
Cri. I’faith, I really think it was Phania; this I know for certain, he said that he was a citizen of Rhamnus.95
Cri. Honestly, I really think it was Phania; I know for sure, he said he was from Rhamnus.95
Chrem. O Jupiter!
O Jupiter!
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Cri. Many other persons in Andros have heard the same, Chremes.
Cri. Many other people in Andros have heard the same, Chremes.
Chrem. (aside.) I trust it may turn out as I hope. (To Crito.) Come now, tell me, what did he then say about her? Did he say she was his own daughter?
Chrem. (aside.) I hope this works out the way I want. (To Crito.) So, tell me, what did he say about her? Did he say she was his own daughter?
Cri. No.
Nope.
Chrem. Whose then?
Chrem. Whose is it then?
Cri. His brother’s daughter.
Cri. His niece.
Chrem. She certainly is mine.
Chrem. She definitely is mine.
Cri. What do you say?
Cri. What do you think?
Sim. What is this that you say?
Sim. What are you saying?
Pam. (aside.) Prick up your ears, Pamphilus.
Pay attention, Pam.
Sim. Why do you suppose so?
Sim. Why do you think so?
Chrem. That Phania was my brother.
Chrem. Phania was my brother.
Sim. I knew him, and I am aware of it.
Yep. I knew him, and I know that.
Chrem. He, flying from the wars, and following me to Asia, set out from here. At the same time he was afraid to leave her here behind; since then, this is the first time I have heard what became of him.
Chrem. He left to escape the wars and came after me to Asia. He was also worried about leaving her behind. This is the first time I’ve heard what happened to him since then.
Pam. (aside.) I am scarcely myself, so much has my mind been agitated by fear, hope, joy, and surprise at this so great, so unexpected blessing.
Pam. (aside.) I'm barely myself; my mind has been so thrown around by fear, hope, joy, and surprise at this huge, unexpected blessing.
Sim. Really, I am glad for many reasons that she has been discovered to be a citizen.
Yup. Honestly, I’m really happy for many reasons that she’s been found to be a citizen.
Pam. I believe it, father.
I believe it, Dad.
Chrem. But there yet remains one difficulty96 with me, which keeps me in suspense.
Chrem. But there's still one issue96 for me that leaves me in suspense.
Pam. (aside.) You deserve to be——, with your scruples, you plague. You are seeking a knot in a bulrush.97
Pam. (aside.) You deserve to be——, with your concerns, you troublemaker. You are looking for a problem where there isn’t one.97
Cri. (to Chremes.) What is that?
Cri. (to Chremes.) What’s that?
Chrem. The names don’t agree.
The names don't match.
Cri. Troth, she had another when little.
Cri. Honestly, she had another one when she was little.
Chrem. What was it, Crito? Can you remember it?
Chrem. What was it, Crito? Do you remember it?
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Cri. I’m trying to recollect it.
Cri. I'm trying to remember it.
Pam. (aside.) Am I to suffer his memory to stand in the way of my happiness, when I myself can provide my own remedy in this matter? I will not suffer it. (Aloud.) Hark you, Chremes, that which you are trying to recollect is “Pasibula.”
Pam. (aside.) Am I really going to let his memory interfere with my happiness when I can fix this myself? I won’t allow it. (Aloud.) Listen, Chremes, what you’re trying to remember is “Pasibula.”
Chrem. The very same.
Chrem. That’s the one.
Cri. That’s it.
Cri. That's all.
Pam. I’ve heard it from herself a thousand times.
Pam. I've heard it straight from her a thousand times.
Sim. I suppose, Chremes, that you believe that we all rejoice at this discovery.
Yep. I guess, Chremes, that you think we’re all happy about this discovery.
Chrem. So may the Gods bless me, I do believe it.
Chrem. I swear, I really believe it.
Pam. What remains to be done, father?
Pam. What needs to be done, dad?
Sim. The event itself has quite brought me to reconcilement.
Yup. The event itself has really helped me come to terms with things.
Pam. O kind father! With regard to her as a wife, since I have taken possession of her, Chremes will not offer any opposition.
Pam. Oh, kind father! As far as having her as a wife goes, since I've claimed her, Chremes won't put up any resistance.
Chrem. The plea is a very good one, unless perchance your father says any thing to the contrary.
Chrem. That's a really good argument, unless your father says something different.
Pam. Of course, I agree.
Pam. Totally, I'm on board.
Sim. Then be it so.98
Sim. Then it's settled.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Chrem. Her portion, Pamphilus, is ten talents.
Chrem. Her share, Pamphilus, is ten talents.
Pam. I am satisfied.
Pam. I'm satisfied.
Chrem. I’ll hasten to my daughter. Come now, (beckoning) along with me, Crito; for I suppose that she will not know me.
Chrem. I’ll hurry to my daughter. Come on, (beckoning) come with me, Crito; I don't think she will recognize me.
They go into Glycerium’s house.
They enter Glycerium’s house.
Sim. (To Pamphilus.) Why don’t you order her to be sent for hither, to our house?
Yep. (To Pamphilus.) Why don’t you tell them to bring her here, to our place?
Pam. Well thought of; I’ll at once give charge of that to Davus.
Pam. Well regarded; I'll immediately assign that to Davus.
Sim. He can’t do it.
Sim. He can't handle it.
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Pam. How so?
Pam. How come?
Sim. Because he has another matter that more nearly concerns himself, and of more importance.
Yep. Because he has a different issue that affects him more directly and is more important.
Pam. What, pray?
Pam. What, seriously?
Sim. He is bound.
Sim. He’s tied up.
Pam. Father, he is not rightly bound.99
Dad, he isn't really into it. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Sim. But I ordered to that effect.
Yes. But I asked for that to be done.
Pam. Prithee, do order him to be set at liberty.
Pam. Please, get him released.
Sim. Well, be it so.
Sim. Fine, let's do it.
Pam. But immediately.
Pam. But right away.
Sim. I’m going in.
Sim. I'm heading in.
Pam. O fortunate and happy day!
Pam. Oh, what a lucky day!
Simo goes into his house.
Simo walks into his house.
Scene VI.
Enter Charinus, at a distance.
Enter Charinus, from afar.
Char. (apart to himself.) I’m come to see what Pamphilus is about; and look, here he is.
Char. (aside to himself.) I’m here to see what Pamphilus is up to; and look, here he is.
Pam. (to himself.) Some one perhaps might imagine that I don’t believe this to be true; but now it is clear to me that it really is true. I do think that the life of the Gods is everlasting, for this reason, because their joys are their own.100 For immortality has been obtained by me, if no sorrow interrupts this delight. But whom in particular could I wish to be now thrown in my way, for me to relate these things to?
Pam. (to himself.) Some might think I don’t really believe this, but I now see that it’s genuinely true. I truly believe that the life of the Gods is eternal, and that’s because their joys belong to them. 100 I have attained immortality, as long as no sorrow disrupts this happiness. But who exactly would I want to come across right now to share these thoughts with?
Char. (apart to himself.) What means this rapture?
Char. (aside to himself.) What is this excitement about?
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Pam. (to himself.) I see Davus. There is no one in the world whom I would choose in preference; for I am sure that he of all people will sincerely rejoice in my happiness.
Pam. (to himself.) I see Davus. There's no one in the world I would choose over him; I know he will genuinely be happy for me.
Scene VII.
Enter Davus.
Enter Davus.
Dav. (to himself.) Where is Pamphilus, I wonder?
Dav. (to himself.) I wonder where Pamphilus is?
Pam. Here he is, Davus.
Pam. Here he is, Davus.
Dav. (turning round.) Who’s that?
Dav. (turning around.) Who's that?
Pam. ’Tis I, Pamphilus; you don’t know what has happened to me.
Pam. It’s me, Pamphilus; you have no idea what’s happened to me.
Dav. No really; but I know what has happened to myself.
Dav. No, seriously; but I know what has happened to me.
Pam. And I too.
Pam. Same here.
Dav. It has fallen out just like human affairs in general, that you should know the mishap I have met with, before I the good that has befallen you.
Dav. It turns out just like most human situations, that you should hear about the trouble I've faced before I share the luck that has come your way.
Pam. My Glycerium has discovered her parents.
Pam. My Glycerium has found her parents.
Dav. O, well done!
Dav. Oh, nice job!
Char. (apart, in surprise.) Hah!
Hah!
Pam. Her father is an intimate friend of ours.
Pam. Her dad is a close friend of ours.
Dav. Who?
Dav. Who's that?
Pam. Chremes.
Pam. Chremes.
Dav. You do tell good news.
Dav. You really share good news.
Pam. And there’s no hinderance to my marrying her at once.
Pam. And nothing is stopping me from marrying her right away.
Char. (apart.) Is he dreaming the same that he has been wishing for when awake?
Char. (apart.) Is he dreaming about the same thing he's been hoping for while awake?
Pam. Then about the child, Davus.
Pam. Then about the kid, Davus.
Dav. O, say no more; you are the only person whom the Gods favor.
Dav. Oh, don’t say anything else; you’re the only one the Gods look out for.
Char. (apart.) I’m all right if these things are true. I’ll accost them.
Char. (aside.) I’m fine if these things are true. I’ll confront them.
Comes forward.
Steps forward.
Pam. Who is this? Why, Charinus, you meet me at the very nick of time.
Pam. Who is this? Wow, Charinus, you showed up just in time.
Char. That’s all right.
That's fine.
Pam. Have you heard—?
Pam. Have you heard?
Char. Every thing; come, in your good fortune do have some regard for me. Chremes is now at your command; I’m sure that he’ll do every thing you wish.
Char. Everything; please, in your good fortune, think of me. Chremes is now at your service; I'm sure he'll do whatever you want.
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Pam. I’ll remember you; and because it is tedious for us to wait for him until he comes out, follow me this way; he is now in-doors at the house of Glycerium; do you, Davus, go home; send with all haste to remove her thence. Why are you standing there? Why are you delaying?
Pam. I’ll remember you; and since it's boring for us to wait for him to come out, follow me this way; he's inside at Glycerium's place. You, Davus, go home; hurry and send someone to bring her back. Why are you just standing there? What are you waiting for?
Dav. I’m going. (Pamphilus and Charinus go into the house of Glycerium. Davus then comes forward and addresses the Audience.) Don’t you wait until they come out from there; she will be betrothed within: if there is any thing else that remains, it will be transacted in-doors. Grant us your applause.101
Dav. I’m leaving. (Pamphilus and Charinus go into Glycerin's house. Davus then comes forward and addresses the Audience.) Don’t wait until they come out; she’s going to get engaged in there. If there’s anything else to take care of, it will be handled inside. Please give us your applause.101
FOOTNOTES
1. From σιμὸς, “flat-nosed.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From σιμὸς, “flat-nosed.”
2. From πᾶν, “all,” and φιλὸς, “a friend.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From πᾶν, “all,” and φιλὸς, “friend.”
4. From χρέμπτομαι, “to spit.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From χρέμπτομαι, “to spit.”
5. From ξάρις, “grace.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From ξάρις, “grace.”
6. From κριτής, “a judge.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From κριτής, “a judge.”
7. From Dacia, his native country; the Davi and Daci being the same people.
7. From Dacia, his home country; the Davi and Daci are the same people.
8. From δρόμος, “a race.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From δρόμος, “a race.”
9. From πυῤῥὸς, “red-haired.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From πυῤῥὸς, “red-haired.”
10. From γλυκερὸς, “sweet.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From γλυκερὸς, “sweet.”
11. From Mysia, her native country.
From Mysia, her homeland.
12. From Lesbos, her native country.
From Lesbos, her homeland.
13. The Megalensian Games)—These games were instituted at Rome in honor of the Goddess Cybele, when her statue was brought thither from Pessinum, in Asia Minor, by Scipio Nasica; they were so called from the Greek title Μεγάλη Μήτηρ, “the Great Mother.” They were called Megalesia or Megalensia, indifferently. A very interesting account of the origin of these games will be found in the Fasti of Ovid. B. iv. l. 194, et seq.
13. The Megalensian Games)—These games were started in Rome to honor the Goddess Cybele when her statue was brought there from Pessinum, in Asia Minor, by Scipio Nasica; they were named after the Greek title Great Mother, which means “the Great Mother.” They were referred to as Megalesia or Megalensia interchangeably. You can find a very interesting account of the origin of these games in Ovid's Fasti, Book IV, line 194, and following lines.
14. Being Curule Ædiles)—Among the other offices of the Ædiles at Rome, it was their duty to preside at the public games, and to provide the necessary dramatic representations for the Theatre, by making contracts with the Poets and Actors.
14. Being Curule Ædiles)—In addition to their other responsibilities, the Ædiles in Rome were in charge of overseeing public games and arranging the necessary theatrical performances by negotiating contracts with poets and actors.
15. Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius Prænestinus)—These persons were the heads or managers of the company of actors who performed the Play, and as such it was their province to make the necessary contracts with the Curule Ædiles. They were also actors themselves, and usually took the leading characters. Ambivius Turpio seems to have been a favorite with the Roman public, and to have performed for many years; of L. Atilius Prænestinus nothing is known.
15. Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius Prænestinus)—These individuals were the leaders or managers of the acting troupe that performed the play, and it was their responsibility to make the necessary agreements with the Curule Aediles. They were also actors themselves and typically took on the main roles. Ambivius Turpio appears to have been a favorite among the Roman audience and performed for many years; however, nothing is known about L. Atilius Prænestinus.
16. Freedman of Claudius)—According to some, the words, “Flaccus Claudi” mean “the son of Claudius.” It is, however, more generally thought that it is thereby meant that he was the freedman or liberated slave of some Roman noble of the family of the Claudii.
16. Freedman of Claudius)—Some people say that the words “Flaccus Claudi” mean “the son of Claudius.” However, it’s more commonly believed that it means he was the freedman or liberated slave of a Roman noble from the Claudii family.
17. Treble flutes and bass flutes)—The history of ancient music, and especially that relative to the “tibiæ,” “pipes” or “flutes,” is replete with obscurity. It is not agreed what are the meanings of the respective terms, but in the present Translation the following theory has been adopted: The words “dextræ” and “sinistræ” denote the kind of flute, the former being treble, the latter bass flutes, or, as they were sometimes called, “incentivæ” or “succentivæ;” though it has been thought by some that they were so called because the former held with the right hand, the latter with the left. When two treble flutes or two bass flutes were played upon at the same time, they were called “tibiæ pares;” but when one was “dextra” and the other “sinistra,” “tibiæ impares.” Hence the words “paribus dextris et sinistris,” would mean alternately with treble flutes and bass flutes. Two “tibiæ” were often played upon by one performer at the same time. For a specimen of a Roman “tibicen” or “piper,” see the last scene of the Stichus of Plautus. Some curious information relative to the pipers of Rome and the legislative enactments respecting them will be found in the Fasti of Ovid, B. vi. l. 653, et seq.
17. Treble flutes and bass flutes)—The history of ancient music, especially regarding the “tibiæ,” “pipes,” or “flutes,” is filled with uncertainty. There isn't a consensus on the meanings of the specific terms, but in this translation, we have adopted the following theory: The words “dextræ” and “sinistræ” refer to the type of flute, with the former representing treble flutes and the latter bass flutes; they were sometimes called “incentivæ” or “succentivæ.” Some believe they were named this way because the former was held in the right hand and the latter in the left. When two treble flutes or two bass flutes were played together, they were called “tibiæ pares”; but when one was “dextra” and the other “sinistra,” they were referred to as “tibiæ impares.” Therefore, the phrase “paribus dextris et sinistris” means alternating between treble and bass flutes. A single performer often played two “tibiæ” at the same time. For an example of a Roman “tibicen” or “piper,” see the last scene of Plautus's Stichus. Some interesting details about the pipers of Rome and the laws concerning them can be found in Ovid's Fasti, B. vi. l. 653, et seq.
18. It is entirety Grecian)—This means that the scene is in Greece, and that it is of the kind called “palliata,” as representing the manners of the Greeks, who wore the “pallium,” or outer cloak; whereas the Romans wore the “toga.” In the Prologue, Terence states that he borrowed it from the Greek of Menander.
18. It's completely Grecian)—This means that the scene takes place in Greece and represents what’s known as “palliata,” showcasing the customs of the Greeks, who wore the “pallium,” or outer cloak, while the Romans wore the “toga.” In the Prologue, Terence mentions that he adapted it from the Greek work of Menander.
19. Being Consuls)—M. Claudius Marcellus and C. Sulpicius Galba were Consuls in the year from the building of Rome 586, and B.C. 167.
19. Being Consuls)—M. Claudius Marcellus and C. Sulpicius Galba were Consuls in the year 586 A.U.C. (from the founding of Rome), or 167 B.C.
20. A malevolent old Poet)—Ver. 7. He alludes to Luscus Lanuvinus, or Lavinius, a Comic Poet of his time, but considerably his senior. He is mentioned by Terence in all his Prologues except that to the Hecyra, and seems to have made it the business of his life to run down his productions and discover faults in them.
20. An evil old Poet)—Ver. 7. He references Luscus Lanuvinus, or Lavinius, a Comic Poet from his time, but much older. Terence mentions him in all his Prologues except the one for the Hecyra, and he appears to have dedicated his life to criticizing his works and pointing out their flaws.
21. Composed the Andrian)—Ver. 9. This Play, like that of our author, took its name from the Isle of Andros, one of the Cyclades in the Ægean Sea, where Glycerium is supposed to have been born. Donatus, the Commentator on Terence, informs us that the first Scene of this Play is almost a literal translation from the Perinthian of Menander, in which the old man was represented as discoursing with his wife just as Simo does here with Sosia. In the Andrian of Menander, the old man opened with a soliloquy.
21. Composed the Andrian)—Ver. 9. This play, like our author's, gets its name from the island of Andros, one of the Cyclades in the Aegean Sea, where Glycerium is said to have been born. Donatus, who commented on Terence, tells us that the first scene of this play is almost a direct translation from Menander's Perinthian, where the old man talks to his wife just like Simo does here with Sosia. In Menander's Andrian, the old man starts with a monologue.
22. And the Perinthian)—Ver. 9. This Play was so called from Perinthus, a town of Thrace, its heroine being a native of that place.
22. And the Perinthian)—Ver. 9. This play is named after Perinthus, a town in Thrace, because its heroine is from there.
23. Nævius, Plautus, and Ennius)—Ver. 18. Ennius was the oldest of these three Poets. Nævius a contemporary of Plautus. See a probable allusion to his misfortunes in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 211.
23. Nævius, Plautus, and Ennius)—Ver. 18. Ennius was the oldest of these three poets. Nævius was a contemporary of Plautus. There’s a likely reference to his troubles in Plautus's Miles Gloriosus, line 211.
24. The mystifying carefulness)—Ver. 21. By “obscuram diligentiam” he means that formal degree of precision which is productive of obscurity.
24. The puzzling caution)—Ver. 21. By “obscuram diligentiam,” he refers to that specific level of detail that leads to confusion.
25. Are to be taken care of, I suppose)—Ver. 30. “Nempe ut curentur recte hæc.” Colman here remarks; “Madame Dacier will have it that Simo here makes use of a kitchen term in the word ‘curentur.’ I believe it rather means ‘to take care of’ any thing generally; and at the conclusion of this very scene, Sosia uses the word again, speaking of things very foreign to cookery, ‘Sat est, curabo.’”
25. Are to be taken care of, I guess)—Ver. 30. “Meaning that these should be taken care of properly.” Colman notes here; “Madame Dacier suggests that Simo uses a kitchen term with the word ‘curentur.’ I think it actually means ‘to take care of’ anything in general; and at the end of this very scene, Sosia uses the word again, referring to matters unrelated to cooking, ‘Sat est, curabo.’”
26. To be my freedman)—Ver. 37. “Libertus” was the name given to a slave set at liberty by his master. A “libertinus” was the son of a “libertus.”
26. To be my freedman)—Ver. 37. “Libertus” was the term used for a slave who was freed by his owner. A “libertinus” was the child of a “libertus.”
27. As it were a censure)—Ver. 43. Among the Greeks (whose manners and sentiments are supposed to be depicted in this Play) it was a maxim that he who did a kindness should forget it, while he who received it should keep it in memory. Sosia consequently feels uneasy, and considers the remark of his master in the light of a reproach.
27. As it were a censure)—Ver. 43. Among the Greeks (whose behaviors and feelings are reflected in this play) it was a rule that the person who does a good deed should forget it, while the one who receives the kindness should remember it. As a result, Sosia feels uncomfortable and interprets his master's comment as criticism.
28. After he had passed from youthfulness)—Ver. 51. “Ephebus” was the name given to a youth when between the ages of sixteen and twenty.
28. Once he moved beyond his youthful years)—Ver. 51. “Ephebus” referred to a young man aged between sixteen and twenty.
29. And a master)—Ver. 54. See the Notes to the Translation of the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 109, where Lydus, a slave, appears as the “pædagogus,” or “magister,” of Pistoclerus.
29. And a master)—Ver. 54. See the Notes to the Translation of the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 109, where Lydus, a slave, appears as the “pædagogus,” or “teacher,” of Pistoclerus.
30. Or to the philosophers)—Ver. 57. It was the custom in Greece with all young men of free birth to apply themselves to the study of philosophy, of course with zeal proportioned to the love of learning in each. They each adopted some particular sect, to which they attached themselves. There is something sarcastic here, and indeed not very respectful to the “philosophers,” in coupling them as objects of attraction with horses and hounds.
30. Or to the philosophers)—Ver. 57. In Greece, it was common for all young men of free birth to dedicate themselves to studying philosophy, with their enthusiasm reflecting their passion for learning. Each of them chose a specific school of thought to follow. There's a sarcastic tone here, and it's not very flattering to the “philosophers” to be mentioned alongside horses and hounds as objects of interest.
31. Nothing to excess)—Ver. 61. “Ne quid nimis.” This was one of the three sentences which were inscribed in golden letters in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. The two others were “Know thyself,” and “Misery is the consequence of debt and discord.” Sosia seems from the short glimpse we have of him to have been a retailer of old saws and proverbs. He is unfortunately only a Protatic or introductory character, as we lose sight of him after this Act.
31. Nothing to excess)—Ver. 61. “Don’t take things too far.” This was one of the three phrases inscribed in gold at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi. The other two were “Know yourself,” and “Suffering comes from debt and conflict.” Sosia appears, from the brief look we get at him, to be someone who shares old sayings and proverbs. Unfortunately, he’s just a preliminary or introductory character, and we lose track of him after this Act.
32. Meanwhile, three years ago)—Ver. 60. The following remark of Donatus on this passage is quoted by Colman for its curiosity. “The Author has artfully said three years, when he might have given a longer or a shorter period; since it is probable that the woman might have lived modestly one year; set up the trade the next; and died the third. In the first year, therefore, Pamphilus knew nothing of the family of Chrysis; in the second, he became acquainted with Glycerium; and in the third, Glycerium marries Pamphilus, and finds her parents.”
32. Meanwhile, three years ago)—Ver. 60. Colman cites Donatus's interesting comment on this passage: “The author cleverly mentions three years, when he could have chosen a longer or shorter time frame; it's likely that the woman lived modestly for a year, started her business the next year, and died in the third. So, in the first year, Pamphilus knew nothing about Chrysis's family; in the second year, he met Glycerium; and in the third year, Glycerium married Pamphilus and discovered her parents.”
33. He is smitten)—Ver. 78. “Habet,” literally “He has it.” This was the expression used by the spectators at the moment when a Gladiator was wounded by his antagonist. In the previous line, in the words “captus est,” a figurative allusion is made to the “retiarius,” a Gladiator who was provided with a net, with which he endeavored to entangle his opponent.
33. He is smitten)—Ver. 78. “Habet,” literally “He has it.” This was the expression used by the spectators at the moment when a Gladiator was wounded by his opponent. In the previous line, the phrase “captus est” makes a figurative reference to the “retiarius,” a Gladiator who carried a net with which he tried to trap his opponent.
34. Gave his contribution)—Ver. 88. “Symbolam.” The “symbolæ,” “shot” at picnic or club entertainments, are more than once alluded to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
34. Gave his contribution)—Ver. 88. “Symbolam.” The “symbolæ,” “shot” at picnic or club entertainments, are mentioned more than once in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
35. Even I myself)—Ver. 116. Cooke remarks here: “A complaisant father, to go to the funeral of a courtesan, merely to oblige his son!”
35. Even I myself)—Ver. 116. Cooke comments here: “A willing father, attending the funeral of a sex worker, just to please his son!”
36. The female attendants)—Ver. 123. “Pedissequæ.” These “pedissequæ,” or female attendants, are frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus. See the Notes to Bohn’s Translation.
36. The female attendants)—Ver. 123. “Pedissequæ.” These “pedissequæ,” or female attendants, are often mentioned in the Plays of Plautus. See the Notes to Bohn’s Translation.
37. To the burying-place)—Ver. 128. “Sepulcrum” strictly means, the tomb or place for burial, but here the funeral pile itself. When the bones were afterward buried on the spot where they were burned, it was called “bustum.”
37. To the graveyard)—Ver. 128. “Sepulcrum” literally means the tomb or burial site, but in this context, it refers to the funeral pyre itself. When the bones were later buried at the location where they were cremated, it was named “bustum.”
38. Troubles itself about that)—Ver. 185. He says this contemptuously, as if it was likely that the public should take any such great interest in his son as the father would imply by his remark. By thus saying, he also avoids giving a direct reply.
38. Worried about that)—Ver. 185. He says this dismissively, as if it’s unlikely that the public would care as much about his son as he suggests with his comment. By saying this, he also sidesteps giving a straightforward answer.
39. Davus, not Œdipus)—Ver. 194. Alluding to the circumstance of Œdipus alone being able to solve the riddle of the Sphynx.
39. Davus, not Œdipus)—Ver. 194. Referring to the fact that Œdipus was the only one who could solve the Sphinx's riddle.
40. To the mill)—Ver. 199. The “pistrinum,” or “hand-mill,” for grinding corn, was used as a mode of punishment for refractory slaves. See the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
40. To the mill)—Ver. 199. The “pistrinum,” or “hand-mill,” for grinding grain, was used as a form of punishment for disobedient slaves. See the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
41. Those in their dotage, not those who dote in love)—Ver. 218. There is a jingle intended in this line, in the resemblance between “amentium,” “mad persons,” and “amantium,” “lovers.”
41. Those in their old age, not those who are infatuated)—Ver. 218. This line features a play on words, drawing a connection between “amentium,” meaning “mad persons,” and “amantium,” meaning “lovers.”
42. They have resolved to rear)—Ver. 219. This passage alludes to the custom among the Greeks of laying new-born children on the ground, upon which the father, or other person who undertook the care of the child, lifted it from the ground, “tollebat.” In case no one took charge of the child, it was exposed, which was very frequently done in the case of female children. Plato was the first to inveigh against this barbarous practice. It is frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus.
42. They have decided to raise)—Ver. 219. This passage refers to the Greek tradition of placing newborn babies on the ground, after which the father or another caregiver would lift the child from the ground, “tollebat.” If no one took responsibility for the child, it was often abandoned, which happened quite frequently with female infants. Plato was the first to criticize this cruel practice. It is often mentioned in the plays of Plautus.
43. Hence to the Forum)—Ver. 226. Colman has the following remark: “The Forum is frequently spoken of in the Comic Authors; and from various passages in which Terence mentions it, it may be collected that it was a public place, serving the several purposes of a market, the seat of the courts of justice, a public walk, and an exchange.”
43. So, to the Forum)—Ver. 226. Colman notes: “The Forum is often referenced in the Comic Authors; and from different parts where Terence mentions it, we can gather that it was a public space used for various purposes, including a marketplace, a location for the courts, a public walkway, and a meeting place.”
44. Wine-bibbing)—Ver. 229. The nurses and midwives of antiquity seem to have been famed for their tippling propensities. In some of the Plays of Plautus we do not find them spared.
44. Drinking wine)—Ver. 229. The nurses and midwives of ancient times were known for their love of drinking. In some of Plautus' plays, they are not let off the hook.
45. Rearing some monster)—Ver. 250. “Aliquid monstri alunt.” Madame Dacier and some other Commentators give these words the rather far-fetched meaning of “They are hatching some plot.” Donatus, with much more probability, supposes him to refer to the daughter of Chremes, whom, as the young women among the Greeks were brought up in great seclusion, we may suppose Pamphilus never to have seen.
45. Raising some monster)—Ver. 250. “They are hatching some plot.” Madame Dacier and a few other commentators interpret these words in a rather stretched way. Donatus, with much more reason, thinks he is referring to Chremes' daughter, whom we can assume Pamphilus never saw, since young women in Greece were raised in such strict seclusion.
46. She is oppressed with grief)—Ver. 268. “Laborat a dolore.” Colman has the following remark upon this passage: “Though the word ‘laborat’ has tempted Donatus and the rest of the Commentators to suppose that this sentence signifies Glycerium being in labor, I can not help concurring with Cooke, that it means simply that she is weighed down with grief. The words immediately subsequent corroborate this interpretation; and at the conclusion of the Scene, when Mysis tells him that she is going for a midwife, Pamphilus hurries her away, as he would naturally have done here had he understood by these words that her mistress was in labor.”
46. She is overwhelmed with grief)—Ver. 268. “Laborat a dolore.” Colman makes the following comment on this passage: “Although the word ‘laborat’ has led Donatus and other commentators to think that this sentence means Glycerium is in labor, I can’t help but agree with Cooke that it simply means she is burdened by grief. The following words support this interpretation; and at the end of the Scene, when Mysis tells him she’s going to get a midwife, Pamphilus rushes her away, just as he would have done here if he had understood that her mistress was in labor.”
47. By your good Genius)—Ver. 289. “Per Genium tuum.” This was a common expression with the Romans, and is used by Horace, Epistles, B. i., Ep. 7:—
47. By your good Genius)—Ver. 289. “Per Genium tuum.” This was a common expression among the Romans and is referenced by Horace, Epistles, B. i., Ep. 7:—
“Quod te per Genium dextramque Deosque Penates,
“May you be guided by your spirit, your right hand, and the household gods,”
Obsecro, et obtestor—”
I beg you.
The word “Genius” signified the tutelary God who was supposed to attend every person from the period of his birth. The signification of the word will be found further referred to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
The word “Genius” referred to the guardian spirit believed to watch over every individual from the moment of their birth. The meaning of the word will be elaborated on in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
48. To fetch the midwife)—Ver. 299. Cooke has the following remark here: “Methinks Mysis has loitered a little too much, considering the business which she was sent about; but perhaps Terence knew that some women were of such a temper as to gossip on the way, though an affair of life or death requires their haste.” Colman thus takes him to task for this observation: “This two-edged reflection, glancing at once on Terence and the ladies, is, I think, very ill-founded. The delay of Mysis, on seeing the emotion of Pamphilus, is very natural; and her artful endeavors to interest Pamphilus on behalf of her mistress, are rather marks of her attention than neglect.”
48. To fetch the midwife)—Ver. 299. Cooke makes this remark here: “I think Mysis has taken a bit too long, considering what she was supposed to do; but maybe Terence understood that some women tend to chat on the way, even when it's a life-or-death situation that calls for urgency.” Colman challenges this observation: “This two-sided comment, aimed at both Terence and the ladies, is, I believe, quite misguided. Mysis’s delay, upon noticing Pamphilus’s emotions, is perfectly natural; and her clever attempts to engage Pamphilus on behalf of her mistress show more attention than neglect.”
49. Charinus and Byrrhia). We learn from Donatus that the characters of Charinus and Byrrhia were not introduced in the work of Menander, but were added to the Play of Terence, lest Philumena’s being left without a husband, on the marriage of Pamphilus to Glycerium, should appear too tragical a circumstance. Diderot is of opinion that Terence did not improve his Play by this addition.
49. Charinus and Byrrhia). Donatus tells us that the characters Charinus and Byrrhia weren’t originally in Menander’s work, but were added to Terence’s play to prevent Philumena from being left husbandless after Pamphilus marries Glycerium, which would have been too tragic. Diderot believes that Terence didn’t enhance his play by including them.
50. Tell me nothing)—Ver. 336. It has been suggested that this refers to Byrrhia’s dissuading his master from addressing Pamphilus, or else to what he has told him concerning the intended marriage. Westerhovius thinks that Byrrhia is just then whispering some trifling nonsense in his master’s ear, which he, occupied with more important cares, is unwilling to attend to.
50. Tell me nothing)—Ver. 336. It’s been suggested that this refers to Byrrhia dissuading his master from talking to Pamphilus, or what he has mentioned about the planned marriage. Westerhovius believes that Byrrhia is currently whispering some trivial nonsense in his master's ear, which he, preoccupied with more significant concerns, is reluctant to pay attention to.
51. To a high place)—Ver. 356. He probably alludes to some part of the Acropolis, the citadel, or higher part of Athens, which commanded a view of the lower town.
51. To a high place)—Ver. 356. He is likely referring to some part of the Acropolis, the citadel, or the elevated area of Athens, which overlooked the lower town.
52. Stillness before the door)—Ver. 362. Madame Dacier observes that this remark is very appropriately made by Davus, as showing that the marriage was clearly not intended by Chremes. The house of the bride on such an occasion would be thronged by her friends, and at the door would be the musicians and those who were to form part of the bridal procession.
52. Stillness before the door)—Ver. 362. Madame Dacier notes that this comment is very fitting from Davus, as it indicates that Chremes clearly did not intend the marriage. The bride's house would be bustling with her friends, and there would be musicians and those participating in the wedding procession at the door.
53. No matron at the house)—Ver. 364. By the use of the word “matrona,” he probably alludes to the “pronubæ” among the Romans, whose duties were somewhat similar to those of our bride’s-maids. At the completion of the bridal repast, the bride was conducted to the bridal chamber by matrons who had not had more than one husband.
53. No matron at the house)—Ver. 364. By using the term “matrona,” he likely refers to the “pronubæ” among the Romans, whose roles were somewhat similar to those of today’s bridesmaids. After the wedding feast, the bride was taken to the bridal chamber by matrons who had been married only once.
54. An obol’s worth)—Ver. 369. The “obelus” was the smallest Greek silver coin, and was equal in value to about three halfpence of our money. “Pisciculi minuti,” “little fish,” were much used for food among the poorer classes; “mena,” a fish resembling our pilchard, was a common article of food with the Romans. The larger kinds of fish went under the general name of “cetum.”
54. An obol’s worth)—Ver. 369. The “obelus” was the smallest Greek silver coin and was worth about three halfpennies in our currency. “Pisciculi minuti,” or “little fish,” were commonly eaten by the poorer classes; “mena,” a fish similar to our pilchard, was a common food for the Romans. The larger types of fish were generally referred to as “cetum.”
55. I have now followed him)—Ver. 414. “Hunc venientem sequor.” Cooke has the following remark on this line: “This verse, though in every edition, as Bentley judiciously observes, is certainly spurious; for as Pamphilus has not disappeared since Byrrhia left the stage, he could not say ‘nunc hunc venientem sequor.’ If we suppose the line genuine, we must at the same time suppose Terence guilty of a monstrous absurdity.” On these words Colman makes the following just observations: “Other Commentators have also stumbled at this passage; but if in the words ‘followed him hither,’ we suppose ‘him’ (hunc) to refer to Simo, the difficulty is removed; and that the pronoun really does signify Simo, is evident from the circumstance of Pamphilus never having left the stage since the disappearance of Byrrhia. Simo is also represented as coming on the stage homeward, so that Byrrhia might easily have followed him along the street; and it is evident that Byrrhia does not allude to Pamphilus from the agreeable surprise which he expresses on seeing him there so opportunely for the purpose.”
55. I have now followed him)—Ver. 414. “Hunc venientem sequor.” Cooke has the following comment on this line: “This verse, although in every edition, as Bentley wisely points out, is definitely not authentic; because since Pamphilus has not left the stage after Byrrhia went off, he couldn’t say ‘nunc hunc venientem sequor.’ If we assume the line is genuine, we would also have to assume Terence is guilty of a huge absurdity.” On these words, Colman makes the following valid points: “Other commentators have also struggled with this passage; but if we interpret the words ‘followed him hither,’ as referencing ‘him’ (hunc) to Simo, the difficulty is resolved; and that the pronoun really does refer to Simo is clear given that Pamphilus hasn’t left the stage since Byrrhia’s departure. Simo is depicted as coming on stage heading home, so Byrrhia could easily have followed him down the street; and it’s clear that Byrrhia isn’t referring to Pamphilus by the pleasant surprise he shows upon seeing him there just in time for the occasion.”
56. Inflict evil upon me)—Ver. 431. “Malum;” the usual name by which slaves spoke of the beatings they were in the habit of receiving at the hands or by the order of their irascible masters. Colman has the following remarks: “Donatus observes on this Scene between Byrrhia, Simo, Pamphilus, and Davus, that the dialogue is sustained by four persons, who have little or no intercourse with each other; so that the Scene is not only in direct contradiction to the precept of Horace, excluding a fourth person, but is also otherwise vicious in its construction. Scenes of this kind are, I think, much too frequent in Terence, though, indeed, the form of the ancient Theatre was more adapted to the representation of them than the modern. The multiplicity of speeches aside is also the chief error in this dialogue; such speeches, though very common in dramatic writers, ancient and modern, being always more or less unnatural.”
56. Do evil to me)—Ver. 431. “Malum;” the common term slaves used to refer to the beatings they regularly received from their angry masters. Colman notes: “Donatus comments on this scene with Byrrhia, Simo, Pamphilus, and Davus, saying that the dialogue involves four characters who have little to no interaction with each other. This makes the scene not only directly contradict Horace’s rule against having a fourth character, but it also has issues in its structure. I think these types of scenes are far too common in Terence, although the style of ancient theater suited them better than modern theater. The numerous aside speeches are also a major flaw in this dialogue; such speeches, while quite common among both ancient and modern playwrights, always feel somewhat unnatural.”
57. What does he say, Davus?)—Ver. 434. “Quid, Dave, narrat?” This reading Vollbehr suggests in place of the old one, “Quid Davus narrat?” and upon good grounds, as it appears. According to the latter reading we are to suppose that Davus is grumbling to himself, on which Simo says, “What does Davus say?” It seems, however, much more likely that Davus accompanies Pamphilus to the door, and speaks to him before he goes in, and then, on his return to Simo, the latter asks him, “What does he say, Davus?”
57. What does he say, Davus?)—Ver. 434. “What’s Davus saying?” This is the reading that Vollbehr suggests instead of the old one, “What does Davus say?” and it seems to be well-founded. With the latter reading, we should assume that Davus is complaining to himself, to which Simo asks, “What does Davus say?” However, it seems much more likely that Davus walks Pamphilus to the door and talks to him before he goes in, and then when he returns to Simo, the latter asks him, “What does he say, Davus?”
58. Just as much as nothing)—Ver. 434. “Æque quidquam nunc quidem.” This is a circumlocution for “nothing at all:” somewhat more literally perhaps, it might be rendered “just as much as before.” Perizonius supplies the ellipsis with a long string of Latin words, which translated would mean, “Now, indeed, he says equally as much as he says then, when he says nothing at all.”
58. Just as much as nothing)—Ver. 434. “Æque quidquam nunc quidem.” This is a roundabout way of saying “nothing at all”: more literally, it could be translated as “just as much as before.” Perizonius fills in the missing words with a lengthy phrase in Latin, which translates to, “Now, indeed, he says just as much as he did then, when he says nothing at all.”
59. Amount of ten drachmæ)—Ver. 451. The Attic drachma was a silver coin worth in value about 9¾d. of English money.
59. Amount of ten drachmæ)—Ver. 451. The Attic drachma was a silver coin worth about 9¾p. in English currency.
60. Juno Lucina)—Ver. 473. Juno Lucina had the care of women in childbed. Under this name some suppose Diana to have been worshiped. A similar incident to the present is found in the Adelphi, l. 486; and in the Aulularia of Plautus, l. 646.
60. Juno Lucina)—Ver. 473. Juno Lucina was responsible for caring for women during childbirth. Some believe that this name was used to worship Diana. A similar situation to this one can be found in the Adelphi, l. 486; and in the Aulularia of Plautus, l. 646.
61. Are your scholars forgetful?)—Ver. 477. He alludes under this term to Mysis, Lesbia, and Pamphilus, whom he supposes Davus to have been training to act their parts in the plot against him.
61. Are your scholars forgetful?)—Ver. 477. He refers to Mysis, Lesbia, and Pamphilus, whom he assumes Davus has been teaching to play their roles in the scheme against him.
62. Let her bathe)—Ver. 483. It was the custom for women to bathe immediately after childbirth. See the Amphitryon of Plautus, l. 669, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation.
62. Let her bathe)—Ver. 483. It was common for women to bathe right after giving birth. See the Amphitryon of Plautus, l. 669, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation.
63. Be laying the child)—Ver. 507. Colman has the following remark on this line:—“The art of this passage is equal to the pleasantry, for though Davus runs into this detail merely with a view to dupe the old man still further by flattering him on his fancied sagacity, yet it very naturally prepares us for an incident which, by another turn of circumstances, afterward becomes necessary.”
63. Be laying the child)—Ver. 507. Colman has the following remark on this line:—“The skill in this passage matches the humor, because although Davus goes into this detail just to trick the old man further by complimenting him on his imagined wisdom, it also naturally sets us up for an event that, due to a different twist of fate, later becomes essential.”
64. Proved to be false)—Ver. 513. That is, according to Simo’s own notion, which Davus now thinks proper to humor.
64. Proved to be false)—Ver. 513. In other words, based on Simo's own idea, which Davus now considers appropriate to entertain.
65. To Bring a child at the same time)—Ver. 515. This is a piece of roguery which has probably been practiced in all ages, and was somewhat commonly perpetrated in Greece. The reader of English history will remember how the unfortunate son of James II was said, in the face of the strongest evidence to the contrary, to have been a supposititious child brought into the queen’s chamber in a silver warming-pan.
65. To Bring a child at the same time)—Ver. 515. This is a trick that has likely been done throughout history and was somewhat commonly committed in Greece. Those familiar with English history will recall how the unfortunate son of James II was claimed, despite strong evidence to the contrary, to have been a fake child brought into the queen’s chamber in a silver warming pan.
66. But I do not think)—Ver. 563-4. “At ego non posse arbitror neque illum hane perpetuo habere.” Chremes uses an ambiguous expression here, perhaps purposely. It may mean, “I do not think that he can possibly be constant to her,” or, “that she will continue to live with him.”
66. But I don't think)—Ver. 563-4. “But I don't believe he can possibly stay loyal to her,” or, “that she will keep living with him.” Chremes uses a vague expression here, maybe intentionally.
67. A sure son-in-law)—Ver. 571. By the use of the word “firmum,” he means a son-in-law who will not be likely to resort to divorce or separation from his wife.
67. A reliable son-in-law)—Ver. 571. By using the word “firmum,” he refers to a son-in-law who is unlikely to seek divorce or separation from his wife.
68. Why isn’t the bride sent for?)—Ver. 582. Among the Greeks the bride was conducted by the bridegroom at nightfall from her father’s house, in a chariot drawn by a pair of mules or oxen, and escorted by persons carrying the nuptial torches. Among the Romans she proceeded in the evening to the bridegroom’s house; preceded by a boy carrying a torch of white thorn, or, according to some, of pine-wood. To this custom reference is indirectly made in the present passage.
68. Why isn’t the bride sent for?)—Ver. 582. Among the Greeks, the bride was taken by the groom at sunset from her father's house, in a chariot pulled by a pair of mules or oxen, and accompanied by people holding wedding torches. Among the Romans, she went in the evening to the groom’s house, led by a boy carrying a torch made of white thorn, or according to some, pine wood. This custom is indirectly referenced in the current passage.
69. I myself, indeed!)—Ver. 597. No doubt Davus says these words in sorrow and regret; Simo, however, supposes them to be uttered in exultation at the apparent success of his plans. Consequently “vero” is intended by Davus to have the sense here of “too truly.”
69. Me, really!)—Ver. 597. Davus definitely says these words out of sadness and regret; however, Simo thinks he’s saying them in excitement over the apparent success of his plans. So, in this context, “vero” is meant by Davus to convey the meaning of “too truly.”
70. To a frivolous slave)—Ver. 610. “Servo futili.” According to the Scholiast on the Thebais of Statius, B. viii. l. 297, “vas futile” was a kind of vessel with a broad mouth and narrow bottom, used in the rites of Vesta. It was made of that peculiar shape in order that the priest should be obliged to hold it during the sacrifices, and might not set it on the ground, which was considered profane; as, if set there, the contents must necessarily fall out. From this circumstance, men who could not contain a secret were sometimes called “futiles.”
70. To a frivolous slave)—Verse 610. “Frivolous servant.” According to the scholar on the Thebais of Statius, Book VIII, line 297, “futile vessel” was a type of container with a wide opening and narrow base, used in the rituals of Vesta. It was designed this way so that the priest had to hold it during sacrifices and couldn’t set it down, as that was seen as disrespectful; if it was placed on the ground, the contents would spill out. Because of this, people who couldn’t keep a secret were sometimes called “frivolous.”
71. You scoundrel)—Ver. 619. “Furcifer;” literally, wearer of the “furca,” or wooden collar. This method of punishment has been referred to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
71. You scoundrel)—Ver. 619. “Furcifer;” literally, wearer of the “furca,” or wooden collar. This method of punishment has been discussed in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
72. What do you deserve?)—Ver. 622. Madame Dacier remarks that this question is taken from the custom of the Athenians, who never condemned a criminal without first asking him what punishment he thought he deserved; and according to the nature of his answer they mitigated or increased his punishment. Tho Commentators quote a similar passage from the Frogs of Aristophanes.
72. What do you deserve?)—Ver. 622. Madame Dacier notes that this question comes from Athenian customs, where they never sentenced a criminal without first asking what punishment he believed he deserved; and depending on his response, they adjusted his punishment accordingly. The commentators reference a similar line from the Frogs by Aristophanes.
73. The cross)—Ver. 622. The “cross,” “crux,” as a punishment for refractory slaves has been remarked upon in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
73. The cross)—Ver. 622. The “cross,” “crux,” as a punishment for disobedient slaves has been noted in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
74. The circumstances)—Ver. 635. “Res.” According, however, to Donatus, this word has the meaning here of “malice” or “spitefulness.”
74. The circumstances)—Ver. 635. “Res.” However, according to Donatus, this word here means “malice” or “spitefulness.”
75. Concerned in my own interests)—Ver. 637. Equivalent to our sayings, “Charity begins at home;” “Take care of number one.”
75. Worried about my own interests)—Ver. 637. This is similar to our sayings, “Charity begins at home;” “Look out for yourself.”
76. They are not ashamed)—Ver. 638. Terence has probably borrowed this remark from the Epidicus of Plautus, l. 165-6: “Generally all men are ashamed when it is of no use; when they ought to be ashamed, then does shame forsake them, when occasion is for them to be ashamed.”
76. They are not ashamed)—Ver. 638. Terence likely took this observation from the Epidicus of Plautus, l. 165-6: “Usually, everyone feels shame when it doesn’t matter; when they should feel ashamed, that’s when shame leaves them, even when they really should be ashamed.”
77. Makes a noise)—Ver. 683. The doors with the Romans opened inwardly, while those of the Greeks opened on the outside. It was therefore usual with them, when coming out, to strike the door on the inside with a stick or with the knuckles, that those outside might be warned to get out of the way. Patrick, however, observes with some justice, that the word “concrepuit” may here allude to the creaking of the hinges. See the Curculio of Plautus, l. 160, where the Procuress pours water on the hinges, in order that Cappadox may not hear the opening of the door.
77. Makes a noise)—Ver. 683. The doors used by the Romans opened inward, while the Greeks had theirs opening outward. So, it was common for them, when exiting, to knock on the inside of the door with a stick or their knuckles, to warn those outside to move aside. Patrick, however, wisely points out that the word “concrepuit” might refer to the creaking of the hinges. See the Curculio of Plautus, l. 160, where the Procuress pours water on the hinges so that Cappadox doesn’t hear the door opening.
78. Take some sacred herbs)—Ver. 727. “Verbena” appears to have been a general term applied to any kind of herb used in honor of the Deities, or to the boughs and leaves of any tree gathered from a pure or sacred place. Fresh “verbenæ” were placed upon the altars every day. See the Mercator of Plautus, l. 672.
78. Take some sacred herbs)—Ver. 727. “Verbena” seems to have been a common term for any herb used in worship of the Deities, or for the branches and leaves of any tree collected from a clean or sacred spot. Fresh “verbenæ” were placed on the altars daily. See the Mercator of Plautus, l. 672.
79. From the altar here)—Ver. 727. It was usual to have altars on the stage; when Comedy was performed, one on the left hand in honor of Apollo, and on the representation of Tragedy, one on the right in honor of Bacchus. It has been suggested that Terence here alludes to the former of these. As, however, at Athens almost every house had its own altar in honor of Apollo Prostaterius just outside of the street door, it is most probable that to one of these altars reference is here made. They are frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus.
79. From the altar here)—Ver. 727. It was common to have altars on the stage; during a Comedy performance, there was one on the left side dedicated to Apollo, and for a Tragedy, one on the right side dedicated to Bacchus. Some have suggested that Terence is referring to the former. However, since almost every home in Athens had its own altar dedicated to Apollo Prostaterius just outside the street door, it’s most likely that this is what is being referred to here. These altars are often mentioned in the Plays of Plautus.
80. Which I had first purposed, I now give up)—Ver. 734. His first intention no doubt was to go and inform Simo of the child being laid at the door.
80. Which I had first intended, I now abandon)—Ver. 734. His initial plan was clearly to go and tell Simo about the child being left at the door.
81. Whenever there’s necessity)—Ver. 737. He retires without fully explaining his intention to Mysis; consequently, in the next Scene she gives an answer to Chremes which Davus does not intend.
81. Whenever there’s necessity)—Ver. 737. He leaves without fully explaining his intention to Mysis; as a result, in the next scene she gives an answer to Chremes that Davus didn't mean for her to give.
82. Stuffed out beneath her clothes)—Ver. 771. “Suffarcinatam.” He alludes to the trick already referred to as common among the Greeks, of the nurses and midwives secretly introducing supposititious children; see l. 515 and the Note.
82. Stuffed out beneath her clothes)—Ver. 771. “Suffarcinatam.” He refers to the trick previously mentioned that was common among the Greeks, where nurses and midwives secretly brought in fake children; see l. 515 and the Note.
83. Several free women were present)—Ver. 772. She speaks of “liberæ,” “free women,” because in Greece as well as Italy slaves were not permitted to give evidence. See the Curculio of Plautus, l. 621, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation. See also the remark of Geta in the Phormio, l. 293.
83. A number of free women were present)—Ver. 772. She refers to "liberæ," “free women,” because in both Greece and Italy, slaves were not allowed to testify. See the Curculio of Plautus, l. 621, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation. Also, check out Geta's comment in the Phormio, l. 293.
84. Constrained by the laws)—Ver. 782. He alludes to a law at Athens which compelled a man who had debauched a free-born woman to marry her. This is said by Davus with the view of frightening Chremes from the match.
84. Constrained by the laws)—Ver. 782. He refers to a law in Athens that required a man who had seduced a free-born woman to marry her. Davus mentions this to scare Chremes away from the marriage.
85. She ought to be carried off)—Ver. 787. He says this implying that Mysis, who is a slave, ought to be put to the torture to confess the truth; as it was the usual method at Athens to force a confession from slaves by that method. We find in the Hecyra, Bacchis readily offering her slaves to be put to the torture, and in the Adelphi the same custom is alluded to in the scene between Micio, Hegio, and Geta.
85. She should be taken away)—Ver. 787. He suggests this, meaning that Mysis, who is a slave, should be tortured to reveal the truth; it was normal practice in Athens to extract confessions from slaves through torture. We see in the Hecyra that Bacchis is quick to offer her slaves for torture, and the same practice is mentioned in the scene between Micio, Hegio, and Geta in the Adelphi.
86. Descended to me by law)—Ver. 800. On the supposition that Chrysis died without a will, Crito as her next of kin would be entitled to her effects.
86. Passed down to me by law)—Ver. 800. Assuming that Chrysis died without a will, Crito, as her closest relative, would inherit her belongings.
87. Is Chrysis then——?)—Ver. 804. This is an instance of Aposiopesis; Crito, much affected, is unwilling to name the death of Chrysis. It was deemed of ill omen to mention death, and numerous Euphemisms or circumlocutions were employed in order to avoid the necessity of doing so.
87. Is Chrysis then——?)—Ver. 804. This is an example of Aposiopesis; Crito, feeling very emotional, doesn't want to say Chrysis's death. It was considered bad luck to mention death, and many euphemisms or roundabout ways were used to avoid having to do so.
88. Warn me, a stranger)—Ver. 812. Patrick has the following remarks upon this passage: “Madame Dacier observes that it appears, from Xenophon’s Treatise on the policy of the Athenians, that all the inhabitants of cities and islands in alliance with Athens were obliged in all claims to repair thither, and refer their cause to the decision of the people, not being permitted to plead elsewhere. We can not wonder then that Crito is unwilling to engage in a suit so inconvenient from its length, expense, and little prospect of success.” She might have added that such was the partiality and corruptness of the Athenian people, that, being a stranger, his chances of success would probably be materially diminished.
88. Warn me, a stranger)—Ver. 812. Patrick makes the following points about this passage: “Madame Dacier notes that, according to Xenophon’s Treatise on the policy of the Athenians, all residents of cities and islands allied with Athens had to go there for any claims and have their cases decided by the people, with no option to plead elsewhere. It's no surprise that Crito is hesitant to start a lawsuit that would be so inconvenient due to its length, cost, and slim chances of success.” She could have also mentioned that because of the bias and corruption among the Athenian people, being a stranger would likely diminish his chances of success significantly.
89. You set in motion)—Ver. 865. By the use of the word “Commotus” he seems to allude to the wretched, restless existence of a man tied hand and foot, and continually working at the hand-mill. Westerhovius thinks that Simo uses this word sarcastically, in allusion to the words of Davus, at the beginning of the present Scene, “Animo otioso esse impero;” “I bid you set your minds at ease.”
89. You set in motion)—Ver. 865. By using the word “Commotus,” he appears to reference the miserable, restless life of a man tied up and constantly working at the hand-mill. Westerhovius believes that Simo uses this term sarcastically, referring to Davus's earlier words in the current scene, “Animo otioso esse impero;” “I tell you to relax your minds.”
90. Hands and feet together)—Ver. 866. “Quadrupedem.” Literally “as a quadruped” or “all fours.” Echard remarks that it was the custom of the Athenians to tie criminals hands and feet together, just like calves.
90. Hands and feet together)—Ver. 866. “Quadrupedem.” Literally “like a quadruped” or “on all fours.” Echard notes that it was common practice among the Athenians to bind the hands and feet of criminals together, similar to how they would do with calves.
91. Without regard to the custom and the law)—Ver. 880. There was a law among the Athenians which forbade citizens to marry strangers, and made the offspring of such alliances illegitimate; the same law also excluded such as were not born of two citizens from all offices of trust and honor.
91. Regardless of custom and law)—Ver. 880. There was a law among the Athenians that prohibited citizens from marrying outsiders, and considered the children of those unions illegitimate; this same law also barred anyone not born of two citizens from holding any positions of trust or honor.
92. Could opportunely suggest to him)—Ver. 919. Colman has the following remark on this line: “Madame Dacier and several English Translators make Pamphilus say that he could give Crito a hint or two. What hints he could propose to suggest to Crito, I can not conceive. The Italian translation, printed with the Vatican Terence, seems to understand the words in the same manner that I have translated them, in which sense (the pronoun ‘illum’ referring to Simo instead of Crito) they seem to be the most natural words of Pamphilus on occasion of his father’s anger and the speech immediately preceding.”
92. Could conveniently suggest to him)—Ver. 919. Colman has the following remark on this line: “Madame Dacier and several English translators interpret Pamphilus as saying he could give Crito a hint or two. What hints he could offer to Crito, I can't imagine. The Italian translation, printed with the Vatican Terence, appears to interpret the words the same way I have translated them, where the pronoun ‘illum’ refers to Simo instead of Crito, making them the most logical words from Pamphilus in response to his father's anger and the speech right before.”
93. A sharper)—Ver. 920. “Sycophanta.” For some account of the “sycophantæ,” “swindlers” or “sharpers” of ancient times, see the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, Bohn’s Translation.
93. A sharper)—Ver. 920. “Sycophanta.” For more information on the “sycophants,” “swindlers,” or “sharpers” of ancient times, check the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, Bohn’s Translation.
94. A long time ago)—Ver. 924. The story begins with “Olim,” just in the same way that with us nursery tales commence with “There was, a long time ago.”
94. A long time ago)—Ver. 924. The story starts with “Olim,” just like how our nursery tales begin with “Once upon a time.”
95. A citizen of Rhamnus)—Ver. 931. Rhamnus was a maritime town of Attica, near which many of the more wealthy Athenians had country-seats. It was famous for the Temple of Nemesis there, the Goddess of Vengeance, who was thence called “Rhamnusia.” In this Temple was her statue, carved by Phidias out of the marble which the Persians brought to Greece for the purpose of making a statue of Victory out of it, and which was thus appropriately devoted to the Goddess of Retribution. The statue wore a crown, and had wings, and, holding a spear of ash in the right hand, it was seated on a stag.
95.A citizen of Rhamnus)—Ver. 931. Rhamnus was a coastal town in Attica, where many wealthy Athenians had vacation homes. It was known for the Temple of Nemesis, the Goddess of Vengeance, who was often referred to as “Rhamnusia.” Inside this temple was her statue, carved by Phidias from marble that the Persians brought to Greece to create a statue of Victory, which was fittingly dedicated to the Goddess of Retribution. The statue featured a crown, had wings, and held an ash spear in her right hand while seated on a stag.
96. One difficulty)—Ver. 941. “Scrupus,” or “scrupulus,” was properly a stone or small piece of gravel which, getting into the shoe, hurt the foot; hence the word figuratively came to mean a “scruple,” “difficulty,” or “doubt.” We have a similar expression: “to be graveled.”
96. One difficulty)—Ver. 941. “Scrupus,” or “scrupulus,” originally referred to a small stone or piece of gravel that would get stuck in your shoe and hurt your foot; so, the term figuratively evolved to mean a “scruple,” “difficulty,” or “doubt.” We have a similar expression: “to be gravelled.”
97. A knot in a bulrush)—Ver. 942. “Nodum in scirpo quærere” was a proverbial expression implying a desire to create doubts and difficulties where there really were none; there being no knots in the bulrush. The same expression occurs in the Menæchmi of Plautus, l. 247.
97. A knot in a bulrush)—Ver. 942. “Nodum in scirpo quærere” was a saying that meant trying to create doubts and problems where there were none, as bulrushes don't have knots. The same saying appears in the Menæchmi of Plautus, l. 247.
98. Of course——Then be it so)—Ver. 951. “Nempe id. Scilicet.” Colman has the following remark on this line: “Donatus, and some others after him, understand these words of Simo and Pamphilus as requiring a fortune of Chremes with his daughter; and one of them says that Simo, in order to explain his meaning, in the representation, should produce a bag of money. This surely is precious refinement, worthy the genius of a true Commentator. Madame Dacier, who entertains a just veneration for Donatus, doubts the authenticity of the observation ascribed to him. The sense I have followed is, I think, the most obvious and natural interpretation of the words of Pamphilus and Simo, which refers to the preceding, not the subsequent, speech of Chremes.”
98. Of course——Then let it be so)—Ver. 951. “Obviously.” Colman has the following comment on this line: “Donatus, and some others after him, interpret these words from Simo and Pamphilus as demanding a fortune from Chremes for his daughter; and one of them suggests that Simo, to clarify his meaning, should present a bag of money during the performance. This is certainly a valuable insight, reflecting the brilliance of a true commentator. Madame Dacier, who has a genuine respect for Donatus, questions the authenticity of the comment attributed to him. The meaning I have followed seems to me the most straightforward and natural interpretation of Pamphilus and Simo’s words, which relates to the earlier speech of Chremes, not the later one.”
99. He is not rightly bound)—Ver. 956. “Non recte vinctus;” meaning “it was not well done to bind him.” The father pretends to understand him as meaning (which he might equally well by using the same words), “non satis stricte,” “he wasn’t tightly enough” bound; and answers “I ordered that he should be,” referring to his order for Davus to be bound hand and foot. Donatus justly observes that the disposition of the old gentleman to joke is a characteristic mark of his thorough reconciliation.
99. He is not rightly bound)—Ver. 956. “Non recte vinctus;” meaning “it wasn’t right to bind him.” The father pretends to understand him as meaning (which he could have just as easily meant by using the same words), “non satis stricte,” “he wasn’t bound tightly enough;” and responds, “I ordered that he should be,” referring to his instruction for Davus to be tied up hand and foot. Donatus rightly points out that the old gentleman’s tendency to joke is a clear sign of his complete reconciliation.
100. Their joys are their own)—Ver. 961. Westorhovius remarks that he seems here to be promulgating the doctrine of Epicurus, who taught that the Deities devoted themselves entirely to pleasure and did not trouble themselves about mortals. Donatas observes that these are the doctrines of Epicurus and that the whole sentence is copied from the Eunuch of Menander; to which practice of borrowing from various Plays, allusion is made in the Prologue, where he mentions the mixing of plays; “contaminari fabulas.”
100. Their joys are their own)—Ver. 961. Westorhovius notes that it seems like he’s promoting Epicurus’s idea, which stated that the gods focused completely on pleasure and didn’t concern themselves with humans. Donatas points out that these are the beliefs of Epicurus and that the entire sentence is taken from Menander's Eunuch; this practice of borrowing from various plays is referenced in the Prologue, where he discusses mixing plays, “contaminari fabulas.”
101. Grant us your applause)—Ver. 982. “Plaudite.” Colman has the following remark at the conclusion of this Play: “All the old Tragedies and Comedies acted at Rome concluded in this manner. ‘Donec cantor vos “Plaudite” dicat,’ says Horace. Who the ‘cantor’ was, is a matter of dispute. Madame Dacier thinks it was the whole chorus; others suppose it to have been a single actor; some the prompter, and some the composer. Before the word ‘Plaudite’ in all the old copies is an Ω which has also given rise to several learned conjectures. It is most probable, according to the notion of Madame Dacier, that this Ω, being the last letter of the Greek alphabet, was nothing more than the mark of the transcriber to signify the end, like the Latin word ‘Finis’ in modern books; or it might, as Patrick supposes, stand for Ωδος, ‘cantor,’ denoting that the following word ‘Plaudite’ was spoken by him. After ‘Plaudite’ in all the old copies of Terence stand these two words, ‘Calliopius recensui;’ which signify, ‘I, Calliopius, have revised and corrected this piece.’ And this proceeds from the custom of the old critics, who carefully revised all Manuscripts, and when they had read and corrected any work, certified the same by placing their names at the end of it.”
101. Grant us your applause)—Ver. 982. “Plaudite.” Colman notes at the end of this play: “All the old tragedies and comedies performed in Rome ended this way. ‘Until the singer says “Plaudite,”’ says Horace. There’s some debate about who the ‘singer’ was. Madame Dacier believes it was the entire chorus; others think it was a single actor, some say the prompter, and others the composer. In all the old copies, there’s a Ω before the word ‘Plaudite,’ which has led to various scholarly theories. Madame Dacier suggests that this Ω, being the last letter of the Greek alphabet, was simply a marker from the transcriber to indicate the end, similar to the Latin word ‘Finis’ in modern books; or, as Patrick suggests, it could represent Ωδος, ‘singer,’ indicating that the following word ‘Plaudite’ was said by him. In all the old copies of Terence, after ‘Plaudite’ are the two words ‘Calliopius recensui;’ meaning, ‘I, Calliopius, have reviewed and corrected this work.’ This comes from the tradition of the old critics, who meticulously reviewed all manuscripts, and when they finished reading and correcting a work, they certified it by putting their names at the end.”
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EUNUCHUS;
THE EUNUCH.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Laches,1 an aged Athenian. Laches, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ an older Athenian. |
|
Phædria,2 Phædria, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chærea,3 Chærea, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ |
his sons. his kids. |
Chremes,5 a young man, brother of Pamphila. Chremes, a young man, brother of Pamphila. Thraso,6 a boastful Captain. Thraso, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a flashy Captain. Gnatho,7 a Parasite. Gnatho, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a leech. Parmeno,8 servant of Phædria. Parmeno, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ servant of Phædria. Sanga,9 cook to Thraso. Sanga, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ chef to Thraso. |
|
Donax,10 Donax, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Simalio,11 Simalio, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Syriscus,12 Syriscus,__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ |
servants of Thraso. Thraso's servants. |
Dorus,15 a Eunuch slave. Dorus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a eunuch slave. Thais,13 a Courtesan. Thais, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Escort. |
|
Pythias,14 Pythias, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Dorias,15 Dorias,__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ |
her attendants. her friends. |
Sophrona,16 a nurse. Sophrona, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a nurse. Pamphila,17 a female slave. Pamphila, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a female servant. |
Scene.—Athens; before the houses of Laches and Thais.
Scene.—Athens; in front of the houses of Laches and Thais.
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THE SUBJECT.
A certain citizen of Athens had a daughter named Pamphila, and a son called Chremes. The former was stolen while an infant, and sold to a Rhodian merchant, who having made a present of her to a Courtesan of Rhodes, she brought her up with her own daughter Thais, who was somewhat older. In the course of years, Thais following her mother’s way of life, removes to Athens. Her mother dying, her property is put up for sale, and Pamphila is purchased as a slave by Thraso, an officer and an admirer of Thais, who happens just then to be visiting Rhodes. During the absence of Thraso, Thais becomes acquainted with Phædria, an Athenian youth, the son of Laches; she also discovers from Chremes, who lives near Athens, that Pamphila, her former companion, is his sister. Thraso returns, intending to present to her the girl he has bought, but determines not to do so until she has discarded Phædria. Finding that the girl is no other than Pamphila, Thais is at a loss what to do, as she both loves Phædria, and is extremely anxious to recover Pamphila. At length, to please the Captain, she excludes Phædria, but next day sends for him, and explains to him her reasons, at the same time begging of him to allow Thraso the sole right of admission to her house for the next two days, and assuring him that as soon as she shall have gained possession of the girl, she will entirely throw him off. Phædria consents, and resolves to spend these two days in the country; at the same time he orders Parmeno to take to Thais a Eunuch and an Æthiopian girl, whom he has purchased for her. The Captain also sends Pamphila, who is accidentally seen by Chærea, the younger brother of Phædria; he, being smitten with her beauty, prevails upon Parmeno to introduce him into the house of Thais, in the Eunuch’s dress. Being admitted there, in the absence of Thais, he ravishes the damsel. Shortly afterward Thraso quarrels with Thais, and comes with all his attendants to her house to demand the return of Pamphila, but is disappointed. In conclusion, Pamphila is recognized by her brother Chremes, and is promised in marriage to Chremes; while Thraso becomes reconciled to Phædria, through the mediation of Gnatho, his Parasite.
A specific citizen of Athens had a daughter named Pamphila and a son named Chremes. Pamphila was kidnapped as a baby and sold to a Rhodian merchant, who gave her to a Courtesan in Rhodes. The Courtesan raised her alongside her own daughter, Thais, who was a bit older. Over the years, Thais followed her mother’s lifestyle and moved to Athens. When her mother died, her belongings were put up for sale, and Pamphila was bought as a slave by Thraso, an officer and admirer of Thais, who happened to be visiting Rhodes at the time. While Thraso was away, Thais met Phædria, a young man from Athens and the son of Laches. She also learned from Chremes, who lived near Athens, that Pamphila, her former companion, was his sister. Thraso returned, planning to give Thais the girl he had purchased but decided to hold off until she had broken things off with Phædria. When Thais discovered that the girl was Pamphila, she was torn between her love for Phædria and her desire to get Pamphila back. Ultimately, to please Thraso, she pushed Phædria away but then sent for him the next day, explaining her reasons and asking him to allow Thraso exclusive access to her house for the next two days, assuring him that once she secured Pamphila, she would completely cut ties with him. Phædria agreed and decided to spend those two days in the countryside. He also instructed Parmeno to take a Eunuch and an Ethiopian girl he had bought for Thais. Meanwhile, Thraso sent Pamphila to Thais, and she was accidentally seen by Chærea, Phædria’s younger brother. Enchanted by her beauty, he convinced Parmeno to let him enter Thais’s house disguised as the Eunuch. Once inside, during Thais’s absence, he assaulted Pamphila. Soon after, Thraso had a falling out with Thais and went with his followers to her house to demand Pamphila’s return, only to be disappointed. In the end, Pamphila was recognized by her brother Chremes and promised in marriage to him, while Thraso made peace with Phædria through the help of Gnatho, his Parasite.
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THE TITLE18 OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Megalensian Games; L. Posthumius Albinus and L. Cornelius Merula being Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio and L. Atilius Præsnestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to two treble flutes. From the Greek of Menander. It was acted twice,19 M. Valerius and C. Fannius being Consuls.20
Executed at the Megalensian Games; L. Posthumius Albinus and L. Cornelius Merula were the Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio and L. Atilius Præsnestinus put on the performance. Flaccus, who was a freedman of Claudius, composed the music for two treble flutes. It was based on a work by Menander. It was performed twice,19 with M. Valerius and C. Fannius serving as Consuls.20
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EUNUCHUS;
THE EUNUCH.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
The Captain, Thraso, being ignorant of the same, has brought from abroad a girl who used wrongly to be called the sister of Thais, and presents her to Thais herself: she in reality is a citizen of Attica. To the same woman, Phædria, an admirer of Thais, orders a Eunuch whom he has purchased, to be taken, and he himself goes away into the country, having been entreated to give up two days to Thraso. A youth, the brother of Phædria, having fallen in love with the damsel sent to the house of Thais, is dressed up in the clothes of the Eunuch. Parmeno prompts him; he goes in; he ravishes the maiden; but at length her brother being discovered, a citizen of Attica, betroths her who has been ravished, to the youth, and Thraso prevails upon Phædria by his entreaties.
The Captain, Thraso, unaware of the truth, has brought from abroad a girl who was mistakenly referred to as Thais's sister and presents her to Thais herself: she actually is a citizen of Attica. To the same woman, Phædria, who is in love with Thais, arranges for a Eunuch he has purchased to be brought, and he himself goes out to the country, having been asked to give Thraso two days of his time. A young man, Phædria's brother, falls in love with the girl sent to Thais's house, and he dresses up in the Eunuch's clothes. Parmeno encourages him; he goes in; he seduces the girl; but eventually, when her brother is discovered, a citizen of Attica, he betroths the ravished girl to the young man, and Thraso persuades Phædria with his pleas.
THE PROLOGUE.
If there is any one who desires to please as many good men as possible, and to give offense to extremely few, among those does our Poet enroll his name. Next, if there is one who thinks21 that language too harsh, is here applied to him, let him bear this in mind—that it is an answer, not an attack; inasmuch as he has himself been the first aggressor; who, by translating plays verbally,22 and writing them in bad Latin, has made out of good Greek Plays Latin ones by no means good. 67 Just as of late he has published the Phasma23 [the Apparition] of Menander; and in the Thesaurus [the Treasure] has described24 him from whom the gold is demanded, as 68 pleading his cause why it should be deemed his own, before the person who demands it has stated how this treasure belongs to him, or how it came into the tomb of his father. Henceforward, let him not deceive himself, or fancy thus, “I have now done with it; there’s nothing that he can say to me.” I recommend him not to be mistaken, and to refrain from provoking me. I have many other points, as to which for the present he shall be pardoned, which, however, shall be brought forward hereafter, if he persists in attacking me, as he has begun to do. After the Ædiles had purchased the Eunuch of Menander, the Play which we are about to perform, he managed to get an opportunity of viewing it.25 When the magistrates were present it began to be performed. He exclaimed that a thief, no Poet, had produced the piece, but still had not deceived26 him; that, in fact, it was the Colax, an old Play of Plautus;27 and that from it were taken the characters of the Parasite and the Captain. 69 If this is a fault, the fault is the ignorance of the Poet; not that he intended to be guilty of theft. That so it is, you will now be enabled to judge. The Colax is a Play of Menander’s; in it there is Colax, a Parasite, and a braggart Captain: he does not deny that he has transferred these characters into his Eunuch from the Greek; but assuredly he does deny this, that he was aware that those pieces had been already translated into Latin. But if it is not permitted us to use the same characters as others, how can it any more be allowed to represent hurrying servants,28 to describe virtuous matrons, artful courtesans, the gluttonous 70 parasite, the braggart captain, the infant palmed off, the old man cajoled by the servant, about love, hatred, suspicion? In fine, nothing is said now that has not been said before. Wherefore it is but just that you should know this, and make allowance, if the moderns do what the ancients used to do. Grant me your attention, and give heed in silence, that you may understand what the Eunuch means.
If anyone wants to please as many good people as possible and offend very few, our Poet counts himself among them. Next, if someone finds the language too harsh, this is not meant as an attack but as a response; he was the first to provoke it by translating plays literally,21 and writing them in poor Latin, turning great Greek Plays into mediocre Latin ones. 67 Recently, he published the Phasma23 [the Apparition] of Menander; and in the Thesaurus [the Treasure], he described24 the person demanding gold, arguing why it should belong to him, before the person making the demand has stated how this treasure is his, or how it ended up in his father’s tomb. From now on, he shouldn’t deceive himself or think, “I’m done with this; he can’t say anything more to me.” I advise him not to make a mistake and to avoid provoking me. There are many other issues I could raise, for now, I’ll let him off the hook, but if he continues to attack me as he has started doing, I will bring them up later. After the Ædiles bought Menander's Eunuch, the Play we are about to perform, he took the chance to see it.25 When the magistrates were there, it began to be performed. He shouted that a thief, not a Poet, had produced the piece, but he still hadn’t fooled26 him; that, in fact, it was the Colax, an old Play by Plautus;27 and that the characters of the Parasite and the Captain were taken from it. 69 If this is a fault, the fault lies with the Poet’s ignorance, not an intention to steal. You can now judge how it is. The Colax is a Play by Menander, where there is a Colax, a Parasite, and a boastful Captain: he does not deny he has brought these characters into his Eunuch from the Greek, but he certainly denies knowing that these pieces had already been translated into Latin. But if we aren’t allowed to use the same characters as others, how can it be permissible to depict rushing servants, portray virtuous wives, clever courtesans, greedy parasites, boastful captains, the infant being passed off, and the old man fooled by the servant, about love, hatred, suspicion? Ultimately, nothing is said now that hasn’t been said before. Therefore, it’s only fair that you know this and allow for it if modern writers do what the ancients did. Grant me your attention, and listen quietly, so you understand what the Eunuch is about.
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Phædria and Parmeno.
Enter Phædria and Parmeno.
Phæd. What, then, shall I do?29 Ought I not to go, not now even, when I am sent for of her own accord? Or ought I rather so to behave myself as not to put up with affronts from Courtesans? She shut her door against me; she now invites me back. Ought I to return? No; though she should implore me.
Phaedrus. What should I do then?29 Should I go, especially now that she’s asking for me herself? Or should I act in a way that shows I won’t accept disrespect from Courtesans? She turned me away before; now she’s inviting me back. Should I go back? No, even if she begs me to.
Par. I’faith, if indeed you only can, there’s nothing better or more spirited; but if you begin, and can not hold out stoutly, and if, when you can not endure it, while no one asks you, peace being not made, you come to her of your own accord, showing that you love her, and can not endure it, you are done for; it’s all over with you; you are ruined outright. She’ll be jilting you, when she finds you overcome. Do you then, while there’s time, again and again reflect upon this, master, that a matter, which in itself admits of neither prudence nor moderation, you are unable to manage with prudence. In love there are all these evils; wrongs, suspicions, enmities, reconcilements, war, then peace; if you expect to render these things, naturally uncertain, certain by dint of reason, you wouldn’t effect it a bit the more than if you were to use your endeavors to be 71 mad with reason. And, what you are now, in anger, meditating to yourself, “What! I to her?30 Who—him! Who—me! Who wouldn’t? Only let me alone; I had rather die; she shall find out what sort of a person I am;” these expressions, upon my faith, by a single false tiny tear, which, by rubbing her eyes, poor thing, she can hardly squeeze out perforce, she will put an end to; and she’ll be the first to accuse you; and you will be too ready to give satisfaction to her.
Par. Honestly, if you really can, there’s nothing better or more passionate; but if you start and can’t keep it up, and if, when you can’t take it anymore and no one is pushing you, you go to her willingly, showing that you love her and can’t handle it, you’re done for; it’s game over for you; you’re completely ruined. She’ll ditch you once she sees you’ve given in. So, while you still have time, think about this over and over, master: a situation that doesn’t allow for any discretion or moderation is one you won’t manage wisely. In love, there are all these problems: wrongs, doubts, conflicts, making up, war, and then peace. If you think you can turn these naturally uncertain things into certainties through logic, you won’t succeed any more than trying to reason yourself into madness. And what you’re now angrily telling yourself, “What! Me go to her? Who—him! Who—me! Who wouldn’t? Just leave me alone; I’d rather die; she’ll find out what kind of person I am;” those thoughts, I swear, with just a single tiny tear, which, poor thing, she can hardly squeeze out by rubbing her eyes, she will end all of that; and she’ll be the first to blame you, and you’ll be too quick to try to make things right with her.
Phæd. O disgraceful conduct! I now perceive, both that she is perfidious, and that I am a wretched man. I am both weary of her, and burn with passion; knowing and fully sensible, alive and seeing it, I am going to ruin; nor do I know what I am to do.
Phaedrus. What a disgraceful situation! I now see that she is untrustworthy, and that I am a miserable man. I'm both tired of her and consumed with desire; I know and feel it, aware and seeing it, I am headed for destruction; and I don't know what to do.
Par. What you are to do? Why, only to redeem yourself, thus captivated, at the smallest price you can; if you can not at a very small rate, still for as little as you can; and do not afflict yourself.
Par. What should you do? Just redeem yourself, thus captivated, for the least amount possible; if you can’t do it for a tiny price, then for as little as you can; and don’t stress yourself out.
Phæd. Do you persuade me to this?
Phaedrus. Are you trying to convince me of this?
Par. If you are wise. And don’t be adding to the troubles which love itself produces; those which it does produce, bear patiently. But see, here she is coming herself, the downfall of our fortunes,31—for that which we ought ourselves to enjoy she intercepts.
Par. If you're smart. And don’t make the problems that love creates any worse; the ones it creates, handle them with patience. But look, here she comes, the cause of our downfall, 31—because she gets in the way of what we should enjoy for ourselves.
Scene II.
Enter Thais from her house.
Enter Thais from her home.
Thais (to herself, not seeing them.) Ah wretched me! I fear lest Phædria should take it amiss or otherwise than I intended it, that he was not admitted yesterday.
Thai (to herself, not seeing them.) Oh, poor me! I'm worried that Phædria might misunderstand or take it differently than I meant it because he wasn't let in yesterday.
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Phæd. (aside to Parmeno.) I’m trembling and shivering all over, Parmeno, at the sight of her.
Phaedrus. (aside to Parmeno.) I’m shaking and quivering all over, Parmeno, at the sight of her.
Par. (apart.) Be of good heart; only approach this fire,32 you’ll soon be warmer than you need.
Par. (apart.) Stay positive; just come closer to this fire, 32 and you’ll be warmer than you need to be.
Thais (turning round.) Who is it that’s speaking here? What, are you here, my Phædria? Why are you standing here! Why didn’t you come into the house at once?
Thais (turning around.) Who's talking here? What, is that you, my Phædria? Why are you just standing there? Why didn't you come inside right away?
Par. (whispering to Phædria.) But not a word about shutting you out!
Par. (whispering to Phædria.) But don’t say anything about keeping you out!
Thais. Why are you silent?
Thais. Why are you quiet?
Phæd. Of course, it’s because33 this door is always open to me, or because I’m the highest in your favor?
PhD. Of course, it’s because33 this door is always open to me, or because I’m your favorite?
Thais. Pass those matters by.
Thais. Let those things go.
Phæd. How pass them by? O Thais, Thais, I wish that I had equal affection with yourself, and that it were in like degree, that either this, might distress you in the same way that it distresses me, or that I might be indifferent at this being done by you.
Phaid. How can I just ignore them? Oh Thais, Thais, I wish I felt the same way you do, and that my feelings matched yours. I either want this to bother you as much as it bothers me, or I want to be indifferent about what you do.
Thais. Prithee, don’t torment yourself, my life, my Phædria. Upon my faith, I did it, not because I love or esteem any person more than you; but the case was such that it was necessary to be done.
Thais. Please, don’t torture yourself, my dear, my Phædria. I swear, I did it not because I love or value anyone more than you; but the situation was such that it had to be done.
Par. (ironically.) I suppose that, poor thing, you shut him out of doors, for love, according to the usual practice.
Par. (ironically.) I guess that, poor thing, you kicked him out for love, just like everyone else usually does.
Thais. Is it thus you act, Parmeno? Well, well. (To Phædria.) But listen—the reason for which I desired you to be sent for hither—
Thai people. Is that how you’re going to behave, Parmeno? Alright, alright. (To Phædria.) But listen—the reason I asked for you to be brought here—
Phæd. Go on.
Go ahead.
Thais. First tell me this; can this fellow possibly hold his tongue? (pointing to Parmeno.)
Thai people. First, tell me this: can this guy actually keep quiet? (pointing to Parmeno.)
Par. What, I? Perfectly well. But, hark you, upon 73 these conditions I pledge my word to you; the truth that I hear, I’m silent upon, and retain it most faithfully; but if I hear what’s false and without foundation, it’s out at once; I’m full of chinks, and leak in every direction. Therefore, if you wish it to be kept secret, speak the truth.
Par. What, me? I'm doing just fine. But listen, under 73 these conditions, I give you my word; the truth I hear, I’ll keep quiet about and hold onto it completely; but if I hear something that’s false and unfounded, it’s going to come out immediately; I’m full of holes and leak in every direction. So, if you want it to stay a secret, speak the truth.
Thais. My mother was a Samian; she lived at Rhodes—
Thais. My mom was from Samos; she lived in Rhodes—
Par. That may be kept a secret.
Par. That can be kept a secret.
Thais. There, at that period, a certain merchant made present to my mother of a little girl, who had been stolen away from Attica here.
Thai people. Back then, a merchant gave my mother a little girl who had been kidnapped from Attica.
Par. What, a citizen?
What, a citizen?
Thais. I think so; we do not know for certain: she herself used to mention her mother’s and her father’s name; her country and other tokens she didn’t know, nor, by reason of her age, was she able. The merchant added this: that he had heard from the kidnappers that she had been carried off from Sunium.34 When my mother received her, she began carefully to teach her every thing, and to bring her up, just as though she had been her own daughter. Most persons supposed that she was my sister. Thence I came hither with that stranger, with whom alone at that period I was connected; he left me all which I now possess—
Thais. I think so; we don’t know for sure: she herself used to mention her mother’s and father’s names; her country and other details she didn’t know, nor, because of her age, was she able to. The merchant added that he had heard from the kidnappers that she had been taken from Sunium.34 When my mother took her in, she began to carefully teach her everything, and raise her as if she were her own daughter. Most people thought she was my sister. That’s how I ended up here with that stranger, the only person I was connected to at that time; he left me everything I now have—
Par. Both these things are false; out it goes.
Par. Both of these things are untrue; it's out of here.
Thais. How so?
Thais. How's that?
Par. Because you were neither content with one, nor was he the only one to make you presents; for he likewise (pointing to Phædria) brought a pretty considerable share to you.
Par. Because you weren't satisfied with just one person, and he wasn't the only one giving you gifts; since he also (pointing to Phædria) contributed a pretty decent amount to you.
Thais. Such is the fact; but do allow me to arrive at the point I wish. In the mean time, the Captain, who had begun to take a fancy to me, set out to Caria;35 since when, in the interval, I became acquainted with you. You yourself are aware how very dear I have held you; and how I confess to you all my nearest counsels.
Thais. That's the truth; but please let me get to the point I want to make. In the meantime, the Captain, who had started to take a liking to me, set out for Caria;35 and during that time, I got to know you. You know how much I care for you and how I share all my closest thoughts with you.
Phæd. Nor will Parmeno be silent about that.
Phaedrus. And Parmeno won’t keep quiet about that either.
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Par. O, is that a matter of doubt?
Par. Oh, is that something we need to question?
Thais. Attend; I entreat you. My mother died there recently; her brother is somewhat greedy after wealth. When he saw that this damsel was of beauteous form and understood music, hoping for a good price, he forthwith put her up for sale, and sold her. By good fortune this friend of mine was present; he bought her as a gift to me, not knowing or suspecting any thing of all this. He returned; but when he perceived that I had formed a connection with you as well, he feigned excuses on purpose that he might not give her; he said that if he could feel confidence that he should be preferred to yourself by me, so as not to apprehend that, when I had received her, I should forsake him, then he was ready to give her to me; but that he did fear this. But, so far as I can conjecture, he has set his affections upon the girl.
Thai people. Please listen; I beg you. My mother recently passed away; her brother is a bit greedy for money. When he saw that this girl was beautiful and talented at music, hoping for a good price, he immediately put her up for sale and sold her. Fortunately, this friend of mine was there; he bought her as a gift for me, completely unaware of the situation. He returned, but when he realized I had developed feelings for you too, he made up excuses so he wouldn’t have to give her to me. He said that if he could be confident I would choose him over you, not worrying that once I received her I would abandon him, then he would be willing to give her to me; but he was afraid of that. However, from what I can gather, he's become attached to the girl.
Phæd. Any thing beyond that?
Phæd. Anything else?
Thais. Nothing; for I have made inquiry. Now, my Phædria, there are many reasons why I could wish to get her away from him. In the first place, because she was called my sister; moreover, that I may restore and deliver her to her friends. I am a lone woman; I have no one here, neither acquaintance nor relative; wherefore, Phædria, I am desirous by my good offices to secure friends. Prithee, do aid me in this, in order that it may be the more easily effected. Do allow him for the few next days to have the preference with me. Do you make no answer?
Thai people. Nothing; I’ve asked around. Now, my Phædria, there are plenty of reasons I want to get her away from him. First, because she was called my sister; also, I want to return her to her friends. I’m all alone; I don’t know anyone here, neither friends nor family; that's why, Phædria, I want to help secure some friends. Please help me with this, so it can be done more easily. Let him have the priority with me for the next few days. Are you not going to answer?
Phæd. Most vile woman! Can I make you any answer after such behavior as this?
Phaedrus Most despicable woman! Can I possibly respond to you after such behavior?
Par. Well done, my master, I commend you; (aside) he’s galled at last. (To Phædria.) You show yourself a man.
Par. Great job, my master, I commend you; (aside) he’s finally irritated. (To Phaedria.) You’re proving yourself to be a real man.
Phæd. I was not aware what you were aiming at; “she was carried away from here, when a little child; my mother brought her up as though her own; she was called my sister; I wish to get her away, that I may restore her to her friends.” The meaning is, that all these expressions, in fine, now amount to this, that I am shut out, he is admitted. For what reason? Except that you love him more than me: and now you are afraid of her who has been brought hither, lest she should win him, such as he is, from yourself.
Phaedrus. I didn't understand what you were getting at; “She was taken from here when she was just a little kid; my mother raised her like her own; she was called my sister; I want to take her away so I can return her to her friends.” What this really means is that all of these statements ultimately lead to this: I’m being excluded, while he is being welcomed. Why? Just because you care about him more than you care about me: and now you’re worried about her being brought here, afraid she might win him over from you, just as he is.
Thais. I, afraid of that?
Thais. Am I scared of that?
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Phæd. What else, then, gives you concern? Let me know. Is he the only person who makes presents? Have you found my bounty shut against you? Did I not, when you told me that you wished for a servant-maid from Æthiopia,36 setting all other matters aside, go and seek for one? Then you said that you wanted a Eunuch, because ladies of quality37 alone make use of them; I found you one. I yesterday paid twenty minæ38 for them both. Though slighted by you, I still kept these things in mind; as a reward for so doing, I am despised by you.
Phaedrus. What else is bothering you? Let me know. Is he the only one who gives gifts? Have you found my generosity missing? When you mentioned you wanted a maid from Ethiopia, I set everything else aside and went to find one for you. Then you said you needed a Eunuch, since only women of high status use them; I found you one. Yesterday, I paid twenty minæ for both of them. Even though you’ve ignored me, I still remembered these things; and for my efforts, I'm looked down upon by you.
Thais. Phædria, what does this mean? Although I wish to get her away, and think that by these means it could most probably be effected; still, rather than make an enemy of you, I’ll do as you request me.
Thais. Phædria, what does this mean? Even though I want to get her away and believe that this could likely work, I'd rather not make an enemy out of you, so I'll do what you ask.
Phæd. I only wish that you used that expression from your heart and truthfully, “rather than make an enemy of you.” If I could believe that this was said sincerely, I could put up with any thing.
Phaedrus. I just wish that you meant that expression genuinely, “rather than make an enemy of you.” If I could trust that you said this sincerely, I could handle anything.
Par. (aside.) He staggers; how instantaneously is he vanquished by a single expression!
Par. (aside.) He stumbles; it's incredible how he's defeated by just one word!
Thais. I, wretched woman, not speak from my heart? What, pray, did you ever ask of me in jest, but that you carried your point? I am unable to obtain even this of you, that you would grant me only two days.
Thais. Am I such a miserable woman that I can't speak from my heart? What, I ask you, did you ever request of me in fun, except to get your way? I'm not even able to get you to give me just two days.
Phæd. If, indeed, it is but two days; but don’t let these days become twenty.
Phaedrus. If it really is just two days; but don’t let those two days turn into twenty.
Thais. Assuredly not more than two days, or—
Thais. Definitely no more than two days, or—
Phæd. “Or?” I won’t have it.
Phæd. “Or?” I won't accept that.
Thais. It shall not be; only do allow me to obtain this of you.
Thais. That won't happen; just let me have this from you.
Phæd. Of course that which you desire must be done.
Phaedrus. Of course, what you want has to be done.
Thais. I love you as you deserve; you act obligingly.
Thai people. I love you the way you deserve; you’re always so accommodating.
Phæd. (to Parmeno.) I shall go into the country; there I shall worry myself for the next two days: I’m resolved to do 76 so; Thais must be humored. Do you, Parmeno, take care that they are brought hither.
Phaedrus. (to Parmeno.) I'm going to the countryside; I’ll stress about things for the next two days: I’m determined to do that; Thais needs to be accommodated. You, Parmeno, make sure they are brought here.
Par. Certainly.
Sure.
Phæd. For the next two days then, Thais, adieu.
PhD. For the next two days then, Thais, goodbye.
Thais. And the same to you, my Phædria; do you desire aught else?
Thai people. And you too, my Phædria; do you want anything else?
Phæd. What should I desire? That, present with the Captain, you may be as if absent; that night and day you may love me; may feel my absence; may dream of me; may be impatient for me; may think about me; may hope for me; may centre your delight in me; may be all in all with me; in fine, if you will, be my very life, as I am yours.
Phaedrus. What do I want? That when you're with the Captain, you still feel like you’re away; that night and day you love me, feel my absence, dream about me, become impatient for me, think of me, hope for me, find all your joy in me, and that in the end, you'll be my everything, just as I am yours.
Exeunt Phædria and Parmeno.
Exeunt Phædria and Parmeno.
Scene III.
Thais alone.
Thais by herself.
Thais, (to herself.) Ah wretched me!39 perhaps now he puts but little faith in me, and forms his estimate of me from the dispositions of other women.40 By my troth, I, who know my own self, am very sure of this, that I have not feigned any thing that’s false, and that no person is dearer to my heart than this same Phædria; and whatever 77 in the present case I have done, for this girl’s sake have I done it; for I trust that now I have pretty nearly discovered her brother, a young man of very good family; and he has appointed this day to come to me at my house. I’ll go hence in-doors, and wait until he comes.
Thais, (to herself.) Oh, how miserable I am!39 Maybe now he has little faith in me and judges me based on the behavior of other women.40 I swear, I, who know myself well, am absolutely sure of this: I haven’t pretended to be anything I’m not, and there’s no one dearer to my heart than this same Phædria; and everything I’ve done in this situation, I’ve done for this girl; because I believe I’ve pretty much figured out who her brother is, a young man from a great family; and he has chosen today to come to my house. I’ll head inside now and wait for him to arrive.
She goes into her house.
She enters her house.
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.
Enter Phædria and Parmeno.
Enter Phædria and Parmeno.
Phæd. Mind that those people are taken there, as I ordered.
Phèd. Keep in mind that those people are taken there, as I asked.
Par. I’ll do so.
Par. I’ll totally do that.
Phæd. And carefully.
Phæd. And make sure.
Par. It shall be done.
Par. It will be done.
Phæd. And with all speed.
Phæd. And quickly.
Par. It shall be done.
Par. It will be done.
Phæd. Have you had sufficient instructions?
Phæd. Have you received enough instructions?
Par. Dear me! to ask the question, as though it were a matter of difficulty. I wish that you were able, Phædria, to find any thing as easily as this present will be lost.
Par. Oh my! to ask the question as if it's hard. I wish you, Phædria, could find anything as easily as this will be lost.
Phæd. Together with it, I myself am lost, which concerns me more nearly. Don’t bear this with such a feeling of vexation.
PhD. Along with that, I myself am lost, and that worries me even more. Don’t take this with such irritation.
Par. By no means; on the contrary, I’ll see it done. But do you order any thing else?
Par. Not at all; in fact, I’ll make sure it gets done. But do you want me to arrange anything else?
Phæd. Set off my present with words, as far as you can; and so far as you are able, do drive away that rival of mine from her.
Phased. Start my gift with some kind words, as much as you can; and as much as you can, please keep that rival of mine away from her.
Par. Pshaw! I should have kept that in mind, even if you hadn’t reminded me.
Par. Ugh! I should have thought of that, even if you hadn’t brought it up.
Phæd. I shall go into the country and remain there.
Ph.D. I'm going to head out to the countryside and stay there.
Par. I agree with you. (Moves as if going.)
Par. I’m with you. (Starts to leave.)
Phæd. But hark you!
Phæd. But listen!
Par. What is it you want?
Par. What do you want?
Phæd. Are you of opinion that I can muster resolution and hold out so as not to come back within the time?
Phaedrus. Do you think I can gather the strength and stick it out to not come back in time?
Par. What, you? Upon my faith, I don’t think so; for 78 either you’ll be returning at once, or by-and-by, at night, want of sleep will be driving you hither.
Par. What, you? Honestly, I don’t think so; because either you'll be coming back right away, or later at night, the lack of sleep will bring you here.
Phæd. I’ll do some laborious work, that I may be continually fatigued, so as to sleep in spite of myself.
Phaedrus. I’ll do some hard work, so I can be constantly tired enough to sleep despite myself.
Par. When wearied, you will be keeping awake; by this you will be making it worse.
Par. When you're tired, you'll stay awake; this will just make things worse.
Phæd. Oh, you talk to no purpose, Parmeno: this softness of spirit, upon my faith, must be got rid of; I indulge myself too much. Could I not do without her, pray, if there were the necessity, even for a whole three days?
PhD. Oh, you're talking nonsense, Parmeno: I really need to shake off this softness. I'm pampering myself too much. Could I not manage without her, seriously, if it came down to it, even for three whole days?
Par. Whew! an entire three days! Take care what you are about.
Par. Wow! Three whole days! Be careful with what you're doing.
Phæd. My mind is made up.
Phæd. I've made up my mind.
Exit.
Log out.
Scene II.
Parmeno alone.
Parmeno by himself.
Par. (to himself.) Good Gods! What a malady is this! That a man should become so changed through love, that you wouldn’t know him to be the same person! Not any one was there41 less inclined to folly than he, and no one more discreet or more temperate. But who is it that’s coming this way? Heyday! surely this is Gnatho, the Captain’s Parasite; he’s bringing along with him the damsel as a present to her. Heavens! How beautiful! No wonder if I make but a sorry figure here to-day with this decrepit Eunuch of mine. She surpasses Thais herself.
Par. (to himself.) Good grief! What a sickness this is! That a man can change so much because of love, you wouldn’t even recognize him as the same person! No one was less prone to foolishness than he was, and no one was more discreet or more self-controlled. But who’s that coming this way? Wow! Is that Gnatho, the Captain’s sycophant? He’s bringing the girl with him as a gift for her. Wow! She’s stunning! No wonder I look like a mess today next to this old Eunuch of mine. She even tops Thais herself.
Stands aside.
Steps aside.
SCENE III.
Enter Gnatho at a distance, leading Pamphila.
Enter Gnatho from afar, leading Pamphila.
Gna. (to himself.) Immortal Gods! how much does one man excel another! What a difference there is between a wise person and a fool! This strongly came into my 79 mind from the following circumstance. As I was coming along to-day, I met a certain person of this place, of my own rank and station, no mean fellow, one who, like myself, had guttled away his paternal estate; I saw him, shabby, dirty, sickly, beset with rags and years;—“What’s the meaning of this garb?” said I; he answered, “Because, wretch that I am, I’ve lost what I possessed: see to what I am reduced,—all my acquaintances and friends forsake me.” On this I felt contempt for him in comparison with myself. “What!” said I, “you pitiful sluggard, have you so managed matters as to have no hope left? Have you lost your wits together with your estate? Don’t you see me, who have risen from the same condition? What a complexion I have, how spruce and well dressed, what portliness of person? I have every thing, yet have nothing; and although I possess nothing, still, of nothing am I in want.” “But I,” said he, “unhappily, can neither be a butt nor submit to blows.”42 “What!” said I, “do you suppose it is managed by those means? You are quite mistaken. Once upon a time, in the early ages, there was a calling for that class; this is a new mode of coney-catching; I, in fact, have been the first to strike into this path. There is a class of men who strive to be the first in every thing, but are not; to these I make my court; I do not present myself to them to be laughed at; but I am the first to laugh with them, and at the same time to admire their parts: whatever they say, I commend; if they contradict that self-same thing, I commend again. Does any one deny? I deny: does he affirm? I affirm: in fine, I have so trained myself as to 80 humor them in every thing. This calling is now by far the most productive.”
Gonna. (to himself.) Immortal Gods! How much one person stands out compared to another! What a huge gap there is between a wise person and a fool! This really hit me today when I met someone from this area, someone of my own status, not a bad person, but like me, he had squandered his inheritance. I saw him looking shabby, dirty, and sickly, dressed in rags from years of decline; I asked, “What’s with the outfit?” He replied, “Because, wretched as I am, I’ve lost everything: look at what I’ve become—all my friends and acquaintances have abandoned me.” At that moment, I felt a sense of disdain for him in comparison to myself. “What!” I exclaimed, “you miserable sluggard, have you really let yourself reach a point where you have no hope left? Did you lose your mind along with your fortune? Don’t you see me, someone who came from the same place? Look at my complexion, how well-dressed I am, my robust appearance! I have everything, yet I have nothing; even though I own nothing, I still don’t lack for anything.” “But I,” he said, “unfortunately, can’t be a target or put up with hits.” 42 “What!” I replied, “do you really think it works that way? You’re completely wrong. Back in the day, there was a need for your position; this is just a new kind of trickery. I’m actually the first to step into this role. There are people who try to be the best at everything but fail; I cater to them. I don’t present myself to be ridiculed; I’m the first to laugh while also admiring their talents: whatever they say, I applaud; if they suddenly contradict themselves, I applaud again. Does anyone deny? I deny: do they affirm? I affirm: in short, I’ve trained myself to support them in everything. This path is currently the most rewarding.”
Par. (apart.) A clever fellow, upon my faith! From being fools he makes men mad outright.
Paragraph. (apart.) A smart guy, I swear! He drives men completely crazy instead of just being foolish.
Gna. (to himself, continuing.) While we were thus talking, in the mean time we arrived at the market-place; overjoyed, all the confectioners ran at once to meet me; fishmongers,43 butchers, cooks,44 sausage-makers, and fishermen, whom, both when my fortunes were flourishing and when they were ruined, I had served, and often serve still: they complimented me, asked me to dinner, and gave me a hearty welcome. When this poor hungry wretch saw that I was in such great esteem, and that I obtained a living so easily, then the fellow began to entreat me that I would allow him to learn this method of me; I bade him become my follower45 if he could; as the disciples of the Philosophers take their names from the Philosophers themselves, so too, the Parasites ought to be called Gnathonics.
Gnar. (to himself, continuing.) While we were talking, we arrived at the market square; all the confectioners rushed to greet me with joy. Fishmongers, butchers, cooks, sausage-makers, and fishermen, whom I had helped during both my prosperous times and my struggles, welcomed me warmly and invited me to dinner. As this poor hungry guy saw how well-liked I was and how easily I was making a living, he begged me to let him learn my way of doing things. I told him he could become my follower if he was up for it; just as the students of the Philosophers take their names from the Philosophers themselves, so too should the Parasites be called Gnathonics.
Par. (apart to the Audience.) Do you see the effects of ease and feeding at another’s cost?
Par. (aside to the Audience.) Do you see how easy living and benefiting from someone else's efforts can affect a person?
Gna. (to himself, continuing.) But why do I delay to take this girl to Thais, and ask her to come to dinner? (Aside, on seeing Parmeno.) But I see Parmeno, our rival’s servant, waiting before the door of Thais with a sorrowful air; all’s safe; no doubt these people are finding a cold welcome. I’m resolved to have some sport with this knave.
Gonna. (to himself, continuing.) But why am I hesitating to take this girl to Thais and invite her to dinner? (Apart, noticing Parmeno.) But I see Parmeno, our rival’s servant, standing by Thais's door looking sad; everything’s fine; no doubt these people are getting a chilly reception. I’m determined to have some fun with this guy.
Par. (aside.) They fancy that, through this present, Thais is quite their own.
Par. (aside.) They believe that, through this gift, Thais is totally theirs.
Gna. (accosting Parmeno.) With his very best wishes 81 Gnatho greets Parmeno, his very good friend.—What are you doing?
Gonna. (approaching Parmeno.) With his warmest wishes 81 Gnatho greets Parmeno, his close friend.—What’s up?
Par. I’m standing.46
I’m standing.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Gna. So I perceive. Pray, do you see any thing here that don’t please you?
Gonna. So I see. Do you notice anything here that you don't like?
Par. Yourself.
Par. Be yourself.
Gna. I believe you,—but any thing else, pray?
Gna. I believe you,—but is there anything else, please?
Par. Why so?
Par. Why's that?
Gna. Because you are out of spirits.
Gna. Because you’re feeling low.
Par. Not in the least.
Not at all.
Gna. Well, don’t be so; but what think you of this slave? (pointing to her.)
Gnah. Well, don’t be so; but what do you think of this slave? (pointing to her.)
Par. Really, not amiss.
Par. Really, not a problem.
Gna. (aside.) I’ve galled the fellow.
Gna. (aside) I’ve annoyed the guy.
Par. (aside, on overhearing him.) How mistaken you are in your notion!
Par. (aside, upon hearing him.) You are so wrong in your thinking!
Gna. How far do you suppose this gift will prove acceptable to Thais?
Gonna. How do you think Thais will react to this gift?
Par. It’s this you mean to say now, that we are discarded there. Hark you, there are vicissitudes in all things.
Par. Is this what you’re saying now, that we’ve been cast aside? Listen, there are ups and downs in everything.
Gna. For the next six months, Parmeno, I’ll set you at ease; you sha’n’t have to be running to and fro, or sitting up till daylight. Don’t I make you happy?
Gonna. For the next six months, Parmeno, I’ll make sure you’re comfortable; you won’t have to be running around or staying up until dawn. Am I making you happy?
Par. Me? O prodigiously!
Me? Oh, absolutely!
Gna. That’s my way with my friends.
Gonna. That's how I am with my friends.
Par. I commend you.
Par. I applaud you.
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Gna. I’m detaining you; perhaps you were about to go somewhere else.
Gonna. I’m holding you up; maybe you were just about to head somewhere else.
Par. Nowhere.
Nowhere.
Gna. In that case then, lend me your services a little; let me be introduced to her.
Gonna. In that case, please help me out; I need to be introduced to her.
Par. Very well; (Gnatho knocks at the door, which immediately opens) now the door is open for you, (aside) because you are bringing her.
Par. Alright; (Gnatho knocks on the door, which immediately opens) now the door is open for you, (aside) because you’re bringing her.
Gna. (going into the house of Thais, ironically.) Should you like any one to be called out from here?
Gna. (walking into Thais' house, sarcastically.) Do you want me to bring anyone out from here?
Goes in with Pamphila, and shuts the door.
Goes in with Pamphila and closes the door.
Scene IV.
Parmeno, alone.
Parmeno, all alone.
Par. (to himself.) Only let the next two days go by; you who, at present, in such high favor, are opening the door with one little finger, assuredly I’ll cause to be kicking at that door full oft, with your heels, to no purpose.
Par. (to himself.) Just let the next two days pass; you, who right now are in such good favor, are opening the door with just one little finger, but I’ll make sure you’ll be kicking at that door time and again, with your heels, to no avail.
Re-enter Gnatho from the house.
Re-enter Gnatho from the house.
Gna. Still standing here, Parmeno? Why now, have you been left on guard here, that no go-between might perchance be secretly running from the Captain to her?
Gonna. Are you still standing here, Parmeno? Why have you been left to keep watch? Is it so that no messenger can sneak away from the Captain to her?
Exit.
Leave.
Par. Smartly said; really they ought to be wonderful things to please the Captain. But I see my master’s youngest son coming this way; I wonder why he has come away from the Piraeus,47 for he is at present on guard there in the public service. It’s not for nothing; he’s coming in a hurry, too; I can’t imagine why he’s looking around in all directions.
Par. Well said; they really should be amazing things to please the Captain. But I see my master's youngest son approaching; I wonder why he's come away from the Piraeus, 47 since he's currently on duty there for the public service. It's not without reason; he's also rushing, and I can't figure out why he's looking around in all directions.
Scene V.
Enter Chærea on the other side of the stage, in haste.
Enter Chairea on the other side of the stage, quickly.
Chæ. (to himself.) I’m utterly undone! The girl is nowhere; 83 nor do I know where I am myself, to have lost sight of her. Where to inquire for her, where to search for her, whom to ask, which way to turn, I’m at a loss. I have only this hope; wherever she is, she can not long be concealed. O what beauteous features! from this moment I banish all other women from my thoughts; I can not endure these every-day beauties.
Chay. (to himself.) I'm completely lost! The girl is nowhere to be found; 83 and I don't even know where I am to have lost sight of her. Where should I ask about her, where should I look for her, who should I talk to, which way should I go—I’m clueless. I only have this one hope; wherever she is, she can’t stay hidden for long. Oh, what beautiful features! From this moment on, I’ll ignore all other women; I can’t stand these ordinary beauties.
Par. (apart.) Why look, here’s the other one. He’s saying something, I don’t know what, about love. O unfortunate old man, their father! This assuredly is a youth, who, if he does begin, you will say that the other one was mere play and pastime, compared with what the madness of this one will cause.
Par. (apart.) Look, here’s the other one. He’s talking about something, I don’t know what, about love. Oh, unfortunate old man, their father! This is definitely a young guy who, if he starts, you’ll say the other one was just a game and fun compared to the chaos this one will bring.
Chæ. (to himself, aloud.) May all the Gods and Goddesses confound that old fellow who detained me to-day, and me as well who stopped for him, and in fact troubled myself a straw about him. But see, here’s Parmeno. (Addressing him.) Good-morrow to you.
Cha. (to himself, aloud.) May all the gods and goddesses curse that old guy who held me up today, and me too for stopping for him, and honestly, for even bothering to care about him. But look, here’s Parmeno. (Addressing him.) Good morning to you.
Par. Why are you out of spirits, and why in such a hurry? Whence come you?
Par. Why are you feeling down, and why are you in such a rush? Where are you coming from?
Chæ. What, I? I’faith, I neither know whence I’m come, nor whither I’m going; so utterly have I lost myself.
Chae. What, me? Honestly, I have no idea where I came from or where I'm headed; I’ve completely lost myself.
Par. How, pray?
How, please?
Chæ. I’m in love.
Chæ. I’m in love.
Par. (starting.) Ha!
Par. (starting.) Haha!
Chæ. Now, Parmeno, you may show what sort of a man you are. You know that you often promised me to this effect: “Chærea, do you only find some object to fall in love with; I’ll make you sensible of my usefulness in such matters,” when I used to be storing up my father’s provisions for you on the sly in your little room.48
Chae. Now, Parmeno, it's time for you to show what kind of guy you really are. You know you often promised me something like this: “Chærea, if you just find someone to fall in love with, I’ll prove how helpful I can be in those situations,” when I used to secretly stash away my father's supplies for you in your little room.48
Par. To the point, you simpleton.
Par. Straightforward, you fool.
Chæ. Upon my faith, this is the fact. Now, then, let your promises be made good, if you please, or if indeed the affair is a deserving one for you to exert your energies upon. The girl isn’t like our girls, whom their mothers are 84 anxious to have with shoulders kept down, and chests well girthed,49 that they may be slender. If one is a little inclined to plumpness, they declare that she’s training for a boxer,50 and stint her food; although their constitutions are good, by their treatment they make them as slight as bulrushes; and so for that reason they are admired, forsooth.
Chill. Honestly, this is the truth. Now, please make your promises good, if you’re willing, or if this situation is worth your effort. The girl isn’t like our girls, whose mothers are worried about keeping their shoulders down and their chests tightly bound, so they look slender. If a girl is a bit on the chubby side, they claim she’s training to be a boxer and cut back on her food; even though their health is fine, the way they treat them makes them as thin as reeds, and for that reason, they are admired, truly.
Par. What sort of a girl is this one of yours?
Par. What kind of girl is this one you’re with?
Chæ. A new style of beauty.
Chæ. A new beauty trend.
Par. (ironically.) Astounding!
Wow!
Par. Her age?
Par. How old is she?
Chæ. Her age? Sixteen.
Chæ. Age? Sixteen.
Par. The very flower of youth.53
The prime of youth. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Chæ. Do you make it your care to obtain her for me either by force, stealth, or entreaty; so that I only gain her, it matters not how to me.
Chae. Please do whatever it takes to get her for me—whether that's by force, sneaking around, or begging. I just want to have her, no matter how it happens.
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Par. Well, but to whom does the damsel belong?
Par. Well, but who does the girl belong to?
Chæ. That, i’faith, I don’t know.
Chæ. I honestly don’t know.
Par. Whence did she come?
Par. Where did she come from?
Chæ. That, just as much.
Chæ. That, same here.
Par. Where does she live?
Par. Where does she stay?
Chæ. Nor yet do I know that.
Chæ. I still don’t know that.
Par. Where did you see her?
Where did you see her?
Chæ. In the street.
Chæ. On the street.
Par. How did you come to lose her?
Par. How did you end up losing her?
Chæ. Why, that’s what I was just now fretting myself about; and I do not believe that there is one individual to whom all good luck is a greater stranger than to myself. What ill fortune this is! I’m utterly undone!
Chill. That's exactly what I've been stressing over; I really don't think there's anyone out there who has worse luck than I do. What bad luck this is! I'm completely finished!
Par. What’s the matter?
Par. What's wrong?
Chæ. Do you ask me? Do you know Archidemides, my father’s kinsman and years’-mate?
Chai. Are you asking me? Do you know Archidemides, my dad's relative and someone who’s the same age as him?
Par. Why not?
Par. Why not?
Chæ. He, while I was in full pursuit of her, met me.
Chae. He ran into me while I was completely focused on chasing after her.
Par. Unseasonably, upon my faith.
Unseasonably, I swear.
Chæ. Aye, unhappily, rather; for other ordinary matters are to be called “unseasonable,” Parmeno. It would be safe for me to make oath that I have not seen him for fully these six or seven months, until just now, when I least wanted, and there was the least occasion. Come now! isn’t this like a fatality? What do you say?
Cha. Yeah, unfortunately, that's true; because other ordinary things can be called “unlucky,” Parmeno. I swear I haven't seen him in six or seven months, until just now, when I wanted to the least, and there was the least reason to. Come on! Doesn’t this feel like a curse? What do you think?
Par. Extremely so.
Par. Super so.
Chæ. At once he came running up to me, from a considerable distance, stooping, palsied, hanging his lip, and wheezing. “Halloo, Chærea! halloo!” said he; “I’ve something to say to you.” I stopped. “Do you know what it is I want with you?” said he. “Say on,” said I. “To-morrow my cause comes on,” said he. “What then?” “Be sure and tell your father to remember and be my advocate54 in the 86 morning.” In talking of this, an hour elapsed.55 I inquired if he wanted any thing else. “That’s all,” said he. I left him. When I looked in this direction for the damsel, she had that very instant turned thia way down this street of ours.
Chill. He came running up to me from far away, bending over, shaky, with his lip hanging, and wheezing. “Hey, Chærea! Hey!” he said; “I’ve got something to tell you.” I paused. “Do you know what it is I need from you?” he asked. “Go ahead,” I replied. “Tomorrow my case is going to court,” he said. “What about it?” “Make sure to remind your dad to back me up54 in the morning.” While we talked about this, an hour went by.55 I asked if he needed anything else. “That’s it,” he said. I walked away. When I looked over in the direction of the girl, she had just turned this way down our street.
Par. (aside.) It’s a wonder if he doesn’t mean her who has just now been made a present of to Thais here.
Par. (aside.) I wonder if he’s talking about the one who was just gifted to Thais here.
Chæ. When I got here, she was nowhere to be seen.
Chae. When I arrived, she was nowhere in sight.
Par. Some attendants, I suppose, were accompanying the girl?
Par. I guess some attendants were with the girl?
Chæ. Yes; a Parasite, and a female servant.
Cha. Yes; a parasite and a female servant.
Par. (apart.) It’s the very same. (To Chærea.) It’s all over with you; make an end of it; you’ve said your last.56
Par. (apart.) It’s exactly the same. (To Charea.) It’s finished for you; just wrap it up; you’ve said your final words.56
Chæ. You are thinking about something else.
Chæ. You're distracted.
Par. Indeed I’m thinking of this same matter.
Par. I'm really thinking about this too.
Chæ. Pray, tell me, do you know her, or did you see her?
Chai. Please, tell me, do you know her, or have you seen her?
Par. I did see, and I do know her; I am aware to what house she has been taken.
Par. I saw her, and I know her; I know which house she has been taken to.
Chæ. What, my dear Parmeno, do you know her, and are you aware where she is?
Chay. What, my dear Parmeno, do you know her, and do you know where she is?
Par. She has been brought here (pointing) to the house of Thais the Courtesan.57 She has been made a present to her.
Par. She has been brought here (pointing) to the house of Thais the Courtesan.57 She has been given to her as a gift.
Chæ. What opulent person is it, to be presenting a gift so precious as this?
Chê. Who is this wealthy person giving such a precious gift?
Par. The Captain Thraso, Phædria’s rival.
The Captain Thraso, Phædria’s rival.
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Chæ. An unpleasant business for my brother, it should seem.
Chill. It seems like a tough situation for my brother.
Par. Aye, and if you did but know what present he is pitting against this present, you would say so still more.
Par. Yes, and if you only knew what gift he is comparing to this one, you would say even more.
Chæ. Troth now, what is it, pray?
Chæ. Seriously, what is that?
Par. A Eunuch.58
A Eunuch. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Chæ. What! that unsightly creature, pray, that he purchased yesterday, an old woman?
Chay. What! That ugly thing, please tell me, he bought yesterday, an old woman?
Par. That very same.
Same here.
Chæ. To a certainty, the gentleman will be bundled out of doors, together with his present; but I wasn’t aware that this Thais is our neighbor.
Chay. For sure, the guy will be kicked out along with his gift, but I didn’t realize that this Thais lives next door.
Par. It isn’t long since she came.
Par. She just arrived.
Chæ. Unhappy wretch that I am! never to have seen her, even. Come now, just tell me, is she as handsome as she is reported to be?59
Chill. What a miserable person I am! I’ve never even seen her. Come on, just tell me, is she as beautiful as they say?59
Par. Quite.
Par. For sure.
Chæ. But nothing in comparison with this damsel of mine?
Chae. But nothing compared to this girl of mine?
Par. Another thing altogether.
Par. A whole different thing.
Chæ. Troth now, Parmeno, prithee do contrive for me to gain possession of her.
Chae. Honestly now, Parmeno, please come up with a way for me to win her over.
Par. I’ll do my best, and use all my endeavors; I’ll lend you my assistance. (Going.) Do you want any thing else with me?
Par. I'll do my best and put in all my effort; I'll help you out. (Going.) Is there anything else you need from me?
Chæ. Where are you going now?
Chæ. Where are you headed now?
Par. Home; to take those slaves to Thais, as your brother ordered me.
Par. I'm going home to take those slaves to Thais, just like your brother instructed me.
Chæ. Oh, lucky Eunuch that! really, to be sent as a present to that house! 88 Par. Why so?
Chae. Oh, that lucky eunuch! Seriously, getting sent as a gift to that house! 88 Par. Why's that?
Chæ. Do you ask? Ho will always see at home a fellow-servant of consummate beauty, and he conversing with her; he will be in the same house with her; sometimes he will take his meals with her; sometimes sleep near her.
Chill. Do you want to know? He will always find a stunning fellow servant at home, and he will be talking to her; he will be in the same house with her; sometimes he will have meals with her; sometimes he will sleep close to her.
Par. What now, if you yourself were to be this fortunate person?
Par. What if you were this lucky person?
Chæ. By what means, Parmeno? Tell me.
Chæ. How? Tell me, Parmeno.
Par. Do you assume his dress.
Do you assume his outfit?
Chæ. His dress! Well, what then?
Chæ. His outfit! So what?
Par. I’ll take you there instead of him.
Par. I'll take you there instead of him.
Chæ. (musing.) I hear you.
Chæ. (thinking.) I hear you.
Par. I’ll say that you are he.
Par. I’ll say that you are him.
Chæ. I understand you.
Chæ. I get you.
Par. You may enjoy those advantages which you just now said he would enjoy; you may take your meals together with her, be in company with her, touch her, dally with her, and sleep by her side; as not one of these women is acquainted with you, nor yet knows who you are. Besides, you are of an age and figure that you may easily pass for a eunuch.
Par. You might enjoy those benefits that you just mentioned he would enjoy; you can have meals with her, spend time with her, touch her, flirt with her, and sleep next to her; since none of these women know you or even know who you are. Also, you are at an age and have a look that makes it easy for you to be mistaken for a eunuch.
Chæ. You speak to the purpose; I never knew better counsel given. Well, let’s go in at once; dress me up, take me away, lead me to her, as fast as you can.
Chae. You make a great point; I've never heard better advice. Alright, let’s go in right now; get me ready, take me away, and lead me to her as quickly as possible.
Par. What do you mean? Really, I was only joking.
Par. What do you mean? Honestly, I was just kidding.
Chæ. You talk nonsense.
Chæ. You're speaking nonsense.
Par. I’m undone! Wretch that I am! what have I done? (Chærea pushes him along.) Whither are you pushing me? You’ll throw me down presently. I entreat you, be quiet.
Par. I’m a mess! What have I done? (Charea pushes him along.) Where are you pushing me? You’re going to knock me down soon. Please, just be quiet.
Chæ. Let’s be off. (Pushes him.)
Chæ. Let’s go. (Pushes him.)
Par. Do you still persist?
Par. Are you still at it?
Chæ. I am resolved upon it.
Chæ. I'm committed to it.
Par. Only take care that this isn’t too rash a project.
Par. Just make sure that this isn’t too hasty of a plan.
Chæ. Certainly it isn’t; let me alone for that.
Chai. Of course it isn’t; just leave that to me.
Par. Aye, but I shall have to pay the penalty60 for this?
Par. Yeah, but do I have to face the consequences for this?
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Chæ. Pshaw!
Chæ. Whatever!
Par. We shall be guilty of a disgraceful action.
Par. We're going to do something really shameful.
Chæ. What, is it disgraceful61 to be taken to the house of a Courtesan, and to return the compliment upon those tormentors who treat us and our youthful age so scornfully, and who are always tormenting us in every way;—to dupe them just as we are duped by them? Or is it right and proper that in preference my father should be wheedled out of his money by deceitful pretexts? Those who knew of this would blame me; while all would think the other a meritorious act.
Cha. What, is it shameful61 to go to a Courtesan's house and get back at those tormentors who treat us and our youth with such contempt, constantly bothering us in every possible way;—to outsmart them just like they outsmart us? Or should it be considered acceptable that my father is tricked out of his money by their deceitful excuses? Those who know about this would criticize me; meanwhile, everyone would see the other as a good deed.
Par. What’s to be done in such case? If you are determined to do it, you must do it: but don’t you by-and-by be throwing the blame upon me.
Par. What should we do in this situation? If you’re set on doing it, then go ahead: but don’t later put the blame on me.
Chæ.. I shall not do so.
Chæ. I won't do that.
Par. Do you order me, then?
Par. Are you telling me to?
Chæ. I order, charge, and command you; I will never disavow my authorizing you.
Chae. I command you; I will never deny that I authorized you.
Par. Follow me; may the Gods prosper it!
Par. Follow me; may the Gods bless it!
They go into the house of Laches.
They enter Laches' house.
ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Thraso and Gnatho.
Enter Thraso and Gnatho.
Thra. Did Thais really return me many thanks?
Thra. Did Thais actually thank me a lot?
Gna. Exceeding thanks.
Gna. Thanks a lot.
Thra. Was she delighted, say you?
Thra. Was she thrilled, you think?
Gna. Not so much, indeed, at the present itself, as because it was given by you; really, in right earnest, she does exult at that.
Gonna. Not so much, really, in the present moment, but because you gave it; truly, she is genuinely thrilled about that.
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Enter Parmeno unseen, from Laches’ house.
Enter Parmeno quietly, from Laches’ house.
Par. (apart.) I’ve come here to be on the look-out, that when there is an opportunity I may take the presents. But see, here’s the Captain.
Par. (apart.) I’ve come here to keep an eye out so that when there’s an opportunity, I can grab the gifts. But look, here comes the Captain.
Thra. Undoubtedly it is the case with me, that every thing I do is a cause for thankfulness.
Thra. It's definitely true for me that everything I do is a reason to be thankful.
Gna. Upon my faith, I’ve observed it.
Gna. I swear, I’ve seen it.
Thra. The most mighty King,62 even, always used to give me especial thanks for whatever I did; but not so to others.
Thra. The mighty King, even, always made a point to thank me specifically for whatever I did; but he didn't do the same for others.
Gna. He who has the wit that you have, often by his words appropriates to himself the glory that has been achieved by the labor of others.
Gnah. Someone with your cleverness often takes credit for the achievements made by others through their words.
Thra. You’ve just hit it.63
Thra. You’ve just nailed it.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Thra. Just so.
Thra. Exactly.
Gna. To enjoy your society.
Gna. To enjoy your company.
Thra. True; he intrusted to me all his army, all his state secrets.
Thra. That’s true; he entrusted to me all his army, all his state secrets.
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Gna. Astonishing!
Gna. Amazing!
Thra. Then if, on any occasion, a surfeit of society, or a dislike of business, came upon him, when he was desirous to take some recreation; just as though—you understand?65
Thra. So, if he ever felt overwhelmed by people or wanted to avoid work and was looking to relax; just like— you get it? 65
Gna. I know; just as though on occasion he would rid his mind of those anxieties.
Gonna. I know; it’s like sometimes he clears his mind of those worries.
Thra. You have it. Then he used to take me aside as his only boon companion.
Thra. You have it. Then he would take me aside as his closest friend.
Gna. Whew! You are telling of a King of refined taste.
Gonna. Wow! You're talking about a King with great taste.
Thra. Aye, he is a person of that sort; a man of but very few acquaintanceships.
Thra. Yeah, he’s that kind of guy; a man with very few friends.
Gna. (aside.) Indeed, of none,66 I fancy, if he’s on intimate terms with you.
Gonna. (aside.) Really, of no one, 66 I think, if he’s close with you.
Thra. All the people envied me, and attacked me privately. I don’t care one straw. They envied me dreadfully; but one in particular, whom the King had appointed over the Indian elephants.67 Once, when he became particularly troublesome, “Prithee, Strato,” said I, “are you so fierce because you hold command over the wild beasts?”
Thra. Everyone envied me and went after me behind my back. I don't care at all. They were really jealous; but one person in particular, whom the King had put in charge of the Indian elephants. 67 Once, when he was especially annoying, I said, “Come on, Strato, are you being so hostile because you have power over the wild animals?”
Gna. Cleverly said, upon my faith, and shrewdly. Astounding! You did give the fellow a home thrust. What said he?
Gna. Well said, honestly, and smartly. Amazing! You really nailed him. What did he say?
Thra. Dumfounded, instantaneously.
Thra. Shocked, instantly.
Gna. How could he be otherwise?
Gna. How could he be?
Par. (apart.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! a lost and miserable fellow the one, and the other a scoundrel.
Par. (apart.) Oh my Gods, based on our faith in you! One is a hopeless and miserable person, and the other is a wicked scoundrel.
Thra. Well then, about that matter, Gnatho, the way in which I touched up the Rhodian at a banquet—did I never tell you?
Thra. So, about that thing, Gnatho, the way I handled the Rhodian at a party—did I ever mention that to you?
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Gna. Never; but pray, do tell me. (Aside.) I’ve heard it more than a thousand times already.
Gonna. Never; but please, do tell me. (Aside.) I've heard it over a thousand times already.
Thra. There was in my company at a banquet, this young man of Rhodes, whom I’m speaking of. By chance I had a mistress there; he began to toy with her, and to annoy me. “What are you doing, sir impudence?” said I to the fellow; “a hare yourself, and looking out for game?”68
Thra. At a banquet, there was this young guy from Rhodes I’m talking about. By coincidence, I had a date there; he started flirting with her and bothering me. “What are you doing, you shameless guy?” I said to him; “you’re a coward yourself, and looking for trouble?”68
Gna. (pretending to laugh very heartily.) Ha, ha, ha!
Gonna. (acting like she's laughing really hard.) Ha, ha, ha!
Thra. What’s the matter?
Thra. What's wrong?
Gna. How apt, how smart, how clever; nothing could be more excellent. Prithee, was this a saying of yours? I fancied it was an old one.
Gnah. How fitting, how sharp, how clever; nothing could be better. Please, is this something you said? I thought it was an old saying.
Thra. Did you ever hear it before?
Thra. Have you ever heard it before?
Gna. Many a time; and it is mentioned among the first-rate ones.
Gnah. Many times; and it's noted among the best.
Thra. It’s my own.
Thra. It's mine.
Gna. I’m sorry though that it was said to a thoughtless young man, and one of respectability.
Gonna. I’m sorry though that it was said to a careless young man, and one of good standing.
Par. (apart.) May the Gods confound you!
Par. (apart.) May the gods throw you off!
Gna. Pray, what did he do?
Gna. Pray, what did he do?
Thra. Quite disconcerted. All who were present were dying with laughter; in short, they were all quite afraid of me.
Thra. Very unsettled. Everyone there was laughing hysterically; in short, they were all pretty scared of me.
Gna. Not without reason.
Gna. For good reason.
Thra. But hark you, had I best clear myself of this to Thais, as to her suspicion that I’m fond of this girl?
Thra. But listen, should I clear things up with Thais about her suspicion that I like this girl?
Gna. By no means: on the contrary, rather increase her jealousy.
Gonna. Not at all: actually, it will make her jealousy worse.
Thra. Why so?
Thra. Why's that?
Gna. Do you ask me? Don’t you see, if on any occasion she makes mention of Phædria or commends him, to provoke you——
Gnar. Are you asking me? Don’t you realize that whenever she brings up Phædria or praises him, it's to get a reaction out of you—
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Thra. I understand.
Got it.
Gna. That such may not be the case, this method is the only remedy. When she speaks of Phædria, do you instantly mention Pamphila. If at any time she says, “Let’s invite Phædria to make one,” do you say, “Let’s ask Pamphila to sing.” If she praises his good looks, do you, on the other hand, praise hers. In short, do you return like for like, which will mortify her.
Gnar. To ensure that doesn’t happen, this method is the only solution. Whenever she talks about Phædria, you should immediately bring up Pamphila. If she ever says, “Let’s invite Phædria to join,” you should suggest, “Let’s ask Pamphila to sing.” If she compliments his looks, you need to return the favor by complimenting hers. In short, respond with the same praise, which will embarrass her.
Thra. If, indeed, she loved me,69 this might be of some use, Gnatho.
Thra. If she really loved me, 69 this could be helpful, Gnatho.
Gna. Since she is impatient for and loves that which you give her, she already loves you; as it is, then, it is an easy matter for her to feel vexed. She will be always afraid lest the presents which she herself is now getting, you may on some occasion be taking elsewhere.
Gonna. Since she is eager for and loves what you give her, she already loves you; because of this, it’s easy for her to feel upset. She will always worry that the gifts she’s receiving now might be given to someone else at some point.
Thra. Well said; that never came into my mind.
Thra. Well said; I never thought of that.
Gna. Nonsense. You never thought about it; else how much more readily would you yourself have hit upon it, Thraso!
Gnar. That's nonsense. You never thought about it; otherwise, you would have figured it out much more easily, Thraso!
Scene II.
Enter Thais from her house, attended by Pythias.
Enter Thais from her house, with Pythias accompanying her.
Thais, (as she comes out.) I thought I just now heard the Captain’s voice. And look, here he is. Welcome, my dear Thraso.
Thai People, (as she comes out.) I just thought I heard the Captain’s voice. And look, here he is. Welcome, my dear Thraso.
Thra. O my Thais, my sweet one, how are you? How much do you love me in return for that music girl?
Thra. Oh my Thais, my sweet one, how are you? How much do you love me back for that girl who sings?
Par. (apart.) How polite! What a beginning he has made on meeting her!
Par. (apart.) How polite! What a great start he’s made by meeting her!
Thais. Very much, as you deserve.
Thais. Absolutely, just like you deserve.
Gna. Let’s go to dinner then. (To Thraso.) What do you stand here for?
Gonna. Let’s go to dinner then. (To Thraso.) What are you standing here for?
Par. (apart.) Then there’s the other one: you would declare that he was born for his belly’s sake.
Par. (apart.) Then there’s the other one: you would say he was born just to satisfy his appetite.
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Thra. When you please; I sha’n’t delay.
Thra. Whenever you're ready; I won't hold you up.
Par. (apart.) I’ll accost them, and pretend as though I had just come out. (He comes forward.) Are you going any where, Thais?
Par. (apart.) I’ll approach them and act like I just stepped out. (He comes forward.) Are you going anywhere, Thais?
Thais. Ha! Parmeno; well done; just going out for the day.
Thais. Ha! Parmeno; nice job; just heading out for the day.
Par. Where?
Where?
Thais, (aside, pointing at Thraso.) Why! don’t you see him?
Thais, (aside, pointing at Thraso.) Why! Don’t you see him?
Par. (aside.) I see him, and I’m sorry for it. (Aloud.) Phædria’s presents are ready for you when you please.
Par. (aside.) I see him, and I regret that. (Aloud.) Phædria's gifts are ready for you whenever you're ready.
Thra. (impatiently.) Why are we to stand here? Why don’t we be off?
Thra. (impatiently.) Why are we standing here? Why don’t we just go?
Par. (to Thraso.) Troth now, pray, do let us, with your leave, present to her the things we intend, and accost and speak to her.
Par. (to Thraso.) Honestly now, please let us, if you don't mind, show her the things we want, and approach and talk to her.
Thra. (ironically.) Very fine presents, I suppose, or at least equal to mine.
Thra. (ironically.) Very nice gifts, I guess, or at least as good as mine.
Par. The fact will prove itself. (Goes to the door of Laches’ house and calls.) Ho there! bid those people come out of doors at once, as I ordered.
Par. The truth will come out. (Goes to the door of Laches’ house and calls.) Hey! Tell those people to come outside right away, like I asked.
Enter from the house a Black Girl.
Enter from the house a Black Girl.
Par. Do you step forward this way, (To Thais.) She comes all the way from Æthiopia.
Par. Are you coming this way, (To Thai people.) She traveled all the way from Ethiopia.
Thra. (contemptuously.) Here are some three minæ in value.
Thra. (with disdain.) Here are about three minæ worth.
Gna. Hardly so much.
Gna. Not really.
Par. Where are you, Dorus? Step this way.
Par. Where are you, Dorus? Come over here.
Enter Chærea from the house, dressed like the Eunuch.
Enter Chærea from the house, dressed like the Castrated man.
Par. There’s a Eunuch for you—of what a genteel appearance! of what a prime age!
Par. Look at that Eunuch—what a classy look! What a great age!
Thais. God bless me, he’s handsome.
Thai people. Oh my God, he’s so good-looking.
Par. What say you, Gnatho? Do you see any thing to find fault with? And what say you, Thraso? (Aside.) They hold their tongues; they praise him sufficiently thereby. (To Thais.) Make trial of him in literature, try him in exercises,70 95 and in music; I’ll warrant him well skilled in what it becomes a gentleman to know.
Par. What do you think, Gnatho? Do you have any complaints? And what about you, Thraso? (Aside.) They’re keeping quiet; their silence is praise enough. (To Thais.) Test him in literature, put him through some exercises, 70 95 and in music; I bet he’s well trained in what a gentleman should know.
Thra. That Eunuch, if occasion served,71 even in my sober senses, I—
Thra. That Eunuch, if the situation called for it, even when I'm thinking clearly, I—
Par. And he who has sent these things makes no request that you will live for him alone, and that for his own sake others may be excluded; he neither tells of battles nor shows his scars, nor does he restrict you as (looking at Thraso) a certain person does; but when it is not inconvenient, whenever you think fit, whenever you have the time, he is satisfied to be admitted.
Par. And the one who has sent these things doesn't expect you to live only for him, nor does he want you to exclude others for his sake. He doesn’t boast about battles or show off his scars, nor does he impose restrictions on you as (looking at Thraso) a certain person does; instead, whenever it’s convenient for you, whenever you think it’s right, and whenever you have the time, he is content just to be welcomed in.
Thra. (to Gnatho, contemptuously.) It appears that this is the servant of some beggarly, wretched master.
Thra. (to Gnatho, scornfully.) Looks like you're the servant of some poor, miserable master.
Gna. Why, faith, no person, I’m quite sure of that, could possibly put up with him, who had the means to get another.
Gonna. Honestly, I’m sure no one could put up with him if they had the option to get someone else.
Par. You hold your tongue—a fellow whom I consider beneath all men of the very lowest grade: for when you can bring yourself to flatter that fellow (pointing at Thraso), I do believe you could pick your victuals out of the very flames.72
Par. You need to be quiet—a person I see as lower than the lowest of the low: because if you can bend down to flatter that guy (pointing at Thraso), I honestly think you could eat your meals out of the very flames.72
Thra. Are we to go now?
Thra. Are we heading out now?
Thais. I’ll take these in-doors first (pointing to Chærea and the Æthiopian), and at the same time I’ll order what I wish; after that I’ll return immediately.
Thais. I'll bring these inside first (pointing to Chærea and the Ethiopian), and while I'm at it, I'll request what I want; then I'll come back right away.
Goes into the house with Pythias, Chærea, and the Slave.
Goes into the house with Pythias, Chærea, and the Slave.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) I shall be off. Do you wait for her.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) I'm leaving. You wait for her.
Par. It is not a proper thing for a general to be walking in the street with a mistress.
Par. It’s not appropriate for a general to be out walking in the street with a mistress.
Thra. Why should I use many words with you? You are the very ape of your master.
Thra. Why do I need to say so much to you? You're just a copy of your master.
Exit Parmeno.
Exit Parmeno.
Gna. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha!
Gna. (laughing.) Haha!
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Thra. What are you laughing at?
Thra. What are you laughing about?
Gna. At what you were mentioning just now; that saying, too, about the Rhodian, recurred to my mind. But Thais is coming out.
Gonna. About what you just said; that saying about the Rhodian popped into my head again. But Thais is coming out.
Thra. You go before; take care that every thing is ready at home.
Thra. You go ahead; make sure everything is set at home.
Gna. Very well.
Gna. Alright.
Exit.
Log out.
Re-enter Thais, with Pythias and Female Attendants.
Re-enter Thais, with Pythias and Female Attendants.
Thais. Take care, Pythias, and be sure that if Chremes should happen to come,73 to beg him to wait; if that is not convenient, then to come again; if he can not do that, bring him to me.
Thai people. Take care, Pythias, and make sure that if Chremes happens to arrive,73 ask him to wait; if that's not possible, then tell him to come back later; if he can't do that, bring him to me.
Pyth. I’ll do so.
Pyth. I will do that.
Thais. Well, what else was I intending to say? O, do you take particular care of that young woman; be sure that you keep at home.
Thai people. So, what else was I going to say? Oh, please take good care of that young woman; make sure she stays at home.
Thra. Let us begone.
Thra. Let's get out of here.
Thais, (to her attendants.) You follow me.
Thai people, (to her attendants.) You all come with me.
Exeunt Thais and Thraso, followed by the Attendants. Pythias goes into the house.
Exeunt Thais and Thraso, followed by the Attendants. Pythias enters the house.
Scene III.
Enter Chremes.
Enter Chremes.
Chrem. (to himself.) Why, really, the more and more I think of it, I shouldn’t be surprised if this Thais should be doing me some great mischief; so cunningly do I perceive myself beset by her. Even on the occasion when she first requested me to be fetched to her (any one might ask me, “What business had you with her?” Really I don’t know.) When I came, she found an excuse for me to remain there; she said that she had been offering a sacrifice,74 and that she was desirous to speak upon some important business with me. Even then I had a suspicion 97 that all these things were being done for her artful purposes. She takes her place beside me; pays every attention to me; seeks an opportunity of conversation. When the conversation flagged, she turned off to this point—how long since my father and mother died? I said that it was now a long time ago. Whether I had any country-house at Sunium, and how far from the sea? I suppose that this has taken her fancy, and she expects to get it away from me. Then at last, whether any little sister of mine had been lost from there; whether any person was with her; what she had about her when she was lost; whether any one could recognize her. Why should she make these inquiries? Unless, perhaps, she pretends—so great is her assurance—that she herself is the same person that was formerly lost when a little girl. But if she is alive, she is sixteen years old, not older; whereas Thais is somewhat older than I am. She has sent to press me earnestly to come. Either let her speak out what she wants, or not be troublesome; I assuredly shall not come a third time (knocking at the door of Thais). Ho! there, ho! there! Is any one here? It’s I, Chremes.
Chrem. (to himself.) You know, the more I think about it, I really shouldn’t be surprised if this Thais is plotting something against me; I can see how cleverly she’s trying to trap me. Even when she first asked to have me brought to her (anyone could ask me, “What did you want with her?” Honestly, I have no idea.) When I arrived, she found a reason for me to stay; she claimed she had been making a sacrifice, A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0 and wanted to discuss something important with me. Even then I suspected she had some hidden agenda. She sits next to me, pays me a lot of attention, and looks for a chance to chat. When the conversation slowed down, she suddenly asked—how long ago did my parents die? I said it was a long time ago. Did I have a vacation home at Sunium, and how far was it from the sea? I guess this caught her interest, and she’s hoping to get it from me. Then she finally asked if I had a little sister who had gone missing from there; was anyone with her; what she was wearing when she disappeared; could anyone recognize her? Why would she ask about this? Unless she’s bold enough to claim she’s the same girl who went missing years ago. But if she's alive, she’s sixteen now, not older; while Thais is a bit older than me. She’s been pushing me hard to come over. Either she should say what she wants or stop bothering me; I definitely won’t come a third time. (knocking at the door of Thais) Hey! Is anyone here? It’s me, Chremes.
Scene IV.
Enter Pythias from the house.
Enter Pythias from the house.
Pyth. O most charming, dear creature!
Pyth. O most charming, dear friend!
Chrem. (apart.) I said there was a design upon me.
Chrem. (aside.) I mentioned that there was a plot against me.
Pyth. Thais entreated you most earnestly to come again to-morrow.
Python. Thais urgently asked you to come back tomorrow.
Chrem. I’m going into the country.
Chrem. I'm heading to the countryside.
Pyth. Do, there’s a dear sir.
Pyth. Yes, there's a dear sir.
Chrem. I can not, I tell you.
Chrem. I really can't, I'm telling you.
Pyth. Then stay here at our house till she comes back.
Pyth. Then stay here at our place until she gets back.
Chrem. Nothing less likely.
Chrem. Nothing more unlikely.
Pyth. Why, my dear Chremes? (Taking hold of him.)
Pythona. Why, my dear Chremes? (Holding onto him.)
Chrem. (shaking her off.) Away to perdition with you!
Chrem. (shaking her off.) Go away to hell!
Pyth. If you are so determined about it, pray do step over to the place where she is.
Pytho. If you're so set on this, please go over to where she is.
Chrem. I’ll go there.
Chrem. I’ll go over there.
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Pyth. (calling at the door.) Here, Dorias (Dorias enters), show this person directly to the Captain’s.
Python. (calling at the door.) Here, Dorias (Dorias enters), take this person straight to the Captain’s.
Exit Chremes with Dorias, Pythias goes into the house.
Exit Chremes with Dorias, Pythias enters the house.
Scene V.
Enter Antipho.
Enter Antipho.
Ant. (to himself.) Yesterday some young fellows of us agreed together at the Piræus that we were to go shares today in a club-entertainment. We gave Chærea charge of this matter; our rings were given75 as pledges; the place and time arranged. The time has now gone by; at the place appointed there was nothing ready. The fellow himself is nowhere to be met with; I neither know what to say nor what to suppose. Now the rest have commissioned me with this business, to look for him. I’ll go see, therefore, if he’s at home. But who’s this, I wonder, coming out of Thais’s? Is it he, or is it not? ’Tis the very man! What, sort of being is this? What kind of garb is this? What mischief is going on now? I can not sufficiently wonder or conjecture. But, whatever it is, I should like first at a distance to try and find out.
Ant. (to himself.) Yesterday, some of us agreed at the Piraeus that we would share a club event today. We put Chærea in charge of it; we gave our rings as pledges; the place and time were set. The time has now passed; nothing was ready at the appointed place. The guy himself is nowhere to be found; I don’t know what to say or think. Now the others have asked me to find him. I’ll go check if he’s at home. But who’s this coming out of Thais’s? Is that him, or not? It’s definitely him! What kind of person is this? What’s with this outfit? What kind of trouble is brewing? I can’t help but wonder. But whatever it is, I’d like to see if I can figure it out from a distance first.
He stands apart.
He stands out.
Scene VI.
Enter Chærea from the house of Thais, in the Eunuch’s dress.
Enter Chærea from the house of Thais, in the Eunuch's outfit.
Chæ. (looking around, then aloud to himself.) Is there anybody here? There’s no one. Is there any one following me from there? There’s not a person. Now am I not at liberty to give vent to these raptures? O supreme Jupiter! 99 now assuredly is the time for me to meet my death,76 when I can so well endure it; lest my life should sully this ecstasy with some disaster. But is there now no inquisitive person to be intruding upon me, to be following me wherever I go, to be deafening me, worrying me to death, with asking questions; why thus transported, or why so overjoyed, whither I’m going, whence I’m come, where I got this garb, what is my object, whether I’m in my senses or whether downright mad?
Chā. (looking around, then aloud to himself.) Is anyone here? There's no one. Is someone following me from over there? There's not a soul. Am I not free to express these feelings? Oh, supreme Jupiter! 99 Now is definitely the time for me to meet my end, 76 when I can bear it so well; lest my life should ruin this moment of joy with some disaster. But isn't there anyone curious enough to intrude on me, to follow me wherever I go, to drive me crazy with questions; why am I so excited, or why am I so happy, where I'm headed, where I've come from, where I got this outfit, what my purpose is, whether I’m sane or completely out of my mind?
Ant. (apart.) I’ll accost him, and I’ll do him the favor which I see he’s wishing for. (Accosting him.) Chærea, why are you thus transported? What’s the object of this garb? Why is it that you’re so overjoyed? What is the meaning of this? Are you quite right in your senses? Why do you stare at me? What have you to say?
Ant. (aside.) I’ll approach him, and I’ll do him the favor I see he wants. (Approaching him.) Chærea, why are you acting so strangely? What’s with this outfit? Why are you so happy? What’s going on? Are you really okay? Why are you looking at me like that? What do you want to say?
Chæ. O joyous day! O welcome, my friend! There’s not one in all the world whom I would rather wish to see at this moment than yourself.
Chill. Oh what a joyful day! Oh welcome, my friend! There's no one else in the world I'd rather see right now than you.
Ant. Pray, do tell me what all this means.
Ant. Please, tell me what all this means.
Chæ. Nay rather, i’faith, I beg of you to listen to me. Do you know the mistress whom my brother is so fond of?
Chae. No, seriously, I really need you to hear me out. Do you know the woman my brother is so crazy about?
Ant. I know her; I suppose you mean Thais?
Ant. I know her; I guess you're talking about Thais?
Chæ. The very same.
Chæ. The exact same.
Ant. So far I recollect.
Ant. So far I remember.
Chæ. To-day a certain damsel was presented to her. Why now should I extol or commend her beauty to you, Antipho, since you yourself know how nice a judge of beauty I am? I have been smitten by her.
Chae. Today a certain young woman was introduced to her. Why should I praise her beauty to you, Antipho, when you already know how good I am at judging beauty? I've fallen for her.
Ant. Do you say so?
Ant. Is that what you say?
Chæ. If you saw her, I am sure you would say she’s exquisite. What need of many words? I fell in love with her. By good luck there was at our house a certain Eunuch, whom my brother had purchased for Thais, and he had not as yet been sent to her. On this occasion, Parmeno, our servant, made a suggestion to me, which I adopted.
Chae. If you saw her, I’m sure you’d say she’s stunning. What more is there to say? I fell for her. Fortunately, we had a eunuch in our house that my brother had bought for Thais, and he hadn’t been sent to her yet. On this occasion, our servant Parmeno offered me a suggestion, which I decided to go with.
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Ant. What was it?
What was that?
Chæ. Be quiet, and you shall hear the sooner; to change clothes with him, and order myself to be taken there in his stead.
Chae. Be quiet, and you'll hear quicker; I'll switch clothes with him and arrange for myself to be taken there in his place.
Ant. What, instead of the Eunuch?
What, instead of the Eunuch?
Chæ. The fact.
Chæ. The truth.
Ant. To receive what advantage, pray, from this plan?
Ant. What do you expect to gain from this plan?
Chæ. Do you ask? That I might see, hear, and be in company with her whom I loved, Antipho. Is that a slight motive, or a poor reason? I was presented to the woman. She, as soon as she received me, joyfully took me home to her house and intrusted the damsel—
Chill. Are you asking? I wanted to see, hear, and be with the woman I loved, Antipho. Is that not a worthy reason? I was introduced to the woman. As soon as she saw me, she happily took me home and entrusted the girl—
Ant. To whom? To you?
To whom? To you?
Chæ. To me.
Chæ. Come here.
Ant. (ironically.) In perfect safety, at all events.
Ant. (ironically.) Totally safe, definitely.
Chæ. She gave orders that we male was to come near her, and commanded me not to stir away from her; that I was to remain alone with her in the inner apartments.77 Looking bashfully on the ground, I nodded assent.
Chae. She instructed that we men could come close to her and told me not to move away; I was to stay alone with her in the private rooms.77 Looking shyly at the ground, I nodded in agreement.
Ant. (ironically.) Poor fellow!
Ant. (ironically.) Poor guy!
Chæ. (continuing.) “I am going out,” said she, “to dinner.” She took her maids with her; a few novices of girls78 remained, to be about her. These immediately made preparations for her to bathe. I urged them to make haste. While preparations were being made, the damsel sat in a room looking up at a certain painting,79 in which was represented how Jove80 is said once to have sent a golden shower into the bosom of Danaë. I myself began to look at it as well, and 101 as he had in former times played the like game, I felt extremely delighted that a God should change himself into money, and slily come through the tiles of another person’s house, to deceive the fair one by means of a shower. But what God was this? He who shakes the most lofty temples of heaven with his thunders. Was I, a poor creature of a mortal,81 not to do the same? Certainly, I was to do it, and without hesitation. While I was thinking over these matters with myself, the damsel meantime was fetched away to bathe; she went, bathed, and came back; after which they laid her on a couch. I stood waiting to see if they gave me any orders. One came up, “Here, Dorus,” said she, “take this fan,82 and let her have a little air in this fashion, while we are bathing; when we have bathed, if you like, you may bathe too.” With a demure air I took it.
Chay. (continuing.) “I’m going out,” she said, “to dinner.” She took her maids with her; a few novice girls78 stayed behind to be around her. They quickly started getting things ready for her to bathe. I urged them to hurry. While they were preparing, the girl sat in a room, looking at a certain painting,79 which depicted how Jove80 supposedly sent a golden shower into the lap of Danaë. I also began to look at it, and just like he had done in the past, I felt really pleased that a God could turn into money and sneak through someone’s roof to trick the maiden with a rain of gold. But which God was this? The one who shakes the highest temples of heaven with his thunder. Was I, a mere mortal,81 not meant to do the same? Of course, I was, and without any doubt. While I was pondering these thoughts, the girl was called to bathe; she went, bathed, and returned; then they laid her on a couch. I stood by, waiting to see if they needed anything from me. One of them approached and said, “Here, Dorus,” she said, “take this fan,82 and give her a little air like this while we’re bathing; after we’ve finished, if you want, you can bathe too.” With a modest demeanor, I took it.
Ant. Really, I should very much have liked to see that impudent face of yours just then, and what figure a great donkey like you made, holding a fan!
Ant. Honestly, I would have loved to see that cheeky face of yours just then, and how ridiculous you looked, holding a fan like a big fool!
Chæ. (continuing.) Hardly had she said this, when all, in a moment, betook themselves off: away they went to bathe, and chattered aloud;83 just as the way is when masters are absent. Meanwhile, sleep overtook the damsel; I slily looked askance84 102 through the fan;85 this way (showing how): at the same time I looked round in all directions, to see whether all was quite safe. I saw that it was. I bolted the door.
Chae. (continuing.) Hardly had she said this when, all of a sudden, everyone took off: they went to bathe and chatted loudly, just like it is when the bosses are away. In the meantime, the girl dozed off; I slyly glanced sideways through the fan;84 this way (showing how): at the same time, I looked around to make sure everything was completely safe. I saw that it was. I locked the door.
Ant. What then?
Ant. So what?
Chæ. Eh? What then, you simpleton?
Chæ. Huh? What then, you fool?
Ant. I own I am.
I admit I am.
Chæ. Was I to let slip the opportunity offered me, so excellent, so short-lived,86 so longed for, so unexpected. In that case, i’faith, I really should have been the person I was pretending to be.
Chae. Should I let this amazing, fleeting opportunity pass me by, one I've wanted for so long and didn’t see coming? If that's the choice I make, then honestly, I would truly be the person I was pretending to be.
Ant. Troth, you certainly are in the right; but, meantime, what has been arranged about the club-entertainment?
Ant. You're absolutely right; but in the meantime, what has been planned for the club event?
Chæ. All’s ready.
Chæ. Everything's ready.
Ant. You are a clever band; but where? At your house?
Ant. You guys are pretty smart; but where? At your place?
Chæ. No, at Discus’s, our freedman.
Chæ. No, at Discus’s, our slave.
Ant. That’s a long way off.
Ant. That’s pretty far away.
Chæ. Then let’s make so much the greater haste.
Chæ. Then let's rush even more.
Ant. Change your dress.
Ant. Change your outfit.
Chæ. Where am I to change it? I’m at a loss; for at present I’m an exile from home; I’m afraid of my brother, lest he should be in-doors: and then again of my father, lest he should have returned from the country by this.
Chae. Where am I supposed to change it? I don’t know what to do; right now I’m away from home; I’m worried about my brother, in case he’s inside: and then there’s my father, in case he’s come back from the countryside by now.
Ant. Let’s go to my house; there is the nearest place for you to change.
Ant. Let’s go to my place; it’s the closest spot for you to change.
Chæ. You say right. Let’s be off; besides, I want to take counsel with you about this girl, by what means I may be able to secure the future possession of her.
Ché. You're right. Let's go; also, I want to discuss with you how I can make sure to win her over in the future.
Ant. Very well.
Ant. Alright.
Exeunt.
Exit.
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ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Enter Dorias, with a casket in her hand.
Enter Dorias, holding a box in her hand.
Dorias (to herself.) So may the Gods bless me, but from what I have seen, I’m terribly afraid that this mad fellow will be guilty of some disturbance to-day or of some violence to Thais. For when this young man, the brother of the damsel, arrived, she begged the Captain to order him to be admitted; he immediately began to get into a passion, and yet didn’t dare refuse; Thais still insisted that he would invite the man in. This she did for the sake of detaining him; because there was no opportunity just then of telling him what she wanted to disclose about her sister. He was invited in, and took his seat. Then she entered into discourse with him. But the Captain, fancying it was a rival brought before his very eyes, wanted in his turn to mortify her: “Hark you, boy,” said he, “go fetch Pamphila, that she may amuse us here.” She exclaimed, “At a banquet! Certainly not.” The Captain still persisted to a downright quarrel. Meanwhile my mistress secretly took off her golden jewels,87 and gave them to me to take away: this is a sign, I’m sure, that she’ll betake herself from there as soon as she possibly can.
Dorias (to herself.) May the Gods help me, but from what I've seen, I'm really worried that this crazy guy is going to cause some trouble today or hurt Thais. When this young man, the damsel's brother, arrived, she asked the Captain to let him in; he immediately started getting angry but didn't dare say no. Thais insisted that he should invite the man in. She did this to keep him there because there was no chance right then to tell him what she wanted to reveal about her sister. He was invited in and sat down. Then she started talking with him. But the Captain, thinking it was a rival right in front of him, wanted to embarrass her: “Hey, kid,” he said, “go get Pamphila so she can entertain us here.” She replied, “At a party? Absolutely not.” The Captain continued to push for a full-blown argument. In the meantime, my mistress secretly took off her golden jewels,87 and gave them to me to take away: this is a sign, I'm sure, that she’ll leave as soon as she can.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
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Scene II.
Enter Phædria.
Enter Phædria.
Phæd. (to himself.) While I was going88 into the country, I began on the road, as it mostly happens when there is any anxiety on the mind, to reflect with myself upon one thing after another, and upon every thing in the worst light. What need of words? While I was musing thus, inadvertently I passed my country-house. I had already got some distance from it, when I perceived this; I returned again, really feeling quite uneasy; when I came to the very turning that leads to the house, I came to a stop, and began to reason with myself; “What! must I stay here alone for two days without her? Well, and what then? It’s nothing at all. What? Nothing at all? Well now, if I haven’t the privilege of touching her, am I not even to have that of seeing her? If I may not do the one, at least I may the other. Surely to love at a distance89 even, is better than nothing at all.” I purposely passed the house. But how’s this, that Pythias is suddenly hurrying out in such a fright?
PhD. (to himself.) As I was heading into the countryside, I found myself reflecting on one thing after another, which often happens when I'm anxious, and I saw everything in a negative light. What’s the point of words? While I was lost in thought, I accidentally passed my country house. I had already walked quite a distance when I noticed this; I felt uneasy and turned back. When I reached the turnoff to the house, I stopped and began to argue with myself: “What! Do I really have to stay here alone for two days without her? So what if I do? It’s not a big deal. Really, it’s nothing at all? But if I can’t touch her, can’t I at least see her? If I can’t do one, I can at least do the other. Surely loving her from a distance89 even is better than having nothing at all.” I intentionally walked past the house. But wait, why is Pythias suddenly rushing out in such a panic?
Stands apart.
Stands out.
Scene III.
Enter Pythias and Dorias in haste from the house of Thais.
Enter Pythias and Dorias quickly from Thais's house.
Pyth. (aloud.) Where, wretch that I am, shall I find this wicked and impious fellow? Or where look for him? That 105 he should dare to commit so audacious a crime as this! I’m ruined outright!
Python. (aloud.) Where, as miserable as I am, can I find this terrible and immoral guy? Or where should I search for him? How could he be bold enough to commit such a shocking crime! I’m completely finished!
Phæd. (apart.) I dread what this may be.
Phaedrus. (aside.) I'm afraid of what this might be.
Pyth. Besides, too, the villain, after he had abused the girl, rent all the poor thing’s clothes, and tore her hair as well.
Python. Besides, the villain, after he had attacked the girl, destroyed all her clothes and pulled her hair too.
Phæd. (apart, in surprise.) Ha!
Phæd. (aside, in surprise.) Ha!
Pyth. If he were just now in my reach, how eagerly would I fly at that villain’s eyes with my nails!
Pythagorean. If he were right in front of me, I would eagerly scratch that villain's eyes out!
Phæd. (apart.) Really I can’t imagine what disturbance has happened to us at home in my absence. I’ll accost them. (Going up to them.) What’s the matter? Why in such haste? Or whom are you looking for, Pythias?
Phaedrus. (apart.) I honestly can’t imagine what chaos has gone down at home while I’ve been away. I’ll go talk to them. (Going up to them.) What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush? Or who are you looking for, Pythias?
Pyth. Why, Phædria, whom should I be looking for? Away with you, as you deserve, with such fine presents of yours.
Pyth. Why, Phædria, who am I supposed to be looking for? Go away, just like you should, with your fancy gifts.
Phæd. What is the matter?
Phæd. What's the problem?
Pyth. What, do you ask? The Eunuch you gave us, what confusion he has caused. He has ravished the girl whom the Captain made present of to my mistress.
Python. What are you asking? The Eunuch you gave us has caused so much trouble. He has taken the girl that the Captain gifted to my mistress.
Phæd. What is it you say?
Phæd. What did you say?
Pyth. I’m ruined outright!
I’m totally ruined!
Phæd. You are drunk.
Phæd. You're drunk.
Pyth. I wish that they were so, who wish ill to me.
Python. I wish it were true for those who want bad things to happen to me.
Dorias. Oh, prithee, my dear Pythias, what a monstrous thing this is!
Dorias. Oh, please, my dear Pythias, what a terrible thing this is!
Phæd. You are out of your senses. How could a Eunuch possibly do this?
Phaedrus. You must be crazy. How could a eunuch possibly do this?
Pyth. I know nothing about him: as to what he has done, the thing speaks for itself. The girl is in tears; and when you ask her what’s the matter, she does not dare tell. But he, a precious fellow, is nowhere to be seen. To my sorrow I suspect too, that when he took himself off he carried something away from the house.
Pyth. I don’t know anything about him. What he's done is obvious. The girl is crying, and when you ask her what's wrong, she won’t say. But he, that wonderful guy, is nowhere to be found. Sadly, I worry that when he left, he took something from the house with him.
Phæd. I can not enough wonder, whither this varlet can possibly have betaken himself to any distance from here; unless perhaps he has returned home to our house.
Phaedrus. I can’t help but wonder where this guy could have gone so far from here; unless maybe he’s gone back to our house.
Pyth. Pray, go and see whether he is there.
Pyth. Please go and check if he's there.
Phæd. I’ll let you know immediately.
Phæd. I’ll let you know right away.
Goes into the house of Laches.
Enters Laches' house.
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Dorias. Ruined outright! Prithee, my dear, I never did so much as hear of a deed so abominable!
Dorias. Completely destroyed! Honestly, my dear, I've never heard of a crime so terrible!
Pyth. Why, faith, I had heard that they were extremely fond of the women, but were incapable; unfortunately what has happened never came into my mind; otherwise I should have shut him up somewhere, and not have intrusted the girl to him.
Pythagorean Honestly, I had heard that they really liked women but couldn't do anything about it; regrettably, what happened didn't cross my mind; otherwise, I would have locked him up somewhere and wouldn't have trusted the girl with him.
Scene IV.
Enter Phædria from the house of Laches, with Dorus in Chærea’s clothes.
Enter Phædria from the house of Laches, with Dorus in Chærea’s clothes.
Phæd. (dragging him out.) Come out, you villain! What, do you lag behind, you runaway? Out with you, you sorry bargain!
Ph.D. (dragging him out.) Come on, you scoundrel! What, are you dragging your feet, you coward? Get out here, you pathetic deal!
Dorus (crying out.) Mercy, I do entreat you!
Dorus (crying out.) Please, I beg you for mercy!
Phæd. Oh, do look at that! How the villain distorts his face. What means your coming back hither? Why this change of dress? What have you to say? If I had delayed a moment, Pythias, I shouldn’t have found him at home: he had just prepared, in this fashion, for flight. (Pointing at his dress.)
Phaedrus. Oh, check that out! Look how the villain twists his face. Why have you come back here? What's with the change of clothes? What do you have to say? If I had waited any longer, Pythias, I wouldn't have found him at home: he had just gotten ready, like this, to run away. (Pointing at his dress.)
Pyth. Have you caught the fellow, pray?
Python. Have you found the guy, please?
Phæd. Caught him, why not?
Phæd. Got him, why not?
Pyth. O well done!
Pyth. Oh, great job!
Dorias. Upon my faith that really is capital!
Dorias. I swear, that’s awesome!
Pyth. Where is he?
Pyth. Where is he at?
Phæd. Do you ask the question? Don’t you see him? (Pointing to the Eunuch.)
Phd. Are you asking the question? Don’t you see him? (Pointing to the Castrated man.)
Pyth. (staring about.) See whom, pray?
Pyth. (looking around.) Who are you talking about?
Phæd. This fellow, to be sure (pointing).
Phæd. This guy, definitely (pointing).
Pyth. What person is this?
Pyth. Who is this?
Phæd. The same that was brought to your house to-day.
Phaedrus. The same one that was brought to your house today.
Pyth. Not one of our people has ever beheld this person with her eyes, Phædria.
Python. None of our people has ever seen this person with her own eyes, Phædria.
Phæd. Not beheld him?
Phæd. Haven't you seen him?
Pyth. Prithee, did you fancy that this was he who was brought to our house?
Pythons. Please, did you think that this was the person who was brought to our house?
Phæd. Why, I had no other.
Phæd. I had no other.
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Pyth. O dear! this one really isn’t to be compared with the other. He was of a handsome and genteel appearance.
Pythia Oh no! This one really can’t compare to the other. He had a good-looking and classy appearance.
Phæd. He seemed so, just then, because he was decked out in party-colored clothes:90 now he appears ugly, for this reason—because he hasn’t got them on.
Phaedrus. He looked so different at that moment, because he was wearing colorful party clothes:90 now he looks unattractive, and it's for this reason—because he’s not wearing them.
Pyth. Prithee, do hold your tongue; as though indeed the difference was so trifling. A young man was brought to our house to-day, whom, really, Phædria, you would have liked to look upon. This is a withered, antiquated, lethargic, old fellow, with a speckled complexion.91
Pyth. Please, keep quiet; as if the difference is that insignificant. A young man came to our house today, and honestly, Phædria, you would have enjoyed seeing him. This guy is a frail, old, sluggish man with a blotchy complexion.91
Phæd. (starting.) Hah! What tale is this? You’ll so be-fool me that I sha’n’t know what I bought. (To Dorus.) How now, sirrah, did I not buy you?
Phaedrus. (startled.) Hah! What story is this? You're going to trick me so much that I won't even know what I bought. (To Dorus.) What’s going on, man, didn't I buy you?
Dorus. You did buy me.
Dorus. You did buy me.
Pyth. Bid him answer me in my turn.
Pyth. Tell him to reply to me next.
Phæd. Question him.
Phæd. Ask him.
Pyth. (to Dorus.) Did you come here to-day to our house? (Dorus shakes his head.) He says, no. But it was the other one that came, about sixteen years of age; whom Parmeno brought with him.
Pytho. (to Doris.) Did you come here today to our house? (Doris shakes his head.) He says, no. But it was the other one who came, about sixteen years old; the one Parmeno brought with him.
Phæd. (to Dorus.) Well now, in the first place tell me this, where did you get that dress that you have on? What, are you silent? Monster of a fellow, are you not going to speak (Shakes him.)
Phaedrus. (to Doris.) So, first off, where did you get that dress you're wearing? What, you're not saying anything? Seriously, come on, are you not going to talk? (Shakes him.)
Dorus. Chærea came.
Dorus. Chærea arrived.
Phæd. What, my brother?
Phæd. What’s up, brother?
Dorus. Yes.
Dorus. Yeah.
Phæd. When?
Phæd. When?
Dorus. To-day.
Dorus. Today.
Phæd. How long since?
Phæd. How long has it been?
Dorus. Just now.
Dorus. Right now.
Phæd. With whom?
Phæd. Who's that with?
Dorus. With Parmeno.
Dorus. With Parmeno.
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Phæd. Did you know him before?
Phæd. Did you know him before?
Dorus. No.
Dorus. Nope.
Phæd. How did you know he was my brother?
Phaedrus. How did you find out he was my brother?
Dorus. Parmeno said he was. He gave me these clothes.
Doris. Parmeno said he is. He gave me these clothes.
Phæd. I’m undone!
Phæd. I’m broken!
Dorus. He himself put on mine; afterward, they both went out together.
Doris. He put on my clothes; afterward, they both left together.
Pyth. Now are you quite satisfied that I am sober, and that we have told you no falsehood? Is it now sufficiently evident that the girl has been ravished?
Pythons. Are you convinced now that I'm sober and that we haven't lied to you? Is it clear now that the girl has been violated?
Phæd. Avaunt, you beast, do you believe what he says?
Phaedrus. Get lost, you animal, do you really believe what he says?
Pyth. What is there to believe? The thing speaks for itself.
Pythagorean. What is there to believe? It explains itself.
Phæd. (apart to Dorus.) Step aside a little this way. Do you hear? (Dorus steps aside.) A little further still. That will do. Now tell me this once more; did Chærea take your clothes off you?
Phaedrus. (apart to Doris.) Step over here a bit. Do you hear me? (Doris steps aside.) A little more. That’s good. Now tell me again; did Chærea take your clothes off?
Dorus. He did.
Dorus did.
Phæd. And did he put them on?
Phæd. Did he wear them?
Dorus. He did.
Dorus. He did.
Phæd. And was he brought here instead of you?
Phaedrus. So, was he brought here instead of you?
Dorus. Yes.
Dorus. Yep.
Phæd. Great Jupiter! O wicked and audacious fellow!
Ph.D. Wow, Jupiter! What a wicked and bold guy!
Pyth. Woe unto me! Now at last will you believe that we have been insulted in a disgraceful manner?
Pythona. Woe is me! Now at last will you believe that we've been treated in a shameful way?
Phæd. It is no wonder that you believe what the fellow says. (Aside.) What I’m to do I know not. (Aside to Dorus.) Hark you, deny it all again. (Aloud.) Can I not this day extract the truth from you? Did you really see my brother Chærea?
Phaedrus. It's no surprise that you trust what he says. (Aside.) I have no idea what to do. (Aside to Doris.) Come on, deny it all again. (Aloud.) Can I not get the truth out of you today? Did you actually see my brother Chærea?
Dorus. No.
Dorus. Nope.
Phæd. He can’t be brought to confess without being punished, I see: follow me this way. At one moment he affirms, at another denies. (Aside.) Ask pardon of me.
PhD. He won't confess without facing some consequences, I get it: come this way with me. One moment he says yes, the next he says no. (Aside.) Please forgive me.
Dorus. Indeed, I do entreat you, Phædria.
Doris. Seriously, I'm asking you, Phædria.
Phæd. (kicking him.) Be off in-doors.
Phæd. (kicking him.) Go inside.
Dorus. Oh! oh!
Dorus. Oh my!
Phæd. (aside.) How in any other fashion to get decently out of this I don’t know; for really it’s all up with me. (Aloud, with pretended indignation.) Will you be trifling with me even here, you knave?
Phaedrus. (aside.) I honestly have no clue how to get out of this gracefully; I'm really in a tough spot. (Aloud, feigning anger.) Are you going to mess with me even here, you rogue?
Follows Dorus into the house.
Follows Dorus inside the house.
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Scene V.
Pythias and Dorias.
Pythias and Dorias.
Pyth. I’m as certain that this is the contrivance of Parmeno as that I’m alive.
Python. I’m as sure that this is Parmeno’s scheme as I am that I’m alive.
Dorias. So it is, no doubt.
Dorias. That's for sure.
Pyth. I’faith, I’ll find out a method to-day to be even with him. But now, what do you think ought to be done, Dorias?
Pyth. Honestly, I’m going to figure out a way today to get back at him. But for now, what do you think should be done, Dorias?
Dorias. Do you mean with regard to this girl?
Dorias. Are you talking about this girl?
Pyth. Yes; whether I ought to mention it or be silent?
Pyth. Yes; should I say something about it or just keep quiet?
Dorias. Upon my word, if you are prudent, you won’t know what you do know, either about the Eunuch or the girl’s misfortune. By this method you’ll both rid yourself of all perplexity, and have done a service to her.92 Say this only, that Dorus has run away.
Dorias. Honestly, if you’re smart about it, you won’t acknowledge what you know about the Eunuch or the girl’s unfortunate situation. By doing this, you'll free yourself from all confusion and help her at the same time.92 Just say this: Dorus has disappeared.
Pyth. I’ll do so.
Pyth. I will do that.
Dorias. But don’t I see Chremes? Thais will be here just now.
Dorias. But don’t I see Chremes? Thais will be here any minute.
Pyth. Why so?
Pyth. Why?
Dorias. Because when I came away from there, a quarrel had just commenced between them.
Dorias. Because when I left there, an argument had just started between them.
Pyth. Take in these golden trinkets; I shall learn from him what’s the matter.
Python. Check out these golden trinkets; I’m going to find out what’s going on with him.
Dorias takes the casket into the house.
Dorias brings the casket inside the house.
Scene VI.
Enter Chremes, somewhat drunk.
Enter Chremes, a bit tipsy.
Chrem. Heyday! upon my faith, I’ve been bamboozled: the wine that I’ve drunk has got the upper hand. But, so long as I was reclining, how extremely sober I did seem to myself to be; when I got up, neither feet nor senses were quite equal to their duty.
Chrem. Wow! I can’t believe it, I’ve been fooled: the wine I drank has taken over. But while I was lounging, I really thought I was so clear-headed; now that I’m up, my feet and senses are definitely not up to the task.
Pyth. Chremes!
Chremes!
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110
Chrem. (turning round.) Who’s that? What, Pythias; dear me, how much more charming you now seem to me than a short time since!
Chrem. (turning around.) Who’s that? Oh, Pythias; wow, you seem so much more charming to me now than you did a little while ago!
Pyth. Troth now, you are much more merry, that’s certain.
Pythagorean Honestly, you seem a lot happier now, that’s for sure.
Chrem. Upon my faith, it is a true saying, that “Venus grows cold without Ceres and Bacchus.” But has Thais got here long before me?
Chrem. I swear it's true when they say, "Venus cools off without Ceres and Bacchus." But did Thais get here way before me?
Pyth. Has she already come away from the Captain’s?
Pyth. Has she already left the Captain's place?
Chrem. A long time ago; an age since. There has been a most violent quarrel between them.
Chrem. A long time ago; ages ago. They had a very intense argument.
Pyth. Did she say nothing about you following her?
Pythons. Did she say anything about you following her?
Chrem. Nothing at all; only, on going away, she gave me a nod.
Chrem. Nothing really; she just nodded at me when she left.
Pyth. Well now, wasn’t that enough?
Pyth. Well, wasn't that enough?
Chrem. Why, I didn’t know that she meant that, until the Captain gave me an explanation, because I was dull of comprehension; for he bundled me out of the house. But look, here she is; I wonder how it was I got here before her.
Chrem. I had no idea that's what she meant until the Captain explained it to me, since I wasn't very quick to understand; he kicked me out of the house. But look, here she is; I wonder how I got here before her.
Scene VII.
Enter Thais.
Enter Thais.
Thais. (to herself.) I really do believe that he’ll be here presently, to force her away from me. Let him come; but if he touches her with a single finger, that instant his eyes shall be torn out. I can put up with his impertinences and his high-sounding words, as long as they remain words: but if they are turned into realities, he shall get a drubbing.
Thais. (to herself.) I truly believe he'll show up soon to take her away from me. Let him come; but if he lays a finger on her, in that moment, I’ll make him regret it. I can handle his insults and grand speeches as long as they stay just talk, but if he tries to make them real, he’ll get a beatdown.
Chrem. Thais, I’ve been here some time.
Chrem. Thais, I’ve been here for a while.
Thais. O my dear Chremes, you are the very person I was wanting. Are you aware that this quarrel took place on your account, and that the whole of this affair, in fact, bore reference to yourself?
Thai people. Oh my dear Chremes, you’re exactly who I was looking for. Do you realize that this argument happened because of you, and that this whole situation is really all about you?
Chrem. To me? How so, pray?
Chrem. To me? How come?
Thais. Because, while I’ve been doing my best to recover and restore your sister to you, this and a great deal more like it I’ve had to put up with.
Thais. Because, while I’ve been doing my best to help your sister recover and return to you, I’ve had to deal with this and a lot more like it.
Chrem. Where is she?
Chrem. Where's she at?
Thais. At home, at my house.
Thais. At home, at my place.
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Chrem. (starting.) Hah!
Chrem. (starting.) Haha!
Thais. What’s the matter? She has been brought up in a manner worthy of yourself and of her.
Thais. What’s wrong? She has been raised in a way that reflects both you and her.
Chrem. What is it you say?
Chrem. What do you mean?
Thais. That which is the fact. Her I present to you, nor do I ask of you any return for her.
Thai people. This is the truth. I present her to you, and I don’t ask anything in return for her.
Chrem. Thanks are both felt and shall be returned in such way, Thais, as you deserve.
Chrem. Thanks are genuinely felt and will be returned in a way that you deserve, Thais.
Thais. But still, take care, Chremes, that you don’t lose her, before you receive her from me; for it is she, whom the Captain is now coming to take away from me by force. Do you go, Pythias, and bring out of the house the casket with the tokens.93
Thais. But be careful, Chremes, that you don’t lose her before you get her from me; because she’s the one the Captain is now trying to take from me by force. Go, Pythias, and bring out the box with the tokens from the house.93
Chrem. (looking down the side Scene.) Don’t you see him, Thais?
Chrem. (looking down the side Scene.) Can’t you see him, Thais?
Pyth. (to Thais.) Where is it put?
Pyth. (to Thais.) Where is it located?
Thais. In the clothes’ chest. Tiresome creature, why do you delay?
Thais. In the clothes’ chest. Annoying creature, why are you taking so long?
Pythias goes into the house.
Pythias enters the house.
Chrem. What a large body of troops the Captain is bringing with him against you. Bless me!
Chrem. Wow, the Captain is bringing a huge army with him to face you. Good grief!
Thais. Prithee, are you frightened, my dear sir?
Thai people. Please, are you scared, my dear sir?
Chrem. Get out with you. What, I frightened? There’s not a man alive less so.
Chrem. Get out of here. What, am I scared? There's not a single guy alive who's less scared than me.
Thais. Then now is the time to prove it.
Thais. Now is the time to show it.
Chrem. Why, I wonder what sort of a man you take me to be.
Chrem. I’m curious about what kind of person you think I am.
Thais. Nay, and consider this too; the person that you have to deal with is a foreigner;94 of less influence than you, less known, and one that has fewer friends here.
Thais. No, and think about this as well; the person you’re dealing with is a foreigner;94 with less influence than you, less known, and someone who has fewer friends here.
Chrem. I’m aware of that; but it’s foolish to run the risk of what you are able to avoid. I had rather we should prevent it, than, having received an injury, avenge ourselves 112 upon him. Do you go in and fasten the door, while I run across hence to the Forum; I should like us to have the aid of some legal adviser in this disturbance. (Moves, as if going.)
Chrem. I get that; but it’s stupid to take a risk when you can avoid it. I’d rather we prevent it than get hurt and then try to get back at him. 112 You go in and lock the door while I head over to the Forum; I think we could use some legal advice in this situation. (Moves, as if going.)
Thais. (holding him.) Stay.
Stay.
Chrem. Let me go, I’ll be here presently.
Chrem. Let me go, I’ll be back soon.
Thais. There’s no occasion, Chremes. Only say that she is your sister, and that you lost her when a little girl, and have now recognized her; then show the tokens.
Thai people. There's no need for a special occasion, Chremes. Just say that she’s your sister and that you lost her when she was a little girl, and now you've found her again; then show the proof.
Re-enter Pythias from the house, with the trinkets.
Re-enter Pythias from the house, holding the trinkets.
Pyth. (giving them to Thais.) Here they are.
Pyth. (handing them to Thais.) Here you go.
Thais. (giving them to Chremes.) Take them. If he offers any violence, summon the fellow to justice; do you understand me?
Thais. (handing them to Chremes.) Here you go. If he tries to hurt you, bring him to justice; do you get what I mean?
Chrem. Perfectly.
Chrem. Absolutely.
Thais. Take care and say this with presence of mind.
Thais. Be careful and say this thoughtfully.
Chrem. I’ll take care.
Chrem. I've got it covered.
Thais. Gather up your cloak. (Aside.) Undone! the very person whom I’ve provided as a champion, wants one himself.
Thai people. Grab your cloak. (Aside.) Unbelievable! The very person I've set up as a champion wants to be saved himself.
They all go into the house.
They all go inside the house.
Scene VIII.
Enter Thraso, followed by Gnatho, Sanga, and other Attendants.
Enter Thraso, followed by Gnatho, Sanga, and other attendants.
Thra. Am I to submit, Gnatho, to such a glaring affront as this being put upon me? I’d die sooner. Simalio, Donax, Syriscus, follow me! First, I’ll storm the house.
Thra. Am I really supposed to accept this obvious insult, Gnatho? I'd rather die. Simalio, Donax, Syriscus, come with me! First, I'm going to attack the house.
Gna. Quite right.
Gna. Exactly.
Thra. I’ll carry off the girl.
Thra. I'll take the girl.
Gna. Very good.
Gna. Awesome.
Thra. I’ll give her own self a mauling.
Thra. I’ll give her a good thrashing.
Gna. Very proper.
Gna. So formal.
Thra. (arranging the men.) Advance hither to the main body, Donax, with your crowbar; you, Simalio, to the left wing; you, Syriscus, to the right. Bring up the rest; where’s the centurion Sanga, and his maniple95 of rogues?
Thra. (arranging the men.) Come here to the main group, Donax, with your crowbar; you, Simalio, to the left side; you, Syriscus, to the right. Bring up the rest; where’s the centurion Sanga and his bunch of troublemakers?
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San. (coming forward.) See, here he is.
San. (stepping forward.) Look, here he is.
Thra. What, you booby, do you think of fighting with a dish-clout,96 to be bringing that here?
Thra. What, you fool, do you think you can fight with a dishcloth? 96 Why would you bring that here?
San. What, I? I knew the valor of the general, and the prowess of the soldiers; and that this could not possibly go on without bloodshed; how was I to wipe the wounds?
San. What, me? I recognized the bravery of the general and the skill of the soldiers; and I knew this couldn't go on without bloodshed; how was I supposed to heal the wounds?
Thra. Where are the others?
Thra. Where’s everyone else?
San. Plague on you, what others? Sannio is the only one left on guard at home.
San. Curse you, what others? Sannio is the only one still on guard at home.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) Do you draw up your men in battle order; I’ll be behind the second rank;97 from that position I’ll give the word to all.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) Get your men in battle formation; I'll stand behind the second rank;97 from there I'll give the command to everyone.
Takes his place behind the second rank.
Takes his position behind the second row.
Gna. (aside.) That’s showing prudence; as soon as he has drawn them up, he secures a retreat for himself.
Gonna. (aside.) That’s being smart; as soon as he has arranged things, he makes sure he has an escape route for himself.
Thra. (pointing to the arrangements.) This is just the way Pyrrhus used to proceed.98
Thra. (pointing to the arrangements.) This is exactly how Pyrrhus used to do things. 98
Chremes and Thais appear above at a window.
Chremes and Thais appear at a window above.
Chrem. Do you see, Thais, what plan he is upon? 114 Assuredly, that advice of mine about closing the door was good.
Chrem. Do you see, Thais, what he's up to? 114 Definitely, my suggestion about closing the door was a smart move.
Thais. He who now seems to you to be a hero, is in reality a mere vaporer; don’t be alarmed.
Thais. The person you see as a hero is actually just a blowhard; don't worry.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) What seems best to you?
Thra. (to Gnatho.) What do you think is best?
Gna. I could very much99 like a sling to be given you just now, that you might pelt them from here on the sly at a distance; they would be taking to flight.
Gonna. I really wish I could give you a slingshot right now so you could secretly throw things at them from here; they'd take off running.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) But look (pointing), I see Thais there herself.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) But look (pointing), I see Thais over there.
Gna. How soon are we to fall to?
Gonna. When are we going to start?
Thra. Hold (holding him back); it behooves a prudent person to make trial of every thing before arms. How do you know but that she may do what I bid her without compulsion?
Thra. Hold (holding him back); it's wise for a cautious person to try everything before resorting to violence. How do you know she won't do what I ask her willingly?
Gna. Ye Gods, by our trust in you, what a thing it is to be wise! I never come near you but what I go away from you the wiser.
Gonna. Oh my gods, it’s amazing to trust in you and be wise! Every time I come to you, I leave feeling even wiser.
Thra. Thais, in the first place, answer me this. When I presented you that girl, did you not say that you would give yourself up to me alone for some days to come?
Thra. Thais, first of all, answer me this. When I introduced that girl to you, didn’t you say that you would devote yourself to me alone for a few days?
Thais. Well, what then?
Thais. So, what's next?
Thra. Do you ask the question? You, who have been and brought your lover under my very eyes? What business had you with him? With him, too, you clandestinely betook yourself away from me.
Thra. Are you really asking that? You, who have been and brought your lover right in front of me? What were you doing with him? You even sneaked away with him behind my back.
Thais. I chose to do so.
Thais. I chose to do this.
Thra. Then give me back Pamphila; unless you had rather she were taken away by force.
Thra. Then give me back Pamphila; unless you'd prefer she was taken away by force.
Chrem. Give her back to you, or you lay hands upon her? Of all the—
Chrem. Are you going to give her back to you, or will you put your hands on her? Of all the—
Gna. Ha! What are you about? Hold your tongue.
Gonna. Ha! What are you doing? Be quiet.
Thra. What do you mean? Am I not to touch my own?
Thra. What do you mean? Am I not allowed to touch my own?
Chrem. Your own, indeed, you gallows-bird!100
Chrem. Your own, indeed, you scoundrel!__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
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Gna. (to Chremes.) Have a care, if you please. You don’t know what kind of man you are abusing now.
Gonna. (to Chremes.) Be careful, please. You don’t know what kind of person you’re messing with right now.
Chrem. (to Gnatho.) Won’t you be off from here? Do you know how matters stand with you? If you cause any disturbance here to-day, I’ll make you remember the place, and day, and me too, for the rest of your life.
Chrem. (to Gnatho.) Are you going to leave? Do you realize what's going on with you? If you create any trouble here today, you'll remember this place, this day, and me for the rest of your life.
Gna. I pity you, who are making so great a man as this your enemy.
Gonna. I feel sorry for you, turning such a great man into your enemy.
Chrem. I’ll break your head this instant if you are not off.
Chrem. I'll smash your head right now if you don't get lost.
Gna. Do you really say so, puppy? Is it that you are at?
Gonna. Do you really mean that, puppy? Is that where you are?
Thra. (to Chremes.) What fellow are you? What do you mean? What business have you with her?
Thra. (to Chremes.) Who are you? What are you talking about? What do you want with her?
Chrem. I’ll let you know: in the first place, I assert that she is a freeborn woman.
Chrem. Just so you know: first of all, I claim that she is a freeborn woman.
Thra. (starting.) Ha!
Thra. (starting.) Haha!
Chrem. A citizen of Attica.
Chrem. An Attican citizen.
Thra. Whew!
Thra. Wow!
Chrem. My own sister.
My own sister.
Thra. Brazen face!
Thra. Bold face!
Chrem. Now, therefore, Captain, I give you warning; don’t you use any violence toward her. Thais, I’m going to Sophrona, the nurse, that I may bring her here and show her these tokens.
Chrem. So, Captain, I'm warning you; don't be violent with her. Thais, I'm going to get Sophrona, the nurse, so I can bring her here and show her these things.
Thra. What! Are you to prevent me from touching what’s my own?
Thra. What! Are you going to stop me from touching what's mine?
Chrem. I will prevent it, I tell you.
Chrem. I’m going to stop it, I swear.
Gna. (to Thraso.) Do you hear him? He is convicting himself of theft. Is not that enough for you?
Gonna. (to Thraso.) Can you hear him? He's admitting to stealing. Isn't that enough for you?
Thra. Do you say the same, Thais?
Thra. Do you feel the same way, Thais?
Thais. Go, find some one to answer you.
Thais. Go, find someone to answer you.
She and Chremes go away from the window.
She and Chremes walk away from the window.
Thra. (to Gnatho.) What are we to do now?
Thra. (to Gnatho.) What should we do now?
Gna. Why, go back again: she’ll soon be with you, of her own accord, to entreat forgiveness.
Gonna. Why not go back again? She'll be with you soon, on her own, to ask for forgiveness.
Thra. Do you think so?
Do you think so?
Gna. Certainly, yes. I know the disposition of women: when you will, they won’t; when you won’t, they set their hearts upon you of their own inclination.
Gonna. Absolutely. I understand how women are: when you want them, they don't want you; when you don't, they suddenly desire you on their own.
Thra. You judge right.
Thra. You’re spot on.
Gna. Shall I dismiss the army then?
Gotta. Should I send the army away then?
Thra. Whenever you like.
Thra. Whenever you want.
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Gna. Sanga, as befits gallant soldiers,101 take care in your turn to remember your homes and hearths.
Gonna. Sanga, as honorable soldiers, take the time to remember your homes and families.
San. My thoughts have been for some time among the sauce-pans.
San. I've been thinking about the saucepans for a while now.
Gna. You are a worthy fellow.
Gna. You're a good guy.
Thra. (putting himself at their head.) You follow me this way.
Thra. (taking the lead.) You guys follow me this way.
Exeunt omnes.
Exit everyone.
ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Enter Thais from her house, followed by Pythias.
Enter Thais from her house, followed by Pythias.
Thais. What! do you persist, hussy, in talking ambiguously to me? “I do know;” “I don’t know;” “he has gone off;” “I have heard;” “I wasn’t there.” Don’t you mean to tell me plainly, whatever it is? The girl in tears, with her garments torn, is mute; the Eunuch is off: for what reason? What has happened? Won’t you speak?
Thai people. What! Are you still being vague with me? “I know;” “I don’t know;” “he left;” “I heard;” “I wasn’t there.” Can’t you just tell me clearly what’s going on? The girl, in tears with her clothes torn, isn’t saying anything; the Eunuch is gone: why? What happened? Will you please talk to me?
Pyth. Wretch that I am, what am I to say to you? They declare that he was not a Eunuch.
Pyth. What a wretch I am! What am I supposed to say to you? They claim that he wasn't a Eunuch.
Thais. What was he then?
Thais. What was he now?
Pyth. That Chærea.
Pyth. That Chærea.
Thais. What Chærea?
Thais. What’s up, Chærea?
Pyth. That stripling, the brother of Phædria.
Pyth. That young guy, Phædria's brother.
Thais. What’s that you say, you hag?
Thai people. What did you just say, you old witch?
Pyth. And I am satisfied of it.
Pythagorean. And I am sure of it.
Thais. Pray, what business had he at my house? What brought him there?
Thais. What was he doing at my house? What took him there?
Pyth. I don’t know; unless, as I suppose, he was in love with Pamphila.
Pyth. I don't know; unless, as I guess, he was in love with Pamphila.
Thais. Alas! to my confusion, unhappy woman that I am, I’m undone, if what you tell me is true. Is it about this that the girl is crying?
Thais. Oh no! To my bewilderment, miserable woman that I am, I'm finished if what you’re saying is true. Is this why the girl is crying?
Pyth. I believe so.
Pyth. I think so.
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Thais. How say you, you arch-jade? Did I not warn you about this very thing, when I was going away from here?
Thais. What do you say, you sneaky person? Didn't I warn you about this exact thing when I was leaving here?
Pyth. What could I do? Just as you ordered, she was intrusted to his care only.
Pythia. What was I supposed to do? Just like you said, she was only left in his care.
Thais. Hussy, I’ve been intrusting the sheep to the wolf. I’m quite ashamed to have been imposed upon in this way. What sort of man was he?
Thais. I’ve been trusting the sheep to the wolf. I feel really ashamed to have been deceived like this. What kind of man was he?
Pyth. Hush! hush! mistress, pray; we are all right. Here we have the very man.
Pyth. Shh! Please, my lady; everything is fine. We have the exact person right here.
Thais. Where is he?
Thais. Where is she?
Pyth. Why there, to the left. Don’t you see?
Pythagorean Look over there, to the left. Can’t you see it?
Thais. I see.
Thais. Got it.
Pyth. Order him to be seized as quickly as possible.
Pyth. Tell him to be captured as soon as possible.
Thais. What can we do to him, simpleton?
Thais people. What should we do with him, fool?
Pyth. What do to him, do you ask? Pray, do look at him; if his face doesn’t seem an impudent one.
Python. What should we do with him, you ask? Please, just look at him; doesn’t his face look pretty cheeky?
Thais. Not at all.
Thais. Not even close.
Pyth. Besides, what effrontery he has.
Pyth. Besides, what nerve he has.
Scene II.
Enter Chærea, in the Eunuch’s dress, on the other side of the stage.
Enter Chærea, in the Eunuch outfit, on the other side of the stage.
Chæ. (to himself.) At Antipho’s,102 both of them, father and mother, just as if on purpose, were at home, so that I couldn’t any way get in, but that they must have seen me. In the mean time, while I was standing before the door, a certain acquaintance of mine was coming full upon me. When I espied him, I took to my heels as fast as I could down a narrow unfrequented alley; thence again to another, and thence to another; thus have I been most dreadfully harassed with running about, that no one might recognize me. But isn’t this Thais that I see? It is she. I’m at a stand. What shall I do? But what need I care? What can she do to me?
Chill. (to himself.) At Antipho’s, both of them, my mom and dad, were at home, like it was planned, so there was no way for me to sneak in without them seeing me. Meanwhile, while I was waiting by the door, an acquaintance showed up out of nowhere. When I spotted him, I took off running as fast as I could down a narrow, empty alley; then to another one, and then to another. I’ve been running around like crazy just so no one would recognize me. But wait, isn’t that Thais? It is her. I’m stuck. What should I do? But why should I worry? What can she do to me?
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Thais, (to Pythias.) Let’s accost him. (To Chærea.) Good Mister Dorus, welcome; tell me, have you been running away?
Thais, (to Pythias.) Let’s approach him. (To Chærea.) Good Mr. Dorus, welcome; tell me, have you been trying to escape?
Chæ. Madam, I did so.
Chæ. Ma'am, I did.
Thais. Are you quite pleased with it?
Thais. Are you happy with it?
Chæ. No.
Chæ. Nah.
Thais. Do you fancy that you’ll get off with impunity?
Thai people. Do you really think you can get away with this without consequences?
Chæ. Forgive this one fault; if I’m ever guilty of another, then kill me.
Chill. Please forgive this one mistake; if I ever make another one, then take my life.
Thais. Were you in fear of my severity?
Thais. Were you afraid of my harshness?
Chæ. No.
Chæ. Nope.
Thais. No? What then?
Thais. No? What else?
Chæ. (pointing at Pythias.) I was afraid of her, lest she might be accusing me to you.
Chè. (pointing at Pythias.) I was scared of her, in case she was telling you something bad about me.
Thais. What had you done?
What did you do?
Chæ. A mere trifle.
Chæ. Just a little thing.
Pyth. Come now, a trifle, you impudent fellow. Does this appear a trifle to you, to ravish a virgin, a citizen?
Python. Come on, you cheeky guy. Does this seem like a small matter to you, to violate a virgin, a citizen?
Chæ. I took her for my fellow-servant.
Chae. I thought she was my coworker.
Pyth. Fellow-servant? I can hardly restrain myself from flying at his hair. A miscreant! Even of his own free will he comes to make fun of us.
Pyth. Fellow servant? I can barely hold myself back from going straight for his hair. What a jerk! He even chooses to come here and mock us.
Thais, (to Pythias.) Won’t you begone from here, you mad woman?
Thais, (to Pythias.) Will you please get out of here, you crazy woman?
Pyth. Why so? Really, I do believe I should be something in this hang-dog’s debt, if I were to do so; especially as he owns that he is your servant.
Pythagorean. Why is that? Honestly, I feel like I’d owe something to this miserable guy if I did that, especially since he admits he’s your servant.
Thais. We’ll pass that by. Chærea, you have behaved unworthily of yourself; for if I am deserving in the highest degree of this affront, still it is unbecoming of you to be guilty of it. And, upon my faith, I do not know what method now to adopt about this girl: you have so confounded all my plans, that I can not possibly return her to her friends in such a manner as is befitting and as I had intended; in order that, by this means, I might, Chærea, do a real service to myself.
Thai people. Let’s move past that. Chærea, you’ve acted beneath your dignity; even if I deserve this insult to the highest degree, it’s still unacceptable for you to do it. Honestly, I don’t know what to do about this girl now: you’ve messed up all my plans so badly that I can’t return her to her friends in a proper way, as I intended. I wanted to do myself a real favor, Chærea.
Chæ. But now, from henceforth, I hope, Thais, that there will be lasting good-will between us. Many a time, from some affair of this kind and from a bad beginning, great friendships have sprung up. What if some Divinity has willed this?
Chae. But now, from this point forward, I hope, Thais, that we can have lasting goodwill between us. Many times, from something like this and a rough start, strong friendships have formed. What if some divine power has intended this?
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Thais. I’faith, for my own part I both take it in that view and wish to do so.
Thais. Honestly, for my part, I see it that way and I want to do so.
Chæ. Yes, prithee, do so. Be sure of this one thing, that I did not do it for the sake of affronting you, but in consequence of passion.
Chill. Yes, please do that. Just be sure of one thing: I didn’t do it to insult you, but because of my feelings.
Thais. I understand, and, i’faith, for that reason do I now the more readily forgive you. I am not, Chærea, of a disposition so ungentle, or so inexperienced, as not to know what is the power of love.
Thais. I get it, and honestly, that's why I'm more willing to forgive you now. I'm not, Chærea, someone who's so harsh or so naive that I don't understand the power of love.
Chæ. So may the Deities kindly bless me, Thais; I am now smitten with you as well.
Ché. May the gods bless me, Thais; I am now infatuated with you too.
Pyth. Then, i’faith, mistress, I foresee you must have a care of him.
Pythagorean. Then, honestly, ma'am, I can see you need to be careful with him.
Chæ. I would not dare—
Chæ. I wouldn't dare—
Pyth. I won’t trust you at all in any thing.
Pythia I won't trust you at all with anything.
Thais, (to Pythias.) Do have done.
Thais, (to Pythias.) I have done it.
Chæ. Now I entreat you that you will be my assistant in this affair. I intrust and commit myself to your care; I take you, Thais, as my protectress; I implore you; I shall die if I don’t have her for my wife.
Chill. Now I ask you to help me with this situation. I trust you completely; I choose you, Thais, as my protector; I’m begging you; I’ll be devastated if I can’t have her as my wife.
Thais. But if your father should say any thing—
Thai people. But if your dad were to say anything—
Chæ. Oh, he’ll consent, I’m quite sure of that, if she is only a citizen.
Chay. Oh, he’ll agree, I’m pretty sure of that, as long as she’s just a regular person.
Thais. If you will wait a little, the brother himself of the young woman will be here presently; he has gone to fetch the nurse, who brought her up when a little child; you yourself, shall be present Chærea, at his recognition of her.
Thai people. If you wait a moment, the young woman's brother will be here soon; he has gone to get the nurse who took care of her when she was a child. You will be there, Chærea, to witness their reunion.
Chæ. I certainly will stay.
Chæ. I'll definitely stay.
Thais. In the mean time, until he comes, would you prefer that we should wait for him in the house, rather than here before the door?
Thai people. In the meantime, would you rather we wait for him inside the house instead of out here by the door?
Chæ. Why yes, I should like it much.
Chae. Of course, I would really like that.
Pyth. (to Thais.) Prithee, what are you going to do?
Python. (to Thais.) Please, what are you planning to do?
Thais. Why, what’s the matter?
Thais. What's wrong?
Pyth. Do you ask? Do you think of admitting him after this into your house?
Python. Are you asking? Do you really think you can let him into your house after this?
Thais. Why not?
Thais. Why not?
Pyth. Trust my word for it, he’ll be creating some new disturbance.
Python. Believe me, he's going to cause some new trouble.
Thais. O dear, prithee, do hold your tongue.
Thai people. Oh dear, please hold your tongue.
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Pyth. You seem to me to be far from sensible of his assurance.
Pythian. You don’t seem to realize how confident he is.
Chæ. I’ll not do any thing, Pythias.
Chæ. I'm not doing anything, Pythias.
Pyth. Upon my faith, I don’t believe you, Chærea, except in case you are not trusted.
Python. Honestly, I don’t believe you, Chærea, unless you’re not trusted.
Chæ. Nay but, Pythias, do you be my keeper.
Chae. No, Pythias, you need to be my guardian.
Pyth. Upon my faith, I would neither venture to give any thing to you to keep, nor to keep you myself: away with you!
Pythagoras. Honestly, I wouldn't trust you with anything to hold onto, nor would I keep you close to me: just go away!
Thais. Most opportunely the brother himself is coming.
Thais. Fortunately, the brother himself is on his way.
Chæ. I’faith, I’m undone. Prithee, let’s be gone in-doors, Thais. I don’t want him to see me in the street with this dress on.
Chae. Seriously, I'm in trouble. Come on, let's go inside, Thais. I don’t want him to see me out here in this outfit.
Thais. For what reason, pray? Because you are ashamed?
Thais. Why, exactly? Is it because you're embarrassed?
Chæ. Just so.
Chæ. Exactly.
Pyth. Just so? But the young woman——
Python Is that so? But the young woman——
Thais. Go first; I’ll follow. You stay here, Pythias, that you may show Chremes in.
Thai people. You go ahead; I’ll come after you. You stay here, Pythias, so you can let Chremes in.
Thais and Chærea go into the house.
Thais and Chærea enter the house.
Scene III.
Enter Chremes and Sophrona.
Enter Chremes and Sophrona.
Pyth. (to herself.) Well! what now can suggest itself to my mind? What, I wonder, in order that I may repay the favor to that villain who palmed this fellow off upon us?
Pyth (to herself.) Well! What can I think of now? What, I wonder, can I do to pay back that jerk who tricked us with this guy?
Chrem. Really, do bestir yourself more quickly, nurse.
Chrem. Seriously, can you hurry up a bit, nurse?
Soph. I am bestirring.
Soph. I'm getting moving.
Chrem. So I see; but you don’t stir forward.
Chrem. So I get it; but you’re not moving ahead.
Pyth. (to Chremes.) Have you yet shown the tokens to the nurse?
Pyth. (to Chremes.) Have you shown the tokens to the nurse yet?
Chrem. All of them.
Chrem. Everyone.
Pyth. Prithee, what does she say? Does she recognize them?
Pyth. Please, what does she say? Does she know them?
Chrem. Yes, with a full recollection of them.
Chrem. Yeah, I remember them all clearly.
Pyth. Upon my faith, you do bring good news; for I really wish well to this young woman. Go in-doors: my mistress has been for some time expecting you at home. (Chremes and Sophrona go into Thais’s house.) But look, yonder I espy that worthy fellow, Parmeno, coming: just see, for heaven’s sake, how leisurely he moves along. I hope I have it in my power to torment him after my own fashion. 121 I’ll go in-doors, that I may know for certain about the discovery; afterward I’ll come out, and give this villain a terrible fright.
Pythons. Honestly, you bring great news; I truly wish the best for this young woman. Go inside: my mistress has been waiting for you at home for a while now. (Chremes and Sophrona go into Thais's house.) But look, I see that good guy, Parmeno, coming: just check out how slowly he's moving. I hope I get to tease him in my own way. 121 I'll go inside to find out exactly what's happened; then I'll come back out and give this guy a huge scare.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Scene IV.
Enter Parmeno.
Enter Parmeno.
Par. (to himself.) I’ve just come back to see what Chærea has been doing here. If he has managed the affair with dexterity, ye Gods, by our trust in you, how great and genuine applause will Parmeno obtain! For not to mention that a passion, full of difficulty and expense, with which he was smitten for a virgin, belonging to an extortionate courtesan, I’ve found means of satisfying for him, without molestation, without outlay, and without cost; then, this other point—that is really a thing that I consider my crowning merit, to have found out the way by which a young man may be enabled to learn the dispositions and manners of courtesans, so that by knowing them betimes, he may detest them ever after. (Pythias enters from the house unperceived.) For while they are out of doors, nothing seems more cleanly, nothing more neat or more elegant; and when they dine with a gallant, they pick daintily about:103 to see the filth, the dirtiness, the neediness of these women; how sluttish they are when at home, and how greedy after victuals; in what a fashion they devour the black bread with yesterday’s broth:—to know all this, is salvation to a young man.
Par. (to himself.) I’ve just come back to see what Chærea has been up to here. If he’s handled things well, oh my God, how much genuine praise Parmeno will get! Not to mention that he fell for a woman who’s difficult and pricey, who belongs to a money-hungry courtesan, but I’ve found a way to help him out without hassle, without spending anything, and without cost; then there’s this other thing—which I consider my biggest achievement—figuring out how a young man can learn about the attitudes and behaviors of courtesans, so that by understanding them early on, he can learn to hate them forever. (Pythias enters from the house unperceived.) Because when they’re outside, nothing looks cleaner, nothing seems neater or more elegant; and when they’re dining with a guy, they delicately pick at their food: 103 to see the filth, the dirt, the desperation of these women; how messy they are at home, and how greedy they get for food; the way they stuff themselves with stale bread and yesterday’s broth:—knowing all this is a lifesaver for a young man.
Scene V.
Enter Pythias from the house.
Enter Pythias from the house.
Pyth. (apart, unseen by Parmeno.) Upon my faith, you villain, I’ll take vengeance upon you for these sayings and doings; so that you sha’n’t make sport of us with impunity. 122 (Aloud, coming forward.) O, by our trust in the Gods, what a disgraceful action! O hapless young man! O wicked Parmeno, to have brought him here!
Python. (aside, hidden from Parmeno.) Honestly, you scoundrel, I’m going to get back at you for what you’ve said and done; you won’t be able to mock us without consequences. 122 (loudly, stepping forward.) Oh, by our faith in the Gods, what a shameful act! Oh poor young man! Oh evil Parmeno, how could you bring him here!
Par. What’s the matter?
Par. What's wrong?
Pyth. I do pity him; and so that I mightn’t see it, wretched creature that I am, I hurried away out of doors. What a dreadful example they talk of making him!
Python. I feel sorry for him; and to avoid seeing it, miserable as I am, I rushed outside. What a terrible example they say they're setting with him!
Par. O Jupiter! What is this tumult? Am I then undone? I’ll accost her. What’s all this, Pythias? What are you saying? An example made of whom?
Par. Oh Jupiter! What’s all this commotion? Am I finished? I’ll confront her. What’s going on, Pythias? What are you talking about? Who's being made an example of?
Pyth. Do you ask the question, you most audacious fellow? You’ve proved the ruin of the young man whom you brought hither for the Eunuch, while you were trying to put a trick upon us.
Python. Are you really asking that, you bold guy? You’ve caused the downfall of the young man you brought here for the eunuch while you were trying to pull a fast one on us.
Par. How so, or what has happened? Tell me.
Par. What’s going on, or what happened? Tell me.
Pyth. I’ll tell you: that young woman who was to-day made a present to Thais, are you aware that she is a citizen of this place, and that her brother is a person of very high rank?
Python. I'll tell you: that young woman who was given to Thais today, did you know she’s from here and that her brother is someone of high status?
Par. I didn’t know that.
Par. I didn’t know that.
Pyth. But so she has been discovered to be; he, unfortunate youth, has ravished her. When the brother came to know of this being done, in a most towering rage, he——
Python. But that's how she's been found out; he, poor guy, has violated her. When the brother found out what had happened, he was incredibly furious, he——
Par. Did what, pray?
Did what, really?
Pyth. First, bound him in a shocking manner.
Python. First, tie him up in an unexpected way.
Par. Bound him?
Par. Did you restrain him?
Pyth. And even though Thais entreated him that he wouldn’t do so——
Pythagoras. And even though Thais begged him not to do it——
Par. What is it you tell me?
Par. What are you saying to me?
Pyth. Now he is threatening that he will also do that which is usually done to ravishers; a thing that I never saw done, nor wish to.
Pythia. Now he’s saying that he will also do what’s usually done to attackers; something I’ve never seen happen, nor do I want to.
Par. With what assurance does he dare perpetrate a crime so heinous?
Par. With what confidence does he dare commit such a terrible crime?
Pyth. How “so heinous?”
Pyth. How is that "so awful?"
Par. Is it not most heinous? Who ever saw any one taken up as a ravisher in a courtesan’s house?
Par. Isn't that just terrible? Who has ever seen someone arrested for assaulting someone in a prostitute's house?
Pyth. I don’t know.
I have no idea.
Par. But that you mayn’t be ignorant of this, Pythias, I tell you, and give you notice that he is my master’s son.
Par. But so you won't be unaware of this, Pythias, I want to let you know that he is my master's son.
Pyth. How! Prithee, is it he?
Pyth. Hey! Is that him?
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Par. Don’t let Thais suffer any violence to be done to him. But why don’t I go in myself?
Par. Don't let anyone harm Thais. But why don't I just go in myself?
Pyth. Take care, Parmeno, what you are about, lest you both do him no good and come to harm yourself; for it is their notion, that whatever has happened, has originated in you.
Python. Be careful, Parmeno, with what you’re doing, or you might end up not helping him and getting yourself hurt in the process; because they believe that whatever has happened, started with you.
Par. What then, wretch that I am, shall I do, or how resolve? But look, I see the old gentleman returning from the country; shall I tell him or shall I not? By my troth, I will tell him; although I am certain that a heavy punishment is in readiness for me; but it’s a matter of necessity, in order that he may rescue him.
Par. What should I do, poor me, or how should I decide? But wait, I see the old man coming back from the country; should I tell him or not? Honestly, I’m going to tell him; even though I know there will be serious consequences for me, it’s necessary so he can help him.
Pyth. You are wise. I’m going in-doors; do you relate to him every thing exactly as it happened.
Pythagorean. You’re smart. I’m going inside; make sure to tell him everything exactly as it happened.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Scene VI.
Enter Laches.
Enter Laches.
Lach. (to himself.) I have this advantage104 from my country-house being so near at hand; no weariness, either of country or of town, ever takes possession of me; when satiety begins to come on, I change my locality. But is not that our Parmeno? Surely it is he. Whom are you waiting for, Parmeno, before the door here?
LMAO. (to himself.) I have this advantage—A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0—since my country house is so close; I never get tired of either the country or the city. When I start to feel bored, I just switch locations. But isn’t that Parmeno? It must be him. Who are you waiting for, Parmeno, out here by the door?
Par. (pretends not to see him.) Who is it? (Turning round.) Oh, I’m glad that you have returned safe.
Par. (pretends not to see him.) Who's there? (Turning around.) Oh, I'm so glad you're back safe.
Lach. Whom are you waiting for?
Lach. Who are you waiting for?
Par. (aside.) I’m undone: my tongue cleaves to my mouth through fright.
Par. (aside.) I’m done for: my tongue sticks to my mouth out of fear.
Lach. Why, what is it you are trembling about? Is all quite right? Tell me.
Lmao. Why are you shaking? Is everything okay? Tell me.
Par. Master, in the first place, I would have you persuaded of what is the fact; whatever has happened in this affair has happened through no fault of mine.
Par. Master, first of all, I want you to understand that whatever happened in this situation was not my fault.
Lach. What is it?
Lach. What’s up?
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Par. Really you have reason to ask. I ought first to have told you the circumstances. Phædria purchased a certain Eunuch, to make a present of to this woman here.
Par. You really have a good reason to ask. I should have first explained the situation. Phædria bought a certain eunuch to give as a gift to this woman here.
Lach. To what woman?
Lach. Which woman?
Par. To Thais.
To Thais.
Lach. Bought? Good heavens, I’m undone! For how much?
Lmao. Bought? Oh my gosh, I'm in trouble! For how much?
Par. Twenty minæ.
Twenty mina.
Lach. Done for, quite.
Lach. Totally done for.
Par. Then, Chærea is in love with a certain music-girl here. (Pointing to Thais’s house.)
Par. Then, Chærea is in love with a certain singer here. (Pointing to Thais's house.)
Lach. How! What? In love? Does he know already what a courtesan means? Is he come to town? One misfortune close upon another.
Lmao. What! He's in love? Does he even know what a courtesan is? Has he arrived in town? One problem after another.
Par. Master, don’t look so at me; he didn’t do these things by my encouragement.
Par. Master, don’t look at me like that; he didn’t do these things because I encouraged him.
Lach. Leave off talking about yourself. If I live, you hang-dog, I’ll——But first give me an account of it, whatever it is.
Lmao. Stop talking about yourself. If I survive, you loser, I’ll——But first tell me what happened, whatever it is.
Par. He was taken to the house of Thais in place of the Eunuch.
Par. He was brought to Thais's house instead of the Eunuch.
Lach. In place of the Eunuch?
Lach. Instead of the Eunuch?
Par. Such is the fact. They have since apprehended him in the house as a ravisher, and bound him.
Par. That's the truth. They've since caught him in the house as a rapist and tied him up.
Lach. Death!
Lach. Death!
Par. Mark the assurance of courtesans.
Mark the assurance of escorts.
Lach. Is there any other calamity or misfortune besides, that you have not told me of?
LMAO. Is there any other disaster or bad luck that you haven't shared with me?
Par. That’s all.
That’s it.
Lach. Do I delay rushing in here?
LMAO. Am I taking too long to rush in here?
Runs into the house of Thais.
Runs into Thais's house.
Par. (to himself.) There’s no doubt but that I shall have a heavy punishment for this affair, only that I was obliged to act thus. I’m glad of this, that some mischief will befall these women here through my agency, for the old man has, for a long time, been on the look-out for some occasion105 to do them a bad turn; at last he has found it.
Par. (to himself.) There’s no doubt I’m going to get in serious trouble for this, but I had no choice. I’m actually pleased that some trouble will come to these women because of my actions, since the old man has been waiting for a chance to get back at them for a long time; now he finally has it.
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Scene VII.
Enter Pythias from the house of Thais, laughing.
Enter Pythias from Thais's house, laughing.
Pyth. (to herself, on entering.) Never, upon my faith, for a long time past, has any thing happened to me that I could have better liked to happen, than the old gentleman just now, full of his mistake, coming into our house. I had the joke all to myself, as I knew106 what it was he feared.
Python. (to herself, on entering.) Honestly, it’s been a while since something happened that I liked more than the old man just now, confidently walking into our house with his misunderstanding. I had the whole joke to myself since I knew what he was actually afraid of.
Par. (apart). Why, what’s all this?
Par. (apart). What's going on here?
Pyth. Now I’m come out to meet with Parmeno. But, prithee, where is he? (Looking around.)
Pythons. Now I’ve come out to meet Parmeno. But, please, where is he? (Looking around.)
Par. (apart.) She’s looking for me.
Par. (apart.) She’s searching for me.
Pyth. And there he is, I see; I’ll go up to him.
Python. There he is, I see him; I'm going to go talk to him.
Par. What’s the matter, simpleton? What do you mean? What are you laughing about? Still going on?
Par. What’s wrong, fool? What do you mean? What are you laughing at? Still going on?
Pyth. (laughing.) I’m dying; I’m wretchedly tired with laughing at you.
Pythagorean (laughing.) I’m dying; I’m completely worn out from laughing at you.
Par. Why so?
Par. Why?
Pyth. Do you ask? Upon my faith, I never did see, nor shall see, a more silly fellow. Oh dear, I can not well express what amusement you’ve afforded in-doors. And still I formerly took you to be a clever and shrewd person. Why, was there any need for you instantly to believe what I told you? Or were you not content with the crime, which by your advice the young man had been guilty of, without betraying the poor fellow to his father as well? Why, 126 what do you suppose his feelings must have been at the moment when his father saw him clothed in that dress? Well, do you now understand that you are done for? (Laughing.)
Pythagorean Are you serious? Honestly, I’ve never met a more foolish person. Wow, I can’t even describe how much laughs you’ve brought indoors. And I used to think you were smart and sharp. Was there really any reason for you to believe me right away? Or were you not satisfied with the trouble the young man got into because of your advice, without also spilling the beans to his dad? Just think about how he must have felt when his father saw him in that outfit. So, do you get it now that you’re in big trouble? (Laughing.)
Par. Hah! what is it you say, you hussy? Have you been telling me lies? What, laughing still? Does it appear so delightful to you, you jade, to be making fools of us?
Par. Hah! What are you saying, you hussy? Have you been lying to me? What, you're still laughing? Does it seem so entertaining to you, you jade, to be making fools of us?
Pyth. (laughing.) Very much so.
Pyth. (laughing.) Definitely.
Par. Yes, indeed, if you can do it with impunity.
Par. Yes, of course, if you can do it without consequences.
Pyth. Exactly so.
Pyth. That's correct.
Par. By heavens, I’ll repay you!
Par. I swear, I’ll repay you!
Pyth. I believe you; but, perhaps, that which you are threatening, Parmeno, will need a future day; you’ll be trussed up directly, for rendering a silly young man remarkable for disgraceful conduct, and then betraying him to his father; they’ll both be making an example of you. (Laughing.)
Python. I believe you; but, maybe what you're threatening, Parmeno, will need to happen another day; you’ll be tied up soon for making a foolish young man known for his embarrassing behavior, and then betraying him to his father; both of them will use you as an example. (Laughing.)
Par. I’m done for!
I’m finished!
Pyth. This reward has been found you in return for that present of yours;107 I’m off.
Pythons. This reward has been given to you as a thank you for your gift;107 I’m leaving.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Par. (to himself.) Wretch that I am; just like a rat, this day I’ve come to destruction through betrayal of myself.108
Par. (to himself.) What a mess I’m in; just like a rat, today I’ve brought myself down through my own betrayal.108
Scene VIII.
Enter Thraso and Gnatho.
Enter Thraso and Gnatho.
Gna. (to Thraso.) Well now? With what hope, or what design, are we come hither? What do you intend to do, Thraso?
Gonna. (to Thraso.) So what now? What are we hoping for, or what’s the plan in coming here? What do you want to do, Thraso?
Thra. What, I? To surrender myself to Thais, and do what she bids me.
Thra. What, me? To give myself up to Thais and do whatever she tells me.
Gna. What is it you say?
Gna. What are you saying?
Thra. Why any the less so, than Hercules served Omphale.109
Thra. Why is that any different from how Hercules served Omphale?109
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Gna. The precedent pleases me. (Aside.) I only wish I may see your head stroked down with a slipper;110 but her door makes a noise.
Gonna. I like the example set. (Aside.) I just hope I get to see you get your head smacked with a slipper;110 but her door creaks.
Thra. Confusion! Why, what mischief’s this? I never saw this person before; why, I wonder, is he rushing out in such a hurry?
Thra. Confusion! What kind of trouble is this? I've never seen this person before; I wonder why he's hurrying out like that?
They stand aside.
They step aside.
Scene IX.
Enter Chærea from the house of Thais, on the other side of the stage.
Enter Cherea from the house of Thai people, on the other side of the stage.
Chæ. (to himself, aloud.) O fellow-townsmen, is there any one alive more fortunate than me this day? Not any one, upon my faith: for clearly in me have the Gods manifested all their power, on whom, thus suddenly, so many blessings are bestowed.
Chae. (to himself, aloud.) O fellow townspeople, is anyone luckier than me today? No one, I swear: the Gods have clearly shown all their power through me, as so many blessings have suddenly been given to me.
Par. (apart.) Why is he thus overjoyed?
Par. (apart.) Why is he so happy?
Chæ. (seeing Parmeno, and running up to him.) O my dear Parmeno, the contriver, the beginner, the perfecter of all my delights, do you know what are my transports? Are you aware that my Pamphila has been discovered to be a citizen?
Chill. (seeing Parmeno, and running up to him.) Oh my dear Parmeno, the mastermind, the initiator, the one who makes all my joys complete, do you know what has me so excited? Are you aware that my Pamphila has been found out to be a citizen?
Par. I have heard so.
Par. I've heard that.
Chæ. Do you know that she is betrothed to me?
Chae. Did you know that she's engaged to me?
Par. So may the Gods bless me, happily done.
Par. May the gods bless me, that went well.
Gna. (apart to Thraso.) Do you hear what he says?
Gonna. (aside to Thraso.) Do you hear what he's saying?
Chæ. And then, besides, I am delighted that my brother’s mistress is secured to him; the family is united. Thais has committed herself to the patronage of my father;111 she has put herself under our care and protection.
Chae. And on top of that, I’m really happy that my brother’s girlfriend is committed to him; the family is whole. Thais has decided to support my father; 111 she has placed herself under our care and protection.
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Par. Thais, then, is wholly your brother’s.
Par. Thais, then, completely belongs to your brother.
Chæ. Of course.
Chæ. Sure thing.
Par. Then this is another reason for us to rejoice, that the Captain will be beaten out of doors.
Par. So this is another reason for us to celebrate: the Captain will be kicked out.
Chæ. Wherever my brother is, do you take care that he hears this as soon as possible.
Chae. Wherever my brother is, make sure he hears this as soon as possible.
Par. I’ll go look for him at home.
Par. I'll go check for him at home.
Goes into the house of Laches.
Enters Laches' house.
Thra. (apart to Gnatho.) Do you at all doubt, Gnatho, but that I am now ruined everlastingly?
Thra. (aside to Gnatho.) Do you really think, Gnatho, that I'm not completely ruined for good?
Gna. (to Thraso.) Without doubt, I do think so.
Gna. (to Thraso.) I really think so.
Chæ. (to himself.) What am I to make mention of first, or commend in especial? Him who gave me the advice to do so, or myself, who ventured to undertake it? Or ought I to extol fortune, who has been my guide, and has so opportunely crowded into a single day events so numerous, so important; or my father’s kindness and indulgence? Oh Jupiter, I entreat you, do preserve these blessings unto us!
Chae. (to himself.) What should I mention first, or praise in particular? The person who advised me to do this, or myself, for being brave enough to try it? Should I celebrate fate, who has led me and conveniently packed so many significant events into just one day; or should I recognize my father’s kindness and patience? Oh Jupiter, I ask you, please keep these blessings with us!
Scene X.
Enter Phædria from the house of Laches.
Enter Phædria from the house of Laches.
Phæd. (to himself.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you, what incredible things has Parmeno just related to me! But where is my brother?
Phaedrus. (to himself.) You Gods, with our faith in you, what amazing things has Parmeno just told me! But where is my brother?
Chæ. (stepping forward.) Here he is.
Chæ. (stepping forward.) Here he is.
Phæd. I’m overjoyed.
Phæd. I'm so happy.
Chæ. I quite believe you. There is no one, brother, more worthy to be loved than this Thais of yours: so much is she a benefactress to all our family.
Chae. I really believe you. There's no one, brother, more deserving of love than your Thais: she’s such a blessing to our whole family.
Phæd. Whew! are you commending her too to me?
Phaedrus. Whew! Are you praising her too to me?
Thra. (apart.) I’m undone; the less the hope I have, 129 the more I am in love. Prithee, Gnatho, my hope is in you.
Thra. (apart.) I'm falling apart; the less hope I have, 129 the more in love I feel. Please, Gnatho, my hope rests with you.
Gna. (apart.) What do you wish me to do?
Gotta. (apart.) What do you want me to do?
Thra. (apart.) Bring this about, by entreaties or with money, that I may at least share Thais’s favors in some degree.
Thra. (apart.) Make this happen, whether through requests or by offering money, so that I can at least experience some of Thais’s kindness.
Gna. (apart.) It’s a hard task.
It’s a tough task.
Thra. (apart.) If you set your mind on any thing, I know you well. If you manage this, ask me for any present you like as your reward; you shall have what you ask.
Thra. (apart.) If you focus on something, I know you well. If you succeed, ask me for any gift you want as your reward; I’ll give you what you ask for.
Gna. (apart.) Is it so?
Gna. (apart.) Is that so?
Thra. (apart.) It shall be so.
Thra. (apart.) It will be so.
Gna. (apart.) If I manage this, I ask that your house, whether you are present or absent, may be open to me; that, without invitation, there may always be a place for me.
Gonna. (apart.) If I pull this off, I hope your home, whether you're there or not, remains open to me; that there's always a spot available for me, no invitation needed.
Thra. (apart.) I pledge my honor that it shall be so.
Thra. (aside.) I promise on my honor that it will be so.
Gna. (apart.) I’ll set about it then.
Gna. (apart.) I'll get to it then.
Phæd. Who is it I hear so close at hand? (Turning round.) O Thraso—
Phaedrus. Who is it I hear nearby? (Turning around.) Oh Thraso—
Thra. (coming forward.) Save you both—
Thra. (stepping forward.) Save you both—
Phæd. Perhaps you are not aware what has taken place here.
Phaedrus. Maybe you don't know what's happened here.
Thra. I am quite aware.
Thra. I know.
Phæd. Why, then, do I see you in this neighborhood?
PhD. So, why do I see you around here?
Thra. Depending on your kindness.
Thra. Depending on your kindness.
Phæd. Do you know what sort of dependence you have? Captain, I give you notice, if ever I catch you in this street again, even if you should say to me, “I was looking for another person, I was on my road this way,” you are undone.
PhD. Do you realize the kind of dependency you have? Captain, I’m warning you—if I ever see you on this street again, even if you tell me, “I was looking for someone else, I was just passing through,” you’re finished.
Gna. Come, come, that’s not handsome.
Gna. Come on, that's not cool.
Phæd. I’ve said it.
Phæd. I've said it.
Gna. I didn’t know you gave yourself such airs.
Gonna. I didn’t know you thought so highly of yourself.
Phæd. So it shall be.
Phæd. It will be done.
Gna. First hear a few words from me; and when I have said the thing, if you approve of it, do it.
Gna. First, listen to a few words from me; and when I've said what I need to say, if you agree with it, then go ahead and do it.
Phæd. Let’s hear.
Phæd. Go ahead.
Gna. Do you step a little that way, Thraso. (Thraso stands aside.) In the first place, I wish you both implicitly to believe me in this, that whatever I do in this matter, I do it entirely for my own sake; but if the same thing is of advantage to yourselves, it would be folly for you not to do it.
Gonna. Could you move a bit to the side, Thraso. (Thraso stands aside.) First of all, I want both of you to really believe me when I say this: everything I do in this situation, I do for my own benefit. But if it also helps you, it would be foolish not to go along with it.
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Phæd. What is it?
Phæd. What's up?
Gna. I’m of opinion that the Captain, your rival, should be received among you.
Gonna. I believe the Captain, your rival, should be welcomed among you.
Phæd. (starting.) Hah!
Phæd. (starting.) Haha!
Chæ. Be received?
Chæ. Be welcomed?
Gna. (to Phædria.) Only consider. I’faith, Phaedria, at the free rate you are living with her, and indeed very freely you are living, you have but little to give; and it’s necessary for Thais to receive a good deal. That all this may be supplied for your amour and not at your own expense, there is not an individual better suited or more fitted for your purpose than the Captain. In the first place, he both has got enough to give, and no one does give more profusely. He is a fool, a dolt, a blockhead; night and day he snores away; and you need not fear that the lady will fall in love with him; you may easily have him discarded whenever you please.
Gonna. (to Phædria.) Just think about it. Honestly, Phaedria, with the way you're freely living with her, and it is quite free, you don't have much to offer; and Thais definitely needs quite a bit. To make sure everything for your romance is covered without costing you, there's no one better suited for the job than the Captain. First off, he has plenty to give, and nobody is more generous. He's foolish, clueless, and a simpleton; he just snoozes away day and night; and you don't have to worry about the lady falling for him; you can easily get rid of him whenever you want.
Chæ. (to Phædria.) What shall we do?
Chæ. (to Phædria.) What should we do?
Gna. And this besides, which I deem to be of even greater importance,—not a single person entertains in better style or more bountifully.
Gonna. And besides this, which I think is even more important—not a single person hosts in a better way or more generously.
Chæ. It’s a wonder if this sort of man can not be made use of in some way or other.
Chae. It’s surprising if this type of guy can't be put to use in some way.
Phæd. I think so too.
Phæd. I agree.
Gna. You act properly. One thing I have still to beg of you,—that you’ll receive me into your fraternity; I’ve been rolling that stone112 for a considerable time past.
Gonna. You're doing well. There's just one more thing I need to ask of you—please let me join your group; I’ve been struggling with that challenge for quite a while now.
Phæd. We admit you.
Phæd. You're welcome here.
Chæ. And with all my heart.
Chæ. And with all my love.
Gna. Then I, in return for this, Phaedria, and you, Chaerea, make him over to you113 to be eaten and drunk to the dregs.
Gonna. So, in exchange for this, Phaedria, and you, Chaerea, I hand him over to you113 to be consumed completely.
Chæ. Agreed.
Chæ. Sounds good.
Phæd. He quite deserves it.114
Phaedrus. He totally deserves it.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
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Gna. (calling to Thraso.) Thraso, whenever you please, step this way.
Gonna. (calling to Thraso.) Thraso, feel free to come over whenever you want.
Thra. Prithee, how goes it?
Thra. Please, how's it going?
Gna. How? Why, these people didn’t know you; after I had discovered to them your qualities, and had praised you as your actions and your virtues deserved, I prevailed upon them.
Gonna. How? Why, these people didn’t know you; after I showed them your qualities and praised you as your actions and virtues deserved, I convinced them.
Thra. You have managed well; I give you my best thanks. Besides, I never was any where but what all were extremely fond of me.
Thra. You’ve done a great job; I really appreciate it. Also, I’ve always been liked wherever I went.
Gna. (to Phædria and Chærea.) Didn’t I tell you that he was a master of the Attic elegance?
Gonna. (to Phædria and Chærea.) Didn't I tell you he was a master of Attic style?
Phæd. He is no other than you mentioned. (Pointing to his Father’s house.) Walk this way. (To the Audience.) Fare you well, and grant us your applause.
Phaedrus. He is none other than the person you mentioned. (Pointing to his Dad’s house.) Come this way. (To the Audience.) Goodbye, and please give us your applause.
FOOTNOTES
1. From λαγχάνω, “to obtain by lot” or “heirship.”
1. From λαγχάνω, “to obtain by lot” or “heirship.”
2. From φαιδρὸς, “cheerful.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From φαιδρὸς, “happy.”
3. From χαίρων, “rejoicing.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From χαίρων, “celebrating.”
4. From ἀντὶ, “opposite to,” and φῶς, “light,” or φῆμι, “to speak.”
4. From instead, “against,” and light, “light,” or φῆμι, “to say.”
5. From χρεμίζω, “to neigh;” delighting in horses.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From χρεμίζω, “to neigh;” loving horses.
6. From θρασὸς, “boldness.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From θρασὸς, “bravery.”
7. From γναθὸς, “the jawbone;” a glutton.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From γναθὸς, “the jawbone;” a foodie.
8. From παρὰ, “by,” and μένω, “to remain.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From παρὰ, “by,” and μένω, “to remain.”
10. From δόναξ, “a reed.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From "domax," "a reed."
11. From σιμὸς, “flat-nosed.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From σιμὸς, “flat-nosed.”
12. From Syria, his country; or from συρίσκος, “a basket of figs.”
12. From Syria, his homeland; or from συρίσκος, “a basket of figs.”
13. From θεάομαι, “to look at.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From θεάομαι, “to gaze at.”
14. From πυθομένη, “asking questions.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From πυθομένη, “asking questions.”
16. From σώφρων, “prudent.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From σώφρων, “wise.”
17. From πᾶν, “all,” and φιλὸς, “a friend.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From πᾶν, “all,” and φιλὸς, “friend.”
18. The Title)—Colman has the following remark on this Play: “This seems to have been the most popular of all the Comedies of Terence. Suetonius and Donatus both inform us that it was acted with the greatest applause, and that the Poet received a larger price for it from the Ædiles than had ever been paid for any before, namely, 8000 sesterces, which is about equal to 200 crowns, which in those times was a considerable sum.”
18. The Title)—Colman has the following remark on this play: “This seems to have been the most popular of all the comedies by Terence. Suetonius and Donatus both tell us that it was performed to great acclaim, and that the poet received more money for it from the Aediles than had ever been paid for any play before, specifically, 8000 sesterces, which is roughly equivalent to 200 crowns, a significant amount back then.”
19. Acted twice)—This probably means “twice in one day.” As it is generally supposed that something is wanting after the figures II, this is presumed to be “die,” “in one day,” in confirmation of which Suetonius informs us that it really was performed twice in one day. Donatus says it was performed three times, by which he may probably mean, twice on one day and once on another.
19. Acted twice)—This likely means “twice in one day.” Since it's generally believed that something is missing after the numbers II, it’s thought to be “die,” “in one day.” Suetonius informs us that it actually was performed twice in one day. Donatus states it was performed three times, which might imply it was done twice on one day and once on another.
20. Being Consuls)—M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius Strabo were Consuls in the year from the building of the City 591, or B.C. 162.
20. Being Consuls)—M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius Strabo served as Consuls in the year 591 since the founding of the City, or BCE 162.
21. If there is one who thinks)—Ver. 4. He alludes to his old enemy, Luscus Lavinius, the Comic Poet, who is alluded to in the Prologue to the Andria, and has since continued his attacks upon him.
21. If there’s someone who thinks)—Ver. 4. He refers to his longtime rival, Luscus Lavinius, the Comic Poet, who is mentioned in the Prologue to the Andria and has continued to criticize him since then.
22. By translating literally)—Ver. 7. “Bene vertendo, at eosdem scribendo male.” This passage has greatly puzzled some of the Commentators. Bentley has, however, it appears, come to the most reasonable conclusion; who supposes that Terence means by “bene vertere,” a literal translation, word for word, from the Greek, by which a servile adherence to the idiom of that language was preserved to the neglect of the Latin idiom; in consequence of which the Plays of Luscus Lavinius were, as he remarks, “male scriptæ,” written in bad Latin.
22. By translating literally)—Ver. 7. “By translating well, but writing them poorly.” This passage has confused many commentators. Bentley, however, seems to have reached the most reasonable conclusion. He suggests that Terence refers to “translating well” as a literal, word-for-word translation from the Greek, which maintained a strict adherence to that language's idiom at the expense of Latin idiom; as a result, the Plays of Luscus Lavinius were, as he notes, “poorly written” in bad Latin.
23. Has published the Phasma)—Ver. 9. The “Φασμά,” or “Apparition,” was a play of Menander, so called, in which a young man looking through a hole in the wall between his father’s house and that next door, sees a young woman of marvelous beauty, and is struck with awe at the sight, as though by an apparition; in the Play, the girl’s mother is represented as having made this hole in the wall, and having decked it with garlands and branches that it may resemble a consecrated place; where she daily performs her devotions in company with her daughter, who has been privately brought up, and whose existence is unknown to the neighbors. On the youth coming by degrees to the knowledge that the object of his admiration is but a mortal, his passion becomes so violent that it will admit of no cure but marriage, with the celebration of which the Play concludes. Bentley gives us the above information from an ancient Scholiast, whose name is unknown, unless it is Donatus himself, which is doubtful. It would appear that Luscus Lavinius had lately made a translation of this Play, which, from its servile adherence to the language of the original, had been couched in ungrammatical language, and probably not approved of by the Audience. Donatus thinks that this is the meaning of the passage, and that, content with this slight reference to a well-known fact, the author passes it by in contemptuous silence.
23. Has published the Phasma)—Ver. 9. The “Φασμά,” or “Apparition,” was a play by Menander, in which a young man looking through a hole in the wall between his father's house and the neighboring one sees a young woman of incredible beauty and is filled with awe at the sight, as if by an apparition. In the play, the girl's mother is portrayed as having created this hole in the wall and decorated it with garlands and branches to make it look like a sacred place; where she daily performs her devotions alongside her daughter, who has been raised in secrecy, and whose existence is unknown to the neighbors. As the young man gradually realizes that the object of his admiration is just a mortal, his passion becomes so intense that it can only be cured by marriage, and the play ends with their wedding. Bentley shares this information from an ancient Scholiast, whose identity is unknown, unless it is indeed Donatus himself, which is uncertain. It seems that Luscus Lavinius had recently translated this play, but due to its strict adherence to the original language, it was written in ungrammatical terms and likely did not sit well with the audience. Donatus believes this is the meaning of the passage, and that, satisfied with this brief reference to a well-known fact, the author dismisses it with contemptuous silence.
24. And in the Thesaurus has described)—Ver. 10. Cook has the following appropriate remark upon this passage: “In the ‘Thesaurus,’ or ‘Treasure’ of Luscus Lavinius, a young fellow, having wasted his estate by his extravagance, sends a servant to search his father’s monument: but he had before sold the ground on which the monument was, to a covetous old man; to whom the servant applies to help him open the monument; in which they discover a hoard and a letter. The old fellow sees the treasure and keeps it; the young one goes to law with him, and the old man is represented as opening his cause first before the judge, which he begins with these words:—
24. And in the Thesaurus has described)—Ver. 10. Cook has the following relevant comment on this passage: “In the ‘Thesaurus,’ or ‘Treasure’ of Luscus Lavinius, a young man, having squandered his fortune through his lavish lifestyle, sends a servant to look for his father's tomb. However, he had previously sold the land where the tomb was located to a greedy old man, who the servant asks for help in opening the tomb. Inside, they discover a stash of treasure and a letter. The old man sees the treasure and keeps it; the young man takes him to court, and the old man is depicted as starting his case first before the judge, beginning with these words:—
‘Athenienses, bellum cum Rhodiensibus,
‘Athenians, war with the Rhodians,
Quod fuerit, quid ego prædicem?’
What has been, what should I predict?
‘Athenians, why should I relate the war with the Rhodians?’ And he goes on in a manner contrary to the rules of court; which Terence objects to, because the young man, who was the plaintiff, should open his cause first. Thus far Bentley, from the same Scholiast [as referred to in the last Note]. This Note is a clear explanation of the four verses to which it belongs. Hare concurs with Madame Dacier in her opinion ‘de Thesauro,’ that it is only a part of the Phasma of Menander, and not a distinct Play; but were I not determined by the more learned Bentley, the text itself would not permit me to be of their opinion; for the words ‘atque in Thesauro scripsit’ seem plainly to me to be a transition to another Play. The subject of the Thesaurus is related by Eugraphius, though not with all the circumstances mentioned in my Note from Bentley.” Colman also remarks here; “Menander and his contemporary Philemon, each of them wrote a Comedy under this title. We have in the above Note the story of Menander’s; and we know that of Philemon’s from the ‘Trinummus’ of Plautus, which was a Translation of it.”
‘Athenians, why should I talk about the war with the Rhodians?’ He goes on in a way that goes against court rules; Terence objects to this since the young man, who is the plaintiff, should present his case first. So far, Bentley, from the same Scholiast [as noted in the previous note]. This note clearly explains the four lines it refers to. Hare agrees with Madame Dacier in her view about ‘de Thesauro,’ that it is just a part of Menander's Phasma, not a separate play; but if I weren't swayed by the more knowledgeable Bentley, the text itself wouldn’t lead me to their conclusion; the phrase ‘atque in Thesauro scripsit’ seems to me to indicate a transition to another play. The subject of the Thesaurus is discussed by Eugraphius, although not with all the details mentioned in my note from Bentley.” Colman also comments here; “Menander and his contemporary Philemon each wrote a comedy with this title. We have the story of Menander’s in the note above, and we know Philemon’s story from Plautus’s ‘Trinummus,’ which was a translation of it.”
25. Opportunity of viewing it)—Ver. 21. Colman thinks that this means something “stronger than merely being present at the representation,” and he takes the meaning to be, that having obtained leave to peruse the MS., he furnished himself with objections against the piece, which he threw out when it came to be represented before the magistrates. Cooke thinks that the passage only means, “that he bustled and took pains to be near enough at the representation to see and hear plainly.” The truth seems to be that Lavinius managed to obtain admission at the rehearsal or trial of the merits of the piece before the magistrates, and that he then behaved himself in the unseemly manner mentioned in the text.
25. Opportunity of viewing it)—Ver. 21. Colman believes this means something “stronger than just being present at the performance,” and he interprets it to mean that after getting permission to read the manuscript, he prepared objections to the piece that he presented when it was performed for the magistrates. Cooke thinks the passage simply means, “that he made an effort to be close enough at the performance to see and hear clearly.” The reality seems to be that Lavinius managed to get in during the rehearsal or trial of the piece's merits before the magistrates, and he then behaved in the inappropriate manner mentioned in the text.
26. Produced the piece, but still had not deceived him)—Ver. 24. There is a pun here upon the resemblance in meaning of the words “verba dare” and “fabulam dare.” The first expression means to “deceive” or “impose upon;” the latter phrase has also the same meaning, but it may signify as well “to represent” or “produce a Play.” Thus the exclamation in its ambiguity may mean, “he has produced a Play, and has not succeeded in deceiving us,” or “he has deceived us, and yet has not deceived us.” This is the interpretation which Donatus puts upon the passage.
26. Produced the piece, but still had not fooled him)—Ver. 24. There’s a play on words here with the similar meanings of “verba dare” and “fabulam dare.” The first phrase means to “deceive” or “pull a fast one;” the latter also means the same but can imply “to represent” or “create a Play.” So, the exclamation, in its confusion, could mean, “he has created a Play, but hasn’t fooled us,” or “he has fooled us, and yet hasn’t fooled us.” This is the interpretation that Donatus gives for the passage.
27. Colax, an old Play of Plautus)—Ver. 25. Although Nonius Marcellus professes to quote from the Colax of Plautus (so called from the Greek Κολὰξ, “a flatterer” or “parasite”), some scholars have disbelieved in the existence of any Play of Plautus known by that name. Cooke says: “If Plautus had wrote a Play under the title of ‘Colax,’ I should think it very unlikely that it should have escaped Terence’s eye, considering how soon he flourished after Plautus, his being engaged in the same studies, and his having such opportunities to consult the libraries of the great; for though all learning was then confined to Manuscripts, Terence could have no difficulty in coming at the best copies. The character of the ‘Miles Gloriosus’ [Braggart Captain] here mentioned, I am inclined to think the same with that which is the hero of Plautus’s Comedy, now extant, and called ‘Miles Gloriosus,’ from which Terence could not take his Thraso. Pyrgopolinices and Thraso are both full of themselves, both boast of their valor and their intimacy with princes, and both fancy themselves beloved by all the women who see them; and they are both played off by their Parasites, but they differ in their manner and their speech: Plautus’s Pyrgopolinices is always in the clouds, and talking big, and of blood and wounds—Terence’s Thraso never says too little nor much, but is an easy ridiculous character, continually supplying the Audience with mirth without the wild extravagant bluster of Pyrgopolinices; Plautus and Terence both took their soldiers and Parasites from Menander, but gave them different dresses.” Upon this Note Colman remarks: “Though there is much good criticism in the above Note, it is certain that Plautus did not take his ‘Miles Gloriosus’ from the Colax of Menander, as he himself informs us it was translated from a Greek play called Ἀλάζων, ‘the Boaster,’ and the Parasite is but a trifling character in that play, never appearing after the first Scene.”
27. Colax, an old Play of Plautus)—Ver. 25. Although Nonius Marcellus claims to quote from Plautus's Colax (named after the Greek Κολὰξ, meaning “a flatterer” or “parasite”), some scholars doubt that a play by Plautus with that title ever existed. Cooke says: “If Plautus had written a play called ‘Colax,’ I would find it very strange that Terence didn’t notice it, especially since he was active shortly after Plautus, was involved in the same studies, and had access to the great libraries; even though all knowledge was at that time preserved in manuscripts, Terence could easily have obtained the best copies. I believe the character of the ‘Miles Gloriosus’ [Braggart Captain] mentioned here is the same as the hero of Plautus’s existing comedy called ‘Miles Gloriosus,’ from which Terence could not have derived his Thraso. Pyrgopolinices and Thraso are both self-important, bragging about their bravery and their close relationships with royalty, and both think they are adored by every woman who sees them; they are both manipulated by their parasites, but they differ in style and speech: Plautus’s Pyrgopolinices is always lofty, boastful, and talks about blood and wounds—Terence’s Thraso, on the other hand, is neither too quiet nor overly talkative, but is an amusingly simple character, providing the audience with laughs without the outrageous bluster of Pyrgopolinices; Plautus and Terence both drew their soldiers and parasites from Menander but dressed them differently.” In response to this note, Colman comments: “While there is a lot of solid criticism in the above note, it’s clear that Plautus did not take his ‘Miles Gloriosus’ from Menander’s Colax, as he himself tells us it was adapted from a Greek play called Ἀλάζων, ‘the Boaster,’ and the parasite is only a minor character in that play, never appearing after the first scene.”
28. Hurrying servants)—Ver. 35. On the “currentes servi,” see the Prologue to the Heautontimorumenos, l. 31. Ovid, in the Amores, B. i., El. 15, l. 17, 18, mentions a very similar combination of the characters of Menander’s Comedy: “So long as the deceitful slave, the harsh father, the roguish procuress, and the cozening courtesan shall endure, Menander will exist.”
28. Hurrying servants)—Ver. 35. For the “currentes servi,” see the Prologue to the Heautontimorumenos, l. 31. Ovid, in the Amores, B. i., El. 15, l. 17, 18, mentions a very similar mix of characters from Menander’s Comedy: “As long as the deceitful servant, the strict father, the cunning matchmaker, and the scheming courtesan are around, Menander will live on.”
29. What, then, shall I do?)—Ver. 46. Phædria, on being sent for by Thais, breaks out into those words as he enters, after having deliberated upon his parting with her. Both Horace and Persius have imitated this passage in their Satires.
29. What should I do now?)—Ver. 46. Phædria, upon being summoned by Thais, exclaims these words as he walks in, after thinking over his goodbye with her. Both Horace and Persius have drawn inspiration from this section in their Satires.
30. What! I to her?)—Ver. 65. Donatus remarks that this is an abrupt manner of speaking familiarly to persons in anger; and that the sentences are thus to be understood, “I, go to her? Her, who has received him! Who has excluded me!”—inasmuch as indignation loves to deal in Ellipsis and Aposiopesis.
30. What! Me go to her?)—Ver. 65. Donatus points out that this is a harsh way of speaking casually to people when you're angry; and that the sentences should be understood like this: “Me, go to her? The one who has accepted him! The one who has pushed me aside!”—since indignation tends to use omissions and unfinished thoughts.
31. The downfall of our fortunes)—Ver. 79. Colman observes, “There is an extreme elegance in this passage in the original; and the figurative expression is beautifully employed.” “Calamitas” was originally a word used in husbandry, which signified the destruction of growing corn; because, as Donatus says, “Comminuit calamum et segetem;”—“it strikes down the blades and standing corn.”
31. The downfall of our fortunes)—Ver. 79. Colman notes, “There’s a remarkable elegance in this passage in the original, and the figurative language is used beautifully.” “Calamitas” was originally a term from farming that referred to the destruction of growing crops; because, as Donatus says, “Comminuit calamum et segetem;”—“it strikes down the blades and standing crops.”
32. Approach this fire)—Ver. 85. “Ignem” is generally supposed to be used figuratively here, and to mean “the flame of love.” Eugraphius, however, would understand the expression literally, observing that courtesans usually had near their doors an altar sacred to Venus, on which they daily sacrificed.
32. Approach this fire)—Ver. 85. “Ignem” is usually taken to be figurative here, meaning “the flame of love.” However, Eugraphius interprets the phrase literally, noting that courtesans typically had an altar dedicated to Venus near their doors, where they made daily sacrifices.
33. Of course it’s because)—Ver. 89. It must be observed that these words, commencing with “Sane, quia vero,” in the original, are said by Phædria not in answer to the words of Thais immediately preceding, but to her previous question, “Cur non recta introibas?” “Why didn’t you come into the house at once?” and that they are spoken in bitter irony.
33. Of course it’s because)—Ver. 89. It’s important to note that these words, starting with “Sane, quia vero,” in the original, are spoken by Phædria not in response to Thais’s immediate words but to her earlier question, “Why didn’t you come into the house right away?” and that they are delivered with bitter irony.
34. From Sunium)—Ver. 115. This was a town situate near a lofty Promontory of that name in Attica. It was famous for a fair which was held there. “Sunium’s rocky brow” is mentioned by Byron in the song of the Greek Captive in the third Canto of Don Juan.
34. From Sunium)—Ver. 115. This was a town located near a high promontory of the same name in Attica. It was known for a fair that took place there. “Sunium’s rocky brow” is referred to by Byron in the song of the Greek Captive in the third Canto of Don Juan.
35. Set out for Caria)—Ver. 126. This was a country of Asia Minor upon the sea-coast, opposite to the island of Rhodes.
35. Set out for Caria)—Ver. 126. This was a region in Asia Minor along the coast, across from the island of Rhodes.
36. Servant-maid from Æthiopia)—Ver. 165. No doubt Æthiopian or negro slaves were much prized by the great, and those courtesans whose object it was to ape their manners.
36. Servant-maid from Ethiopia)—Ver. 165. Clearly, Ethiopian or Black slaves were highly valued by the elite, as well as by those courtesans who aimed to imitate their ways.
37. Ladies of quality)—Ver. 168. “Reginæ,” literally “queens,” here means women of rank and distinction.
37. Women of high status)—Ver. 168. “Reginæ,” literally “queens,” here refers to women of rank and distinction.
38. Paid twenty minæ)—Ver. 169. The “minæ” contained one hundred “drachmæ” of about 9¾d. each.
38. Paid twenty minæ)—Ver. 169. The “minæ” contained one hundred “drachmæ” of about 9¾d. each.
39. Ah wretched me!)—Ver. 197. Donatus remarks that the Poet judiciously reserves that part of the plot to be told here, which Thais did not relate to Phædria in the presence of Parmeno; whom the Poet keeps in ignorance as to the rank of the damsel, that he may with the more probability dare to assist Chærea in his attempt on her.
39. Oh, miserable me!)—Ver. 197. Donatus notes that the Poet wisely chooses to share that part of the story here, which Thais did not tell Phædria in front of Parmeno; the Poet keeps Parmeno unaware of the young woman's status, so he can more convincingly help Chærea in his pursuit of her.
40. From the dispositions of other women)—Ver. 198. Donatus observes that this is one of the peculiar points of excellence shown by Terence, introducing common characters in a new manner, without departing from custom or nature; since he draws a good Courtesan, and yet engages the attention of the Spectators and amuses them. Colman has the following Note here: “Under the name of Thais, Menander is supposed to have drawn the character of his own mistress, Glycerium, and it seems he introduced a Courtesan of the same name into several of his Comedies. One Comedy was entitled ‘Thais,’ from which St. Paul took the sentence in his Epistle to the Corinthians, ‘Evil communications corrupt good manners.’” Plutarch has preserved four lines of the Prologue to that Comedy, in which the Poet, in a kind of mock-heroic manner, invokes the Muse to teach him to depict the character of his heroine.
40. From the dispositions of other women)—Ver. 198. Donatus notes that this is one of the unique strengths of Terence, who presents familiar characters in a fresh way without straying from tradition or human nature; he portrays a good courtesan while still capturing the audience's attention and entertaining them. Colman adds the following note: “Under the name of Thais, Menander is believed to have based the character on his own mistress, Glycerium, and it seems he included a courtesan with the same name in several of his plays. One play was titled ‘Thais,’ from which St. Paul took the phrase in his letter to the Corinthians, ‘Evil communications corrupt good manners.’” Plutarch has preserved four lines from the prologue of that comedy, where the poet humorously calls upon the Muse to help him portray his heroine.
41. Not any one was there)—Ver. 226-7. Very nearly the same words as these occur in the Mostellaria of Plautus, l. 29, 30: “Than whom, hitherto, no one of the youth of all Attica has been considered more temperate or equally frugal.”
41. No one was there)—Ver. 226-7. Almost the exact same words can be found in Plautus's Mostellaria, lines 29-30: “No one among the youth of all Attica has been seen as more temperate or equally frugal than him.”
42. Nor submit to blows)—Ver. 244. It has been remarked in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus that the Parasites had, in consequence of their state of dependence, to endure blows and indignities from their fellow-guests. Their attempts to be “ridiculi” or “drolls” were made in order to give some small return to their entertainers. See especially the character of Gelasimus in the Stichus of Plautus, and the words of Ergasilus in the Captivi, l. 88, 90. Diderot, as quoted by Colman, observes: “This is the only Scene in Terence which I remember that can be charged with being superfluous. Thraso has made a present to Thais of a young girl. Gnatho is to convey her. Going along with her, he amuses himself with giving the Spectators a most agreeable eulogium on his profession. But was that the time for it? Let Gnatho pay due attention on the stage to the young woman whom he is charged with, and let him say what he will to himself, I consent to it.”
42. Nor submit to blows)—Ver. 244. It has been noted in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus that the Parasites, due to their dependent status, had to endure insults and mistreatment from their fellow guests. Their efforts to be “funny” or “witty” were made to provide some small return to their hosts. See especially the character of Gelasimus in the Stichus of Plautus, and the words of Ergasilus in the Captivi, l. 88, 90. Diderot, as quoted by Colman, remarks: “This is the only scene in Terence that I recall being unnecessary. Thraso has given a young girl as a gift to Thais. Gnatho is supposed to deliver her. As they go, he entertains himself by giving the audience a flattering review of his profession. But was that the right moment for this? Gnatho should focus on the young woman he’s responsible for and say whatever he wants to himself; I accept that.”
43. Fishmongers)—Ver. 257. “Cetarii;” strictly speaking, “dealers in large fish.”
43. Fishmongers)—Ver. 257. “Cetarii;” technically, “sellers of large fish.”
44. Cooks)—Ver. 257. The “coqui” were in the habit of standing in the market-place for hire by those who required their services. See the Pseudolus, the Aulularia, and the Mercator of Plautus, and the Notes to Bohn’s Translation. See also a remark on the knavish character of the sausage-makers in the Truculentus of Plautus, l. 110
44. Cooks)—Ver. 257. The “coqui” used to stand in the marketplace waiting to be hired by those who needed their services. Check out the Pseudolus, the Aulularia, and the Mercator by Plautus, as well as the notes in Bohn’s Translation. Also, refer to a comment on the dishonest nature of the sausage-makers in the Truculentus by Plautus, l. 110.
45. Become my follower)—Ver. 262. “Sectari.” In allusion to the manners of the ancient Philosophers, who were wont to be followed by a crowd of their disciples, who were styled “sectatores” and “sectæ.” Gnatho intends to found a new school of Parasites, who shall be called the “Gnathonics,” and who, by their artful adulation, shall contrive to be caressed instead of being maltreated. Artotrogus, the Parasite in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, seems, however, to have forestalled Gnatho as the founder of this new school.
45. Become my follower)—Ver. 262. “Sectari.” This refers to the customs of ancient philosophers, who were often followed by a group of their students known as “sectatores” and “sectæ.” Gnatho aims to create a new group of Parasites to be called the “Gnathonics,” who, through their clever flattery, will manage to be treated kindly instead of harshly. However, Artotrogus, the Parasite in Plautus’s Miles Gloriosus, seems to have gotten ahead of Gnatho as the founder of this new group.
46. I’m standing)—Ver. 271. “Quid agitur?” “Statur.” The same joke occurs in the Pseudolus of Plautus, l. 457. “Quid agitur? Statur hic ad hunc modum?” “What is going on?” or “What are you about?” “About standing here in this fashion;” assuming an attitude. Colman observes that there is much the same kind of conceit in the “Merry Wives of Windsor.”
46. I’m standing)—Ver. 271. “What’s happening?” “I’m just standing.” The same joke shows up in Plautus's Pseudolus, l. 457. “What’s happening? I’m just standing here like this?” “What is going on?” or “What are you doing?” “Just standing here this way;” striking a pose. Colman notes that a similar twist is found in the “Merry Wives of Windsor.”
Falstaff. “My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.”
Falstaff. “My good friends, I’m going to share what I’m up to.”
Pistol. “Two yards or more.”
“Two yards or more.”
Cooke has the following note: “‘Quid agitur’ is to be supposed to have a single meaning as spoken by Gnatho, but Parmeno archly renders it ambiguous by his answer. Our two first English translations, that by Bernard and that by Hoole, make nothing of it, nor indeed any other part of their author. Echard follows Madame Dacier, and perceives a joke; but he does not render ‘quid, agitur’ as the question ought to be translated. ‘Quid agitur’ sometimes means, ‘What are you doing?’ Sometimes, ‘How do you do?’ ‘How are you?’ or ‘How goes the world with you?’”
Cooke has the following note: “‘Quid agitur’ is meant to have a single meaning when spoken by Gnatho, but Parmeno cleverly makes it ambiguous with his response. Our first two English translations, by Bernard and Hoole, don’t capture it at all, nor do they do justice to any other part of the author’s work. Echard follows Madame Dacier and sees the joke, but he doesn’t translate ‘quid agitur’ as it should be translated. ‘Quid agitur’ can mean ‘What are you doing?’ Sometimes, it means ‘How do you do?’ ‘How are you?’ or ‘How is everything with you?’”
47. From the Piraeus)—Ver. 290. The Piraeus was the chief harbor of Athens, at the mouth of the Cephisus, about three miles from the City. It was joined to the town by two walls, one of which was built by Themistocles, and the other by Pericles. It was the duty of the Athenian youth to watch here in turn by way of precaution against surprise by pirates or the enemy.
47. From the Piraeus)—Ver. 290. The Piraeus was the main harbor of Athens, located at the mouth of the Cephisus River, about three miles from the city. It was connected to the town by two walls: one constructed by Themistocles and the other by Pericles. It was the responsibility of Athenian youth to take turns watching here as a precaution against surprise attacks from pirates or enemies.
48. In your little room)—Ver. 310. Though “cellulam” seems to be considered by some to mean “cupboard” or “larder,” it is more probable that it here signifies the little room which was appropriated to each slave in the family for his own use.
48. In your little room)—Ver. 310. While “cellulam” is thought by some to mean “cupboard” or “pantry,” it’s more likely that it refers here to the small space assigned to each slave in the family for their personal use.
49. Shoulders kept down and chests well girthed)—Ver. 314. Ovid, in the Art of Love, B. iii., l. 274, alludes to the “strophium” or “girth” here referred to: “For high shoulders, small pads are suitable; and let the girth encircle the bosom that is too prominent.” Becker thinks that the “strophium” was different from the “fascia” or “stomacher,” mentioned in the Remedy of Love, l. 338: “Does a swelling bosom cover all her breast, let no stomacher conceal it.” From Martial we learn that the “strophium” was made of leather.
49. Keep your shoulders down and your chest well supported)—Ver. 314. Ovid, in the Art of Love, B. iii., l. 274, refers to the “strophium” or “girth” mentioned here: “For high shoulders, small pads work best; and let the girth wrap around the chest that is too prominent.” Becker believes that the “strophium” was different from the “fascia” or “stomacher,” mentioned in the Remedy of Love, l. 338: “If a swelling bosom covers her entire chest, let no stomacher hide it.” From Martial, we learn that the “strophium” was made of leather.
50. Training for a boxer)—Ver. 315. “Pugilem.” This means “robust as a boxer,” or “athlete.” These persons were naturally considered as the types of robustness, being dieted for the purpose of increasing their flesh and muscle.
50. Training for a boxer)—Ver. 315. “Pugilem.” This means “strong like a boxer” or “athlete.” These individuals were seen as the embodiment of strength, with diets designed to enhance their body and muscle mass.
51. Complexion genuine)—Ver. 318. “Color verns.” The same expression is used by Ovid, in the Art of Love, B. iii., l. 164: “Et melior vero quæritur arte color:” “And by art a color is sought superior to the genuine one.”
51. Real complexion)—Ver. 318. “Vern color.” The same phrase is used by Ovid in the Art of Love, B. iii., l. 164: “And by art a color is sought superior to the real one.”
52. Full of juiciness)—Ver. 318. “Succi plenum.” A similar expression occurs in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 787, where Periplecomenus wishes inquiry to be made for a woman who is “siccam, at sucedam,” “sober, but full of juice:” i.e. replete with the plumpness and activity of youth.
52. Full of juiciness)—Ver. 318. “Succi plenum.” A similar expression appears in the Miles Gloriosus by Plautus, l. 787, where Periplecomenus asks for a woman who is “siccam, at sucedam,” “sober, but full of juice:” i.e. filled with the plumpness and energy of youth.
53. The very flower of youth)—Ver. 319. Ovid makes mention of the “flos” or “bloom” of youth, Art of Love, B. ii., l. 663: “And don’t you inquire what year she is now passing, nor under what Consulship she was born; a privilege which the rigid Censor possesses. And this, especially, if she has passed the bloom of youth, and her best years are fled, and she now pulls out the whitening hairs.”
53. The very flower of youth)—Ver. 319. Ovid refers to the “flos” or “bloom” of youth in the Art of Love, B. ii., l. 663: “And don’t ask what year she is currently in, or under which Consul she was born; that’s a privilege of the strict Censor. This is especially true if she has already left the bloom of youth behind, her best years are over, and she is now pulling out the graying hairs.”
54. Be my advocate)—Ver. 340. “Advocatus.” It must be remembered that this word did not among the Romans bear the same sense as the word “advocate” does with us. The “advocati” were the friends of a man who accompanied him when his cause was pleaded, and often performed the part of witnesses; those who assisted a person in a dispute or difficulty were also his “advocati,” and in this respect distantly resembled the “second” or “friend” of a party in the modern duel. In the Phormio, Hegio, Cratinus, and Crito are introduced as the “advocati” of Demipho. See also the Pænulus of Plautus, and the Notes to that Play in Bohn’s Translation.
54. Be my advocate)—Ver. 340. “Advocatus.” It's important to remember that this term didn’t have the same meaning for the Romans as “advocate” does for us today. The “advocati” were friends who accompanied a person during legal proceedings and often acted as witnesses; those who helped someone in a dispute or challenge were also called “advocati,” and in this way, they were somewhat similar to the “second” or “friend” in a modern duel. In the Phormio, Hegio, Cratinus, and Crito are referred to as the “advocati” of Demipho. Also see the Pænulus of Plautus and the notes on that play in Bohn’s translation.
55. An hour elapsed)—Ver. 341. “Hora” is here used to signify the long time, that, in his impatience, it appeared to him to be.
55. An hour passed)—Ver. 341. “Hora” is used here to indicate the lengthy duration that, in his impatience, felt much longer to him.
56. It’s all over with you,—you’ve said your last)—Ver. 347. “Ilicet” and “conclamatnm est,” are words of mournful import, which were used with regard to the funeral rites of the Romans. “Ilicet,” “you may begone,” was said aloud when the funeral was concluded. “Conclamare,” implied the ceremony of calling upon the dead person by name, before light was act to the funeral pile; on no answer being given, he was concluded to be really dead, and the pile was set fire to amid the cries of those present: “conclamatum est” would consequently signify that all hope has gone.
56. It’s all over for you—you've said your final words)—Ver. 347. “Ilicet” and “conclamatum est” are phrases that carry a somber meaning, associated with the funeral customs of the Romans. “Ilicet,” meaning “you may go,” was announced when the funeral was finished. “Conclamare” referred to the ritual of calling out the deceased’s name before lighting the funeral pyre; if there was no response, it was accepted that the person was truly dead, and the pyre was ignited amid the lamentations of those gathered: “conclamatum est” would thus signify that all hope is lost.
57. Thais the Courtesan)—Ver. 352. Cooke remarks here, somewhat hypercritically as it would seem: “Thais is not called ‘meretrix’ here opprobriously, but to distinguish her from other ladies of the same name, who were not of the same profession.”
57. Thais the Courtesan)—Ver. 352. Cooke points out here, perhaps a bit critically, that “Thais isn’t called ‘meretrix’ in a derogatory way but to differentiate her from other women with the same name who didn’t share her profession.”
58. A Eunuch)—Ver. 356. Eunuchs formed part of the establishment of wealthy persons, who, in imitation of the Eastern nobles, confided the charge of their wives, daughters, or mistresses to them. Though Thais would have no such necessity for his services, her wish to imitate the “reginæ,” or “great ladies,” would make him a not unacceptable present. See the Addresses of Ovid to the Eunuch Bagoüs in the Amours, B. ii., El. 2, 3.
58. A Eunuch)—Ver. 356. Eunuchs were part of the staff of wealthy individuals, who, following the example of Eastern nobles, entrusted the care of their wives, daughters, or mistresses to them. Although Thais wouldn't really need his services, her desire to mimic the “reginæ,” or “great ladies,” would make him a fairly acceptable gift. See the Addresses of Ovid to the Eunuch Bagoüs in the Amours, B. ii., El. 2, 3.
59. as she is reported to be)—Ver. 361. Donatus remarks this as an instance of the art of Terence, in preserving the probability of Chærea’s being received for the Eunuch. He shows hereby that he is so entirely a stranger to the family that he does not even know the person of Thais. It is also added that she has not been long in the neighborhood, and he has been on duty at the Piraeus. The meaning of his regret is, that, not knowing Thais, he will not have an opportunity of seeing the girl.
59. as she is reported to be)—Ver. 361. Donatus points out this as an example of Terence's skill in keeping the story believable regarding Chærea’s chance of passing for a eunuch. He illustrates that he is so unfamiliar with the family that he doesn't even recognize Thais. It's also mentioned that she hasn't been in the area for long, and he has been working at the Piraeus. His regret indicates that, not knowing Thais, he misses the chance to meet her.
60. Have to pay the penalty)—Ver. 381. “In me cadetur faba,” literally, “the bean will be struck” or “laid about me;” meaning, “I shall have to smart for it.” There is considerable doubt what is the origin of this expression, and this doubt existed as early as the time of Donatus. He says that it was a proverb either taken from the threshing of beans with a flail by the countrymen; or else from the circumstance of the cooks who have dressed the beans, but have not moistened them sufficiently, being sure to have them thrown at their heads, as though for the purpose of softening them. Neither of these solutions seems so probable as that suggested by Madame Dacier, that dried beans were inserted in the thongs of the “scuticæ,” or “whips,” with which the slaves were beaten. According to others the knots in the whips were only called “fabæ,” from their resemblance to beans.
60. Have to pay the penalty)—Ver. 381. “In me cadetur faba,” literally means “the bean will be struck” or “thrown at me;” which implies, “I will have to pay for it.” There’s a lot of uncertainty about where this expression comes from, and this uncertainty was noted even in Donatus’s time. He suggests it might be a saying related to farmers threshing beans with a flail, or from cooks who didn’t properly moisten the beans being hit with them on their heads to soften them. However, neither explanation seems as likely as the one proposed by Madame Dacier, which is that dried beans were placed in the thongs of the “scuticæ,” or “whips,” used to beat slaves. Others believe the knots in the whips were called “fabæ” because they resembled beans.
61. Is it disgraceful)—Ver. 382. Donatus remarks that here Terence obliquely defends the subject of the Play.
61. Is it shameful)—Ver. 382. Donatus notes that here Terence subtly defends the theme of the Play.
62. The most mighty King)—Ver. 397. It has been suggested that Darius III. is here alluded to, who was a contemporary of Menander. As however Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, is mentioned in this Play, there is no necessity to go out of the way to make Terence guilty of an anachronism. Madame Dacier suggests that Seleucus, king of part of Asia Minor, is meant; and as Thraso is called “a stranger” or “foreigner” toward the end of the Play, he probably was intended to be represented as a native of Asia and a subject of Seleucus. One of the Seleuci was also favored with the services of Pyrgopolinices, the “Braggart Captain” of Plantus, in the Miles Gloriosus. See l. 75 in that Play: “For King Seleucus entreated me with most earnest suit that I would raise and enlist recruits for him.”
62. The most powerful King)—Ver. 397. It's been suggested that this refers to Darius III, who was a contemporary of Menander. However, since Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, is mentioned in this play, there's no need to suggest that Terence made a historical error. Madame Dacier proposes that Seleucus, king of part of Asia Minor, is the intended reference; and as Thraso is called “a stranger” or “foreigner” towards the end of the play, he was likely meant to be depicted as a native of Asia and a subject of Seleucus. One of the Seleucids also had Pyrgopolinices, the “Braggart Captain” from Plautus's Miles Gloriosus, in his service. See l. 75 in that play: “For King Seleucus urgently asked me to recruit soldiers for him.”
63. You’ve just hit it)—Ver. 401. Colman here remarks, quoting the following passage from Shakspeare’s “Love’s Labor Lost,” “That that Poet was familiarly acquainted with this Comedy is evident from the passage, ‘Holofernes says, Novi hominem tanquam te. His humor is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behavior vain, ridiculous, and Thrasonical.’” We may remark that the previous words of Gnatho, though spoken with reference to the King, contain a reproach against the Captain’s boastfulness, though his vanity will not let him perceive it.
63. You’ve just hit it) — Ver. 401. Colman remarks here, quoting a passage from Shakespeare’s “Love’s Labor Lost,” “It’s clear that the Poet was well acquainted with this Comedy, as shown in the line, ‘Holofernes says, Novi hominem tanquam te. His humor is lofty, his discourse commanding, his tongue sharp, his gaze ambitious, his walk dignified, and his overall behavior vain, ridiculous, and boastful.’” We can note that Gnatho's earlier remarks, while directed at the King, actually reflect criticism of the Captain’s arrogance, even though his vanity prevents him from recognizing it.
64. In his eye)—Ver. 401. “In oculis” is generally supposed to mean “as dearly in his eyes.” As, however, the Satraps of the East were called “the king’s eyes,” those who suppose that Darius is alluded to, might with some ground consider the passage as meaning that the king ranked him in the number of his nobles. See the Pænulus of Plautus, l. 693, and the Note in Bohn’s Translation.
64. In his eye)—Ver. 401. “In oculis” is usually thought to mean “as dearly in his eyes.” However, since the Satraps of the East were referred to as “the king's eyes,” those who believe Darius is being referenced might reasonably interpret this as meaning that the king considered him among his nobles. See the Pænulus of Plautus, l. 693, and the Note in Bohn’s Translation.
65. You understand)—Ver. 405. He says this at the very moment when he is at a loss what to say next; the Parasite obligingly steps in to help him out with the difficulty.
65. You understand)—Ver. 405. He says this right when he doesn’t know what to say next; the Parasite conveniently steps in to assist him with the problem.
66. Indeed, of none)—Ver. 410. “Immo, nullorum arbitror, si tecum vivit.” This expression which is used “aside,” has two meanings, neither of which is complimentary to the Captain. It may mean, “he has no society if he associates with you,” making the Captain equivalent to nobody; or it may signify, “if he associates with you he’ll be sure to drive all his other acquaintances away.”
66. Indeed, of none)—Ver. 410. “Actually, I think he means no one if he lives with you.” This phrase used “aside” has two meanings, neither of which is flattering to the Captain. It could mean, “he has no friends if he hangs out with you,” making the Captain equivalent to nobody; or it might mean, “if he spends time with you, he'll definitely push all his other friends away.”
67. Over the Indian elephants)—Ver. 413. Here he shows his lofty position to perfection; he dares to take down the pride of one who commanded even the royal elephants. The Braggart Captain of Plautus comes into collision with the elephants themselves: l. 26. Artotrogus says to him, “In what a fashion it was you broke the fore-leg of even an elephant in India with your fist!”
67. Over the Indian elephants)—Ver. 413. Here he demonstrates his high status perfectly; he has the audacity to humble someone who even commanded the royal elephants. The Braggart Captain from Plautus comes into conflict with the elephants themselves: l. 26. Artotrogus says to him, “How is it that you managed to break the front leg of even an elephant in India with just your fist?”
68. Looking out for game?)—Ver. 426. “Pulmentum,” more strictly speaking, “A nice bit.” Patrick has the following Note on this passage: “‘Lepus tute es, et pulmentum quæris?’ A proverbial expression in use at that time: the proper meaning of it, stripped of its figure, is, ‘You are little more than a woman yourself, and do you want a mistress?’” We learn from Donatus and Vopiscus, that Livius Andronicus had used this proverb in his Plays before Terence. Commentators who enter into a minute explanation of it offer many conjectures rather curious than solid, and of a nature not fit to be mentioned here. Donatus seems to think that allusion is made to a story prevalent among the ancient naturalists that the hare was in the habit of changing its sex.
68. Looking for some action?)—Ver. 426. “Pulmentum,” more precisely, “A nice bit.” Patrick has the following note on this passage: “'Lepus tute es, et pulmentum quæris?' A common saying at that time: when you break it down, it means, 'You're barely more than a woman yourself, and you want a mistress?'” We learn from Donatus and Vopiscus that Livius Andronicus used this saying in his plays before Terence. Commentators who delve into a detailed explanation of it offer many guesses that are more interesting than substantial, and not suitable to mention here. Donatus seems to think there's a reference to a story popular among ancient naturalists about the hare supposedly being able to change its sex.
69. If, indeed, she loved me)—Ver. 446. Colman has the following Note upon this passage: “I am at a loss to determine whether it was in order to show the absurdity of the Captain or from inadvertence in the Poet, that Terence here makes Thraso and Gnatho speak in contradiction to the idea of Thais’s wonderful veneration for Thraso, with which they opened the Scene.”
69. If she really loved me)—Ver. 446. Colman includes this note on the passage: “I’m unsure whether Terence intended to highlight the absurdity of the Captain or if it was simply an oversight, as he has Thraso and Gnatho contradict the notion of Thais's great admiration for Thraso, which was established at the beginning of the scene.”
70. In exercises)—Ver. 477. Reference will be found made to the “palæstræ,” or “places of exercise,” in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
70. In exercises)—Ver. 477. Reference will be made to the "gymnasiums" or "places to work out" in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus.
71. If occasion served)—Ver. 479. The Aposiopesis in this line is very aptly introduced, on account of the presence of the female; but it admirably illustrates the abominable turpitude of the speaker, and perhaps in a somewhat more decent manner than that in which Plautus attributes a similar tendency to his Braggart Captain, l. 1111.
71. If opportunity arises)—Ver. 479. The pause in this line is very effectively placed, considering the presence of the woman; however, it perfectly highlights the speaker's disgusting character, perhaps in a slightly more tasteful way than how Plautus depicts a similar trait in his Braggart Captain, l. 1111.
72. Out of the very flames)—Ver. 491. This was a proverb expressive of the lowest degree of meanness and infamy. When they burned the bodies of the dead, it was the custom of the ancients to throw meat and various articles of food upon the funeral pile, and it was considered the greatest possible affront to tell a person that he was capable of snatching these things out of the flames.
72. Out of the very flames)—Ver. 491. This was a saying that represented the lowest level of disgrace and shame. When they burned the bodies of the dead, it was a tradition for the ancients to throw meat and different types of food onto the funeral pyre, and it was seen as the ultimate insult to suggest that someone would be desperate enough to grab these things from the flames.
73. If Chremes should happen to come)—Ver. 513. This is the first allusion to the arrangement which ultimately causes the quarrel between Thais and the Captain.
73. If Chremes happens to show up)—Ver. 513. This is the first reference to the situation that eventually leads to the conflict between Thais and the Captain.
74. Had been offering a sacrifice)—Ver. 513. It was the custom to sacrifice before entering on affairs of importance. Thus, too, Jupiter, in the Amphitryon of Plautus, l. 938, speaks of offering sacrifice on his safe return.
74. Had been offering a sacrifice)—Ver. 513. It was customary to make a sacrifice before starting significant undertakings. Similarly, Jupiter, in Plautus's Amphitryon, l. 938, mentions offering a sacrifice for his safe return.
75. Our rings were given)—Ver. 541. It was the custom of parties who agreed to join in a “symbola,” or “club” or “picnic” entertainment, to give their rings as pledges to the “rex convivii,” or “getter up the feast.” Stakes were also deposited on making bets at races. See Ovid’s Art of Love, B. i., l. 168.
75. Our rings were given)—Ver. 541. It was common for groups that agreed to participate in a “symbola,” or “club” or “picnic” event, to give their rings as promises to the “rex convivii,” or “organizer of the feast.” Stakes were also placed when making bets on races. See Ovid’s Art of Love, B. i., l. 168.
76. To meet my death)—Ver. 550. There is a passage in the Othello of Shakspeare extremely similar to this:
76. To meet my death)—Ver. 550. There is a section in Shakespeare's Othello that is very similar to this:
——“If I were now to die,
——“If I were to die right now,
I were now to be most happy; for, I fear,
I would be very happy now; because, I’m afraid,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
I'm completely content.
That not another comfort, like to this,
That there is no other comfort like this,
Succeeds in unknown fate.”
"Success in the unknown."
77. In the inner apartments)—Ver. 579. The “Gynecæa,” or women’s apartments, among the Greeks, always occupied the interior part of the house, which was most distant from the street, and there they were kept in great seclusion.
77. In the inner apartments)—Ver. 579. The "Gynecæa," or women's quarters, among the Greeks, always occupied the innermost part of the house, the area farthest from the street, where they were kept in strict privacy.
78. A few novices of girls)—Ver. 582. These “noviciæ” were young slaves recently bought, and intended to be trained to the calling of a Courtesan.
78. A few young girls)—Ver. 582. These “noviciæ” were young slaves who had just been purchased and were meant to be trained for the profession of a Courtesan.
79. At a certain painting)—Ver. 584. See the story of Jupiter and Danaë, the daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos, in the Metamorphoses of Ovid, B. iv., l. 610. Pictures of Venus and Adonis, and of Jupiter and Ganymede, are mentioned in the Menæchmi of Plautus; l. 144, and paintings on the walls are also mentioned in the Mostellaria of Plantus, l. 821, where Tranio tries to impose upon Theuropides by pretending to point out a picture of a crow between two vultures.
79. At a certain painting)—Ver. 584. Check out the story of Jupiter and Danaë, the daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos, in the Metamorphoses of Ovid, B. iv., l. 610. There are references to pictures of Venus and Adonis, and of Jupiter and Ganymede, in the Menæchmi of Plautus; l. 144, and paintings on the walls are also noted in the Mostellaria of Plautus, l. 821, where Tranio tries to trick Theuropides by pretending to point out a picture of a crow between two vultures.
80. How Jove)—Ver. 584. Donatus remarks here that this was “a very proper piece of furniture for the house of a Courtesan, giving an example of loose and mercenary love, calculated to excite wanton thoughts, and at the same time hinting to the young lover that he must make his way to the bosom of his mistress, like Jupiter to Danaë, in a shower of gold. Oh the avarice of harlots!”
80. How Jove)—Ver. 584. Donatus points out that this was “a very fitting piece of furniture for a Courtesan's home, illustrating loose and selfish love, designed to spark lascivious thoughts, while also suggesting to the young lover that he must reach his mistress's embrace, just like Jupiter did with Danaë, in a shower of gold. Oh, the greed of prostitutes!”
81. A poor creature of a mortal)—Ver. 591. “Homuncio.” He uses this word the better to contrast his abject nature as a poor mortal with the majesty of Jupiter. St. Augustin refers to this passage. The preceding line is said by Donatus to be a parody on a passage by Ennius.
81. A poor creature of a mortal)—Ver. 591. “Homuncio.” He uses this word to emphasize his lowly state as a mere mortal compared to the greatness of Jupiter. St. Augustine mentions this passage. The previous line is said by Donatus to mock a line by Ennius.
82. Take this fan)—Ver. 595. As to the fans of the ancients, see the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 252, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation. See also the Amours of Ovid, B. iii., El. 2, l. 38.
82. Take this fan)—Ver. 595. As for the fans from ancient times, check out Plautus's Trinummus, line 252, and the note on that section in Bohn’s Translation. Also, look at Ovid's Amours, Book III, Elegy 2, line 38.
83. Chattered aloud)—Ver. 600. This line bears a strong resemblance to two lines found in Anstey’s new Bath Guide:
83. Chatted out loud)—Ver. 600. This line closely matches two lines in Anstey’s new Bath Guide:
“And how the young ladies all set up their clacks,
“And how the young ladies all set up their chatter,
All the while an old woman was rubbing their backs.”
All the while, an old woman was massaging their backs.
84. I slily looked askance)—Ver. 601. This way of looking aside, “limis,” is mentioned in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, where Milphidippa tells Acroteleutium to look at the Captain sideways, “Aspicito limis,” l. 1217; also in the Bacchides, l. 1131. Those familiar with the works of Hogarth will readily call to mind the picture of Bedlam in the Rake’s Progress, whore the young woman is looking askance through her fan at the madman in his cell.
84. I slyly glanced aside)—Ver. 601. This way of looking askance, “limis,” is mentioned in the Miles Gloriosus by Plautus, where Milphidippa tells Acroteleutium to look at the Captain sideways, “Aspicito limis,” l. 1217; also in the Bacchides, l. 1131. Those familiar with Hogarth's works will easily recall the image of Bedlam in the Rake’s Progress, where the young woman is looking sideways through her fan at the madman in his cell.
85. Through the fan)—Ver. 602. This shows that the fan was probably one made of thin boards, and not of feathers.
85. Through the fan)—Ver. 602. This suggests that the fan was likely made of thin boards instead of feathers.
86. So short-lived)—Ver. 605. Colman has the following Note here: “Short indeed, considering the number of incidents, which, according to Chærea’s relation, are crowded into it. All the time allowed for this adventure is the short space between the departure of Thais and Thraso and the entrance of Chærea; so that all this variety of business of sleeping, bathing, ravishing, &c., is dispatched during the two soliloquies of Antipho and Chærea, and the short Scene between Chremes and Pythias. The truth is, that a very close adherence to the unities often drives the Poet into as great absurdities as the perfect violation of them.”
86. So short-lived)—Ver. 605. Colman has the following note here: “It's really short, considering the number of events packed into it, which, according to Chærea’s account, are crammed in. The entire time for this adventure is just the brief period between the departure of Thais and Thraso and the entrance of Chærea; so all this variety of activities—sleeping, bathing, seducing, etc.—is completed during the two soliloquies of Antipho and Chærea, and the short scene between Chremes and Pythias. The truth is, that sticking too closely to the unities can lead the poet into just as many absurdities as completely disregarding them.”
87. Took off her golden jewels)—Ver. 627. This was probably because it was contrary to the laws of Athens for a Courtesan to appear with gold or jewels in the street. Madame Dacier suggests another reason, in which there is some force, although it is ridiculed by Cooke. Thais may have supposed that the Captain, when irritated, might not have scrupled to take them away from her. Indeed, nothing would be more probable, than that he would be ready to take them by way of security for the return of the slave, whom he had thus, to no purpose, presented to her. In reference to the preceding line, we may remark that it was not customary among the Greeks for females of good character to appear at table with strangers.
87. Took off her golden jewels)—Ver. 627. This was likely because it was against the laws of Athens for a courtesan to wear gold or jewels in public. Madame Dacier proposes another reason, which has some validity, although Cooke dismisses it. Thais might have thought that the Captain, when upset, wouldn't hesitate to take them from her. In fact, it would be quite likely that he would consider taking them as a form of security for the return of the slave he had presented to her, which ended up being pointless. Regarding the previous line, it's worth noting that it wasn't customary for respectable women in Greece to dine with strangers.
88. While I was going)—Ver. 629. Donatus remarks that here the Poet artfully finds a reason to bring Phædria back again; as he at first with equal art sent him out of the way, to give probability to those incidents necessary to happen in his absence.
88. While I was going)—Ver. 629. Donatus notes that here the Poet skillfully creates a reason to bring Phædria back, just as he cleverly sent him away earlier to make the events that needed to happen in his absence more believable.
89. At a distance)—Ver. 640. “Extremâ lineâ.” There have been many suggestions offered for the origin of this figurative expression. Some suggest that it alludes to the last or lowest stage of the supposed ladder of love; others that it refers to the first or elementary line traced by the student, when beginning to learn the art of painting. It is however more generally thought to be a metaphor taken from the chariot-races in the Circus, where, in going round the turning-place, he who was nearest was said “currere in primâ lineâ;” the next, “in secundâ;” and so on to the last, who took the widest range, and was said to run “in extremâ lineâ.”
89. At a distance)—Ver. 640. “Extremâ lineâ.” Many theories have been proposed about the origin of this figurative expression. Some believe it refers to the final or lowest step on the imagined ladder of love; others think it points to the first basic line drawn by a student starting to learn painting. However, it is more commonly understood as a metaphor from chariot races in the Circus, where, when rounding the turn, the racer closest to the inside was said to be “currere in primâ lineâ;” the next one “in secundâ;” and so on, with the last racer taking the widest path being said to run “in extremâ lineâ.”
90. In party-colored clothes)—Ver. 683. It was the custom to dress Eunuchs in party-colored clothes of bright hue. Most probably it was from them that the “motley” descended to the fools and buffoons of the Middle Ages.
90. In bright, colorful clothing)—Ver. 683. It was common to dress eunuchs in bright, multicolored outfits. Likely, this is where the “motley” look originated for the jesters and clowns of the Middle Ages.
91. With a speckled complexion)—Ver. 689. “Colore stellionino;” probably having spots or freckles on his face like a “stellio” or “lizard.”
91. With a speckled complexion)—Ver. 689. “Colore stellionino;” probably having spots or freckles on his face like a “stellio” or “lizard.”
92. Have done a service to her)—Ver. 722. Though some would have “illi” here to refer to the damsel, and others again to Phædria, it is pretty clear that Madame Dacier is right in suggesting that Thais is the person meant.
92. Have done a service to her)—Ver. 722. While some think “illi” refers to the girl and others believe it points to Phædria, it's fairly clear that Madame Dacier is correct in saying that Thais is the one intended.
93. Casket with the tokens)—Ver. 752. It was the custom with the ancients when they exposed their children, to leave with them some pledge or token of value, that they might afterward be recognized by means of them. The catastrophes of the Curculio, the Rudens, and other Plays of Plautus, are brought about by taking advantage of this circumstance. The reasons for using these tokens will be stated in a future Note.
93. Casket with the tokens)—Ver. 752. In ancient times, it was customary for parents who abandoned their children to leave behind a valuable item or token so that the children could be identified later. The misfortunes in the Curculio, the Rudens, and other plays by Plautus revolve around this practice. The reasons for using these tokens will be explained in a future note.
95. And his maniple)—Ver. 775. We learn from the Fasti of Ovid, B. iii., l. 117-8, that in early times the Roman armies carried bundles or wisps of hay upon poles by way of standards. “A long pole used to bear the elevated wisps, from which circumstance the manipular soldier derives his name.” It appears from this passage, and from other authors, that to every troop of one hundred men a “manipulus” or wisp of hay (so called from “manum implere,” to “fill the hand,” as being “a handful”), was assigned as a standard, and hence in time the company itself obtained the name of “manipulus,” and the soldier, a member of it, was called “manipularis.” The “centurio,” or “leader of a hundred,” was the commanding officer of the “manipulus.”
95. And his maniple)—Ver. 775. We learn from Ovid's Fasti, B. iii., l. 117-8, that in ancient times, Roman armies used to carry bundles or clumps of hay on poles as standards. “A long pole was used to hold up the raised bundles, which is how the manipular soldier got his name.” This passage, along with other sources, indicates that each troop of one hundred men was assigned a “manipulus” or clump of hay (named from “manum implere,” meaning “to fill the hand,” as it represented “a handful”), and over time, the troop itself came to be known as “manipulus,” and the soldier who was a part of it was called “manipularis.” The “centurio,” or “leader of a hundred,” was the commanding officer of the “manipulus.”
96. With a dish-clout)—Ver. 776. “Peniculo.” This word meant a sponge fastened to a stick, or the tail of a fox or an ox, which was used as dusters or dish-clouts are at the present day for cleaning tables, dishes, or even shoes. See the Menæchmi of Plautus, ver. 77 and 391.
96. With a dishcloth)—Ver. 776. “Peniculo.” This word referred to a sponge attached to a stick or the tail of a fox or an ox, used as dusters or dishcloths are today for cleaning tables, dishes, or even shoes. See the Menæchmi of Plautus, ver. 77 and 391.
97. Be behind the second rank)—Ver. 780. “Post principia.” The Captain, with that discretion which is the better part of valor, chooses the safest place in his army. The “principes” originally fought in the van, fronting the enemy, and behind them were the “hastati” and the “triarii.” In later times the “hastati” faced the enemy, and the “principes” were placed in the middle, between them and the “triarii;” but though no longer occupying the front place, they still retained the name. Thraso, then, places himself behind the middle line.
97. Be behind the second rank)—Ver. 780. “Post principia.” The Captain, using the common sense that is the essence of bravery, picks the safest position in his army. The “principes” used to fight at the front, facing the enemy, with the “hastati” and “triarii” behind them. Later on, the “hastati” took the front line, and the “principes” were positioned in the middle, between them and the “triarii;” but even though they no longer were at the front, they kept their name. Thraso, then, places himself behind the middle line.
98. Pyrrhus used to proceed)—Ver. 782. He attempts to defend his cowardice by the example of Pyrrhus, the powerful antagonist of the Romans, and one of the greatest generals of antiquity. He might have more correctly cited the example of Xerxes, who, according to Justin, did occupy that position in his army.
98. Pyrrhus used to proceed)—Ver. 782. He tries to justify his cowardice by referencing Pyrrhus, the formidable opponent of the Romans and one of the greatest generals of ancient times. He could have more accurately mentioned the example of Xerxes, who, according to Justin, held that position in his army.
99. I could very much)—Ver. 785. Although Vollbehr gives these words to Gnatho, yet, judging from the context, and the words “ex occulto,” and remembering that Thais and Chremes are up at the window, there is the greatest probability that these are really the words of Thais addressed aside to Chremes.
99. I could very much)—Ver. 785. Although Vollbehr attributes these words to Gnatho, it seems more likely, based on the context, the phrase “ex occulto,” and considering that Thais and Chremes are at the window, that these words are actually spoken by Thais as a side comment to Chremes.
100. You gallows-bird)—Ver. 797. “Furcifer;” literally, “bearer of the furca.”
100. You gallows-bird)—Ver. 797. “Furcifer;” literally, “bearer of the fork.”
101. As befits gallant soldiers)—Ver. 814. Beaumont and Fletcher not improbably had this scene in view in their picture of the mob regiment in Philaster. The ragged regiment which Shakspeare places under the command of Falstaff was not very unlike it, nor that which owned the valiant Bombastes Furioso as its Captain.
101. As befits brave soldiers)—Ver. 814. Beaumont and Fletcher probably had this scene in mind when they created the mob regiment in Philaster. The scruffy regiment that Shakespeare puts under Falstaff’s command was quite similar, as was the one led by the bold Bombastes Furioso.
102. At Antipho’s)—Ver. 839. Madame Dacier here observes that Chærea assigns very natural reasons for not having changed his dress; in which the art of Terence is evident, since the sequel of the Play makes it absolutely necessary that Chærea should appear again before Thais in the habit which he wore while in the house.
102. At Antipho’s)—Ver. 839. Madame Dacier points out that Chærea gives very believable reasons for not changing his clothes; this showcases Terence's skill, as the continuation of the play makes it crucial for Chærea to appear again in front of Thais in the outfit he wore while at the house.
103. Pick daintily about)—Ver. 935. He seems here to reprehend the same practice against which Ovid warns his fair readers, in his Art of Love, B. iii. l. 75. He says, “Do not first take food at home,” when about to go to an entertainment. Westerhovius seems to think that “ligurio” means, not to “pick daintily,” but “to be fond of good eating;” and refers to the Bacchides of Plautus as portraying courtesans of the “ligurient” kind, and finds another specimen in Bacchis in the Heautontimorumenos.
103. Pick delicately around)—Ver. 935. Here, he seems to criticize the same behavior that Ovid advises his female readers to avoid in his Art of Love, B. iii. l. 75. He says, “Don’t eat at home first” when you're about to go to a party. Westerhovius believes that “ligurio” doesn’t mean “pick delicately” but rather “to enjoy good food;” he references the Bacchides of Plautus, which depicts courtesans of the “ligurient” type, and finds another example in Bacchis from the Heautontimorumenos.
104. This advantage)—Ver. 970. Donatus here observes that the Poet introduces Laches, as he has Parmeno just before, in a state of perfect tranquillity, that their sudden change of feeling may be the more diverting to the Audience.
104. This advantage)—Ver. 970. Donatus notes here that the Poet brings in Laches, just as he did with Parmeno earlier, in a state of complete calm, so that their sudden shift in emotions can be even more entertaining for the audience.
105. For some occasion)—Ver. 999. We learn from Donatus that Menander was more explicit concerning the resentment of Laches against Thais, on account of her having corrupted Phædria.
105. For some occasion)—Ver. 999. We find out from Donatus that Menander was clearer about Laches' anger towards Thais for having seduced Phædria.
106. As I knew)—Ver. 1003. She enjoyed it the more, knowing that the old man had nothing to fear, as he had just heard the fiction which she had imparted to Parmeno. Donatus observes that the terror of Laches accounts for his sudden consent to the union of Chærea with Pamphila; for though he could not settle the matter any other way with credit, he was glad to find that his son had made an unequal match rather than endangered his life. Colman, however, observes with considerable justice: “I think Chærea apologizes still better for this arrangement in the Scene with Thais at the opening of this Act, where he says that he is confident of obtaining his father’s consent, provided Pamphila proves to be a citizen; and, indeed, the match between them is rather a reparation of an injury done to her than a degradation of himself.”
106. As I knew)—Ver. 1003. She enjoyed it even more, knowing that the old man had nothing to worry about since he had just heard the story she told Parmeno. Donatus points out that Laches' fear explains his quick agreement to let Chærea marry Pamphila; although he couldn't resolve the situation in a respectable way, he was relieved that his son was making a mismatched union instead of risking his life. Colman, however, makes a fair point: “I think Chærea actually gives a better excuse for this arrangement in the scene with Thais at the beginning of this act, where he mentions that he is confident his father will agree, as long as Pamphila turns out to be a citizen; and really, their match is more about making up for an injury done to her than it is about degrading himself.”
107. In return for that present of yours)—Ver. 1022. By the present she means Chærea in the disguise of the Eunuch.
107. In return for that gift of yours)—Ver. 1022. By the gift, she means Chærea disguised as the Eunuch.
108. Through betrayal of myself)—Ver. 1023. Which betrays itself by its own squeaking.
108. By betraying myself)—Ver. 1023. Which reveals itself through its own squeaking.
109. Hercules served Omphale)—Ver. 1026. He alludes to the story of Omphale, Queen of Lydia, and Hercules. Being violently in love with her, the hero laid aside his club and boar’s skin, and in the habit of a woman plied the spindle and distaff with her maids. See a curious story of Omphale, Hercules, and Faunus, in the Fasti of Ovid, B. ii. l. 305. As to the reappearance of Thraso here, Colman has the following remarks: “Thraso, says Donatus, is brought back again in order to be admitted to some share in the good graces of Thais, that he may not be made unhappy at the end of the Play; but surely it is an essential part of the poetical justice of Comedy to expose coxcombs to ridicule and to punish them, though without any shocking severity, for their follies.”
109. Hercules served Omphale)—Ver. 1026. He refers to the story of Omphale, the Queen of Lydia, and Hercules. Deeply in love with her, the hero put aside his club and boar skin and took on the role of a woman, working the spindle and distaff along with her maids. For an interesting tale involving Omphale, Hercules, and Faunus, see Ovid's Fasti, Book II, line 305. Regarding Thraso's return here, Colman offers the following comments: “Thraso, according to Donatus, is brought back so he can enjoy some favor from Thais, ensuring he isn't left unhappy at the end of the Play; however, it’s important for the comedic justice of the genre to expose foolish characters to ridicule and to lightly punish them for their mistakes.”
110. With a slipper)—Ver. 1027. He doubtless alludes to the treatment of Hercules by Omphale; and, according to Lucian, there was a story that Omphale used to beat him with her slipper or sandal. On that article of dress, see the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 252.
110. With a slipper)—Ver. 1027. He likely refers to the way Omphale treated Hercules; according to Lucian, there was a story that Omphale would hit him with her slipper or sandal. For more on that item of clothing, see the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 252.
111. To the patronage of my father)—Ver. 1038. It was the custom at Athens for strangers, such as Thais was, to put themselves under the protection (in clientelam) of some wealthy citizen, who, as their patron, was bound to protect them against injury. An exactly parallel case to the present is found in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 799, where the wealthy Periplecomenus says, “Habeo, eccillam, meam clientam, meretricem adolescentulam.” “Why, look, I have one, a dependent of mine, a courtesan, a very young woman.”
111. To the patronage of my father)—Ver. 1038. In Athens, it was common for strangers like Thais to seek the protection of a wealthy citizen, who would act as their patron and ensure their safety. A similar situation can be found in Plautus's Miles Gloriosus, l. 799, where the wealthy Periplecomenus says, “Habeo, eccillam, meam clientam, meretricem adolescentulam.” “Look, I have one, a dependent of mine, a courtesan, a very young woman.”
112. Been rolling that stone)—Ver. 1084. Donatus thinks that he alludes to the story of Sisyphus, who, in the Infernal Regions, was condemned eternally to roll a stone up a hill, which, on arriving at the summit, immediately fell to the bottom.
112. Been rolling that stone)—Ver. 1084. Donatus believes this refers to the tale of Sisyphus, who, in the Underworld, was sentenced to forever push a stone up a hill, only for it to roll back down every time it reached the top.
113. Make him over to you)—Ver. 1086. “Vobis propino.” The word “propino” was properly applied to the act of tasting a cup of wine, and then handing it to another; he means that he has had his taste of the Captain, and is now ready to hand him over to them.
113. Make him over to you)—Ver. 1086. “Vobis propino.” The term “propino” originally referred to the act of tasting a cup of wine and then passing it to someone else; it means he has had his taste of the Captain and is now prepared to hand him over to them.
114. He quite deserves it)—Ver. 1087. Cooke has the following appropriate remark: “I can not think that this Play, excellent as it is in almost all other respects, concludes consistently with the manners of gentlemen; there is a meanness in Phædria and Chærea consenting to take Thraso into their society, with a view of fleecing him, which the Poet should have avoided.”
114. He definitely deserves it)—Ver. 1087. Cooke makes a fitting point: “I can’t believe that this play, as excellent as it is in almost every other way, ends in a manner consistent with how gentlemen would act; there’s a lack of integrity in Phædria and Chærea agreeing to invite Thraso into their circle just to take advantage of him, something the poet should have steered clear of.”
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132
HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS;
THE SELF-ABUSER.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Chremes,1 an old gentleman, living in the country. Chremes,1 an elderly gentleman living in the countryside. Menedemus,2 an old gentleman, his neighbor. Menedemus, an elderly gentleman, his neighbor. Clinia,3 son of Menedemus. Clinia, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Menedemus. Clitipho,4 son of Chremes. Clitipho, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Chremes. Dromo,5 son of Clinia. Dromo, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Clinia. Syrus,6 servant of Clitipho. Syrus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Clitipho's servant. |
Sostrata,7 wife of Chremes. Sostrata, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chremes' wife. The Nurse of Antiphila. The Nurse of Antiphila. Phrygia,10 maid-servant to Bacchis. Phrygia, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ maid to Bacchis. |
Scene.—In the country, near Athens; before the houses of Chremes and Menedemus.
Scene.—In the countryside, close to Athens; in front of the homes of Chremes and Menedemus.
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THE SUBJECT.
Chremes commands his wife, when pregnant, if she is delivered of a girl immediately to kill the child. Having given birth to a girl, Sostrata delivers her to an old woman named Philtera to be exposed. Instead of doing this, Philtera calls her Antiphila, and brings her up as her own. Clinia, the son of Menedemus, falls in love with her, and treats her as though his wife. Menedemus, on learning this, is very angry, and by his harsh language drives away his son from home. Taking this to heart, and in order to punish himself for his ill-timed severity, Menedemus, though now an aged man, fatigues himself by laboring at agricultural pursuits from morning till night. At the period when the Play commences, Clinia has just returned to Attica, but not daring to go to his father’s house, is entertained by Clitipho, the son of Chremes, who is the neighbor of Menedemus. Clitipho then sends for Antiphila, whose supposed mother has recently died, to come and meet her lover. On the same day, Chremes learns from Menedemus how anxious he is for his son’s return; and on hearing from his son of the arrival of Clinia, he defers informing Menedemus of it until the next day. Syrus, the servant who has been sent to fetch Antiphila, also brings with him Bacchis, an extravagant Courtesan, the mistress of Clitipho. To conceal the truth from Chremes, they represent to him that Bacchis is the mistress of Clinia, and that Antiphila is one of her maids. Next morning Chremes informs Menedemus of his son’s arrival, and of the extravagant conduct of his mistress, but begs that he will conceal from Clinia his knowledge of this fact. Bacchis requiring ten minæ, Syrus devises a plan for obtaining the money from Chremes, while the latter is encouraging him to think of a project against Menedemus. Syrus tells him a story, that the mother of Antiphila had borrowed a thousand drachmæ of Bacchis, and being dead, the girl is left in her hands as a pledge for the money. While these things are going on, Sostrata discovers in Antiphila her own daughter. In order to obtain the money which Bacchis persists in demanding, Syrus suggests to Chremes that it should be represented to Menedemus that Bacchis is the mistress of Clitipho, and that he should be requested to conceal her in his house for a few days; it is also arranged that Clinia shall pretend to his father to be in love with Antiphila, and to beg her as his wife. He is then to ask for money, as though for the wedding, which is to be handed over to Bacchis. Chremes does not at first approve of the plan suggested by Syrus; but he pays down the money for which he has been informed his daughter is a pledge in the hands of Bacchis. This, with his knowledge, is given to Clitipho, who, as Syrus says, is to convey it to Bacchis, who is now in the house of Menedemus, to make the latter more readily believe that she is his mistress. Shortly after this, the plot is discovered by Chremes, who threatens to punish Clitipho and Syrus. The Play concludes with Chremes giving his consent to the marriage of Clinia with Antiphila, and pardoning Clitipho, who promises to abandon the Courtesan, and marry. Unlike the other Plays of Terence and Plautus, the Plot of this Play extends over two days.
Chremes instructs his pregnant wife that if she gives birth to a girl, she should immediately kill the child. After giving birth to a girl, Sostrata hands her over to an old woman named Philtera to be abandoned. Instead of doing that, Philtera names her Antiphila and raises her as her own. Clinia, the son of Menedemus, falls in love with her and treats her like his wife. When Menedemus finds out, he gets very angry and drives his son away from home with his harsh words. Feeling guilty and wanting to punish himself for his thoughtless severity, Menedemus, now an old man, works tirelessly in the fields from morning until night. At the beginning of the play, Clinia has just returned to Attica, but not daring to go home, he is being entertained by Clitipho, Chremes’ son and Menedemus’ neighbor. Clitipho sends for Antiphila, whose supposed mother has recently died, to meet her lover. That same day, Chremes learns from Menedemus that he is eager for his son’s return; after hearing from his son about Clinia's arrival, he decides to wait until the next day to inform Menedemus of it. Syrus, the servant sent to fetch Antiphila, also brings along Bacchis, a lavish courtesan who is Clitipho's mistress. To hide the truth from Chremes, they tell him that Bacchis is Clinia's mistress and that Antiphila is one of her maids. The next morning, Chremes tells Menedemus about his son's return and mentions Bacchis’ extravagant behavior, but asks him to keep this from Clinia. Bacchis demands ten minæ, and Syrus comes up with a scheme to get the money from Chremes while Chremes encourages him to think of a plan against Menedemus. Syrus tells a story that Antiphila’s mother borrowed a thousand drachmæ from Bacchis, and since she's dead, the girl is left as collateral for the debt. Meanwhile, Sostrata realizes that Antiphila is her own daughter. To get the money Bacchis is insisting on, Syrus suggests to Chremes that it should be made to seem that Bacchis is Clitipho's mistress, and they need to ask Menedemus to hide her in his house for a few days. It is also planned for Clinia to pretend to be in love with Antiphila and ask his father for her hand in marriage, along with money for the wedding, which will be given to Bacchis. Chremes doesn’t initially like the plan proposed by Syrus, but he pays the money he has been told is being held as a pledge by Bacchis. This, with his knowledge, is given to Clitipho, who, as Syrus said, is to take it to Bacchis, who is now at Menedemus’ house, to make Menedemus more inclined to believe she is his mistress. Shortly after this, Chremes discovers the plot and threatens to punish Clitipho and Syrus. The play ends with Chremes agreeing to Clinia's marriage to Antiphila and forgiving Clitipho, who swears to leave the courtesan and marry. Unlike other plays by Terence and Plautus, this plot unfolds over two days.
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THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
It is from the Greek of Menander. Performed at the Megalensian Games; Lucius Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius Valerius Flaccus being Curule Ædiles. Ambivius Turpio performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music. The first time it was performed to the music of treble and bass flutes; the second time, of two treble flutes. It was acted three times; Marcus Juventius and Titus Sempronius being Consuls.11
It is from the Greek of Menander. It was performed at the Megalensian Games, with Lucius Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius Valerius Flaccus serving as Curule Ædiles. Ambivius Turpio was the performer. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, created the music. The first performance featured treble and bass flutes, while the second used two treble flutes. It was acted three times, with Marcus Juventius and Titus Sempronius as Consuls. 11
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135
HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS;
THE SELF-TORTURER.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
A severe father compels his son Clinia, in love with Antiphila, to go abroad to the wars; and repenting of what has been done, torments himself in mind. Afterward, when he has returned, unknown to his father, he is entertained at the house of Clitipho. The latter is in love with Bacchis, a Courtesan. When Clinia sends for his much-loved Antiphila, Bacchis comes, as though his mistress, and Antiphila, wearing the garb of her servant; this is done in order that Clitipho may conceal it from his father. He, through the stratagems of Syrus, gets ten minæ from the old man for the Courtesan. Antiphila is discovered to be the sister of Clitipho. Clinia receives her, and Clitipho, another woman, for his wife.
A strict set father forces his son Clinia, who is in love with Antiphila, to go off to war; and feeling regret about what he has done, he tortures himself mentally. Later, when Clinia returns, he does so without his father's knowledge and stays at Clitipho's house. Clitipho is infatuated with Bacchis, a courtesan. When Clinia asks for his beloved Antiphila, Bacchis comes pretending to be his mistress, while Antiphila dresses as her servant; this is to keep Clitipho's father in the dark. With the help of Syrus's clever schemes, Clitipho receives ten minæ from his father for the courtesan. It is revealed that Antiphila is Clitipho's sister. Clinia ends up with her, and Clitipho takes another woman as his wife.
THE PROLOGUE.
Lest it should be a matter of surprise to any one of you, why the Poet has assigned to an old man12 a part that belongs to the young, that I will first explain to you;13 and then, the reason 136 for my coming I will disclose. An entire Play from an entire Greek one,14 the Heautontimorumenos, I am to-day about to represent, which from a two-fold plot15 has been made but one. I have shown that it is new, and what it is: next I would mention who it was that wrote it, and whose in Greek it is, if I did not think that the greater part of you are aware. Now, for what reason I have learned this part, in a few words I will explain. The Poet intended me to be a Pleader,16 not the Speaker of a Prologue; your decision he asks, and has appointed me the advocate; if this advocate can avail as much by his oral powers as he has excelled in inventing happily, who composed this speech which I am about to recite. For as to malevolent rumors spreading abroad that he has mixed together many Greek Plays while writing a few Latin ones, he does not deny that this is the case, and that he does not repent of so doing; and he affirms that he will do so again. He has the example of good Poets; after which example he thinks it is allowable for him to do what 137 they have done. Then, as to a malevolent old Poet17 saying that he has suddenly applied himself to dramatic pursuits, relying on the genius of his friends,18 and not his own natural abilities; on that your judgment, your opinion, will prevail. Wherefore I do entreat you all, that the suggestions of our antagonists may not avail more than those of our favorers. Do you be favorable; grant the means of prospering to those who afford you the means of being spectators of new Plays; those, I mean, without faults: that he may not suppose this said in his behalf who lately made the public give way to a slave as he ran along in the street;19 why should he take a madman’s part? About his faults he will say more when he brings out some other new ones, unless he puts an end to his caviling. Attend with favorable feelings; grant me the opportunity that I may be allowed to act a quiet Play20 in 138 silence; that the servant everlastingly running about, the angry old man, the gluttonous parasite, the impudent sharper, and the greedy procurer, may not have always to be performed by me with the utmost expense of voice, and the greatest exertion. For my sake come to the conclusion that this request is fair, that so some portion of my labor may be abridged. For nowadays, those who write new Plays do not spare an aged man. If there is any piece requiring exertion, they come running to me; but if it is a light one, it is taken to another Company. In the present one the style is pure. Do you make proof, what, in each character,21 my ability can effect. If I have never greedily set a high price upon my skill, and have come to the conclusion that this is my greatest gain, as far as possible to be subservient to your convenience, establish in me a precedent, that the young may be anxious rather to please you than themselves.
So that no one is surprised as to why the Poet has given an old man12 a role meant for the young, let me explain that first;13 and then, I’ll share the reason for my coming. Today, I will perform a whole Play based on a complete Greek one,14 the Heautontimorumenos, which has been adapted into a single plot from a two-fold one.15 I’ve shown that it’s new and what it’s about; next, I’d mention who wrote it, and whose in Greek it is, if I didn’t think that most of you already know. Now, I’ll briefly explain why I’ve learned this part. The Poet wanted me to be a Pleader,16 not the person delivering the Prologue; he asks for your decision, and has chosen me as the advocate. If this advocate can do as well with his spoken words as he has succeeded in cleverly crafting the speech I’m about to recite. Regarding the malicious rumors circulating that he has combined many Greek plays while writing a few Latin ones, he doesn’t deny it, nor does he regret doing so; he asserts that he will do it again. He follows the example of great Poets; based on that precedent, he believes it’s acceptable for him to do what they have done. Then, regarding a spiteful old Poet17 claiming that he has suddenly turned to dramatic work, relying on the talent of his friends,18 and not his own abilities; it’s up to your judgment and opinion to decide. So I urge all of you that the arguments of our opponents should not outweigh those of our supporters. Please be kind; give a chance to those who provide you with new Plays; those, I mean, without faults: so that he does not think this is said on his behalf, the one who recently led the public to give way to a slave running in the street;19 why should he take on the role of a madman? He will talk more about his faults when he presents more new ones, unless he stops his complaining. Listen kindly; grant me the opportunity to perform a quiet Play20 in silence; so that I don’t always have to play the endlessly running servant, the angry old man, the greedy parasite, the shameless con artist, and the greedy procurer at the peak of my voice and effort. For my sake, conclude that this request is fair, so some part of my workload can be reduced. Nowadays, those who write new Plays don’t spare an old man. If there’s any piece that requires effort, they come rushing to me; but if it’s an easy one, it goes to another Company. In this one, the style is clean. You can see what my abilities can achieve in each character,21 If I’ve never greedily put a high price on my skill, and have decided that this is my greatest benefit, as much as possible to serve your convenience, set a precedent for me, so that the young may be more eager to please you than themselves.
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Chremes, and Menedemus with a spade in his hand, who falls to digging.
Enter Chremes, and Menedemus with a shovel in his hand, who begins to dig.
Chrem. Although this acquaintanceship between us is of very recent date, from the time in fact of your purchasing an estate here in the neighborhood, yet either your good qualities, or our being neighbors (which I take to be a sort of friendship), induces me to inform you, frankly and familiarly, that you appear to me to labor beyond your years, and beyond what your affairs require. For, in the name of Gods and men, what would you have? What can be your aim? You are, as I conjecture, sixty years of age, or more. No man in these parts has a better or a more valuable estate, no one more servants; and yet you discharge their duties just as diligently as if there were none at all. However early in the morning I go out, and however late in the evening I return 139 home, I see you either digging, or plowing, or doing something, in fact, in the fields. You take respite not an instant, and are quite regardless of yourself. I am very sure that this is not done for your amusement. But really I am vexed how little work is done here.22 If you were to employ the time you spend in laboring yourself, in keeping your servants at work, you would profit much more.
Chrem. Even though our acquaintance is quite new, starting from when you bought a property nearby, I feel compelled to honestly and openly tell you that you seem to be working much harder than you need to and beyond your age. Seriously, what do you want? What are you aiming for? You seem to be around sixty or older. Nobody in this area has a better estate or more servants than you do, yet you manage their tasks as if there were none at all. No matter how early I leave in the morning or how late I come back in the evening, I always see you either digging, plowing, or doing something else out in the fields. You hardly take a break and seem to ignore your own well-being. I'm certain you're not doing this for fun. Honestly, it frustrates me how little gets accomplished here. If you were to use the time you spend working yourself to oversee your servants instead, you'd achieve much more.
Men. Have you so much leisure, Chremes, from your own affairs, that you can attend to those of others—those which don’t concern you?
Guys. Chremes, do you have so much free time from your own business that you can worry about other people's problems that don’t involve you?
Chrem. I am a man,23 and nothing that concerns a man do I deem a matter of indifference to me. Suppose that I wish 140 either to advise you in this matter, or to be informed myself: if what you do is right, that I may do the same; if it is not, then that I may dissuade you.
Chrem. I’m a man, 23 and I don’t consider any issue that involves a man to be unimportant. Let’s say I want to either give you advice on this matter or learn about it myself: if what you’re doing is right, I want to do the same; if it’s not, then I want to convince you not to do it.
Men. It’s requisite for me to do so; do you as it is necessary for you to do.
Men. I need to do this; you should do what you need to do.
Chrem. Is it requisite for any person to torment himself?
Chrem. Is it necessary for anyone to torture themselves?
Men. It is for me.
Guys. It's for me.
Chrem. If you have any affliction, I could wish it otherwise. But prithee, what sorrow is this of yours? How have you deserved so ill of yourself?
Chrem. If you're dealing with any pain, I wish things were different. But please, what’s this sadness you’re feeling? How did you end up hurting yourself so badly?
Men. Alas! alas! (He begins to weep.)
Guys. Oh no! Oh no! (He starts to cry.)
Chrem. Do not weep, but make me acquainted with it, whatever it is. Do not be reserved; fear nothing; trust me, I tell you. Either by consolation, or by counsel, or by any means, I will aid you.
Chrem. Don’t cry, just tell me what it is, whatever it may be. Don’t hold back; don’t be afraid; trust me, I’m serious. Whether through comfort, advice, or any way I can help, I’m here for you.
Men. Do you wish to know this matter?
Men. Do you want to know about this?
Chrem. Yes, and for the reason I mentioned to you.
Chrem. Yes, and for the reason I told you about.
Men. I will tell you.
Guys. I will tell you.
Chrem. But still, in the mean time, lay down that rake; don’t fatigue yourself.
Chrem. But in the meantime, put down that rake; don’t tire yourself out.
Men. By no means.
Guys. No way.
Chrem. What can be your object? (Tries to take the rake from him.)
Chrem. What do you want? (Tries to take the rake from him.)
Men. Do leave me alone, that I may give myself no respite from my labor.
Guys. Please leave me alone, so I can continue working without distraction.
Chrem. I will not allow it, I tell you. (Taking the rake from him.)
Chrem. I won’t let that happen, I’m telling you. (Taking the rake from him.)
Men. Ah! that’s not fair.
Men. Ah! that's not cool.
Chrem. (poising the rake.) Whew! such a heavy one as this, pray!
Chrem. (holding the rake up.) Wow! This one is really heavy, I must say!
Men. Such are my deserts.
Men. That's what I deserve.
Chrem. Now speak. (Laying down the rake.)
Chrem. Go ahead and talk. (Setting down the rake.)
Men. I have an only son,—a young man,—alas! why did I say—“I have?”—rather I should say, “I had” one, Chremes:—whether I have him now, or not, is uncertain.
Men. I have just one son—he's a young man—oh, why did I say “I have?”—I should say, “I had” one, Chremes:—whether I have him now or not is uncertain.
Chrem. Why so?
Chrem. Why's that?
Men. You shall know:—There is a poor old woman here, a stranger from Corinth:—her daughter, a young woman, he fell in love with, insomuch that he almost regarded her as his wife; all this took place unknown to me. When I 141 discovered the matter, I began to reprove him, not with gentleness, nor in the way suited to the love-sick mind of a youth, but with violence, and after the usual method of fathers. I was daily reproaching him,—“Look you, do you expect to be allowed any longer to act thus, myself, your father, being alive; to be keeping a mistress pretty much as though your wife? You are mistaken, Clinia, and you don’t know me, if you fancy that. I am willing that you should be called my son, just as long as you do what becomes you; but if you do not do so, I shall find out how it becomes me to act toward you. This arises from nothing, in fact, but too much idleness. At your time of life, I did not devote my time to dalliance, but, in consequence of my poverty, departed hence for Asia, and there acquired in arms both riches and military glory.” At length the matter came to this,—the youth, from hearing the same things so often, and with such severity, was overcome. He supposed that I, through age and affection, had more judgment and foresight for him than himself. He went off to Asia, Chremes, to serve under the king.
Guys. You should know that there's a poor old woman here, a stranger from Corinth, whose daughter—a young woman—he fell in love with. He was so taken with her that he almost treated her like his wife, all without my knowledge. When I found out about it, I started to scold him, not gently or in a way that would appeal to a lovesick young man, but with harshness and in the typical manner of a father. I constantly reprimanded him, saying, “Do you really think you can keep acting this way while I, your father, am alive? You can't have a mistress as though she were your wife. You're mistaken, Clinia, and you don’t know me if you think that. I’m okay with you being called my son as long as you behave properly; but if you don’t, I’ll figure out how to deal with you. This behavior comes purely from having too much free time. At your age, I didn’t waste my time on frivolous things; I left for Asia because of my poverty, and there I gained wealth and military glory through my efforts.” Eventually, the situation came to this—a young man, hearing the same things over and over with such seriousness, finally gave in. He believed that because of my age and concern for him, I had more wisdom and foresight than he did. So, he went off to Asia, Chremes, to serve under the king.
Chrem. What is it you say?
Chrem. What are you saying?
Men. He departed without my knowledge—and has been gone these three months.
Men. He left without me knowing—and has been gone for three months.
Chrem. Both are to be blamed—although I still think this step shows an ingenuous and enterprising disposition.
Chrem. Both are at fault—though I still believe this action shows a genuine and ambitious nature.
Men. When I learned this from those who were in the secret, I returned home sad, and with feelings almost overwhelmed and distracted through grief. I sit down; my servants run to me; they take off my shoes:24 then some make all haste to spread the couches,25 and to prepare a repast; each according to his ability did zealously what he could, in order to alleviate my sorrow. When I observed this, I began to reflect thus:—“What! are so many persons anxious for my sake alone, to pleasure myself only? Are so 142 many female servants to provide me with dress?26 Shall I alone keep up such an expensive establishment, while my only son, who ought equally, or even more so, to enjoy these things—inasmuch as his age is better suited for the enjoyment of them—him, poor youth, have I driven away from home by my severity! Were I to do this, really I should deem myself deserving of any calamity. But so long as he leads this life of penury, banished from his country through my severity, I will revenge his wrongs upon myself, toiling, making money, saving, and laying up for him.” At once I set about it; I left nothing in the house, neither movables27 nor clothing; every thing I scraped together. Slaves, male and female, except those who could easily pay for their keep by working in the country, all of them I set up to auction and sold. I at once put up a bill to sell my house.28 I collected somewhere about fifteen talents, and purchased this farm; here I fatigue myself. I have come to this conclusion, Chremes, that I do my son a less injury, while I am unhappy; and that it is not right for me to enjoy any pleasure here, until such time as he returns home safe to share it with me.
Men. When I found out this from those in the know, I went home feeling sad, almost overwhelmed and distracted by my grief. I sat down; my servants rushed to me; they took off my shoes:24 then some hurried to spread the couches,25 and to prepare a meal; each one did their best to help ease my sorrow. Watching this, I started to think: “What! Are so many people worried about my well-being alone, just to make me happy? Are so many female servants here to help me get dressed?26 Should I maintain such an expensive lifestyle, while my only son, who should experience these things even more at his age—poor youth—I’ve sent away from home because of my harshness! If I do this, I’d truly deserve any misfortune. But as long as he lives in poverty, exiled from his home because of my severity, I will take my revenge on myself, working hard, making money, saving, and preparing for him.” I immediately got to work; I left nothing in the house, neither furniture27 nor clothes; I gathered everything together. I put all the slaves, male and female, up for auction, except those who could easily earn their keep by working in the fields. I even put up a notice to sell my house.28 I collected about fifteen talents and bought this farm; this is where I toil now. I've come to the conclusion, Chremes, that I do my son less harm while I’m unhappy; and that it’s not right for me to enjoy any pleasure here until he returns home safely to share it with me.
Chrem. I believe you to be of an affectionate disposition 143 toward your children,29 and him to be an obedient son, if one were to manage him rightly or prudently. But neither did you understand him sufficiently well, nor he you—a thing that happens where persons don’t live on terms of frankness together. You never showed him how highly you valued him, nor did he ever dare put that confidence in you which is due to a father. Had this been done, these troubles would never have befallen you.
Chrem. I think you really care about your kids, 143 and he's a good son, as long as you manage him wisely. But neither of you understands the other well enough—this often happens when people don’t communicate openly. You never showed him how much you appreciated him, and he never felt comfortable enough to show you the respect he should as a father. If things had been different, you wouldn’t be dealing with these troubles now.
Men. Such is the fact, I confess; the greatest fault is on my side.
Men. That's the truth, I admit; the biggest mistake is mine.
Chrem. But still, Menedemus, I hope for the best, and I trust that he’ll be here safe before long.
Chrem. But still, Menedemus, I’m hoping for the best, and I believe he’ll be here safely before too long.
Men. Oh that the Gods would grant it!
Guys. Oh, that the gods would allow it!
Chrem. They will do so. Now, if it is convenient to you—the festival of Bacchus30 is being kept here to-day—I wish you to give me your company.
Chrem. They will do so. Now, if it works for you—the Bacchus festival is being held here today—I’d like you to join me.
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Men. I can not.
Men. I can't.
Chrem. Why not? Do, pray, spare yourself a little while. Your absent son would wish you do so.
Chrem. Why not? Please, take a moment for yourself. Your missing son would want that for you.
Men. It is not right that I, who have driven him hence to endure hardships, should now shun them myself.
Men. It's not fair that I, who pushed him away to face difficulties, should now avoid them myself.
Chrem. Is such your determination?
Chrem. Is that your decision?
Men. It is.
Guys. It is.
Chrem. Then kindly fare you well.
Chrem. Then take care.
Men. And you the same.
Guys. And you too.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
Scene II.
Chremes, alone.
Chremes, by himself.
Chrem. (to himself.) He has forced tears from me, and I do pity him. But as the day is far gone, I must remind Phania, this neighbor of mine, to come to dinner. I’ll go see whether he is at home. (Goes to Phania’s door, makes the inquiry, and returns.) There was no occasion for me to remind him: they tell me he has been some time already at my house; it’s I myself am making my guests wait. I’ll go in-doors immediately. But what means the noise at the door of my house? I wonder who’s coming out! I’ll step aside here.
Chrem. (to himself.) He’s made me shed tears, and I do feel for him. But since the day is almost over, I need to remind Phania, my neighbor, to come for dinner. I’ll check to see if he’s home. (Goes to Phania's door, makes the inquiry, and returns.) There was no need for me to remind him: I’ve been told he’s already been at my house for a while; it’s actually me keeping my guests waiting. I’ll head inside right away. But what’s that noise at the door of my house? I wonder who’s coming out! I’ll step aside here.
He stands aside.
He's standing aside.
Scene III.
Enter Clitipho, from the house of Chremes.
Enter Clitipho, from the house of Chremes.
Clit. (at the door, to Clinia within.) There is nothing, Clinia, for you to fear as yet: they have not been long by any means: and I am sure that she will be with you presently along with the messenger. Do at once dismiss these causeless apprehensions which are tormenting you.
Clitoris. (at the door, to Clinia inside.) There’s nothing for you to worry about yet, Clinia: they haven’t been here for long at all, and I’m sure she’ll be here soon with the messenger. Please, let go of these unfounded fears that are troubling you.
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Chrem. (apart.) Who is my son talking to?
Chrem. (apart.) Who is my son chatting with?
Makes his appearance.
Shows up.
Clit. (to himself.) Here comes my father, whom I wished to see: I’ll accost him. Father, you have met me opportunely.
Clitoris. (to himself.) Here comes my dad, whom I wanted to see: I’ll approach him. Dad, you’ve come at just the right time.
Chrem. What is the matter?
Chrem. What's the matter?
Clit. Do you know this neighbor of ours, Menedemus?
Clitoris. Do you know our neighbor, Menedemus?
Chrem. Very well.
Chrem. Sounds good.
Clit. Do you know that he has a son?
Clitoris. Did you know he has a son?
Chrem. I have heard that he has; in Asia.
Chrem. I've heard that he has; in Asia.
Clit. He is not in Asia, father; he is at our house.
Clitoris. He is not in Asia, father; he's at our place.
Chrem. What is it you say?
Chrem. What are you saying?
Clit. Upon his arrival, after he had just landed from the ship, I immediately brought him to dine with us; for from our very childhood upward I have always been on intimate terms with him.
Clitoris. When he arrived, right after he got off the ship, I immediately invited him to eat with us; because we've been close friends since we were kids.
Chrem. You announce to me a great pleasure. How much I wish that Menedemus had accepted my invitation to make one of us: that at my house I might have been the first to surprise him, when not expecting it, with this delight!—and even yet there’s time enough——
Chrem. You’re telling me about a great pleasure. I really wish Menedemus had accepted my invitation to join us: it would have been amazing to surprise him at my place when he least expected it with this joy!—and there’s still time for that——
Clit. Take care what you do; there is no necessity, father, for doing so.
Clitoris. Be careful with your actions; there’s really no need, dad, to do that.
Chrem. For what reason?
Chrem. Why?
Clit. Why, because he is as yet undetermined what to do with himself. He is but just arrived. He fears every thing; his father’s displeasure, and how his mistress may be disposed toward him. He loves her to distraction: on her account, this trouble and going abroad took place.
Clitoris. Why? Because he still doesn't know what to do with himself. He just got here. He's scared of everything: his father's anger and how his girlfriend might feel about him. He's totally in love with her; it's because of her that he's in this mess and has to travel.
Chrem. I know it.
Chrem. I got it.
Clit. He has just sent a servant into the city to her, and I ordered our Syrus to go with him.
Clitoris. He just sent a servant into the city to her, and I told our Syrus to go with him.
Chrem. What does Clinia say?
Chrem. What does Clinia say?
Clit. What does he say? That he is wretched.
Clit. What does he say? That he's miserable.
Chrem. Wretched? Whom could we less suppose so? What is there wanting for him to enjoy every thing that among men, in fact, are esteemed as blessings? Parents, a country in prosperity, friends, family, relations, riches? And yet, all these are just according to the disposition of him who possesses them. To him who knows how to use them, they are blessings; to him who does not use them rightly, they are evils.
Chrem. Wretched? Who would even think that? What more does he need to enjoy everything that people actually consider valuable? Parents, a thriving country, friends, family, connections, wealth? Yet, all these depend on the mindset of the person who has them. For someone who knows how to make use of them, they are blessings; for someone who doesn’t use them properly, they are misfortunes.
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Clit. Aye, but he always was a morose old man; and now I dread nothing more, father, than that in his displeasure he’ll be doing something to him more than is justifiable.
Clitoris. Yeah, but he was always a grumpy old man; and now I fear nothing more, Dad, than that in his anger, he'll do something to him that's way over the line.
Chrem. What, he? (Aside.) But I’ll restrain myself; for that the other one should be in fear of his father is of service to him.31
Chrem. What, him? (Aside.) But I’ll hold back; the fact that the other one is worried about his dad actually helps him.31
Clit. What is it you are saying to yourself!
Clitoris. What are you saying to yourself?
Chrem. I’ll tell you. However the case stood, Clinia ought still to have remained at home. Perhaps his father was a little stricter than he liked: he should have put up with it. For whom ought he to bear with, if he would not bear with his own father? Was it reasonable that he should live after his son’s humor, or his son after his? And as to charging him with harshness, it is not the fact. For the severities of fathers are generally of one character, those I mean who are in some degree reasonable men.32 They do not wish their sons to be always wenching; they do not wish them to be always carousing; they give a limited allowance; and yet all this tends to virtuous conduct. But when the mind, Clitipho, has once enslaved itself by vicious appetites, it must of necessity follow similar pursuits. This is a wise maxim, “to take warning from others of what may be to your own advantage.”
Chrem. I'll tell you. No matter the situation, Clinia should have stayed at home. Maybe his father was a bit stricter than he wanted: he should have dealt with it. Who else should he tolerate if he can't even tolerate his own father? Is it fair for him to live according to his son’s wishes, or for his son to live according to his? And about the accusation of being harsh, that's not true. Fathers' strictness usually has a common theme, those I mean who are somewhat reasonable. They don't want their sons to always be chasing after women; they don't want them to be constantly partying; they give a set allowance; and all this promotes good behavior. But once the mind, Clitipho, has become enslaved by bad desires, it inevitably follows the same destructive paths. There's a wise saying: "learn from others what can benefit you."
Clit. I believe so.
Clit. I think so.
Chrem. I’ll now go hence in-doors, to see what we have for dinner. Do you, seeing what is the time of day, mind and take care not to be any where out of the way.
Chrem. I'm going inside now to see what's for dinner. You, since you can tell what time it is, make sure you don't end up somewhere inconvenient.
Goes into his house, and exit Clitipho.
Goes into his house, and exit Clitipho.
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.
Enter Clitipho.
Enter Clitipho.
Clit. (to himself.) What partial judges are all fathers in regard to all of us young men, in thinking it reasonable for 147 us to become old men all at once from boys, and not to participate in those things which youth is naturally inclined to. They regulate us by their own desires,—such as they now are,—not as they once were. If ever I have a son, he certainly shall find in me an indulgent father. For the means both of knowing and of pardoning33 his faults shall be found by me; not like mine, who by means of another person, discloses to me his own sentiments. I’m plagued to death,—when he drinks a little more than usual, what pranks of his own he does relate to me! Now he says, “Take warning from others of what may be to your advantage.” How shrewd! He certainly does not know how deaf I am at the moment when he’s telling his stories. Just now, the words of my mistress make more impression upon me. “Give me this, and bring me that,” she cries; I have nothing to say to her in answer, and no one is there more wretched than myself. But this Clinia, although he, as well, has cares enough of his own, still has a mistress of virtuous and modest breeding, and a stranger to the arts of a courtesan. Mine is a craving, saucy, haughty, extravagant creature, full of lofty airs. Then all that I have to give her is—fair words34—for I make it a point not to tell her that I have nothing. This misfortune I met with not long since, nor does my father as yet know any thing of the matter.
Clitoris. (to himself.) It’s crazy how biased fathers are toward young men like us, thinking it’s fair for us to instantly transform from boys to old men, ignoring what youth naturally wants. They judge us based on their current desires, not how they used to be. If I ever have a son, I'm going to be a lenient dad. I’ll be able to understand and forgive his mistakes, not like mine, who only shares his feelings through someone else. I’m driven crazy—when he drinks a little more than usual, he tells me all his wild stories! Now he says, “Learn from others about what’s good for you.” How clever! He doesn’t realize how I tune out when he’s sharing his tales. Right now, the words of my mistress are more important to me. “Get me this, and bring me that,” she demands; I’ve got nothing to say back to her, and no one is more miserable than I am. But this Clinia, even though he has his own worries, has a mistress who is virtuous and well-bred, and she doesn’t know the tricks of a courtesan. Mine is a demanding, cheeky, arrogant, extravagant creature, full of herself. All I can offer her is sweet talk34—I make it a point not to tell her I have nothing. I faced this problem not long ago, and my father still doesn’t know anything about it.
Exit.
Log out.
Scene II.
Enter Clinia from the house of Chremes.
Enter Clinia from the house of Chremes.
Clin. (to himself.) If my love-affairs had been prosperous for me, I am sure she would have been here by this; but I’m afraid that the damsel has been led astray here in my absence. Many things combine to strengthen this opinion in my mind; opportunity, the place, her age, a worthless mother, 148 under whose control she is, with whom nothing but gain is precious.
Clin. (to himself.) If my relationships had gone well, I’m sure she would be here by now, but I’m worried that the girl has been misled in my absence. Several factors make me believe this: the opportunity, the location, her age, and a selfish mother, 148 who only values profit.
Enter Clitipho.
Enter Clitipho.
Clit. Clinia!
Clit. Clinia!
Clin. Alas! wretched me!
Clin. Ugh! Poor me!
Clit. Do, pray, take care that no one coming out of your father’s house sees you here by accident.
Clitoris. Please, make sure that no one leaving your father's house sees you here by chance.
Clin. I will do so; but really my mind presages I know not what misfortune.
Clinic. I will do that; but honestly, I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.
Clit. Do you persist in making up your mind upon that, before you know what is the fact?
Clitoris. Are you still deciding that, before you know what the truth is?
Clin. Had no misfortune happened, she would have been here by this.
Clinc. If nothing unfortunate had happened, she would have been here by now.
Clit. She’ll be here presently.
Clit. She'll be here soon.
Clin. When will that presently be?
Clin. When will that be?
Clit. You don’t consider that it is a great way from here.35 Besides, you know the ways of women, while they are bestirring themselves, and while they are making preparations a whole year passes by.
Clitoris. You don’t realize that it’s a long way from here.35 Plus, you know how women are; while they’re getting ready, a whole year goes by.
Clin. O Clitipho, I’m afraid—
Clin. Oh Clitipho, I’m worried—
Clit. Take courage. Look, here comes Dromo, together with Syrus: they are close at hand.
Clitoris. Be brave. Look, here comes Dromo, along with Syrus: they are right here.
They stand aside.
They step aside.
Scene III.
Enter Syrus and Dromo, conversing at a distance.
Enter Syrus and Dromo, talking from a distance.
Syr. Do you say so?
Do you really think so?
Dro. ’Tis as I told you,—but in the mean time, while we’ve been carrying on our discourse, these women have been left behind.
Dro. It’s just like I told you,—but in the meantime, while we’ve been having our conversation, these women have been left behind.
Clit. (apart.) Don’t you hear, Clinia? Your mistress is close at hand.
Clitoris. (apart.) Can’t you hear, Clinia? Your mistress is nearby.
Clin. (apart.) Why yes, I do hear now at last, and I see and revive, Clitipho.
Clin. (apart.) Yes, I can finally hear now, and I see and come back to life, Clitipho.
Dro. No wonder; they are so encumbered; they are bringing a troop of female attendants36 with them.
Dr. No surprise there; they have so much baggage; they’re bringing a whole group of female attendants with them.
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Clin. (apart.) I’m undone! Whence come these female attendants?
Clin. (apart.) I’m in trouble! Where did these women come from?
Clit. (apart.) Do you ask me?
Clit. (apart.) Do you ask me?
Syr. We ought not to have left them; what a quantity of things they are bringing!
Syrup. We shouldn't have left them; look at all the stuff they're bringing!
Clin. (apart.) Ah me!
Clin. (apart.) Oh no!
Syr. Jewels of gold, and clothes; it’s growing late too, and they don’t know the way. It was very foolish of us to leave them. Just go back, Dromo, and meet them. Make haste—why do you delay?
Syrup. Gold jewelry and clothes; it's getting late, and they don’t know the way. It was really foolish of us to leave them. Just go back, Dromo, and meet them. Hurry up—why are you taking so long?
Exit Dromo.
Exit Dromo.
Clin. (apart.) Woe unto wretched me!—from what high hopes am I fallen!
Clin. (apart.) Woe is me!—I've fallen from such high hopes!
Clit. (apart.) What’s the matter? Why, what is it that troubles you?
Clitoris. (apart.) What’s wrong? What’s bothering you?
Clin. (apart.) Do you ask what it is? Why, don’t you see? Attendants, jewels of gold, and clothes, her too, whom I left here with only one little servant girl. Whence do you suppose that they come?
Clin. (apart.) Do you want to know what this is? Don’t you see? Attendants, gold jewelry, and clothes, for her too, who I left here with just one little servant girl. Where do you think all this came from?
Clit. (apart.) Oh! now at last I understand you.
Clitoris. (apart.) Oh! now I finally get what you mean.
Syr. (to himself.) Good Gods! what a multitude there is! Our house will hardly hold them, I’m sure. How much they will eat! how much they will drink! what will there be more wretched than our old gentleman? (Catching sight of Clinia and Clitipho.) But look, I espy the persons I was wanting.
Syrup. (to himself.) Good heavens! There are so many people! I doubt our house can fit them all. Just think about how much they’ll eat! How much they’ll drink! Is there anything more miserable than our old man? (Catching sight of Clinia and Clitipho.) But wait, here are the people I was looking for.
Clin. (apart.) Oh Jupiter! Why, where is fidelity gone? While I, distractedly wandering, have abandoned my country for your sake, you, in the mean time, Antiphila, have been enriching yourself, and have forsaken me in these troubles, you for whose sake I am in extreme disgrace, and have been disobedient to my father; on whose account I am now ashamed and grieved, that he who used to lecture me about the manners of these women, advised me in vain, and was not able to wean me away from her:—which, however, I shall now do; whereas when it might have been advantageous to me to do so, I was unwilling. There is no being more wretched than I.
Clin. (apart.) Oh Jupiter! Why has loyalty disappeared? While I've been wandering around, lost in thought, I left my country for you, and meanwhile, you, Antiphila, have been enjoying yourself and abandoning me in this mess—it's you for whom I've fallen into such disgrace and disobeyed my father. Now I feel ashamed and hurt because the one who used to lecture me about these women's ways gave me advice that turned out to be useless and couldn't pull me away from her. But now I will. Although I didn't want to when it could have actually helped me, I’ll do it now. There’s no one more miserable than I am.
Syr. (to himself.) He certainly has been misled by our words which we have been speaking here. (Aloud.) Clinia, you imagine your mistress quite different from what she really is. For both her mode of life is the same, and her disposition 150 toward you is the same as it always was; so far as we could form a judgment from the circumstances themselves.
Syrup. (to himself.) He has definitely misunderstood what we've been saying here. (Aloud.) Clinia, you think your mistress is completely different from who she really is. Her lifestyle hasn’t changed, and her feelings toward you are the same as they’ve always been, at least from what we can tell based on the situation. 150
Clin. How so, prithee? For nothing in the world could I rather wish for just now, than that I have suspected this without reason.
Clin. How come? Because there's nothing I would want more right now than to find out that my suspicions were baseless.
Syr. This, in the first place, then (that you may not be ignorant of any thing that concerns her); the old woman, who was formerly said to be her mother, was not so.—She is dead: this I overheard by accident from her, as we came along, while she was telling the other one.
Syrup. First of all, just so you know everything that concerns her, the old woman who was thought to be her mother isn’t actually her mother.—She’s dead: I happened to overhear this from her while we were walking, as she was telling someone else.
Clit. Pray, who is the other one?
Clitoris. Please, who is the other person?
Syr. Stay; what I have begun I wish first to relate. Clitipho; I shall come to that afterward.
Syrup. Hold on; I want to share what I've started first. Clitipho; I'll get to that later.
Clit. Make haste, then.
Clit. Hurry up, then.
Syr. First of all, then, when we came to the house, Dromo knocked at the door; a certain old woman came out; when she opened the door, he directly rushed in; I followed; the old woman bolted the door, and returned to her wool. On this occasion might be known, Clinia, or else on none, in what pursuits she passed her life during your absence; when we thus came upon a female unexpectedly. For this circumstance then gave us an opportunity of judging of the course of her daily life; a thing which especially discovers what is the disposition of each individual. We found her industriously plying at the web; plainly clad in a mourning dress,37 on account of this old woman, I suppose, who was lately dead; without golden ornaments, dressed, besides, just like those who only dress for themselves, and patched up with no worthless woman’s trumpery.38 Her hair was loose, long, 151 and thrown back negligently about her temples. (To Clinia.) Do you hold your peace.39
Syringe. First of all, when we arrived at the house, Dromo knocked at the door. An older woman came out; as soon as she opened the door, he rushed inside, and I followed. The old woman locked the door and went back to her wool. In this moment, Clinia, we could see how she spent her days during your absence, as we unexpectedly came upon a woman. This situation gave us a chance to observe her daily life, which reveals a lot about a person’s character. We found her busily working at her loom, dressed simply in mourning clothes, likely for that old woman who had recently passed away. She wasn’t wearing any gold jewelry and was dressed like someone who only outfits themselves, patched up without any worthless frills. Her hair was loose, long, and carelessly pulled back around her temples. (To Clinia.) Please be quiet.39
Clin. My dear Syrus, do not without cause throw me into ecstasies, I beseech you.
Clin. My dear Syrus, please don’t make me feel ecstatic for no good reason, I’m begging you.
Clit. If this is true, Clinia, as I believe it is, who is there more fortunate than you? Do you mark this girl whom he speaks of, as dirty and drabbish? This, too, is a strong indication that the mistress is out of harm’s way, when her confidant is in such ill plight; for it is a rule with those who wish to gain access to the mistress, first to bribe the maid.
Clitoris. If what you say is true, Clinia, as I believe it is, who could be luckier than you? Do you see this girl he's talking about, looking so unkempt and shabby? This is also a strong sign that the mistress is safe when her confidant is in such a bad situation; because it's a common tactic for those trying to get to the mistress to first bribe the maid.
Clin. (to Syrus.) Go on, I beseech you; and beware of endeavoring to purchase favor by telling an untruth. What did she say, when you mentioned me?
Clin. (to Syrus.) Please, go ahead; and be careful not to try to gain favor by lying. What did she say when you brought me up?
Syr. When we told her that you had returned, and had requested her to come to you, the damsel instantly put away the web, and covered her face all over with tears; so that 152 you might easily perceive that it really was caused by her affection for you.
Syrup. When we told her that you were back and wanted her to come to you, she immediately set aside her work and covered her face with tears, so it was clear that her feelings for you were genuine. 152
Clin. So may the Deities bless me, I know not where I am for joy! I was so alarmed before.
Clin. So help me, I have no idea where I am for happiness! I was so scared before.
Clit. But I was sure that there was no reason, Clinia. Come now, Syrus, tell me, in my turn, who this other lady is.
Clitoris. But I was certain that there was no reason, Clinia. Come on, Syrus, tell me, in return, who this other lady is.
Syr. Your Bacchis, whom we are bringing.42
Syr. Your Bacchis, who we're bringing.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Clit. Ha! What! Bacchis? How now, you rascal! whither are you bringing her?
Clitoris. Ha! What! Bacchis? What’s going on, you troublemaker! Where are you taking her?
Syr. Whither am I bringing her? To our house, to be sure.
Syrup. Where am I taking her? To our place, definitely.
Clit. What! to my father’s?
What! to my dad’s?
Syr. To the very same.
To the same.
Clit. Oh, the audacious impudence of the fellow!
Clitoris. Oh, the boldness of that guy!
Syr. Hark’ye, no great and memorable action is done without some risk.
Syrup. Listen, no significant and memorable action happens without some risk.
Clit. Look now; are you seeking to gain credit for yourself, at the hazard of my character, you rascal, in a point, where, if you only make the slightest slip, I am ruined? What would you be doing with her?
Clitoris. Look now; are you trying to score points for yourself at the risk of my reputation, you scoundrel, in a matter where, if you make even the smallest mistake, I’m finished? What do you plan to do with her?
Syr. But still—
But still—
Clit. Why “still?”
Clit. Why “still”?
Syr. If you’ll give me leave, I’ll tell you.
Syrup. If you let me, I’ll tell you.
Clin. Do give him leave.
Clin. Let him go.
Clit. I give him leave then.
Clit. I let him go then.
Syr. This affair is now just as though when—
Syrup. This situation is now just like when—
Clit. Plague on it, what roundabout story is he beginning to tell me?
Clitoris. Ugh, what long-winded story is he starting to tell me?
Clin. Syrus, he says what’s right—do omit digressions; come to the point.
Clin. Syrus, he says what’s right—don’t go off-topic; get to the point.
Syr. Really I can not hold my tongue. Clitipho, you are every way unjust, and can not possibly be endured.
Syrup. Honestly, I can't keep quiet any longer. Clitipho, you are completely unjust, and I just can't tolerate you anymore.
Clin. Upon my faith, he ought to have a hearing. (To Clitipho.) Do be silent.
Clin. Honestly, he should get a chance to speak. (To Clitipho.) Please be quiet.
Syr. You wish to indulge in your amours; you wish to possess your mistress; you wish that to be procured wherewithal 153 to make her presents; in getting this, you do not wish the risk to be your own. You are not wise to no purpose,—if indeed it is being wise to wish for that which can not happen. Either the one must be had with the other, or the one must be let alone with the other. Now, of these two alternatives, consider which one you would prefer; although this project which I have formed, I know to be both a wise and a safe one. For there is an opportunity for your mistress to be with you at your father’s house, without fear of a discovery; besides, by these self-same means, I shall find the money which you have promised her—to effect which, you have already made my ears deaf with entreating me. What would you have more?
Syrup. You want to enjoy your love affairs; you want to have your mistress; you want to secure the means to give her gifts; yet you don't want the risk to fall on you. You're not foolish for no reason—if wanting something impossible is considered wise. You can either have one with the other, or leave one alone with the other. Now, out of these two options, think about which one you prefer; although I believe my plan is both smart and safe. There's a chance for your mistress to be with you at your father's house without worrying about being discovered; plus, through this same method, I'll gather the money you promised her—which you've been making me listen to over and over. What more could you want?
Clit. If, indeed, this could be brought about—
Clit. If this could really happen—
Syr. If, indeed? You shall know it by experience.
Syringe. Really? You'll find out through experience.
Clit. Well, well, disclose this project of yours. What is it?
Clitoris. Alright, go ahead and share your plan. What is it?
Syr. We will pretend that your mistress is his (pointing to Clinia).
Syrup. Let's act like your girlfriend is his (pointing to Clinia).
Clit. Very fine! Tell me, what is he to do with his own? Is she, too, to be called his, as if one was not a sufficient discredit?
Clitoris. Great! So, what is he supposed to do with his own? Should she also be called his, as if that alone isn’t enough of a disgrace?
Syr. No—she shall be taken to your mother.
Syrup. No—she will be taken to your mother.
Clit. Why there?
Clit. Why there?
Syr. It would be tedious, Clitipho, if I were to tell you why I do so; I have a good reason.
Syrup. It would be a drag, Clitipho, if I had to explain why I'm doing this; I have a solid reason.
Clit. Stuff! I see no grounds sufficiently solid why it should be for my advantage to incur this risk.43 (Turning as if going.)
Clitoris. Nonsense! I don’t see any valid reason why it would benefit me to take this risk.43 (Turning as if going.)
Syr. Stay; if there is this risk, I have another project, which you must both confess to be free from danger.
Syrup. Wait; if there’s a risk involved, I have another plan, which you both have to admit is safe.
Clit. Find out something of that description, I beseech you.
Clitoris. Please find out something like that, I urge you.
Syr. By all means; I’ll go meet her, and tell her to return home.
Syrup. Absolutely; I’ll go meet her, and tell her to come back home.
Clit. Ha! what was it you said?
Clit. Ha! What did you mean?
Syr. I’ll rid you at once of all fears, so that you may sleep at your ease upon either ear.44
Syrup. I’ll free you from all your worries right now, so you can sleep comfortably on either side. 44
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Clit. What am I to do now?
Clit. What should I do now?
Clin. What are you to do? The goods that—
Clinic. What are you going to do? The goods that—
Clit. Only tell me the truth, Syrus.
Clitoris. Just tell me the truth, Syrus.
Syr. Dispatch quickly; you’ll be wishing just now too late and in vain. (Going.)
Syrup. Hurry up; you'll regret it soon enough for being too late and useless. (Leaving.)
Clin. The Gods provide, enjoy while yet you may; for you know not—
Clin. The Gods provide, enjoy while you still can; for you never know—
Clit. (calling.) Syrus, I say!
Clit. (calling.) Syrus, hey!
Syr. (moving on.) Go on; I shall still do that which I said.45
Syrup. (moving on.) Go ahead; I’ll still do what I said. 45
Clin. Whether you may have another opportunity hereafter or ever again.
Clinic. Whether you will have another chance in the future or ever again.
Clit. I’faith, that’s true. (Calling.) Syrus, Syrus, I say, harkye, harkye, Syrus!
Clitoris. I swear, that's true. (Calling.) Syrus, Syrus, I say, listen, listen, Syrus!
Syr. (aside.) He warms a little. (To Clitipho.) What is it you want?
Syrup. (aside.) He's getting a bit warm. (To Clitipho.) What do you need?
Clit. Come back, come back.
Clit. Come back, come back.
Syr. (coming back to him.) Here I am; tell me what you would have. You’ll be presently saying that this, too, doesn’t please you.
Syrup. (coming back to him.) I'm here; tell me what you need. Soon enough, you'll probably say that this also doesn’t satisfy you.
Clit. Nay, Syrus, I commit myself, and my love, and my reputation entirely to you: you are the seducer; take care you don’t deserve any blame.
Clitoris. No, Syrus, I’m all in—my love and my reputation are totally yours. You’re the one who’s charming; just make sure you don’t get any blame.
Syr. It is ridiculous for you to give me that caution, Clitipho, as if my interest was less at stake in this affair than yours. Here, if any ill luck should perchance befall us, words will be in readiness for you, but for this individual blows (pointing to himself.) For that reason, this matter is by no means to be neglected on my part: but do prevail upon him (pointing to Clinia) to pretend that she is his own mistress.
Syrup. It's ridiculous for you to warn me like that, Clitipho, as if my stake in this situation is any less than yours. If anything goes wrong here, you’ll have words ready to defend yourself, but I'm the one who could end up taking the hits (pointing to himself.) Because of that, I can't ignore this issue: but you need to convince him (pointing to Clinia) to act like she’s his own girlfriend.
Clin. You may rest assured I’ll do so. The matter has now come to that pass, that it is a case of necessity.
Clin. You can be sure I will. It's now reached a point where it's absolutely necessary.
Clit. ’Tis with good reason that I love you, Clinia.
Clitoris. It's no surprise that I love you, Clinia.
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Clin. But she mustn’t be tripping at all.
Clin. But she can't be stumbling at all.
Syr. She is thoroughly tutored in her part.
Syrup. She is completely trained in her role.
Clit. But this I wonder at, how you could so easily prevail upon her, who is wont to treat such great people46 with scorn.
Clitoris. But I wonder how you could so easily convince her, who usually looks down on such important people46 with disdain.
Syr. I came to her at the proper moment, which in all things is of the first importance: for there I found a certain wretched captain soliciting her favors: she artfully managed the man, so as to inflame his eager passions by denial; and this, too, that it might be especially pleasing to yourself. But hark you, take care, will you, not to be imprudently impetuous. You know your father, how quick-sighted he is in these matters; and I know you, how unable you are to command yourself. Keep clear of words of double meaning,47 your sidelong looks, sighing, hemming, coughing, tittering.
Syrup. I arrived just at the right moment, which is crucial in everything: because there I found a certain miserable captain trying to win her over: she cleverly played him, making his desires burn hotter by holding back; and this was especially to please you. But listen, please be careful not to act too rashly. You know how perceptive your father is about these things; and I know you, how hard it is for you to control yourself. Avoid any ambiguous words, 47 your sideways glances, sighs, clears of the throat, and giggles.
Clit. You shall have to commend me.
Clit. You’ll have to commend me.
Syr. Take care of that, please.
Syr. Please handle that.
Clit. You yourself shall be surprised at me.
Clitoris. You’re going to be surprised by me.
Syr. But how quickly the ladies have come up with us!
Syrup. But how fast the ladies have caught up with us!
Clit. Where are they? (Syrus stands before him.) Why do you hold me back?
Clitoris. Where are they? (Syrus stands in front of him.) Why are you stopping me?
Syr. For the present she is nothing to you.
Syrup. Right now, she means nothing to you.
Clit. I know it, before my father; but now in the mean time—
Clitoris. I get it, before my dad; but for now—
Syr. Not a bit the more.
Syr. Not at all.
Clit. Do let me.
Clit. Go ahead.
Syr. I will not let you, I tell you.
Syrup. I'm not going to let you, I'm telling you.
Clit. But only for a moment, pray.
Clitoris. But just for a moment, please.
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Syr. I forbid it.
I forbid it.
Clit. Only to salute her.
Clit. Just to salute her.
Syr. If you are wise, get you gone.
Syrup. If you’re smart, you should leave.
Clit. I’m off. But what’s he to do? (Pointing at Clinia.)
Clitoris. I’m leaving. But what’s he supposed to do? (Pointing at Clinia.)
Syr. He will stay here.
Syr. He'll stay here.
Clit. O happy man!
Clit. Oh, lucky guy!
Syr. Take yourself off.
Syr. Leave now.
Exit Clitipho.
Exit Clitipho.
Scene IV.
Enter Bacchis and Antiphila at a distance.
Enter Bacchis and Antiphila from afar.
Bacchis. Upon my word, my dear Antiphila, I commend you, and think you fortunate in having made it your study that your manners should be conformable to those good looks of yours: and so may the Gods bless me, I do not at all wonder if every man is in love with you. For your discourse has been a proof to me what kind of disposition you possess. And when now I reflect in my mind upon your way of life, and that of all of you, in fact, who keep the public at a distance from yourselves, it is not surprising both that you are of that disposition, and that we are not; for it is your interest to be virtuous; those, with whom we are acquainted, will not allow us to be so. For our lovers, allured merely by our beauty, court us for that; when that has faded, they transfer their affections elsewhere; and unless we have made provision in the mean time for the future, we live in destitution. Now with you, when you have once resolved to pass your life with one man whose manners are especially kindred to your own, those persons48 become attached to you. By this kindly feeling, you are truly devoted to each other; and no calamity can ever possibly interrupt your love.
Bacchus. Honestly, my dear Antiphila, I admire you and think you’re lucky to have made it your goal for your personality to match your stunning looks. And I swear, I’m not surprised if every guy falls for you. Your conversations have shown me what kind of person you are. When I think about your lifestyle and that of all of you who keep the public at a distance, it makes sense that you're that kind of person and that we aren't. It's in your best interest to be virtuous; those we know won’t let us be. Our admirers, drawn in just by our beauty, pursue us for that reason; once that fades, they move on to someone else. And unless we’ve planned for the future, we could end up in poverty. But with you, once you've decided to spend your life with a man whose character matches yours, those people48 become devoted to you. Through this bond, you’re truly committed to each other, and no disaster could ever break your love.
Anti. I know nothing about other women: I’m sure that I have, indeed, always used every endeavor to derive my own happiness from his happiness.
Against. I don’t know anything about other women: I'm sure that I've always tried my best to find my own happiness in his happiness.
Clin. (apart, overhearing Antiphila.) Ah! ’tis for that reason, my Antiphila, that you alone have now caused me to return to my native country; for while I was absent from 157 you, all other hardships which I encountered were light to me, save the being deprived of you.
Clin. (aside, overhearing Antiphila.) Ah! That’s the reason, my Antiphila, that you are the only one who has made me come back to my homeland; because while I was away from you, all other difficulties I faced were easy compared to being without you.
Syr. (apart.) I believe it.
I believe it.
Clin. (apart.) Syrus, I can scarce endure it!49 Wretch that I am, that I should not be allowed to possess one of such a disposition at my own discretion!
Clinic. (apart.) Syrus, I can hardly stand it!49 What a miserable person I am, that I can't be allowed to have someone like that at my own choice!
Syr. Nay, so far as I understand your father, he will for a long time yet be giving you a hard task.
Syrup. No, from what I know about your dad, he’s going to keep making things tough for you for a while longer.
Bacch. Why, who is that young man that’s looking at us?
Bacchus. Who is that young guy staring at us?
Anti. (seeing Clinia.) Ah! do support me, I entreat you!
Against. (seeing Clinia.) Ah! please help me, I beg you!
Bacch. Prithee, what is the matter with you?
Bacch. What's wrong with you?
Anti. I shall die, alas! I shall die!
Against. I'm going to die, oh no! I'm going to die!
Bacch. Why are you thus surprised, Antiphila?
Bacch. Why are you so surprised, Antiphila?
Anti. Is it Clinia that I see, or not?
Against. Is that Clinia I see, or not?
Bacch. Whom do you see?
Bacch. Who do you see?
Clin. (running to embrace Antiphila.) Blessings on you, my life!
Clin. (running to embrace Antiphila.) Blessings to you, my love!
Anti. Oh my long-wished for Clinia, blessings on you!
Against. Oh my long-awaited Clinia, blessings to you!
Clin. How fare you, my love?
Clin. How are you, my love?
Anti. I’m overjoyed that you have returned safe.
Against. I'm really happy that you made it back safe.
Clin. And do I embrace you, Antiphila, so passionately longed for by my soul?
Clin. And do I hold you close, Antiphila, so desperately desired by my soul?
Syr. Go in-doors; for the old gentleman has been waiting for us some time.
Syrup. Let's go inside; the old man has been waiting for us for a while.
They go into the house of Chremes.
They enter Chremes' house.
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ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Chremes from his house.
Enter Chremes from his home.
Chrem. (to himself.) It is now daybreak.50 Why do I delay to knock at my neighbor’s door, that he may learn from me the first that his son has returned? Although I am aware that the youth would not prefer this. But when I see him tormenting himself so miserably about his absence, can I conceal a joy so unhoped for, especially when there can be no danger to him from the discovery? I will not do so; but as far as I can I will assist the old man. As I see my son aiding his friend and year’s-mate, and acting as his confidant in his concerns, it is but right that we old men as well should assist each other.
Chrem. (to himself.) It’s now daybreak.50 Why am I hesitating to knock on my neighbor’s door, so he can be the first to know his son has returned? I know the young man wouldn’t want this news delivered by me. But when I see him suffering so terribly about his absence, can I really hide a joy that’s so unexpected, especially when there’s no risk to him from the reveal? I won’t do that; I’ll help the old man as much as I can. Since I see my son helping his friend and classmate, acting as his confidant in his troubles, it’s only fair that we older men lend each other a hand too.
Enter Menedemus from his house.
Enter Menedemus from his home.
Men. (to himself.) Assuredly I was either born with a disposition peculiarly suited for misery, or else that saying which I hear commonly repeated, that “time assuages human sorrow,” is false. For really my sorrow about my son increases daily; and the longer he is away from me, the more anxiously do I wish for him, and the more I miss him.
Guys. (to himself.) I must have been born with a natural tendency for misery, or maybe that saying I keep hearing, that “time eases human sorrow,” is just not true. Because honestly, my sadness about my son grows every day; the longer he’s away from me, the more I crave his company, and the more I miss him.
Chrem. (apart.) But I see him coming out of his house; I’ll go speak to him. (Aloud.) Menedemus, good-morrow; I bring you news, which you would especially desire to be imparted.
Chrem. (aside.) But I see him coming out of his house; I’ll go talk to him. (Loudly.) Menedemus, good morning; I have news for you that I think you’ll really want to hear.
Men. Pray, have you heard any thing about my son, Chremes?
Guys. Please, have you heard anything about my son, Chremes?
Chrem. He’s alive, and well.
Chrem. He's alive and doing well.
Men. Why, where is he, pray?
Men. Where is he, please?
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Chrem. Here, at my house, at home.
Chrem. Here, at my place, at home.
Men. My son?
Dudes. My son?
Chrem. Such is the fact.
Chrem. That's the way it is.
Men. Come home?
Men. Coming home?
Chrem. Certainly.
Chrem. For sure.
Men. My son, Clinia, come home?
Men. My son, Clinia, home?
Chrem. I say so.
Chrem. I say yeah.
Men. Let us go. Lead me to him, I beg of you.
Guys. Let's go. Please take me to him.
Chrem. He does not wish you yet to know of his return, and he shuns your presence; he’s afraid that, on account of that fault, your former severity may even be increased.
Chrem. He doesn't want you to know about his return yet, and he’s avoiding you; he’s afraid that because of that mistake, your previous harshness might get worse.
Chrem. No—
Chrem. No—
Men. For what reason, Chremes?
Guys. For what reason, Chremes?
Chrem. Because there you would judge extremely ill both for yourself and for him, if you were to show yourself of a spirit so weak and irresolute.
Chrem. Because you would be making a really poor judgment for both yourself and him if you let your weak and indecisive attitude show.
Men. I can not help it: enough already, enough, have I proved a rigorous father.
Men. I can't help it: I've already shown that I'm a strict father.
Chrem. Ah Menedemus! you are too precipitate in either extreme, either with profuseness or with parsimony too great. Into the same error will you fall from the one side as from the other. In the first place, formerly, rather than allow your son to visit a young woman, who was then content with a very little, and to whom any thing was acceptable, you frightened him away from here. After that, she began, quite against her inclination, to seek a subsistence upon the town. Now, when she can not be supported without a great expense, you are ready to give any thing. For, that you may know how perfectly she is trained to extravagance, in the first place, she has already brought with her more than ten female attendants, all laden with clothes and jewels of gold; if a satrap52 had been her admirer, he never could support her expenses, much less can you.
Chrem. Ah Menedemus! You’re way too extreme, either being overly generous or way too stingy. You’ll end up making the same mistake no matter which side you choose. First of all, in the past, instead of letting your son visit a young woman who was happy with very little and appreciated whatever she got, you scared him off. Then, she started, against her will, trying to make a living in the city. Now that she can't support herself without a lot of money, you're suddenly willing to give her anything. Just so you know how spoiled she is, she’s already shown up with more than ten female attendants, all loaded with clothes and gold jewelry; even if a governor had been her suitor, he wouldn’t be able to cover her expenses, let alone you.
Men. Is she at your house?
Men. Is she at your place?
Chrem. Is she, do you ask? I have felt it; for I have 160 given her and her retinue one dinner; had I to give them another such, it would be all over with me; for, to pass by other matters, what a quantity of wine she did consume for me in tasting only,53 saying thus, “This wine is too acid,54 respected sir,55 do please look for something more mellow.” I opened all the casks, all the vessels;56 she kept all on the stir: and this but a single night. What do you suppose will become of you when they are constantly preying upon you? So may the Gods prosper me, Menedemus, I do pity your lot.
Chrem. Is she, you ask? I’ve felt it; because I’ve treated her and her entourage to one dinner. If I had to host them for another, it would be the end for me; not to mention other things, just look at how much wine she drank on my behalf while merely tasting. She kept saying, “This wine is too sour, respected sir, please find something a bit softer.” I opened every cask and container; she kept me on my toes the entire time. And this was just for one night. What do you think will happen to you when they’re always draining you dry? So help me, Menedemus, I really feel for you.
Men. Let him do what he will; let him take, waste, and squander; I’m determined to endure it, so long as I only have him with me.
Men. Let him do whatever he wants; let him take, waste, and squander; I’m set on putting up with it, as long as I have him by my side.
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Chrem. If it is your determination thus to act, I hold it to be of very great moment that he should not be aware that with a full knowledge you grant him this.
Chrem. If you’ve decided to do this, I think it’s really important that he doesn’t realize that you’re giving him this with complete knowledge.
Men. What shall I do?
Guys. What should I do?
Chrem. Any thing, rather than what you are thinking of; supply him with money through some other person; suffer yourself to be imposed upon by the artifices of his servant: although I have smelt out this too, that they are about that, and are secretly planning it among them. Syrus is always whispering with that servant of yours;57 they impart their plans to the young men; and it were better for you to lose a talent this way, than a mina the other. The money is not the question now, but this—in what way we can supply it to the young man with the least danger. For if he once knows the state of your feelings, that you would sooner part with your life, and sooner with all your money, than allow your son to leave you; whew! what an inlet58 will you be opening for his debauchery! aye, and so much so, that henceforth to live can not be desirable to you. For we all become worse through indulgence. Whatever comes into his head, he’ll be wishing for; nor will he reflect whether that which he desires is right or wrong. You will not be able to endure your estate and him going to ruin. You will refuse to supply him: he will immediately have recourse to the means by which he finds that he has the greatest hold upon you, and threaten that he will immediately leave you.
Chrem. Anything but what you're thinking; give him money through someone else; let yourself be tricked by his servant’s schemes: although I’ve figured out that they’re up to something, and are secretly plotting it together. Syrus is always whispering with your servant;57 they share their plans with the young men; and it would be better for you to lose a talent this way than a mina that way. The money isn't the issue now, but rather how we can provide it for the young man with the least risk. Because if he ever realizes how you truly feel, that you would rather give up your life and all your money than let your son leave you; whew! what a door58 you will be opening for his indulgence! Yes, so much so that living will no longer be appealing to you. We all spiral downward when we indulge. Whatever he thinks of, he’ll want; and he won’t consider whether what he desires is right or wrong. You won't be able to stand your situation and watch him go to waste. You’ll refuse to give him anything: he'll immediately resort to the threats that he knows work best on you, and will say he’s going to leave you right away.
Men. You seem to speak the truth, and just what is the fact.
Men. You definitely speak the truth, and that's exactly the reality.
Chrem. I’faith, I have not been sensible of sleep this night with my eyes,59 for thinking of this—how to restore your son to you.
Chrem. Honestly, I haven't been able to sleep at all tonight because I've been thinking about how to bring your son back to you.
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Men. (taking his hand.) Give me your right hand. I request that you will still act in a like manner, Chremes.
Men. (taking his hand.) Give me your right hand. I ask you to continue acting the same way, Chremes.
Chrem. I am ready to serve you.
Chrem. I’m ready to serve you.
Men. Do you know what it is I now want you to do?
Guys. Do you know what I want you to do now?
Chrem. Tell me.
Chrem. Tell me.
Men. As you have perceived that they are laying a plan to deceive me, that they may hasten to complete it. I long to give him whatever he wants: I am now longing to behold him.
Men. As you’ve noticed, they are making a scheme to trick me so they can finish it quickly. I really want to give him whatever he desires: I’m eager to see him now.
Chrem. I’ll lend my endeavors. This little business is in my way. Our neighbors Simus and Crito are disputing here about boundaries; they have chosen me for arbitrator. I’ll go and tell them that I can not possibly give them my attention to-day as I had stated I would. I’ll be here immediately.
Chrem. I'll do my best. This little issue is bothering me. Our neighbors Simus and Crito are arguing about property lines; they've asked me to mediate. I'll go and let them know that I can't possibly focus on this today like I said I would. I'll be back right away.
Exit.
Log out.
Men. Pray do. (To himself.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! That the nature of all men should be so constituted, that they can see and judge of other men’s affairs better than their own! Is it because in our own concerns we are biased either with joy or grief in too great a degree? How much wiser now is he for me, than I have been for myself!
Men. Please do. (To himself.) Oh Gods, by our faith in you! How is it that all men are made in such a way that they can see and judge other people's affairs better than their own? Is it because we are too affected by joy or grief in our own matters? How much wiser he is for me now than I have been for myself!
Re-enter Chremes.
Re-enter Chremes.
Chrem. I have disengaged myself, that I might lend you my services at my leisure. Syrus must be found and instructed by me in this business. Some one, I know not who, is coming out of my house: do you step hence home, that they may not perceive60 that we are conferring together.
Chrem. I've stepped away so I can offer you my help when I have time. I need to find Syrus and give him instructions about this situation. Someone, I don’t know who, is coming out of my house: why don’t you head home so they don’t notice that we’re talking together?
Menedemus goes into his house.
Menedemus enters his house.
Scene II.
Enter Syrus from the house of Chremes.
Enter Syrus from the House of Chremes.
Syr. (aloud to himself.) Run to and fro in every direction; still, money, you must be found: a trap must be laid for the old man.
Syrup. (aloud to himself.) Run around in every direction; still, money, you have to be found: a trap has to be set for the old man.
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Chrem. (apart, overhearing him.) Was I deceived in saying that they were planning this? That servant of Clinia’s is somewhat dull; therefore that province has been assigned to this one of ours.
Chrem. (aside, overhearing him.) Was I wrong to say that they were planning this? That servant of Clinia’s is a bit slow; that's why this task has been given to our guy.
Syr. (in a low voice.) Who’s that speaking? (Catches sight of Chremes.) I’m undone! Did he hear it, I wonder?
Syrup. (in a low voice.) Who’s that talking? (Spots Chremes.) I’m in trouble! Did he hear that, I wonder?
Chrem. Syrus.
Chrem. Syrus.
Syr. Well—
Well—
Chrem. What are you doing here?
Chrem. What are you doing?
Syr. All right. Really, I am quite surprised at you, Chremes, up so early, after drinking so much yesterday.
Syrup. All right. Honestly, I’m really surprised to see you up so early, Chremes, especially after how much you drank yesterday.
Chrem. Not too much.
Chrem. Not a lot.
Syr. Not too much, say you? Really, you’ve seen the old age of an eagle,61 as the saying is.
Syrup. Not too much, you say? Honestly, you’ve witnessed the old age of an eagle,61 as the saying goes.
Chrem. Pooh, pooh!
Chrem. No way!
Syr. A pleasant and agreeable woman this Courtesan.
Syrup. She's a charming and likable woman, this Courtesan.
Chrem. Why, so she seemed to me, in fact.
Chrem. Well, that's how she appeared to me, actually.
Syr. And really of handsome appearance.
Syr. And truly good-looking.
Chrem. Well enough.
Chrem. I'm good.
Syr. Not like those of former days,62 but as times are now, very passable: nor do I in the least wonder that Clinia doats upon her. But he has a father—a certain covetous, miserable, and niggardly person—this neighbor of ours (pointing to the house). Do you know him? Yet, as if he was not abounding in wealth, his son ran away through want. Are you aware that it is the fact, as I am saying?
Syrup. Not like those of the past, 62 but as things are now, she's pretty appealing: and I can't say I'm surprised that Clinia is so crazy about her. But he has a father—a certain greedy, miserable, and stingy guy—this neighbor of ours (pointing to the house). Do you know him? Yet, even though he has plenty of money, his son ran away because he had nothing. Did you know that's really the case?
Chrem. How should I not be aware? A fellow that deserves the mill.
Chrem. How could I not know? A guy who deserves it.
Syr. Who?
Syr. Who's that?
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Chrem. That servant of the young gentleman, I mean.
Chrem. I’m talking about that servant of the young man.
Syr. (aside.) Syrus! I was sadly afraid for you.
Syrup. (aside.) Syrus! I was really worried about you.
Chrem. To suffer it to come to this!
Chrem. I can’t believe it’s come to this!
Syr. What was he to do?
Syr. What was he supposed to do?
Chrem. Do you ask the question? He ought to have found some expedient, contrived some stratagem, by means of which there might have been something for the young man to give to his mistress, and thus have saved this crabbed old fellow in spite of himself.
Chrem. Are you really asking that? He should have come up with some plan, figured out some trick, so there would have been something for the young man to give his girlfriend, and in doing so, saved this grumpy old guy whether he wanted it or not.
Syr. You are surely joking.
Syr. You must be kidding.
Chrem. This ought to have been done by him, Syrus.
Chrem. He should have done this, Syrus.
Syr. How now—pray, do you commend servants, who deceive their masters?
Syrup. So what’s up—do you actually support servants who trick their bosses?
Chrem. Upon occasion—I certainly do commend them.
Chrem. Occasionally, I definitely commend them.
Syr. Quite right.
Syr. That's correct.
Chrem. Inasmuch as it often is the remedy for great disturbances. Then would this man’s only son have staid at home.
Chrem. Since it's often the solution for major issues. Then this man's only son would have stayed home.
Syr. (aside.) Whether he says this in jest or in earnest, I don’t know; only, in fact, that he gives me additional zest for longing still more to trick him.
Syrup. (aside.) I can't tell if he's joking or being serious; all I know is that it makes me even more eager to fool him.
Chrem. And what is he now waiting for, Syrus? Is it until his father drives him away from here a second time, when he can no longer support her expenses?63 Has he no plot on foot against the old gentleman?
Chrem. So what is he waiting for now, Syrus? Is it until his father kicks him out of here again when he can't afford to support her anymore?63 Does he not have some scheme against the old man?
Syr. He is a stupid fellow.
Syr. He's an idiot.
Chrem. Then you ought to assist him—for the sake of the young man.
Chrem. Then you should help him—for the sake of the young man.
Syr. For my part, I can do so easily, if you command me; for I know well in what fashion it is usually done.
Syrup. As for me, I can do that so easily if you ask me; I know very well how it's usually done.
Chrem. So much the better, i’ faith.
Chrem. That’s awesome, honestly.
Syr. ’Tis not my way to tell an untruth.
Syrup. It's not in my nature to lie.
Chrem. Do it then.
Do it then.
Syr. But hark you! Just take care and remember this, in case any thing of this sort should perchance happen at a future time, such are human affairs!—your son might do the same.
Syrup. But listen! Just keep this in mind, in case something like this happens in the future, since that's how things go in life!—your son could do the same.
Chrem. The necessity will not arise, I trust.
Chrem. I hope that won’t be necessary.
Syr. I’ faith, and I trust so too: nor do I say so now, 165 because I have suspected him in any way; but in case, none the more64—You see what his age is; (aside) and truly, Chremes,65 if an occasion does happen, I may be able to handle you right handsomely.
Syrup. Honestly, I believe that too; I'm not saying this because I've suspected him in any way, but just in case—You can see how old he is; (aside) and honestly, Chremes, if an opportunity comes up, I might be able to take care of you quite well.
Chrem. As to that, we’ll consider what is requisite when the occasion does happen. At present do you set about this matter.
Chrem. Regarding that, we’ll think about what’s necessary when the time comes. For now, you should focus on this issue.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
Syr. (to himself.) Never on any occasion did I hear my master talk more to the purpose; nor at any time could I believe that I was authorized to play the rogue with greater impunity. I wonder who it is coming out of our house?
Syrup. (to himself.) I've never heard my master speak so clearly before; nor have I ever felt more justified in being a bit of a scoundrel without consequences. I wonder who’s coming out of our house?
Stands aside.
Steps aside.
Scene III.
Enter Chremes and Clitipho from the house of the former.
Enter Chremes and Clitipho from the house of the former.
Chrem. Pray, what does this mean? What behavior is this, Clitipho? Is this acting as becomes you?
Chrem. Please, what does this mean? What kind of behavior is this, Clitipho? Is this how you should be acting?
Clit. What have I done?
Clit. What did I do?
Chrem. Did I not see you just now putting your hand into this Courtesan’s bosom?
Chrem. Didn’t I just see you putting your hand into this Courtesan’s chest?
Syr. (apart.) It’s all up with us—I’m utterly undone!
We’re done—I’m totally ruined!
Clit. What, I?
Clit. What do you mean?
Chrem. With these self-same eyes I saw it—don’t deny it. Besides, you wrong him unworthily in not keeping your hands off: for indeed it is a gross affront to entertain a person, your friend, at your house, and to take liberties with his mistress. Yesterday, for instance, at wine, how rude you were—
Chrem. With these very eyes I saw it—don’t deny it. Besides, you’re being really unfair by not keeping your distance: it’s truly disrespectful to host someone, your friend, at your place and then make a move on his girlfriend. Just yesterday, when we were drinking, you were so rude—
Syr. (apart.) ’Tis the truth.66
Syr. (apart.) It’s the truth.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
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Chrem. How annoying you were! So much so, that for my part, as the Gods may prosper me, I dreaded what in the end might be the consequence. I understand lovers. They resent highly things that you would not imagine.
Chrem. How annoying you were! So much so that, honestly, as the Gods may help me, I dreaded what might end up being the consequence. I understand lovers. They get really upset about things you wouldn’t even imagine.
Clit. But he has full confidence in me, father, that I would not do any thing of that kind.
Clitoris. But he has complete confidence in me, father, that I wouldn’t do anything like that.
Chrem. Be it so; still, at least, you ought to go somewhere for a little time away from their presence. Passion prompts to many a thing; your presence acts as a restraint upon doing them. I form a judgment from myself. There’s not one of my friends this day to whom I would venture, Clitipho, to disclose all my secrets. With one, his station forbids it; with another, I am ashamed of the action itself, lest I may appear a fool or devoid of shame; do you rest assured that he does the same.67 But it is our part to be sensible of this; and, when and where it is requisite, to show due complaisance.
Chrem. Fine, but you really should spend some time away from them. Your strong feelings are pushing you to do things, but having them around keeps you from acting on it. I can only speak for myself. I wouldn’t share all my secrets with any of my friends today, Clitipho. With one, his position makes it inappropriate; with another, I’m embarrassed about the actions themselves, afraid I’ll look foolish or shameless; you can be sure he feels the same. 67 But it’s our job to recognize this and to show the right amount of politeness when necessary.
Syr. (coming forward and whispering to Clitipho.) What is it he is saying?
Syrup. (coming forward and whispering to Clitipho.) What is he saying?
Clit. (aside, to Syrus.) I’m utterly undone!
I’m totally undone!
Syr. Clitipho, these same injunctions I gave you. You have acted the part of a prudent and discreet person.68
Syrup. Clitipho, I gave you the same advice. You’ve behaved wisely and with restraint.68
Clit. Hold your tongue, I beg.
Clit. Please, hold your tongue.
Syr. Very good.
Syr. Great!
Chrem. (approaching them.) Syrus, I am ashamed of him.
Chrem. (walking up to them.) Syrus, I feel embarrassed for him.
Syr. I believe it; and not without reason. Why, he vexes myself even.
Syrup. I believe it, and for good reason. Honestly, he annoys me too.
Clit. (to Syrus.) Do you persist, then?
Clit. (to Syrus.) Are you still pushing?
Syr. I’ faith, I’m saying the truth, as it appears to me.
Syrup. Honestly, I'm speaking the truth, as it seems to me.
Clit. May I not go near them?
Clitoris. Can I not go near them?
Chrem. How now—pray, is there but one way69 of going near them?
Chrem. So, let me ask—is there really only one way69 to get close to them?
Syr. (aside.) Confusion! He’ll be betraying himself before I’ve got the money. (Aloud.) Chremes, will you give attention to me, who am but a silly person?
Syrup. (aside.) What a mess! He’s going to reveal himself before I get the cash. (Aloud.) Chremes, will you pay attention to someone as ridiculous as me?
Chrem. What am I to do?
Chrem. What should I do?
Syr. Bid him go somewhere out of the way.
Syr. Bid him go somewhere else.
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Clit. Where am I to go?
Clit. Where should I go?
Syr. Where you please; leave the place to them; be off and take a walk.
Syrup. Wherever you want; let them have the space; go on and take a walk.
Clit. Take a walk! where?
Clit. Go for a walk! Where?
Syr. Pshaw! Just as if there was no place to walk in. Why, then, go this way, that way, where you will.
Syringe. Whatever! It's not like there's nowhere to walk. So, just go any direction you want.
Chrem. He says right, I’m of his opinion.
Chrem. He says he's right, and I agree with him.
Clit. May the Gods extirpate you, Syrus, for thrusting me away from here.
Clitoris. May the gods get rid of you, Syrus, for pushing me away from here.
Syr. (aside to Clitipho.) Then do you for the future keep those hands of yours within bounds. (Exit Clitipho.) Really now (to Chremes), what do you think? What do you imagine will become of him next, unless, so far as the Gods afford you the means, you watch him, correct and admonish him?
Syrup (aside to Clitipho.) From now on, keep those hands of yours in check. (Exit Clitipho.) Seriously now (to Chremes), what do you think? What do you think will happen to him next, unless you keep an eye on him, correct him, and give him some guidance, as much as the Gods allow?
Chrem. I’ll take care of that.
Chrem. I’ve got that covered.
Syr. But now, master, he must be looked after by you.
Syrup. But now, boss, you need to take care of him.
Chrem. It shall be done.
Chrem. Consider it done.
Syr. If you are wise,—for now he minds me less and less every day.
Syrup. If you’re smart,—because now he cares about me less and less every day.
Chrem. What say you? What have you done, Syrus, about that matter which I was mentioning to you a short time since? Have you any plan that suits you, or not yet even?
Chrem. What do you say? What have you done, Syrus, about that thing I mentioned to you a little while ago? Do you have any plan that works for you, or not yet?
Syr. You mean the design upon Menedemus? I have; I have just hit upon one.
Syrup. You’re talking about the plan for Menedemus? I have it; I’ve just come up with one.
Chrem. You are a clever fellow; what is it? Tell me.
Chrem. You’re a smart guy; what is it? Tell me.
Syr. I’ll tell you; but, as one matter arises, out of another——
Syrup. I’ll tell you; but, as one thing leads to another——
Chrem. Why, what is it, Syrus?
Chrem. What's wrong, Syrus?
Syr. This Courtesan is a very bad woman.
Syrup. This courtesan is a really bad woman.
Chrem. So she seems.
Chrem. She seems that way.
Syr. Aye, if you did but know. O shocking! just see what she is hatching. There was a certain old woman here from Corinth,—this Bacchis lent her a thousand silver drachmæ.
Syrup. Yeah, if you only knew. Oh, that's shocking! Just look at what she's planning. There was an old woman here from Corinth—this Bacchis lent her a thousand silver drachmas.
Chrem. What then?
Chrem. What's next?
Syr. She is now dead: she has left a daughter, a young girl. She has been left with this Bacchis as a pledge for that sum.
Syrup. She is now dead: she has left a daughter, a young girl. She has been left with this Bacchis as a guarantee for that amount.
Chrem. I understand you.
Chrem. I get you.
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Syr. She has brought her hither along with her, her I mean who is now with your wife.70
Syrup. She has brought her here with her, her I mean who is now with your wife.70
Chrem. What then?
Chrem. So, what now?
Syr. She is soliciting Clinia at once to advance her this money; she says, however, that this girl is to be a security, that, at a future time, she will repay the thousand pieces of money.
Syrup. She is asking Clinia right now to give her this money; she says, however, that this girl will serve as collateral, and that she will pay back the thousand pieces of money later.
Syr. Dear me, is it to be doubted? I think so.
Syrup. Oh my, is that really questionable? I believe so.
Chrem. What then do you intend doing?
Chrem. So, what do you plan to do?
Syr. What, I? I shall go to Menedemus; I’ll tell him she is a captive from Caria, rich, and of noble family; if he redeems her, there will be a considerable profit in this transaction.
Syrup. What, me? I’m going to go see Menedemus; I’ll let him know she’s a prisoner from Caria, wealthy, and from a noble family; if he buys her freedom, there’s going to be a good profit in this deal.
Chrem. You are in an error.
Chrem. You're mistaken.
Syr. Why so?
Syr. Why's that?
Chrem. I’ll now answer you for Menedemus—I will not purchase her.
Chrem. I’ll now respond regarding Menedemus—I’m not buying her.
Syr. What is it you say? Do speak more agreeably to our wishes.
Syrup. What are you saying? Please express yourself in a way that aligns better with our wishes.
Chrem. But there is no occasion.
Chrem. But there's no reason.
Syr. No occasion?
No event?
Chrem. Certainly not, i’ faith.
Chrem. Definitely not, I swear.
Syr. How so, I wonder?
Syr. How's that, I wonder?
Chrem. You shall soon know.72
Chrem. You'll find out soon.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
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Syr. Stop, stop; what is the reason that there is such a great noise at our door?
Syrup. Hold on, hold on; what's causing all this noise at our door?
They retire out of sight.
They retire out of view.
ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Enter Sostrata and a Nurse in haste from the house of Chremes, and Chremes and Syrus on the other side of the stage unperceived.
Enter Sostrata and a Nurse rushing out of the house of Chremes, while Chremes and Syrus stand on the other side of the stage unnoticed.
Sos. (holding up a ring and examining it.) Unless my fancy deceives me, surely this is the ring which I suspect it to be, the same with which my daughter was exposed.
S.O.S. (holding up a ring and examining it.) Unless I'm mistaken, this must be the ring I think it is, the same one my daughter was left with.
Chrem. (apart.) Syrus, what is the meaning of these expressions?
Chrem. (aside.) Syrus, what do these expressions mean?
Sos. Nurse, how is it? Does it not seem to you the same?
SOS. Nurse, how is it? Doesn't it seem the same to you?
Nur. As for me, I said it was the same the very instant that you showed it me.
Nur. For me, I said it was the same the moment you showed it to me.
Sos. But have you now examined it thoroughly, my dear nurse?
SOS. But have you really looked it over carefully, my dear nurse?
Nur. Thoroughly.
Nur. Completely.
Sos. Then go in-doors at once, and if she has now done bathing, bring me word. I’ll wait here in the mean time for my husband.
SOS. Then go inside right away, and if she’s finished bathing, let me know. I’ll wait here for my husband in the meantime.
Syr. (apart.) She wants you, see what it is she wants; she is in a serious mood, I don’t know why; it is not without a cause—I fear what it may be.
Syrup. (apart.) She wants you, so see what it is she wants; she’s in a serious mood, and I don’t know why; it’s not without a reason—I’m worried about what it might be.
Chrem. What it may be? I’ faith, she’ll now surely be announcing some important trifle, with a great parade.
Chrem. What could it be? I swear, she’s definitely about to reveal some minor thing, making a big deal out of it.
Sos. (turning round.) Ha! my husband!
Sos. (turning around.) Ha! my husband!
Chrem. Ha! my wife!
Chrem. Ha! my partner!
Sos. I was looking for you.
Sos. I’ve been searching for you.
Chrem. Tell me what you want.
Chrem. Tell me what you need.
Sos. In the first place, this I beg of you, not to believe that I have ventured to do any thing contrary to your commands.
SOS. First of all, I ask you not to think that I've done anything against your orders.
Chrem. Would you have me believe you in this, although so incredible? Well, I will believe you.
Chrem. Would you have me believe you in this, even though it's hard to accept? Alright, I will believe you.
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Syr. (aside.) This excuse portends I know not what offense.
Syrup. (aside.) This excuse suggests I have no idea what wrongdoing is coming.
Sos. Do you remember me being pregnant, and yourself declaring to me, most peremptorily, that if I should bring forth a girl, you would not have it brought up.
SOS. Do you remember when I was pregnant and you insisted that if I had a girl, you wouldn’t let her be raised?
Chrem. I know what you have done, you have brought it up.
Chrem. I know what you did, you’ve brought it up.
Syr. (aside.) Such is the fact, I’m sure: my young master has gained a loss73 in consequence.
Syrup. (aside.) That's the truth, I’m sure: my young master has suffered a loss73 because of it.
Sos. Not at all; but there was here an elderly woman of Corinth, of no indifferent character; to her I gave it to be exposed.
SOS. Not at all; but there was an elderly woman from Corinth, who had quite a strong personality; I gave it to her to take care of.
Chrem. O Jupiter! that there should be such extreme folly in a person’s mind.
Chrem. Oh Jupiter! Can there really be such ridiculous foolishness in a person's mind?
Sos. Alas! what have I done?
Sos. Oh no! What have I done?
Chrem. And do you ask the question?
Chrem. So, are you asking the question?
Sos. If I have acted wrong, my dear Chremes, I have done so in ignorance.
SOS. If I’ve done something wrong, my dear Chremes, I did it without knowing.
Chrem. This, indeed, I know for certain, even if you were to deny it, that in every thing you both speak and act ignorantly and foolishly: how many blunders you disclose in this single affair! For, in the first place, then, if you had been disposed to obey my orders, the child ought to have been dispatched; you ought not in words to have feigned her death, and in reality to have left hopes of her surviving. But that I pass over; compassion, maternal affection, I allow it. But how finely you did provide for the future! What was your meaning? Do reflect. It’s clear, beyond a doubt, that your daughter was betrayed by you to this old woman, either that through you she might make a living by her, or that she might be sold in open market as a slave. I suppose you reasoned thus: “any thing is enough, if only her life is saved:” what are you to do with those who understand neither law, nor right and justice? Be it for better or for worse, be it for them or against them, they see nothing except just what they please.
Chrem. I know for sure, even if you deny it, that everything you say and do is ignorant and foolish: just look at how many mistakes you’ve made in this one situation! First off, if you had been willing to follow my orders, the child should have been sent away; you shouldn’t have pretended she was dead with your words while leaving hope that she might still be alive. But I’ll let that slide; I understand compassion and maternal love. But how well did you plan for the future! What were you thinking? Seriously, think about it. It’s clear, without a doubt, that you betrayed your daughter to this old woman, either so she could work for her or so she could be sold on the open market as a slave. I guess you thought, “anything is enough as long as her life is saved.” But what do you do with those who don’t understand law, right, or justice? Be it for better or for worse, whether for them or against them, they see nothing except what they want to see.
Sos. My dear Chremes, I have done wrong, I own; I am convinced. Now this I beg of you; inasmuch as you are 171 more advanced in years than I, be so much the more ready to forgive; so that your justice may be some protection for my weakness.
SOS. My dear Chremes, I admit I’ve made a mistake; I realize that now. Please, since you’re older than I am, be more willing to forgive me; let your fairness provide some support for my shortcomings.
Chrem. I’ll readily forgive you doing this, of course; but, Sostrata, my easy temper prompts you to do amiss. But, whatever this circumstance is, by reason of which this was begun upon, proceed to tell it.
Chrem. I’ll gladly forgive you for this, of course; but, Sostrata, my laid-back attitude makes you act wrongly. But whatever this situation is that led to this, please go ahead and explain it.
Sos. As we women are all foolishly and wretchedly superstitious, when I delivered the child to her to be exposed, I drew a ring from off my finger, and ordered her to expose it, together with the child; that if she should die, she might not be without74 some portion of our possessions.
SOS. Since we women are all foolishly and pitifully superstitious, when I gave the child to her to be abandoned, I took a ring off my finger and told her to leave it with the child; that if she were to die, she wouldn’t be without74 some part of our belongings.
Chrem. That was right; thereby you proved the saving of yourself and her.75
Chrem. That was correct; thus you demonstrated that you saved both yourself and her.75
Sos. (holding out the ring.) This is that ring.
Help. (holding out the ring.) This is the ring.
Chrem. Whence did you get it?
Chrem. Where did you get it?
Sos. From the young woman whom Bacchis brought here with her.
SOS. From the young woman whom Bacchis brought here with her.
Syr. (aside.) Ha!
Syr. (aside.) Haha!
Chrem. What does she say?
Chrem. What does she mean?
Sos. She gave it me to keep for her, while she went to bathe. At first I paid no attention to it; but after I looked at it, I at once recognized it, and came running to you.
SOS. She gave it to me to hold for her while she went to take a bath. At first, I didn't pay any attention to it; but after I looked at it, I recognized it immediately and came running to you.
Chrem. What do you suspect now, or have you discovered, relative to her?
Chrem. What do you think now, or have you found out, about her?
Sos. I don’t know; unless you inquire of herself whence she got it, if that can possibly be discovered.
Help. I don’t know; unless you ask her where she got it, if that can even be figured out.
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Syr. (aside.) I’m undone! I see more hopes76 from this incident than I desire. If it is so, she certainly must be ours.
Syrup. (aside.) I can't take it anymore! I see more hopes76 from this situation than I want. If that's the case, she definitely has to be ours.
Chrem. Is this woman living to whom you delivered the child?
Chrem. Is this woman you gave the child to?
Sos. I don’t know.
Sos. I have no idea.
Chrem. What account did she bring you at the time?
Chrem. What did she tell you back then?
Sos. That she had done as I had ordered her.
SOS. That she had done what I told her to do.
Chrem. Tell me what is the woman’s name, that she may be inquired after.
Chrem. Tell me the woman's name so that she can be looked for.
Sos. Philtere.
Sos. Philtere.
Syr. (aside.) ’Tis the very same. It’s a wonder if she isn’t found, and I lost.
Syrup. (aside.) It's exactly the same. It's surprising if she isn’t found, and I’m lost.
Chrem. Sostrata, follow me this way in-doors.
Chrem. Sostrata, join me inside.
Sos. How much beyond my hopes has this matter turned out! How dreadfully afraid I was, Chremes, that you would now be of feelings as unrelenting as formerly you were on exposing the child.
SOS. How far beyond my expectations has this situation turned out! I was so afraid, Chremes, that you would still have the same harsh feelings you had before about the child.
Chrem. Many a time a man can not be77 such as he would be, if circumstances do not admit of it. Time has now so brought it about, that I should be glad of a daughter; formerly I wished for nothing less.
Chrem. Many times a man cannot be77 what he wants to be if the circumstances don’t allow it. Now, things have changed, and I would be happy to have a daughter; in the past, I wanted nothing less.
Chremes and Sostrata go into the house.
Chremes and Sostrata enter the house.
Scene II.
Syrus alone.
Syrus by himself.
Syr. Unless my fancy deceives me,78 retribution79 will not 173 be very, far off from me; so much by this incident are my forces now utterly driven into straits; unless I contrive by some means that the old man mayn’t come to know that this damsel is his son’s mistress. For as to entertaining any hopes about the money, or supposing I could cajole him, it’s useless; I shall be sufficiently triumphant, if I’m allowed to escape with my sides covered.80 I’m vexed that such a tempting morsel has been so suddenly snatched away from my jaws. What am I to do? Or what shall I devise? I must begin upon my plan over again. Nothing is so difficult, but that it may be found out by seeking. What now if I set about it after this fashion. (He considers.) That’s of no use. What, if after this fashion? I effect just about the same. But this I think will do. It can not. Yes! excellent. Bravo! I’ve found out the best of all—I’ faith, I do believe that after all I shall lay hold of this same runaway money.81
Syrup. Unless I'm mistaken, 78 retribution 79 won't be far off; this incident has pushed my forces into a tight spot. I need to think of a way to keep the old man from finding out that this girl is his son's mistress. As for hoping for money or thinking I could sweet-talk him, that's pointless; I’ll be happy if I can just get away without a serious consequence.80 I'm frustrated that such a tempting opportunity was taken away so quickly. What should I do? What can I come up with? I have to start my plan over. Nothing is too difficult if you look for it. What if I try it this way? (He thinks.) That won't work. What if I try it another way? I get about the same results. But I think this will work. No, it can't. Yes! Perfect. Awesome! I’ve figured out the best approach—I truly believe that I will still get my hands on that runaway money.81
Scene III.
Enter Clinia at the other side of the stage.
Enter Clinia from the other side of the stage.
Clin. (to himself.) Nothing can possibly henceforth befall 174 me of such consequence as to cause me uneasiness; so extreme is this joy that has surprised me. Now then I shall give myself up entirely to my father, to be more frugal than even he could wish.
Clinic. (to himself.) Nothing that happens from now on can possibly matter enough to make me feel uneasy; this joy that has caught me off guard is so overwhelming. So now, I will fully dedicate myself to my father, being more careful with my resources than even he could hope for.
Syr. (apart.) I wasn’t mistaken; she has been discovered, so far as I understand from these words of his. (Advancing.) I am rejoiced that this matter has turned out for you so much to your wish.
Syrup. (apart.) I wasn’t wrong; she has been found out, from what I gather from his words. (Advancing.) I’m glad this situation has worked out so well for you.
Clin. O my dear Syrus, have you heard of it, pray?
Clinic. Oh my dear Syrus, have you heard about it, please?
Syr. How shouldn’t I, when I was present all the while?
Syrup. How could I not, when I was there the whole time?
Clin. Did you ever hear of any thing falling out so fortunately for any one?
Clinic. Did you ever hear of anything happening so perfectly for someone?
Syr. Never.
Syr. Nope.
Clin. And, so may the Gods prosper me, I do not now rejoice so much on my own account as hers, whom I know to be deserving of any honor.
Clin. And, may the Gods help me, I don’t rejoice as much for myself as I do for her, who I know deserves every honor.
Syr. I believe it: but now, Clinia, come, attend to me in my turn. For your friend’s business as well,—it must be seen to—that it is placed in a state of security, lest the old gentleman should now come to know any thing about his mistress.
Syrup. I believe you: but now, Clinia, listen to me for a moment. Regarding your friend’s situation, it needs to be handled—make sure it’s secured, so that the old man doesn’t find out anything about his girlfriend.
Clin. O Jupiter!
O Jupiter!
Syr. Do be quiet.
Syr. Please be quiet.
Clin. My Antiphila will be mine.
Clin. My Antiphila will be mine.
Syr. Do you still interrupt me thus?
Do you still interrupt me like this?
Clin. What can I do? My dear Syrus, I’m transported with joy! Do bear with me.
Clin. What can I say? My dear Syrus, I'm filled with joy! Please be patient with me.
Syr. I’ faith, I really do bear with you.
Syrup. Honestly, I really do put up with you.
Clin. We are blest with the life of the Gods.
Clin. We are blessed with a life like the Gods.
Syr. I’m taking pains to no purpose, I doubt.
Syrup. I’m putting in a lot of effort for nothing, I think.
Clin. Speak; I hear you.
Clin. Talk; I’m listening.
Syr. But still you’ll not mind it.
Syrup. But you won't care about it.
Clin. I will.
I will.
Syr. This must be seen to, I say, that your friend’s business as well is placed in a state of security. For if you now go away from us, and leave Bacchis here, our old man will immediately come to know that she is Clitipho’s mistress; if you take her away with you, it will be concealed just as much as it has been hitherto concealed.
Syrup. This needs to be handled, I'm telling you, so that your friend's situation is secure too. Because if you leave us now and leave Bacchis here, our old man will find out right away that she is Clitipho's girlfriend; if you take her with you, it will remain hidden just like it has been until now.
Clin. But still, Syrus, nothing can make more against my 175 marriage than this; for with what face am I to address my father about it? You understand what I mean?
Clin. But still, Syrus, nothing can work more against my 175 marriage than this; because how can I even talk to my dad about it? You get what I mean?
Syr. Why not?
Syr. Why not?
Clin. What can I say? What excuse can I make?
Clin. What can I say? What excuse can I come up with?
Syr. Nay, I don’t want you to dissemble; tell him the whole case just as it really is.
Syrup. No, I don’t want you to hold back; tell him everything just as it truly is.
Clin. What is it you say?
Clin. What did you say?
Syr. I bid you do this; tell him that you are in love with her, and want her for a wife: that this Bacchis is Clitipho’s mistress.
Syrup. I urge you to do this; tell him that you love her and want to marry her: that this Bacchis is Clitipho’s girlfriend.
Clin. You require a thing that is fair and reasonable, and easy to be done. And I suppose, then, you would have me request my father to keep it a secret from your old man.
Clinic. You need something that's fair and reasonable, and easy to do. So I guess you want me to ask my dad to keep it a secret from your guy.
Syr. On the contrary; to tell him directly the matter just as it is.
Syrup. On the contrary; to tell him plainly what it is.
Clin. What? Are you quite in your senses or sober? Why, you were for ruining him outright. For how could he be in a state of security? Tell me that.
Clin. What? Are you really in your right mind? You were about to completely destroy him. How could he possibly feel secure? Tell me that.
Syr. For my part, I yield the palm to this device. Here I do pride myself exultingly, in having in myself such exquisite resources, and power of address so great, as to deceive them both by telling the truth: so that when your old man tells ours that she is his son’s mistress, he’ll still not believe him.
Syrup. For my part, I give credit to this plan. I take pride in having such impressive skills and the ability to speak so well that I can fool them both by telling the truth: so that when your father tells ours that she is his son’s mistress, he still won’t believe him.
Clin. But yet, by these means you again cut off all hopes of my marriage; for as long as Chremes believes that she is my mistress, he’ll not give me his daughter. Perhaps you care little what becomes of me, so long as you provide for him.
Clinic. But still, by doing this, you completely destroy any chance I have of getting married; as long as Chremes thinks she’s my mistress, he won’t let me marry his daughter. Maybe you don’t care what happens to me, as long as you take care of him.
Syr. What the plague, do you suppose I want this pretense to be kept up for an age? ’Tis but for a single day, only till I have secured the money: you be quiet; I ask no more.
Syrup. What the hell do you think I want to keep this act going for forever? It's just for one day, only until I get the money: you be quiet; I just want that much.
Clin. Is that sufficient? If his father should come to know of it, pray, what then?
Clinic. Is that enough? If his father finds out about it, what happens then?
Syr. What if I have recourse to those who say, “What now if the sky were to fall?”82
Syrup. What if I turn to those who say, “What if the sky were to fall?”82
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Clin. I’m afraid to go about it.
Clin. I'm scared to deal with it.
Syr. You, afraid! As if it was not in your power to clear yourself at any time you like, and discover the whole matter.
Syrup. You, scared! As if you couldn't clear your name whenever you wanted and find out the entire truth.
Clin. Well, well; let Bacchis be brought over to our house.
Clin. Well, well; let’s bring Bacchis over to our house.
Syr. Capital! she is coming out of doors.
Syr. Capital! She's stepping outside.
Scene IV.
Enter Bacchis and Phrygia, from the house of Chremes.
Enter Bacchis and Phrygia, from the house of Chremes.
Bacch. (pretending not to see Clinia and Syrus.) To a very fine purpose,83 upon my faith, have the promises of Syrus brought me hither, who agreed to lend me ten minæ. If now he deceives me, oft as he may entreat me to come, he shall come in vain. Or else, when I’ve promised to come, and fixed the time, when he has carried word back for certain, and Clitipho is on the stretch of expectation, I’ll disappoint him and not come. Syrus will make atonement to me with his back.
Bacchus. (pretending not to see Clinia and Syrus.) For a really good reason, I swear, the promises from Syrus have brought me here, who said he would lend me ten minæ. If he tricks me now, no matter how often he asks me to come, it'll be a waste of time for him. Or, even after I’ve agreed to come and set the time, after he confirms it, and Clitipho is eagerly waiting, I’ll let him down and not show up. Syrus better make it up to me through some serious effort.
Clin. (apart, to Syrus.) She promises you very fairly.
Clin. (aside, to Syrus.) She makes you a very good promise.
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Syr. (to Clinia.) But do you think she is in jest? She’ll do it, if I don’t take care.
Syrup. (to Clinia.) But do you really think she's joking? She'll go for it if I don't watch out.
Bacch. (aside.) They’re asleep84—I’faith, I’ll rouse them. (Aloud.) My dear Phrygia, did you hear about the country-seat of Charinus, which that man was showing us just now?
Bacchus. (aside.) They’re asleep84—I swear, I’ll wake them up. (Aloud.) My dear Phrygia, did you hear about Charinus's country house that guy was just telling us about?
Phry. I heard of it.
Phry. I've heard of it.
Bacch. (aloud.) That it was the next to the farm here on the right-hand side.85
Bacchus. (aloud.) That it was the one next to the farm here on the right. 85
Phry. I remember.
Phry. I remember that.
Bacch. (aloud) Run thither post-haste; the Captain is keeping the feast of Bacchus86 at his house.
Bacchus. (aloud) Run over there quickly; the Captain is hosting the Bacchus feast86 at his place.
Syr. (apart.) What is she going to be at?
Syrup. (apart.) What is she up to?
Bacch. (aloud.) Tell him I am here very much against my inclination, and am detained; but that by some means or other I’ll give them the slip and come to him.
Bacchus. (aloud.) Tell him I'm here, totally against my will, and stuck here; but somehow, I'll find a way to escape and come to him.
Phrygia moves.
Phrygia is on the move.
Syr. (coming forward.) Upon my faith, I’m ruined! Bacchis, stay, stay; prithee, where are you sending her? Order her to stop.
Syrup. (coming forward.) Honestly, I’m finished! Bacchis, wait, wait; please, where are you taking her? Tell her to stop.
Bacch. (to Phrygia.) Be off.
Bacch. (to Phrygia.) Go away.
Syr. Why, the money’s ready.
Syr. The money's ready.
Bacch. Why, then I’ll stay.
Bacch. Then I’ll stay.
Phrygia returns.
Phrygia is back.
Syr. And it will be given you presently.
Syrup. And you will receive it soon.
Bacch. Just when you please; do I press you?
Bacchus. Do I pressure you at all, or can you do this whenever you want?
Syr. But do you know what you are to do, pray?
Syrup. But do you know what you're supposed to do, please?
Bacch. What?
Bacch. Huh?
Syr. You must now go over to the house of Menedemus, and your equipage must be taken over thither.
Syrup. You need to head over to Menedemus's house, and your belongings should be taken there.
Bacch. What scheme are you upon, you rascal?
Bacch. What are you up to, you rascal?
Syr. What, I? Coining money to give you.
Syrup. What, me? Making money to give you.
Bacch. Do you think me a proper person for you to play upon?
Bacchus. Do you think I'm the right person for you to mess with?
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Syr. It’s not without a purpose.
Syr. It’s not without reason.
Bacch. (pointing to the house.) Why, have I any business then with you here?
Bacchus. (pointing to the house.) So, do I have any reason to be here with you?
Syr. O no; I’m only going to give you what’s your own.
Syrup. Oh no; I’m just going to give you what belongs to you.
Bacch. Then let’s be going.87
Bacch. Then let’s go.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Syr. Follow this way. (Goes to the door of Menedemus, and calls.) Ho there! Dromo.
Syracuse. Come this way. (Goes to the door of Menedemus and calls.) Hey! Dromo.
Enter Dromo from the house.
Enter Dromo from the house.
Dro. Who is it wants me?
Dro. Who's looking for me?
Syr. Syrus.
Syrus.
Dro. What’s the matter?
Dro. What's wrong?
Syr. Take over all the attendants of Bacchis to your house here immediately.
Syrup. Bring all of Bacchis's attendants to your place right away.
Dro. Why so?
Dro. Why is that?
Syr. Ask no questions. Let them take what they brought here with them. The old gentleman will hope his expenses are lightened by their departure; for sure he little knows how much loss this trifling gain will bring him. You, Dromo, if you are wise, know nothing of what you do know.
Syrup. Don't ask any questions. Let them take what they brought with them. The old man will probably hope that his costs decrease with their leaving; but he has no idea how much this small benefit will end up costing him. You, Dromo, if you're smart, should pretend you don't know anything about what you actually do know.
Dro. You shall own that I’m dumb.
Dro. You have to admit that I’m not very bright.
Clinia, Bacchis, and Phrygia go into the house of Menedemus, and Dromo follows with Bacchis’s retinue and baggage.
Clinia, Bacchis, and Phrygia go into Menedemus's house, and Dromo follows with Bacchis's group and luggage.
Scene V.
Enter Chremes from his house.
Enter Chremes from his home.
Chrem. (to himself.) So may the Deities prosper me, I am now concerned for the fate of Menedemus, that so great a misfortune should have befallen him. To be maintaining that woman with such a retinue! Although I am well aware he’ll not be sensible of it for some days to come, his son was so greatly missed by him; but when he sees such a vast expense incurred by him every day at home, and no limit to 179 it, he’ll wish that this son would leave him a second time. See—here comes Syrus most opportunely.
Chrem. (to himself.) I really hope the gods help me. I'm worried about Menedemus. It's a real shame what has happened to him. Supporting that woman and all her followers! I know he won't realize it for a few days, since he really misses his son. But once he sees the huge expenses piling up every day at home with no end in sight, he'll probably wish that son would leave him again. Look—here comes Syrus at the perfect time.
Syr. (to himself, as he comes forward.) Why delay to accost him?
Syrup. (to himself, as he approaches.) Why wait to talk to him?
Chrem. Syrus.
Chrem. Syrus.
Syr. Well.
Syr. Okay.
Chrem. How go matters?
Chrem. How are things going?
Syr. I’ve been wishing for some time for you to be thrown in my way.
Syrup. I've been hoping for a while that you'd come my way.
Chrem. You seem, then, to have effected something, I know not what, with the old gentleman.
Chrem. So it looks like you've managed to do something, though I have no idea what, with the old man.
Syr. As to what we were talking of a short time since? No sooner said than done.
Syrup. About what we were discussing a little while ago? No sooner said than done.
Chrem. In real earnest?
Chrem. Seriously?
Syr. In real.
Syr. For real.
Chrem. Upon my faith, I can not forbear patting your head for it. Come here, Syrus; I’ll do you some good turn for this matter, and with pleasure. (Patting his head.)
Chrem. Honestly, I just can't help but pat your head for it. Come here, Syrus; I'll do something nice for you because of this, and it'll be my pleasure. (Patting his head.)
Syr. But if you knew how cleverly it came into my head——
Syrup. But if you knew how smartly it popped into my mind——
Chrem. Pshaw! Do you boast because it has turned out according to your wishes?
Chrem. Come on! Are you really bragging just because things went your way?
Syr. On my word, not I, indeed; I am telling the truth.
Syrup. I swear, it's not me; I’m being honest.
Chrem. Tell me how it is.
Chrem. Tell me what’s up.
Syr. Clinia has told Menedemus, that this Bacchis is your Clitipho’s mistress, and that he has taken her thither with him in order that you might not come to know of it.
Syrup. Clinia has told Menedemus that this Bacchis is Clitipho's girlfriend, and that he has taken her there with him so that you wouldn't find out.
Chrem. Very good.
Chrem. Awesome.
Syr. Tell me, please, what you think of it.
Syrup. Can you tell me what you think about it?
Chrem. Extremely good, I declare.
Chrem. Really good, I say.
Syr. Why yes, pretty fair. But listen, what a piece of policy still remains. He is then to say that he has seen your daughter—that her beauty charmed him as soon as he beheld her; and that he desires her for a wife.
Syrup. Yes, pretty good. But listen, there's still a bit of strategy left. He should say that he has seen your daughter—that her beauty captivated him the moment he saw her; and that he wants her for a wife.
Chrem. What, her that has just been discovered?
Chrem. What, the one who was just found?
Syr. The same; and, in fact, he’ll request that she may be asked for.
Syrup. Exactly; and, in fact, he’ll ask that she be contacted.
Chrem. For what purpose, Syrus? For I don’t altogether comprehend it.
Chrem. What’s the point, Syrus? I don’t really understand it.
Syr. O dear, you are so dull.
Syr. Oh no, you are so boring.
Chrem. Perhaps so.
Chrem. Maybe.
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Syr. Money will be given him for the wedding—with which golden trinkets and clothes——do you understand me?
Syrup. He will get money for the wedding—along with gold jewelry and clothes—do you get what I mean?
Chrem. To buy them——?
Chrem. To purchase them——?
Syr. Just so.
Syr. Exactly.
Chrem. But I neither give nor betroth my daughter to him.
Chrem. But I'm not giving or betrothing my daughter to him.
Syr. But why?
Syr. But why not?
Chrem. Why, do you ask me? To a fellow——
Chrem. Why are you asking me? To a buddy——
Syr. Just as you please. I don’t mean that in reality you should give her to him, but that you should pretend it.
Syrup. Do whatever you want. I don’t mean that you should actually give her to him, but that you should act like you will.
Chrem. Pretending is not in my way; do you mix up these plots of yours, so as not to mix me up in them. Do you think that I’ll betroth my daughter to a person to whom I will not marry her?
Chrem. I'm not into pretending; do you really think you can twist these plots of yours without getting me involved in them? Do you honestly believe that I would arrange my daughter's marriage to someone I'm not even willing to marry her myself?
Syr. I imagined so.
Syr. I figured as much.
Chrem. By no means.
Chrem. No way.
Syr. It might have been cleverly managed; and I undertook this affair for the very reason, that a short time since you so urgently requested it.
Syrup. It could have been handled smartly; and I took on this task because not long ago you asked me to do it so insistently.
Chrem. I believe you.
Chrem. I trust you.
Syr. But for my part, Chremes, I take it well and good, either way.
Syrup But as for me, Chremes, I’m okay with it, either way.
Chrem. But still, I especially wish you to do your best for it to be brought about; but in some other way.
Chrem. But still, I really want you to do your best to make it happen; just in a different way.
Syr. It shall be done: some other method must be thought of; but as to what I was telling you of,—about the money which she owes to Bacchis,—that must now be repaid her. And you will not, of course, now be having recourse to this method; “What have I to do with it? Was it lent to me? Did I give any orders? Had she the power to pawn my daughter without my consent?” They quote that saying, Chremes, with good reason, “Rigorous law88 is often rigorous injustice.”
Syrup. It will be done: we need to come up with another approach; but regarding what I mentioned about the money she owes Bacchis, that needs to be paid back now. And, of course, you won’t be using this method; “What does it have to do with me? Was it lent to me? Did I give any instructions? Did she have the authority to pawn my daughter without my approval?” They rightly quote Chremes, “Strict law is often strict injustice.”
Chrem. I will not do so.
Chrem. I won't do that.
Syr. On the contrary, though others were at liberty, you are not at liberty; all think that you are in good and very easy circumstances.
Syrup. On the contrary, while others are free, you are not; everyone believes that you're in a good and very comfortable situation.
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Chrem. Nay rather, I’ll at once carry it to her myself.
Chrem. No, I’ll take it to her myself right now.
Syr. Why no; request your son in preference.
Syrup. No, I suggest you ask your son instead.
Chrem. For what reason?
Chrem. Why is that?
Syr. Why, because the suspicion of being in love with her has been transferred to him with Menedemus.
Syracuse Because people think he's in love with her because of what Menedemus said.
Chrem. What then?
Chrem. So what now?
Syr. Because it will seem to be more like probability when he gives it her; and at the same time I shall effect more easily what I wish. Here he comes too; go, and bring out the money.
Syrup. It'll seem more believable when he gives it to her; plus, it'll make it easier for me to get what I want. Here he comes; go, and get the money.
Chrem. I’ll bring it.
Chrem. I'll get it.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
Scene VI.
Enter Clitipho.
Enter Clitipho.
Clit. (to himself.) There is nothing so easy but that it becomes difficult when you do it with reluctance. As this walk of mine, for instance, though not fatiguing, it has reduced me to weariness. And now I dread nothing more than that I should be packed off somewhere hence once again, that I may not have access to Bacchis. May then all the Gods and Goddesses, as many as exist, confound you, Syrus, with these stratagems and plots of yours. You are always devising something of this kind, by means of which to torture me.
Clitoris. (to himself.) There's nothing so easy that it doesn't become hard when you do it unwillingly. Like this walk of mine, even though it isn't tiring, it's made me feel exhausted. And now, there's nothing I dread more than being sent away again, away from Bacchis. May all the Gods and Goddesses, however many there are, mess you up, Syrus, with all your schemes and tricks. You're always coming up with something like this to torment me.
Syr. Will you not away with you—to where you deserve? How nearly had your forwardness proved my ruin!
Syrup. Will you not leave—going to where you belong? Your boldness almost led to my downfall!
Clit. Upon my faith, I wish it had been so; just what you deserve.
Clitoris. Honestly, I wish it had been so; it's exactly what you deserve.
Syr. Deserve? How so? Really, I’m glad that I’ve heard this from you before you had the money which I was just going to give you.
Syr. Deserve? How’s that? Honestly, I’m glad I heard this from you before you got the money that I was about to give you.
Clit. What then would you have me to say to you? You’ve made a fool of me; brought my mistress hither, whom I’m not allowed to touch——
Clitoris. So, what do you want me to say? You’ve made a fool of me; you brought my mistress here, whom I'm not supposed to touch—
Syr. Well, I’m not angry then. But do you know where Bacchis is just now?
Syrup. Well, I’m not angry then. But do you know where Bacchis is right now?
Clit. At our house.
Clit. At our place.
Syr. No.
No.
Clit. Where then?
Clit. Where to?
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Syr. At Clinia’s.
At Clinia's.
Clit. I’m ruined!
Clit. I'm done for!
Syr. Be of good heart; you shall presently carry to her the money that you promised her.
Syrup. Stay positive; you'll soon take her the money you promised.
Clit. You do prate away.—Where from?
Clit. You just talk on.—Where from?
Syr. From your own father.
From your dad.
Clit. Perhaps you are joking with me.
Clitoris. Maybe you’re just kidding around with me.
Syr. The thing itself will prove it.
Syrup. The thing itself will show it.
Clit. Indeed, then, I am a lucky man. Syrus, I do love you from my heart.
Clitoris. Yes, I am a lucky guy. Syrus, I truly love you from the bottom of my heart.
Syr. But your father’s coming out. Take care not to express surprise at any thing, for what reason it is done; give way at the proper moment; do what he orders, and say but little.
Syrup. But your father's coming out. Be careful not to show surprise at anything, no matter the reason behind it; step aside at the right time; follow his orders, and say as little as possible.
Scene VII.
Enter Chremes from the house, with a bag of money.
Enter Chremes from the house, carrying a bag of money.
Chrem. Where’s Clitipho now?
Chrem. Where's Clitipho now?
Syr. (aside to Clitipho.) Say—here I am.
Say—here I am.
Clit. Here am I.
I'm here.
Chrem. (to Syrus.) Have you told him how it is?
Chrem. (to Syrus.) Did you let him know what's going on?
Syr. I’ve told him pretty well every thing.
Syrup. I’ve told him just about everything.
Chrem. Take this money, and carry it. (Holding out the bag.)
Chrem Take this cash and carry it. (Holding out the bag.)
Syr. (aside to Clitipho.) Go—why do you stand still, you stone; why don’t you take it?
Syrup. (aside to Clitipho.) Come on—why are you just standing there, you statue; why don’t you take it?
Clit. Very well, give it me. (Receives the bag.)
Clitoris. Alright, hand it over. (Takes the bag.)
Syr. (to Clitipho.) Follow me this way directly. (To Chremes.) You in the mean while will wait here for us till we return; for there’s no occasion for us to stay there long.
Syrup. (to Clitipho.) Follow me right this way. (To Chremes.) You just wait here for us until we get back; we won’t be gone long.
Clitipho and Syrus go into the house of Menedemus.
Clitipho and Syrus enter Menedemus's house.
Chrem. (to himself.) My daughter, in fact, has now had ten minæ from me, which I consider as paid for her board; another ten will follow these for clothes; and then she will require two talents for her portion. How many things, both just and unjust, are sanctioned by custom!89 Now I’m 183 obliged, neglecting my business, to look out for some one on whom to bestow my property, that has been acquired by my labor.
Chrem. (to himself.) My daughter has actually received ten minæ from me, which I consider paid for her living expenses; another ten will be for her clothing; and after that, she will need two talents for her dowry. It's amazing how many things, both fair and unfair, are accepted by society! 89 Now I’m 183 forced to pause my work and find someone to whom I can pass on my wealth, which I’ve earned through my hard work.
Scene VIII.
Enter Menedemus from his house.
Enter Menedemus from his home.
Men. (to Clinia within.) My son, I now think myself the happiest of all men, since I find that you have returned to a rational mode of life.
Men. (to Clinia inside.) My son, I now consider myself the happiest of all men, because I see that you have come back to a sensible way of living.
Chrem. (aside.) How much he is mistaken!
Chrem. (aside.) He's so wrong!
Men. Chremes, you are the very person I wanted; preserve, so far as in you lies, my son, myself, and my family.
Guys. Chremes, you’re exactly the person I needed; please do your best to protect my son, myself, and my family.
Chrem. Tell me what you would have me do.
Chrem. Let me know what you want me to do.
Men. You have this day found a daughter.
Guys. Today, you have found a daughter.
Chrem. What then?
Chrem. What's next?
Men. Clinia wishes her to be given him for a wife.
Men. Clinia wants her to be given to him as a wife.
Chrem. Prithee, what kind of a person are you?
Chrem. Please, what kind of person are you?
Men. Why?
Guys. Why?
Chrem. Have you already forgotten what passed between us, concerning a scheme, that by that method some money might be got out of you?
Chrem. Have you already forgotten what we discussed about a plan to get some money from you?
Men. I remember.
Guys. I remember.
Chrem. That self-same thing they are now about.
Chrem. They are doing the exact same thing now.
Men. What do you tell me, Chremes? Why surely, this Courtesan, who is at my house, is Clitipho’s mistress.
Dudes. What do you mean to me, Chremes? Surely, this Courtesan, who is at my place, is Clitipho’s girlfriend.
Chrem. So they say, and you believe it all; and they say that he is desirous of a wife, in order that, when I have betrothed her, you may give him money, with which to provide gold trinkets and clothing, and other things that are requisite.
Chrem. So they say, and you buy into it completely; and they claim that he wants a wife, so that once I've engaged her, you can give him money to get gold jewelry, clothes, and other necessary items.
Men. That is it, no doubt; that money will be given to his mistress.
Men. That's it, no question; that money will go to his girlfriend.
Chrem. Of course it is to be given.
Chrem. Of course it is to be given.
Men. Alas! in vain then, unhappy man, have I been overjoyed; still however, I had rather any thing than be deprived of him. What answer now shall I report from you, Chremes, so that he may not perceive that I have found it out, and take it to heart?
Guys. Oh no! It's been pointless, unfortunate man, that I've been so happy; still, I would rather have anything than lose him. What answer should I bring back from you, Chremes, so he doesn't realize that I've discovered it and feel upset?
Chrem. To heart, indeed! you are too indulgent to him, Menedemus.
Chrem. Seriously! You’re way too easy on him, Menedemus.
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Men. Let me go on; I have now begun: assist me in this throughout, Chremes.
Guys. Let me continue; I have now started: help me with this, Chremes.
Chrem. Say then, that you have seen me, and have treated about the marriage.
Chrem. So, say that you have seen me, and have discussed the marriage.
Men. I’ll say so—what then?
Dudes. I’ll say so—what then?
Chrem. That I will do every thing; that as a son-in-law he meets my approbation; in fine, too, if you like, tell him also that she has been promised him.
Chrem. I will do everything; as a son-in-law, he has my approval; and by the way, if you want, let him know that she has been promised to him.
Men. Well, that’s what I wanted—
Men. Well, that’s what I wanted—
Chrem. That he may the sooner ask of you, and you may as soon as possible give him what you wish.
Chrem. So he can ask you sooner, and you can give him what you want as quickly as possible.
Men. It is my wish.
Men. That's what I want.
Chrem. Assuredly, before very long, according as I view this matter, you’ll have enough of him. But, however that may be, if you are wise, you’ll give to him cautiously, and a little at a time.
Chrem. For sure, pretty soon, from what I see, you’ll get tired of him. But either way, if you’re smart, you’ll give to him carefully and in small amounts.
Men. I’ll do so.
Men. I’ll totally do that.
Chrem. Go in-doors and see how much he requires. I shall be at home, if you should want me for any thing.
Chrem. Go inside and see what he needs. I'll be at home if you need me for anything.
Men. I certainly do want you; for I shall let you know whatever I do.
Guys. I definitely want you; I’ll keep you in the loop about everything I do.
They go into their respective houses.
They go into their own houses.
ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Enter Menedemus from his house.
Enter Menedemus from his home.
Men. (to himself.) I am quite aware that I am not so overwise, or so very quick-sighted; but this assistant, prompter, and director90 of mine, Chremes, outdoes me in that. Any one of those epithets which are applied to a fool is suited to myself, such as dolt, post, ass,91 lump of lead; to him not one can apply; his stupidity surpasses them all.
Guys. (to himself.) I know that I’m not the smartest or the most perceptive person; however, my assistant, prompter, and director90 Chremes is way better at it than I am. Any of the names used for a fool fits me—like idiot, blockhead, donkey,91 lump of lead; but none of those terms can apply to him; his foolishness goes beyond them all.
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Enter Chremes, speaking to Sostrata within.
Enter Chremes, talking to Sostrata inside.
Chrem. Hold now, do, wife, leave off dinning the Gods with thanksgivings that your daughter has been discovered; unless you judge of them by your own disposition, and think that they understand nothing, unless the same thing has been told them a hundred times. But, in the mean time, why does my son linger there so long with Syrus?
Chrem. Hold on a second, wife, stop bothering the Gods with thanks just because our daughter has been found; unless you think they’re like you and don’t get it unless they hear it a hundred times. But in the meantime, why is my son taking so long with Syrus?
Men. What persons do you say are lingering?
Guys. Which people are you saying are hanging around?
Chrem. Ha! Menedemus, you have come opportunely. Tell me, have you told Clinia what I said?
Chrem. Ha! Menedemus, you’ve arrived just in time. Tell me, have you mentioned to Clinia what I said?
Men. Every thing.
Men. Everything.
Chrem. What did he say?
Chrem. What did he say?
Men. He began to rejoice, just like people do who wish to be married.
Men. He started to feel happy, just like people do when they want to get married.
Chrem. (laughing.) Ha! ha! ha!
Chrem. (laughing.) LOL!
Men. Why are you laughing?
Men. Why are you laughing?
Chrem. The sly tricks of my servant, Syrus, just came into my mind.
Chrem. The clever tricks of my servant, Syrus, just came to me.
Men. Did they?
Men. Did they?
Chrem. The rogue can even mould the countenances of people.92
Chrem. The trickster can even change the faces of people.92
Men. That my son is pretending that he is overjoyed, is it that you mean?
Dudes. Do you mean that my son is pretending to be really happy?
Chrem. Just so. (Laughing.)
Chrem. Exactly. (Laughing.)
Men. The very same thing came into my mind.
Guys. The exact same thing crossed my mind.
Chrem. A crafty knave!
Chrem. A clever trickster!
Men. Still more would you think such to be the fact, if you knew more.
Men. You'd definitely believe that's the case if you knew more.
Chrem. Do you say so?
Chrem. Is that what you think?
Men. Do you give attention then?
Guys. Do you pay attention then?
Chrem. Just stop—first I want to know this, what money you have squandered; for when you told your son that she was promised, of course Dromo would at once throw in a word 186 that golden jewels, clothes, and attendants would be needed for the bride, in order that you might give the money.
Chrem. Just hold on—first I want to know what money you’ve wasted; because when you told your son that she was promised, Dromo would definitely have chimed in right away with a suggestion that you’d need golden jewels, clothes, and servants for the bride, so that you would hand over the cash. 186
Men. No.
Guys. No.
Chrem. How, no?
Chrem. What? No way!
Men. No, I tell you.
Guys. No, I’m telling you.
Chrem. Nor yet your son himself?
Chrem. Not even your son himself?
Men. Not in the slightest, Chremes. He was only the more pressing on this one point, that the match might be concluded to-day.
Guys. Not at all, Chremes. He was just more insistent on this one point, that the deal should be finalized today.
Chrem. You say what’s surprising. What did my servant Syrus do? Didn’t even he say any thing?
Chrem. You mention what's surprising. What did my servant Syrus do? Didn't he even say anything?
Men. Nothing at all.
Men. Absolutely nothing.
Chrem. For what reason, I don’t know.
Chrem. I don’t know why.
Men. For my part, I wonder at that, when you know other things so well. But this same Syrus has moulded your son,93 too, to such perfection, that there could not be even the slightest suspicion that she is Clinia’s mistress!
Guys. I find it surprising that you focus on that when you’re well-informed about other matters. But this same Syrus has shaped your son, 93 so perfectly that there could be no doubt that she is not Clinia’s mistress!
Chrem. What do you say?
Chrem. What do you think?
Men. Not to mention, then, their kissing and embracing; that I count nothing.
Guys. And it's not even worth mentioning their kissing and hugging; I don't care about that at all.
Chrem. What more could be done to carry on the cheat?
Chrem. What else could be done to keep the scam going?
Men. Pshaw!
Dudes. Pfft!
Chrem. What do you mean?
What do you mean?
Men. Only listen. In the inner part of my house there is a certain room at the back; into this a bed was brought, and was made up with bed-clothes.
Guys. Just listen. In the back of my house, there’s a certain room; a bed was brought in there, and the bedding was set up.
Chrem. What took place after this?
Chrem. What happened next?
Men. No sooner said than done, thither went Clitipho.
Guys. As soon as it was mentioned, Clitipho went right there.
Chrem. Alone?
Chrem. By yourself?
Men. Alone.
Men. Solo.
Chrem. I’m alarmed.
Chrem. I’m shocked.
Men. Bacchis followed directly.
Men. Bacchis followed close behind.
Chrem. Alone?
Chrem. By yourself?
Men. Alone.
Men. By themselves.
Chrem. I’m undone!
Chrem. I'm done for!
Men. When they had gone into the room, they shut the door.
Guys. When they entered the room, they closed the door.
Chrem. Well—did Clinia see all this going on?
Chrem. So—did Clinia see all this happening?
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Men. How shouldn’t he? He was with me.
Guys. Why wouldn’t he? He was with me.
Chrem. Bacchis is my son’s mistress, Menedemus—I’m undone.
Chrem. Bacchis is my son’s girlfriend, Menedemus—I’m finished.
Men. Why so?
Men. Why's that?
Chrem. I have hardly substance to suffice for ten days.94
Chrem. I barely have enough to last me for ten days.94
Men. What! are you alarmed at it, because he is paying attention to his friend?
Men. What! Are you surprised by this, just because he's being considerate to his friend?
Chrem. His “she-friend” rather.95
Chrem. His “girlfriend” rather.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Men. If he really is paying it.
Guys. If he really is paying it.
Chrem. Is it a matter of doubt to you? Do you suppose that there is any person of so accommodating and tame a spirit as to suffer his own mistress, himself looking on, to—
Chrem. Are you unsure about this? Do you really think there’s anyone so easygoing and submissive that they would let their own partner, while they watch, to—
Men. (chuckling and speaking ironically.) Why not? That I may be imposed upon the more easily.
Guys. (chuckling and speaking ironically.) Why not? So that I can be taken advantage of more easily.
Chrem. Do you laugh at me? You have good reason. How angry I now am with myself! How many things gave proof, whereby, had I not been a stone, I might have been fully sensible of this? What was it I saw? Alas! wretch that I am! But assuredly they shall not escape my vengeance if I live; for this instant—
Chrem Are you laughing at me? You have every reason to. I’m so mad at myself right now! How many signs were there that if I hadn’t been so dense, I might have actually realized this? What was it that I saw? Oh, how miserable I am! But I swear they won't get away from my revenge if I live; for this very moment—
Men. Can you not contain yourself? Have you no respect for yourself? Am I not a sufficient example to you?
Men. Can you not hold back? Don’t you have any self-respect? Am I not a good enough example for you?
Chrem. For very anger, Menedemus, I am not myself.
Chrem. Out of anger, Menedemus, I’m not myself.
Men. For you to talk in that manner! Is it not a shame for you to be giving advice to others, to show wisdom abroad and yet be able to do nothing for yourself?
Men. How can you talk like that! Isn't it ridiculous for you to give advice to others and pretend to be wise and yet be unable to help yourself?
Chrem. What shall I do?
Chrem. What should I do?
Men. That which you said I failed to do: make him sensible that you are his father; make him venture to intrust every thing to you, to seek and to ask of you; so that he may look for no other resources and forsake you.96
Men. What you said I didn’t do: help him understand that you are his father; make him willing to trust you completely, to seek guidance from you, and to ask you for everything; so that he won’t look for other options and won’t abandon you.96
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Chrem. Nay, I had much rather he would go any where in the world, than by his debaucheries here reduce his father to beggary! For if I go on supplying his extravagance, Menedemus, in that case my circumstances will undoubtedly be soon reduced to the level of your rake.
Chrem. No, I would much prefer he go anywhere else in the world than to ruin his father here with his reckless behavior! Because if I keep funding his extravagance, Menedemus, then my situation will surely end up as bad as yours.
Men. What evils you will bring upon yourself in this affair, if you don’t act with caution! You’ll show yourself severe, and still pardon him at last; that too with an ill grace.
Men. What trouble you will bring upon yourself in this situation if you’re not careful! You’ll come off as harsh, and yet still forgive him in the end, and that will be done with a bad attitude.
Chrem. Ah! you don’t know how vexed I am.
Chrem. Ah! You have no idea how frustrated I am.
Men. Just as you please. What about that which I desire—that she may be married to my son? Unless there is any other step that you would prefer.
Males. Do as you wish. What about what I want—that she should marry my son? Unless you have another option in mind.
Chrem. On the contrary, both the son-in-law and the connection are to my taste.
Chrem. On the contrary, I actually like both the son-in-law and the connection.
Men. What portion shall I say that you have named for your daughter? Why are you silent?
Men. What share should I say you’ve set aside for your daughter? Why aren’t you speaking?
Chrem. Portion?
Chrem. Serving?
Men. I say so.
Guys. I say so.
Chrem. Alas!
Chrem. Oh no!
Men. Chremes, don’t be at all afraid to speak, if it is but a small one. The portion is no consideration at all with us.
Men. Chremes, don’t be worried at all to speak, even if it's just a little. The amount doesn’t matter to us at all.
Chrem. I did think that two talents were sufficient, according to my means. But if you wish me to be saved, and my estate and my son, you must say to this effect, that I have settled all my property on her as her portion.
Chrem. I thought that two talents were enough for my situation. But if you want to ensure my safety, along with my estate and my son, you need to state clearly that I have given all my property to her as her share.
Men. What scheme are you upon?
Men. What plan are you on?
Chrem. Pretend that you wonder at this, and at the same time ask him the reason why I do so.
Chrem. Act surprised by this, and at the same time, ask him why I'm doing it.
Men. Why, really, I can’t conceive the reason for your doing so.
Guys. Honestly, I can’t understand why you would do that.
Chrem. Why do I do so? To check his feelings, which are now hurried away by luxury and wantonness, and to bring him down so as not to know which way to turn himself.
Chrem. Why do I do this? To test his feelings, which are now swept away by indulgence and recklessness, and to make him so confused that he doesn’t know which way to turn.
Men. What is your design?
Guys. What’s your plan?
Chrem. Let me alone, and give me leave to have my own way in this matter.
Chrem. Leave me alone, and let me handle this my way.
Men. I do give you leave: is this your desire?
Guys. I'm giving you permission: is this what you want?
Chrem. It is so.
Chrem. That's true.
Men. Then be it so.
Men. Then it's settled.
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Chrem. And now let your son prepare to fetch the bride. The other one shall be schooled in such language as befits children. But Syrus——
Chrem. Now let your son get ready to bring the bride. The other one will be taught in a way that's suitable for kids. But Syrus——
Men. What of him?
Guys. What about him?
Chrem. What? If I live, I will have him so handsomely dressed, so well combed out, that he shall always remember me as long as he lives; to imagine that I’m to be a laughing-stock and a plaything for him! So may the Gods bless me! he would not have dared to do to a widow-woman the things which he has done to me.97
Chrem. What? If I’m still around, I’ll make sure he’s dressed impeccably, his hair perfectly styled, so that he’ll always remember me for as long as he lives; it’s ridiculous to think I’m supposed to be his joke and his toy! May the Gods help me! He wouldn’t have dared to treat a widow the way he’s treated me.97
They go into their respective houses.
They go into their own houses.
Scene II.
Enter Menedemus, with Clitipho and Syrus.
Enter Menedemus, with Clitipho and Syrus.
Clit. Prithee, is it really the fact, Menedemus, that my father can, in so short a space of time, have cast off all the natural affection of a parent for me? For what crime? What so great enormity have I, to my misfortune, committed? Young men generally do the same.
Clitoris. Please, is it really true, Menedemus, that my father can have completely lost all parental affection for me in such a short time? What did I do? What terrible thing have I, unfortunately, done? Young men generally act the same way.
Men. I am aware that this must be much more harsh and severe to you, on whom it falls; but yet I take it no less amiss than you. How it is so I know not, nor can I account for it, except that from my heart I wish you well.
Men. I know this is probably much harsher and tougher for you since you’re the ones affected, but still, I feel just as upset about it as you do. I’m not sure why that is, or how to explain it, except that I truly wish you well.
Clit. Did not you say that my father was waiting here?
Clitoris. Didn't you say that my dad was waiting here?
Enter Chremes from his house.
Enter Chremes from his home.
Men. See, here he is.
Dudes. Look, here he is.
Menedemus goes into his house.
Menedemus enters his house.
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Chrem. Why are you blaming me, Clitipho? Whatever I have done in this matter, I had a view to you and your imprudence. When I saw that you were of a careless disposition, and held the pleasures of the moment of the first importance, and did not look forward to the future, I took measures that you might neither want nor be able to waste this which I have. When, through your own conduct, it was not allowed me to give it you, to whom I ought before all, I had recourse to those who were your nearest relations; to them I have made over and intrusted every thing.98 There you’ll always find a refuge for your folly; food, clothing, and a roof under which to betake yourself.
Chrem. Why are you blaming me, Clitipho? Whatever I've done in this situation was for you and your recklessness. When I noticed that you were careless and prioritized immediate pleasures without considering the future, I took steps to ensure you wouldn't lack or be able to waste what I have. When, due to your own actions, I couldn't give it to you, the one I should have before anyone else, I turned to your closest relatives; to them, I've entrusted everything. 98 You'll always find a place to escape your foolishness there—food, clothing, and a roof over your head.
Clit. Ah me!
Clit. Oh no!
Chrem. It is better than that, you being my heir, Bacchis should possess this estate of mine.
Chrem. It’s better this way; since you’re my heir, Bacchis should own this property of mine.
Syr. (apart.) I’m ruined irrevocably!—Of what mischief have I, wretch that I am, unthinkingly been the cause?
Syrup. (apart.) I'm completely ruined! — What trouble have I, the miserable one, thoughtlessly caused?
Clit. Would I were dead!
Clit. I wish I were dead!
Chrem. Prithee, first learn what it is to live. When you know that, if life displeases you, then try the other.
Chrem. Please, first understand what it means to live. Once you grasp that, if you find life unsatisfying, then consider the alternative.
Syr. Master, may I be allowed——?
Syr. Master, can I be allowed——?
Chrem. Say on.
Chrem. Go ahead.
Syr. But may I safely?
Syr. But can I safely?
Chrem. Say on.
Chrem. Go ahead.
Syr. What injustice or what madness is this, that that in which I have offended, should be to his detriment?
Syrup. What injustice or madness is this, that my mistake should harm him?
Syr. What is your design?
What’s your plan?
Chrem. I am not at all angry either with you (to Syrus), or with you (to Clitipho); nor is it fair that you 191 should be so with me for what I am doing.
Money. I’m not angry at you (to Syrus) or you (to Clitipho); it’s not right for you to be upset with me for what I’m doing. 191 should be so
He goes into his house.
He enters his house.
Syr. He’s gone. I wish I had asked him——
Syrup. He's gone. I wish I had asked him——
Clit. What, Syrus?
Clit. What is it, Syrus?
Syr. Where I am to get my subsistence; he has so utterly cast us adrift. You are to have it, for the present, at your sister’s, I find.
Syrup. Where am I supposed to get my living? He has completely left us helpless. For now, you are to receive it at your sister’s, it seems.
Clit. Has it then come to this pass, Syrus—that I am to be in danger even of starving?
Clitoris. Has it really come to this, Syrus—that I might actually starve?
Syr. So we only live, there’s hope——
Syrup. As long as we’re alive, there’s hope——
Clit. What hope?
Clit. What hope?
Syr. That we shall be hungry enough.
Syrup. That we will be hungry enough.
Clit. Do you jest in a matter so serious, and not give me any assistance with your advice?
Clitoris. Are you joking about something so serious and not offering me any help with your advice?
Syr. On the contrary, I’m both now thinking of that, and have been about it all the time your father was speaking just now; and so far as I can perceive——
Syrup. On the other hand, I've been thinking about that now and I’ve been thinking about it the whole time your father was speaking just now; and as far as I can tell——
Clit. What?
Clit. What’s up?
Syr. It will not be wanting long. (He meditates.)
Syrup. It won't be long now. (He thinks.)
Clit. What is it, then?
Clit. What is it?
Syr. It is this—I think that you are not their son.
Syrup. What I mean is—I don't think you are their son.
Clit. How’s that, Syrus? Are you quite in your senses?
Clitoris. How's that, Syrus? Are you thinking clearly?
Syr. I’ll tell you what’s come into my mind; be you the judge. While they had you alone, while they had no other source of joy more nearly to affect them, they indulged you, they lavished upon you. Now a daughter has been found, a pretense has been found in fact on which to turn you adrift.
Syrup. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking; you decide. While they had you all to themselves and no other source of happiness to rely on, they spoiled you and showered you with affection. Now they’ve found a daughter, and they’ve created an excuse to cast you aside.
Clit. It’s very probable.
Clit. It's highly likely.
Syr. Do you suppose that he is so angry on account of this fault?
Syrup. Do you think he's really that mad about this mistake?
Clit. I do not think so.
Clit. I don't think so.
Syr. Now consider another thing. All mothers are wont to be advocates for their sons when in fault, and to aid them against a father’s severity; ’tis not so here.
Syrup. Now think about this. All mothers usually defend their sons when they’ve done something wrong, and support them against a father's harshness; that’s not the case here.
Clit. You say true; what then shall I now do, Syrus?
Clitoris. You're right; what should I do now, Syrus?
Syr. Question them on this suspicion; mention the matter without reserve; either, if it is not true, you’ll soon bring them both to compassion, or else you’ll soon find out whose son you are.
Syrup. Confront them about this suspicion; bring up the issue openly; if it’s not true, you’ll quickly gain their sympathy, or else you’ll quickly discover whose son you really are.
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Clit. You give good advice; I’ll do so.
Clitoris. You give great advice; I’ll follow it.
He goes into the home of Chremes.
He enters the house of Chremes.
Syr. (to himself.) Most fortunately did this come into my mind. For the less hope the young man entertains, the greater the difficulty with which he’ll bring his father to his own terms. I’m not sure even, that he may not take a wife, and then no thanks for Syrus. But what is this? The old man’s coming out of doors; I’ll be off. What has so far happened, I am surprised at, that he didn’t order me to be carried off from here: now I’ll away to Menedemus here, I’ll secure him as my intercessor; I can put no trust in our old man.
Syrup. (to himself.) It's a good thing I thought of this. The less hope the young guy has, the harder it’ll be for him to convince his dad to agree with him. I’m not even sure he might not end up marrying someone, and then I won’t get any credit for it. But what's this? The old man is coming out of the house; I need to get out of here. I'm actually surprised that he hasn't ordered me to be taken away from here. Now I’m heading over to Menedemus; I’ll get him to help me out; I can’t trust our old man.
Goes into the house of Menedemus.
Enters the house of Menedemus.
Scene III.
Enter Chremes and Sostrata from the house.
Enter Chremes and Sostrata from the house.
Sos. Really, sir, if you don’t take care, you’ll be causing some mischief to your son; and indeed I do wonder at it, my husband, how any thing so foolish could ever come into your head.
SOS. Honestly, sir, if you’re not careful, you’ll end up causing trouble for your son; and I truly wonder, my husband, how anything so silly could ever cross your mind.
Chrem. Oh, you persist in being the woman? Did I ever wish for any one thing in all my life, Sostrata, but that you were my contradicter on that occasion? And yet if I were now to ask you what it is that I have done amiss, or why you act thus, you would not know in what point you are now so obstinately opposing me in your folly.
Chrem. Oh, you keep insisting on being the woman? Did I ever wish for anything in all my life, Sostrata, except for you to disagree with me this time? And yet if I were to ask you what I did wrong, or why you're acting like this, you wouldn't even know why you're so stubbornly going against me in your foolishness.
Sos. I, not know?
Sos. I don’t know?
Chrem. Yes, rather, I should have said you do know; inasmuch as either expression amounts to the same thing.101
Chrem. Yes, actually, I should have said you do know; since both expressions mean the same thing.101
Sos. Alas! you are unreasonable to expect me to be silent in a matter of such importance.
SOS. Unfortunately, it’s unreasonable for you to expect me to stay quiet about something so important.
Chrem. I don’t expect it; talk on then, I shall still do it not a bit the less.
Chrem. I don't expect it; go ahead and talk, and I'll still do it just the same.
Sos. Will you do it?
Sos. Are you going to do it?
Chrem. Certainly.
Chrem. Of course.
Sos. Don’t you see how much evil you will be causing by that course?—He suspects himself to be a foundling.
SOS. Don’t you see how much harm you’ll cause by doing that?—He thinks he might be a foundling.
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193
Chrem. Do you say so?
Chrem. Do you really say that?
Sos. Assuredly it will be so.
Sos. Definitely, that's how it will be.
Chrem. Admit it.
Chrem. Just admit it.
Sos. Hold now—prithee, let that be for our enemies. Am I to admit that he is not my son who really is?
SOS. Hold on—please, let that be for our enemies. Am I supposed to acknowledge that he isn't my son when he actually is?
Chrem. What! are you afraid that you can not prove that he is yours, whenever you please?
Chrem. What! Are you worried that you can't prove he's yours whenever you want?
Chrem. No; but for a reason why it should be much sooner believed—because he is just like you in disposition, you will easily prove that he is your child; for he is exactly like you; why, he has not a single vice left him but you have just the same. Then, besides, no woman could have been the mother of such a son but yourself. But he’s coming out of doors, and how demure! When you understand the matter, you may form your own conclusions.
Chrem. No; but for a reason why it should be much sooner believed—because he is just like you in personality, you will easily prove that he is your child; he is exactly like you; he doesn’t have a single vice that you don’t share. Besides, no woman could have been the mother of such a son but you. But he’s coming outside, and look how shy he is! Once you understand the situation, you can draw your own conclusions.
Scene IV.
Enter Clitipho from the house of Chremes.
Enter Clitipho from the house of Chremes.
Clit. If there ever was any time, mother, when I caused you pleasure, being called your son by your own desire, I beseech you to remember it, and now to take compassion on me in my distress. A thing I beg and request—do discover to me my parents.
Clitoris. If there was ever a time, mom, when I made you happy by being your son, I ask you to remember that and have compassion for me now in my time of need. I urge you—please help me find out who my parents are.
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194
Sos. I conjure you, my son, not to entertain that notion in your mind, that you are another person’s child.
SOS. I urge you, my son, not to think for a moment that you are anyone else's child.
Clit. I am.
I'm Clit.
Sos. Wretch that I am! (Turning to Chremes.) Was it this that you wanted, pray? (To Clitipho.) So may you be the survivor of me and of him, you are my son and his; and henceforth, if you love me, take care that I never hear that speech from you again.
SOS. What a miserable person I am! (Turning to Chremes.) Is this what you wanted, by any chance? (To Clitipho.) As long as you outlive both me and him, since you are my son and his; from now on, if you care about me, make sure I never hear you say that again.
Chrem. But I say, if you fear me, take care how I find these propensities existing in you.
Chrem. But I say, if you’re worried about me, be cautious about how I notice these tendencies in you.
Clit. What propensities?
Clit. What tendencies?
Chrem. If you wish to know, I’ll tell you; being a trifler, an idler, a cheat, a glutton, a debauchee, a spendthrift—Believe me, and believe that you are our son.
Chrem. If you want to know, I’ll tell you; being a slacker, a layabout, a fraud, a glutton, a party animal, a wasteful spender—Trust me, and know that you are our son.
Clit. This is not the language of a parent.
Clitoris. This isn't how a parent would talk.
Chrem. If you had been born from my head, Clitipho, just as they say Minerva was from Jove’s, none the more on that account would I suffer myself to be disgraced by your profligacy.103
Chrem. If you had been born from my head, Clitipho, just like they say Minerva was from Jove’s, I still wouldn’t let myself be ashamed by your reckless behavior. 103
Sos. May the Gods forbid it.
Sos. May the gods prevent it.
Chrem. I don’t know as to the Gods;104 so far as I shall be enabled, I will carefully prevent it. You are seeking that which you possess—parents; that which you are in want of you don’t seek—in what way to pay obedience to a father, and to preserve what he acquired by his industry. That you by trickery should bring before my eyes—I am ashamed to mention the unseemly word in her presence (pointing to Sostrata), but you were not in any degree ashamed to act thus.
Chrem. I can’t speak for the Gods;104 but as far as I can, I will do my best to stop it. You’re looking for something you already have—parents; but you’re not looking for what you really need—how to respect your father and keep what he earned through his hard work. It’s shameful that you would use tricks to confront me—I hesitate to say such an inappropriate word in front of her (pointing to Sostrata), yet you had no shame in behaving this way.
Clit. (aside.) Alas! how thoroughly displeased I now am with myself! How much ashamed! nor do I know how to make a beginning to pacify him.
Clitoris. (aside.) Oh no! I’m so disappointed in myself! I’m so ashamed! I don’t even know how to start making it up to him.
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195
Scene V.
Enter Menedemus from his house.
Enter Menedemus from his home.
Men. (to himself.) Why really, Chremes is treating his son too harshly and too unkindly. I’m come out, therefore, to make peace between them. Most opportunely I see them both.
Men. (to himself.) Honestly, Chremes is being way too hard and unfair to his son. I’ve come out, then, to mediate between them. It’s perfect timing that I see both of them here.
Chrem. Well, Menedemus, why don’t you order my daughter to be sent for, and close with the offer105 of the portion that I mentioned?
Chrem. Well, Menedemus, why don’t you have my daughter summoned and go ahead with the offer I mentioned for her portion?
Sos. My husband, I entreat you not to do it.
SOS. My husband, I'm begging you not to do it.
Clit. Father, I entreat you to forgive me.
Clitoris. Dad, I beg you to forgive me.
Men. Forgive him, Chremes; do let them prevail upon you.
Guys. Please forgive him, Chremes; really let them convince you.
Chrem. Am I knowingly to make my property a present to Bacchis? I’ll not do it.
Chrem Am I really going to give my property to Bacchis as a gift? I won’t do that.
Men. Why, we would not suffer it.
Men. We wouldn't put up with it.
Clit. If you desire me to live, father, do forgive me.
Clitoris. If you want me to live, dad, please forgive me.
Sos. Do, my dear Chremes.
Sos. Go ahead, my dear Chremes.
Men. Come, Chremes, pray, don’t be so obdurate.
Men. Come on, Chremes, please don’t be so stubborn.
Chrem. What am I to do here? I see I am not allowed to carry this through, as I had intended.
Chrem. What am I supposed to do here? I see I can't go through with this plan, as I had intended.
Men. You are acting as becomes you.
Men. You are acting as is fitting for you.
Chrem. On this condition, then, I’ll do it; if he does that which I think it right he should do.
Chrem. Alright, I'll agree to that; if he does what I believe is the right thing for him to do.
Clit. Father, I’ll do any thing; command me.
Clitoris. Dad, I’ll do anything; just tell me what you need.
Chrem. You must take a wife.
Chrem. You need to get married.
Clit. Father——
Clit. Dad——
Chrem. I’ll hear nothing.
Chrem. I won’t listen.
Men. I’ll take it upon myself; he shall do so.
Men. I'll handle it myself; he will do it.
Chrem. I don’t hear any thing from him as yet.
Chrem. I still haven't heard anything from him.
Clit. (aside.) I’m undone!
Clit. (aside.) I’m devastated!
Sos. Do you hesitate, Clitipho?
Sos. Are you hesitating, Clitipho?
Chrem. Nay, just as he likes.
Chrem. Nope, just how he likes.
Men. He’ll do it all.
Men. He'll handle everything.
Sos. This course, while you are making a beginning, is 196 disagreeable, and while you are unacquainted with it. When you have become acquainted with it, it will become easy.
SOS. This course is tough at first, especially when you're not familiar with it. But once you get to know it, it will become easier. 196
Clit. I’ll do it, father.
Clit. I’ll do it, Dad.
Sos. My son, upon my honor I’ll give you that charming girl, whom you may soon become attached to, the daughter of our neighbor Phanocrata.
SOS. My son, I promise you I’ll give you that lovely girl, who you might soon take a liking to, the daughter of our neighbor Phanocrata.
Clit. What! that red-haired girl, with cat’s eyes, freckled face,106 and hooked nose? I can not, father.
Clitoris. What! That girl with red hair, cat-like eyes, a face full of freckles, and a hooked nose? I can’t, Dad.
Chrem. Heyday! how nice he is! You would fancy he had set his mind upon it.
Chrem. Wow! He's really nice! You would think he intended to be this way.
Sos. I’ll name another.
Sos. I’ll choose another one.
Clit. Why no—since I must marry, I myself have one that I should pretty nearly make choice of.
Clitoris. No, I wouldn’t—since I have to marry, I already have someone in mind that I should almost choose.
Sos. Now, son, I commend you.
Sos. Now, son, I'm proud of you.
Clit. The daughter of Archonides here.
Clit. The daughter of Archonides here.
Sos. I’m quite agreeable.
Sos. I'm pretty easygoing.
Clit. Father, this now remains.
Clit. Dad, this still stands.
Chrem. What is it?
Chrem. What’s up?
Clit. I want you to pardon Syrus for what he has done for my sake.
Clitoris. I want you to forgive Syrus for what he did for me.
Chrem. Be it so. (To the Audience.) Fare you well, and grant us your applause.
Chrem. Alright then. (To the Audience.) Goodbye, and please give us your applause.
FOOTNOTES
2. From μενὸς, “strength,” and δῆμος, “the people.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From μενὸς, “strength,” and δῆμος, “the people.”
3. From κλίνω, “to incline,” or from κλινὴ, “the marriage-bed.”
3. From κλίνω, “to incline,” or from κλινή, “the marriage-bed.”
4. From κλειτὸς, “illustrious,” and φῶς, “light.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From κλειτὸς, “illustrious,” and φῶς, “light.”
6. From Syria, his native country.
From Syria, his homeland.
7. From σώζω, “to preserve,” or “save.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From σώζω, “to preserve,” or “save.”
8. From ἀντὶ, “in return,” and φιλῶ, “to love.”
8. From Instead of, “in return,” and I love, “to love.”
10. From Phrygia, her native country.
From Phrygia, her hometown.
11. Being Consuls)—M. Juventius Thalna and Ti. Sempronius Gracchus were Consuls in the year from the Building of the City 589, and B.C. 164.
11. Being Consuls)—M. Juventius Thalna and Ti. Sempronius Gracchus were Consuls in the year 589 since the founding of the City, or 164 B.C.
12. Assigned to an old man)—Ver. 1. He refers to the fact that the Prologue was in general spoken by young men, whereas it is here spoken by L. Ambivius Turpio, the leader of the Company, a man stricken in years. The Prologue was generally not recited by a person who performed a character in the opening Scene.
12. Assigned to an old man)—Ver. 1. He points out that the Prologue was usually delivered by young men, but here it is spoken by L. Ambivius Turpio, the head of the Company, who is an older man. The Prologue was typically not recited by someone who played a character in the opening Scene.
13. That I will first explain to you)—Ver. 3. His meaning seems to be, that he will first tell them the reason why he, who is to take a part in the opening Scene, speaks the Prologue, which is usually spoken by a young man who does not take part in that Scene; and that he will then proceed to speak in character (eloquor), as Chremes, in the first Scene. His reason for being chosen to speak the Prologue, is that he may be a pleader (orator) for the Poet, a task which would be likely to be better performed by him than by a younger man.
13. That I will first explain to you)—Ver. 3. He seems to mean that he'll start by explaining why he, who is involved in the opening scene, is the one delivering the prologue. Usually, that's done by a young man who's not part of that scene. After that, he'll switch to speaking in character (eloquor) as Chremes in the first scene. The reason he was chosen to deliver the prologue is that he can effectively advocate for the Poet, a job he would likely handle better than a younger person would.
14. From an entire Greek one)—Ver. 4. In contradistinction to such Plays as the Andria, as to which it was a subject of complaint that it had been formed out of a mixture (contaminatus) of the Andrian and Perinthian of Menander.
14. From an entire Greek one)—Ver. 4. Unlike plays like the Andria, which received criticism for being a mix (contaminatus) of the Andrian and Perinthian works of Menander.
15. Which from a two-fold plot)—Ver. 6. Vollbehr suggests that the meaning of this line is, that though it is but one Play, it has a two-fold plot—the intrigues of two young men with two mistresses, and the follies of two old men. As this Play is supposed to represent the events of two successive days, the night intervening, it has been suggested that the reading is “duplex—ex argumento—simplici;” the Play is “two-fold, with but one plot,” as extending to two successive days. The Play derives its name from the Greek words, ἑαυτὸν, “himself,” and τιμωρουμενὸς, “tormenting.”
15. Which from a two-fold plot)—Ver. 6. Vollbehr suggests that the meaning of this line is that although it's one Play, it has a two-fold plot—the schemes of two young men with two mistresses, and the foolishness of two old men. Since this Play is supposed to show the events of two consecutive days, with a night in between, it's been proposed that the reading is “duplex—ex argumento—simplici;” the Play is “two-fold, with just one plot,” as it spans two consecutive days. The Play gets its name from the Greek words, ἑαυτόν, “himself,” and punishable, “tormenting.”
16. To be a Pleader)—Ver. 11. He is to be the pleader and advocate of the Poet, to influence the Audience in his favor, and against his adversaries; and not to explain the plot of the Play. Colman has the following observation: “It is impossible not to regret that there are not above ten lines of the Self-Tormentor preserved among the Fragments of Menander. We are so deeply interested by what we see of that character in Terence, that one can not but be curious to inquire in what manner the Greek Poet sustained it through five Acts. The Roman author, though he has adopted the title of the Greek Play, has so altered the fable, that Menedemus is soon thrown into the background, and Chremes is brought forward as the principal object; or, to vary the allusion a little, the Menedemus of Terence seems to be a drawing in miniature copied from a full length, as large as the life, by Menander.”
16. To be a Pleader)—Ver. 11. He must act as the pleader and supporter of the Poet, working to sway the Audience in his favor and against his opponents; he shouldn’t focus on explaining the plot of the Play. Colman has the following remark: “It’s hard not to feel disappointed that only about ten lines of the Self-Tormentor are preserved among the Fragments of Menander. We become so engaged with what we see of that character in Terence that it’s natural to be curious about how the Greek Poet developed it through five Acts. The Roman author, while using the title of the Greek Play, has changed the story so much that Menedemus quickly fades into the background, with Chremes taking center stage; or, to change the analogy a bit, the Menedemus of Terence comes across as a small drawing based on a full-sized portrait by Menander.”
17. A malevolent old Poet)—Ver. 22. He alludes to his old enemy, Luscus Lavinius, referred to in the preceding Prologue.
17. An evil old Poet)—Ver. 22. He refers to his longtime enemy, Luscus Lavinius, mentioned in the previous Prologue.
18. The genius of his friends)—Ver. 24. He alludes to a report which had been spread, that his friends Lælius and Scipio had published their own compositions under his name. Servilius is also mentioned by Eugraphius as another of his patrons respecting whom similar stories were circulated.
18. The genius of his friends)—Ver. 24. He refers to a rumor that circulated claiming his friends Lælius and Scipio had released their own works under his name. Servilius is also mentioned by Eugraphius as another supporter of his, about whom similar stories were shared.
19. As he ran alone in the street)—Ver. 31. He probably does not intend to censure this practice entirely in Comedy, but to remind the Audience that in some recent Play of Luscus Lavinius this had been the sole stirring incident introduced. Plautus introduces Mercury running in the guise of Sosia, in the fourth Scene of the Amphitryon, l. 987, and exclaiming, “For surely, why, faith, should I, a God, be any less allowed to threaten the public, if it doesn’t get out of my way, than a slave in the Comedies?” This practice can not, however, be intended to be here censured by Plautus, as he is guilty of it in three other instances. In the Mercator, Acanthio runs to his master Charinus, to tell him that his mistress Pasicompsa has been seen in the ship by his father Demipho; in the Stichus, Pinacium, a slave, runs to inform his mistress Philumena that her husband has arrived in port, on his return from Asia; and in the Mostellaria, Tranio, in haste, brings information of the unexpected arrival of Theuropides. The “currens servus” is also mentioned in the Prologue to the Andria, l. 36. See the soliloquy of Stasimus, in the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 1007.
19. As he ran alone in the street)—Ver. 31. He probably doesn’t mean to criticize this practice in comedy completely, but to point out to the audience that in a recent play by Luscus Lavinius, this was the only exciting moment included. Plautus shows Mercury running in the form of Sosia in the fourth scene of the Amphitryon, l. 987, and saying, “Surely, why should I, a god, be any less able to threaten the public to get out of my way than a slave in the comedies?” However, Plautus can’t be intending to criticize this practice here, as he uses it in three other examples. In the Mercator, Acanthio runs to tell his master Charinus that his mistress Pasicompsa has been seen on the ship by his father Demipho; in the Stichus, Pinacium, a slave, runs to inform his mistress Philumena that her husband has come into port returning from Asia; and in the Mostellaria, Tranio hurriedly brings news of the unexpected arrival of Theuropides. The “running slave” is also mentioned in the prologue to the Andria, l. 36. See the soliloquy of Stasimus in the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 1007.
20. A quiet Play)—Ver. 36. “Statariam.” See the spurious Prologue to the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 10, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation. The Comedy of the Romans was either “stataria”, “motoria”, or “mixta”. “Stataria” was a Comedy which was calm and peaceable, such as the Cistellaria of Plautus; “motoria” was one full of action and disturbance, like his Amphitryon; while the “Comœdia mixta” was a mixture of both, such as the Eunuchus of Terence.
20. A quiet Play)—Ver. 36. “Statariam.” See the questionable Prologue to the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 10, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation. Roman Comedy was categorized into “stataria,” “motoria,” or “mixta.” “Stataria” was calm and peaceful, like Plautus's Cistellaria; “motoria” was full of action and chaos, like his Amphitryon; while “Comœdia mixta” was a blend of both, such as the Eunuchus of Terence.
21. What in each character)—Ver. 47. “In utramque partem ingenium quid possit meum.” This line is entirely omitted in Vollbehr’s edition; but it appears to be merely a typographical error.
21. What in each character)—Ver. 47. “What can my talent do in both directions?” This line is completely left out in Vollbehr’s edition; however, it seems to be just a typo.
22. How little work is done here)—Ver. 72. Vollbehr thinks that his meaning is, that he is quite vexed to see so little progress made, in spite of his neighbor’s continual vexation and turmoil, and that, as he says in the next line, he is of opinion that if he were to cease working himself, and were to overlook his servants, he would get far more done. It is more generally thought to be an objection which Chremes suggests that Menedemus may possibly make.
22. How little work is done here)—Ver. 72. Vollbehr believes that he’s expressing frustration over the minimal progress being made despite his neighbor's ongoing annoyance and chaos. He states in the next line that he thinks if he stopped working himself and just supervised his servants, he would accomplish a lot more. However, it's more commonly seen as a concern that Chremes might raise regarding what Menedemus could say.
23. I am a man)—Ver. 77. “Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto.” St. Augustine says, that at the delivery of this sentiment, the Theatre resounded with applause; and deservedly, indeed, for it is replete with the very essence of benevolence and disregard of self. Cicero quotes the passage in his work De Officiis, B. i., c. 9. The remarks of Sir Richard Steele upon this passage, in the Spectator, No. 502, are worthy to be transcribed at length. “The Play was the Self-Tormentor. It is from the beginning to the end a perfect picture of human life, but I did not observe in the whole one passage that could raise a laugh. How well-disposed must that people be, who could be entertained with satisfaction by so sober and polite mirth! In the first Scene of the Comedy, when one of the old men accuses the other of impertinence for interposing in his affairs, he answers, ‘I am a man, and can not help feeling any sorrow that can arrive at man.’ It is said this sentence was received with an universal applause. There can not be a greater argument of the general good understanding of a people, than their sudden consent to give their approbation of a sentiment which has no emotion in it. If it were spoken with ever so great skill in the actor, the manner of uttering that sentence could have nothing in it which could strike any but people of the greatest humanity—nay, people elegant and skillful in observation upon it. It is possible that he may have laid his hand on his heart, and with a winning insinuation in his countenance, expressed to his neighbor that he was a man who made his case his own; yet I will engage, a player in Covent Garden might hit such an attitude a thousand times before he would have been regarded.”
23. I am a man)—Ver. 77. “I am human; nothing human is foreign to me.” St. Augustine mentions that when this thought was expressed, the theatre erupted with applause, which is well-deserved because it captures the essence of kindness and selflessness. Cicero references this in his work De Officiis, B. i., c. 9. Sir Richard Steele’s comments on this quote in the Spectator, No. 502, are definitely worth quoting in full. “The play was The Self-Tormentor. From start to finish, it perfectly portrays human life, but I didn’t notice a single moment that could make anyone laugh. How well-adjusted must the audience be, to find satisfaction in such serious and polite humor! In the first scene of the comedy, when one old man accuses another of meddling in his business, the latter replies, ‘I am a man, and I can't help but feel any sorrow that comes to humanity.’ It's said that this line received unanimous applause. There can’t be a stronger indication of a society's understanding than their immediate agreement to praise a sentiment that evokes no strong emotions. Even if delivered with great skill by the actor, the way that line is said wouldn't resonate except with those of true compassion—those who are observant and refined. It's possible that he placed his hand on his heart and, with a charming expression, communicated to his neighbor that he empathized; still, I bet a performer in Covent Garden could mimic that pose a thousand times without being noticed.”
24. Take off my shoes)—Ver. 124. As to the “socci,” or low shoes of the ancients, see the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 720, in Bohn’s Translation. It was the especial duty of certain slaves to take off the shoes of their masters.
24. Take off my shoes)—Ver. 124. For information about the “socci,” or low shoes from ancient times, refer to the Notes on the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 720, in Bohn’s Translation. It was the specific responsibility of certain slaves to remove their masters' shoes.
25. To spread the couches)—Ver. 125. The “lecti” or “couches” upon which the ancients reclined at meals, have been enlarged upon in the Notes to Plautus, where full reference is also made to the “coena” or “dinner,” and other meals of the Romans.
25. To spread the couches)—Ver. 125. The "lecti" or "couches" that the ancients lounged on during meals are discussed in detail in the Notes to Plautus, which also provide full references to the "coena" or "dinner," along with other meals of the Romans.
26. Provide me with dress)—Ver. 130. It was the custom for the mistress and female servants in each family to make the clothes of the master. Thus in the Fasti of Ovid, B. ii., l. 746, Lucretia is found amidst her female servants, making a cloak, or “lacerna,” for her husband. Suetonius says that Augustus refused to wear any garments not woven by his female relations. Cooke seems to think that “vestiant” alludes to the very act of putting the clothes upon a person. He says, “The better sort of people had eating-dresses, which are here alluded to. These dresses were light garments, to put on as soon as they had bathed. They commonly bathed before eating, and the chief meal was in the evening.” This, however, does not seem to be the meaning of the passage, although Colman has adopted it. We may here remark that the censure here described is not unlike that mentioned in the Prologue to the Mercator of Plautus, as administered by Demænetus to his son Charinus.
26. Provide me with dress)—Ver. 130. It was common for the lady of the house and the female servants in each family to make the master’s clothes. For example, in Ovid's Fasti, B. ii., l. 746, Lucretia is shown with her female servants, making a cloak, or “lacerna,” for her husband. Suetonius mentions that Augustus wouldn’t wear any clothes that weren’t made by his female relatives. Cooke believes that “vestiant” refers to the act of dressing someone. He explains, “The better sort of people had eating-dresses, which are mentioned here. These dresses were light garments put on right after bathing. They usually bathed before meals, and the main meal was in the evening.” However, this doesn’t seem to match the meaning of the passage, even though Colman has adopted it. It’s worth noting that the criticism described here is similar to what is mentioned in the Prologue to Plautus’ Mercator, given by Demænetus to his son Charinus.
27. Neither movables)—Ver. 141. “Vas” is here used as a general name for articles of furniture. This line appears to be copied almost literally from one of Menander, which still exists.
27. Neither movables)—Ver. 141. “Vas” is used here as a general term for furniture items. This line seems to be taken almost directly from one of Menander's works, which still exists.
28. To sell my house)—Ver. 145. On the mode of advertising houses to let or be sold among the Romans, see the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 168, and the Note to the passage in Bohn’s Translation.
28. To sell my house)—Ver. 145. For information on how houses for rent or sale were advertised in ancient Rome, check out the Trinummus by Plautus, l. 168, and the note on that section in Bohn’s Translation.
29. Toward your children)—Ver. 151. The plural “liberos” is here used to signify the one son which Menedemus has. So in the Hecyra, l. 217, the same word is used to signify but one daughter. This was a common mode of expression in the times of the earlier Latin authors.
29. Toward your children)—Ver. 151. The plural "liberos" is used here to refer to the one son that Menedemus has. Similarly, in the Hecyra, l. 217, the same word indicates just one daughter. This was a common way of speaking among earlier Latin authors.
30. Festival of Bacchus, “Dionysia”)—Ver. 162. It is generally supposed that there were four Festivals called the Dionysia, during the year, at Athens. The first was the Rural, or Lesser Dionysia, κατ᾽ ἀγροὺς, a vintage festival, which was celebrated in the “Demi” or boroughs of Attica, in honor of Bacchus, in the month Poseidon. This was the most ancient of the Festivals, and was held with the greatest merriment and freedom; the slaves then enjoyed the same amount of liberty as they did at the Saturnalia at Rome. The second Festival, which was called the Lensea, from ληνὸς, a wine-press, was celebrated in the month Gamelion, with Scenic contests in Tragedy and Comedy. The third Dionysian Festival was the Anthesteria, or “Spring feast,” being celebrated during three days in the month Anthesterion. The first day was called πιθοίγια, or “the Opening of the casks,” as on that day the casks were opened to taste the wine of the preceding year. The second day was called χοες, from χοῦς, “a cup,” and was probably devoted to drinking. The third day was called χυτροὶ, from χυτρὸς, “a pot,” as on it persons offered pots with flower-seeds or cooked vegetables to Dionysus or Bacchus. The fourth Attic festival of Dionysius was celebrated in the month Elaphebolion, and was called the Dionysia ἐν ἄστει, Αστικὰ, or Μεγαλὰ, the “City” or “great” festival. It was celebrated with great magnificence, processions and dramatic representations forming part of the ceremonial. From Greece, by way of Sicily, the Bacchanalia, or festivals of Bacchus, were introduced into Rome, where they became the scenes of and pretext for every kind of vice and debauchery, until at length they were put down in the year B.C. 187, with a strong hand, by the Consuls Spurius Posthumius Albinus and Q. Marcius Philippus; from which period the words “bacchor” and “bacchator” became synonymous with the practice of every kind of vice and turpitude that could outrage common decency. See a very full account of the Dionysia and the Bacchanalia in Dr. Smith’s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities.
30. Festival of Bacchus, “Dionysia”)—Ver. 162. There were generally four Festivals known as the Dionysia throughout the year in Athens. The first was the Rural, or Lesser Dionysia, in the fields, a harvest festival celebrated in the “Demi” or boroughs of Attica, honoring Bacchus, in the month of Poseidon. This was the oldest of the Festivals and was held with the most joy and freedom; slaves enjoyed the same level of liberty as during the Saturnalia in Rome. The second Festival was called the Lensea, after ληνὸς, a wine-press, and took place in the month of Gamelion, featuring performances in Tragedy and Comedy. The third Dionysian Festival was the Anthesteria, or “Spring feast,” celebrated over three days in the month of Anthesterion. The first day was called πιθοίγια, or “the Opening of the casks,” as it was when the casks were opened for tasting the wine from the previous year. The second day was called χοές, from χοῦς, meaning “a cup,” and was likely dedicated to drinking. The third day was called χυτροὶ, from χυτρὸς, meaning “a pot,” as people offered pots filled with flower seeds or cooked vegetables to Dionysus or Bacchus. The fourth Attic festival of Dionysius was celebrated in the month of Elaphebolion and was called the Dionysia In the city, Urban, or Μεγάλα, the “City” or “great” festival. It was celebrated with great splendor, including processions and dramatic performances as part of the festivities. From Greece, through Sicily, the Bacchanalia, or festivals of Bacchus, were brought to Rome, where they became associated with all sorts of vice and indulgence, until they were suppressed in 187 B.C. by the Consuls Spurius Posthumius Albinus and Q. Marcius Philippus; from that time, the terms “bacchor” and “bacchator” became synonymous with all kinds of immoral actions that defied common decency. For a detailed account of the Dionysia and the Bacchanalia, see Dr. Smith’s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities.
31. Is of service to him)—Ver. 199. He means that it is to the advantage of Clitipho that Clinia should be seen to stand in awe of his father.
31. Is of service to him)—Ver. 199. He means that it’s beneficial for Clitipho that Clinia appears to respect his father.
32. Reasonable men)—Ver. 205. “Homo,” “a man,” is here put for men in general who are fathers.
32. Reasonable men)—Ver. 205. “Homo,” “a man,” is here used to refer to men in general who are fathers.
33. Of knowing and of pardoning)—Ver. 218. There is a jingle intended here in the resemblance of the words “cognoscendi,” “knowing,” and “ignoscendi,” “pardoning.”
33. Of knowing and of pardoning)—Ver. 218. There is a play on words intended here in the similarity between "cognoscendi," "knowing," and "ignoscendi," "pardoning."
34. Is—fair words)—Ver. 228. “Recte est.” It is supposed that he pauses before uttering these words, which mean “very well,” or “very good,” implying the giving an assent without making a promise; he tells the reason, in saying that he has scruples or prejudices against confessing that he has got nothing to give her.
34. Is—fair words)—Ver. 228. “That’s right.” It’s thought that he takes a moment before saying this, which means “very well” or “great,” implying he agrees without making a commitment; he explains that he has doubts or biases about admitting that he has nothing to offer her.
35. Great way from here)—Ver. 239. That is, from the place where they are, in the country, to Athens.
35. Great way from here)—Ver. 239. That is, from where they are, in the countryside, to Athens.
36. Troop of female attendants)—Ver. 245. The train and expenses of a courtesan of high station are admirably depicted in the speech of Lysiteles, in the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 252.
36. Group of female attendants)—Ver. 245. The entourage and costs of a high-class courtesan are excellently illustrated in Lysiteles' speech in the Trinummus by Plautus, l. 252.
37. In a mourning dress)—Ver. 286. Among the Greeks, in general, mourning for the dead seems to have lasted till the thirtieth day after the funeral, and during that period black dresses were worn. The Romans also wore mourning for the dead, which seems, in the time of the Republic, to have been black or dark blue for either sex. Under the Empire the men continued to wear black, but the women wore white. No jewels or ornaments were worn upon these occasions.
37. In a mourning dress)—Ver. 286. Among the Greeks, mourning for the dead typically lasted until the thirtieth day after the funeral, and during that time, black clothing was worn. The Romans also observed mourning customs, which, during the Republic, involved wearing black or dark blue for both men and women. In the Empire, men continued to wear black, while women wore white. No jewelry or decorations were worn during these times.
38. With no worthless woman’s trumpery)—Ver. 289. By “nullâ malâ re muliebri” he clearly means that they did not find her painted up with the cosmetics which some women were in the habit of using. Such preparations for the face as white-lead, wax, antimony, or vermilion, well deserve the name of “mala res.” A host of these cosmetics will be found described in Ovid’s Fragment “On the Care of the Complexion,” and much information upon this subject is given in various passages in the Art of Love. In the Remedy of Love, l. 351, Ovid speaks of these practices in the following terms: “At the moment, too, when she shall be smearing her face with the cosmetics laid up on it, you may come into the presence of your mistress, and don’t let shame prevent you. You will find there boxes, and a thousand colors of objects; and you will see ‘oesypum,’ the ointment of the fleece, trickling down and flowing upon her heated bosom. These drugs, Phineus, smell like thy tables; not once alone has sickness been caused by this to my stomach.” Lucretius also, in his Fourth Book, l. 1168, speaks of a female who “covers herself with noxious odors, and whom her female attendants fly from to a distance, and chuckle by stealth.” See also the Mostellaria of Plautus, Act I., Scene 3, l. 135, where Philematium is introduced making her toilet on the stage.
38. Without any worthless woman’s nonsense)—Ver. 289. By “nullâ malâ re muliebri,” he clearly means that they didn’t find her all done up with the cosmetics that some women usually wear. Things like white lead, wax, antimony, or vermilion really deserve to be called “bad stuff.” A ton of these cosmetics are described in Ovid’s Fragment “On the Care of the Complexion,” and a lot of info on this topic can be found in various parts of the Art of Love. In the Remedy of Love, l. 351, Ovid discusses these practices like this: “At the moment when she is smearing her face with the cosmetics she has ready, you can come into the presence of your mistress, and don’t let shame hold you back. You will find boxes, and a thousand shades of things; and you’ll see ‘oesypum,’ the fleece ointment, trickling down and flowing onto her heated bosom. These products, Phineus, smell like your tables; my stomach has gotten sick from this more than once.” Lucretius also, in his Fourth Book, l. 1168, talks about a woman who “covers herself with harmful scents, and whom her female attendants keep their distance from, laughing behind her back.” See also the Mostellaria of Plautus, Act I., Scene 3, l. 135, where Philematium is shown getting ready on stage.
39. Do hold your peace)—Ver. 291. “Pax,” literally “peace!” in the sense of “Hush!” “Be quiet!” See the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, ll. 889-891, in Bohn’s Translation.
39. Be quiet)—Ver. 291. “Peace,” literally “peace!” in the sense of “Hush!” “Be quiet!” See the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, ll. 889-891, in Bohn’s Translation.
40. The woof)—Ver. 293. See an interesting passage on the ancient weaving, in the Metamorphoses of Ovid, B. vi., l. 54, et seq. See also the Epistle of Penelope to Ulysses, in the Heroides of Ovid, l. 10, and the Note in Bohn’s English Translation.
40. The woof)—Ver. 293. Check out an intriguing section about ancient weaving in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book VI, line 54, et seq. You might also want to look at the Epistle of Penelope to Ulysses in Ovid's Heroides, line 10, and the note in Bohn’s English Translation.
41. She was weaving)—Ver. 294. This line and part of the next are supposed to have been translated almost literally from some lines, the composition of Menander, which are still extant.
41. She was weaving)—Ver. 294. This line and part of the next are thought to have been translated almost verbatim from some lines by Menander, which still exist.
42. Your Bacchis, whom we are bringing)—Ver. 310. Colman has the following remark: “Here we enter upon the other part of the table, which the Poet has most artfully complicated with the main subject by making Syrus bring Clitipho’s mistress along with Antiphila. This part of the story, we know, was not in Menander.”
42. Your Bacchis, whom we are bringing)—Ver. 310. Colman has the following remark: “Here we enter upon the other part of the table, which the Poet has most artfully complicated with the main subject by making Syrus bring Clitipho’s mistress along with Antiphila. This part of the story, we know, was not in Menander.”
43. Incur this risk)—Ver. 337. As to his own mistress.
43. Take this risk)—Ver. 337. Regarding his own girlfriend.
44. Upon either ear)—Ver. 342. “In aurem utramvis,” a proverbial expression, implying an easy and secure repose. It is also used by Plautus, and is found in a fragment of the Πλοκιὸν, or Necklace, a Comedy of Menander.
44. On either ear)—Ver. 342. “In either ear,” a common saying that suggests a comfortable and safe rest. It's also used by Plautus and appears in a fragment of the Πλοκιον, or Necklace, a comedy by Menander.
45. Still do that which I said)—Ver. 346. “Perge porro, tamen istue ago.” Stallbaum observes that the meaning is: “Although I’m going off, I’m still attending to what you’re saying.” According to Schmieder and others, it means: “Call on just as you please, I shall persist in sending Bacchis away.”
45. Still do what I said)—Ver. 346. “Go ahead, but I’m still dealing with this.” Stallbaum notes that it means: “Even though I’m leaving, I’m still listening to what you’re saying.” According to Schmieder and others, it means: “Call on me however you want, I’m still going to send Bacchis away.”
46. Such great people)—Ver. 363. “Quos,” literally, “What persons!”
46. Such great people)—Ver. 363. “Quos,” literally, “What persons!”
47. Words of double meaning)—Ver. 372. “Inversa verba, eversas cervices tuas.” “Inversa verba” clearly means, words with a double meaning, or substituted for others by previous arrangement, like correspondence by cipher. Lucretius uses the words in this sense, B. i., l. 643. A full account of the secret signs and correspondence in use among the ancients will be found in the 16th and 17th Epistles of the Heroides of Ovid, in his Amours, B. i., El. 4, and in various passages of the Art of Love. See also the Asinaria of Plautus, l. 780. It is not known for certain what “eversa cervix” here means; it may mean the turning of the neck in some particular manner by way of a hint or to give a sidelong look, or it may allude to the act of snatching a kiss on the sly, which might lead to a discovery.
47. Words of double meaning)—Ver. 372. “Inversa verba, eversas cervices tuas.” “Inversa verba” clearly means words with a double meaning, or ones that are swapped out for others based on prior arrangement, like communicating through a code. Lucretius uses the term in this way, B. i., l. 643. You can find a detailed account of the secret signs and communication methods used by the ancients in the 16th and 17th Epistles of the Heroides of Ovid, in his Amours, B. i., El. 4, and in various passages of the Art of Love. Also, check out the Asinaria of Plautus, l. 780. It’s not clear what “eversa cervix” means here; it could refer to tilting the neck in a specific way as a hint or giving a sideways glance, or it might refer to sneaking in a kiss, which could lead to getting caught.
48. A man whose manners—those persons)—Ver. 393. “Cujus—hi;” a change of number by the use of the figure Enallage.
48. A man whose behavior—those people)—Ver. 393. “Cujus—hi;” a change of number by the use of the figure Enallage.
49. I can scarce endure it)—Ver. 400. Colman has the following remark on this passage: “Madame Dacier, contrary to the authority of all editions and MSS., adopts a conceit of her father’s in this place, and places this speech to Clitipho, whom she supposes to have retired to a hiding-place, where he might overhear the conversation, and from whence he peeps out to make this speech to Syrus. This she calls an agreeable jeu de théâtre, and doubts not but all lovers of Terence will be obliged to her father for so ingenious a remark; but it is to be feared that critical sagacity will not be so lavish of acknowledgments as filial piety. There does not appear the least foundation for this remark in the Scene, nor has the Poet given us the least room to doubt of Clitipho being actually departed. To me, instead of an agreeable jeu de théâtre, it appears a most absurd and ridiculous device; particularly vicious in this place, as it most injudiciously tends to interrupt the course of Clinia’s more interesting passion, so admirably delineated in this little Scene.”
49. I can hardly stand it)—Ver. 400. Colman makes the following observation on this passage: “Madame Dacier, going against the authority of all editions and manuscripts, adopts an idea from her father here and attributes this speech to Clitipho, whom she thinks has hidden himself to overhear the conversation and peeks out to deliver this line to Syrus. She calls this an enjoyable jeu de théâtre, and believes that all Terence fans will be grateful to her father for such a clever insight; however, it’s likely that critical appreciation won’t be as generous as filial loyalty. There seems to be no basis for this idea in the scene, nor has the Poet given us any reason to doubt that Clitipho has actually left. To me, instead of an enjoyable jeu de théâtre, it looks like a completely absurd and ridiculous plan; particularly misguided here, as it unnecessarily disrupts the flow of Clinia’s much more engaging passion, which is so wonderfully portrayed in this brief scene.”
50. It is now daybreak)—Ver. 410. Though this is the only Play which includes more than one day in the action, it is not the only one in which the day is represented as breaking. The Amphitryon and the Curculio of Plautus commence before daybreak, and the action is carried on into the middle of the day. Madame Dacier absolutely considers it as a fact beyond all doubt, that the Roman Audience went home after the first two Acts of the Play, and returned for the representation of the third the next morning at daybreak. Scaliger was of the same opinion; but it is not generally entertained by Commentators.
50. It is now daybreak)—Ver. 410. While this is the only play that spans more than one day in its storyline, it's not the only one that depicts the break of day. Plautus's *Amphitryon* and *Curculio* start before dawn and continue through to midday. Madame Dacier firmly believes it as a fact beyond all doubt that the Roman audience went home after the first two acts of the play and returned to see the third act the next morning at daybreak. Scaliger shared this view, but it's not a widely accepted belief among commentators.
51. How I was affected)—Ver. 436. “Ut essem,” literally, “How I was.”
51. How I was affected)—Ver. 436. “Ut essem,” literally, “How I was.”
52. If a satrap)—Ver. 452. “Satrapa” was a Persian word signifying “a ruler of a province.” The name was considered as synonymous with “possessor of wealth almost inexhaustible.”
52. If a satrap)—Ver. 452. “Satrap” was a Persian term meaning “the governor of a province.” The term was regarded as synonymous with “someone who possesses almost unlimited wealth.”
53. In tasting only)—Ver. 457. “Pytiso” was the name given to the nasty practice of tasting wine, and then spitting it out; offensive in a man, but infinitely more so in a woman. It seems in those times to have been done by persons who wished to give themselves airs in the houses of private persons; at the present day it is probably confined to wine-vaults and sale-rooms where wine is put up to auction, and even there it is practiced much more than is either necessary or agreeable. Doubtless Bacchis did it to show her exquisite taste in the matter of wines.
53. In tasting only)—Ver. 457. “Pytiso” referred to the unpleasant habit of tasting wine and then spitting it out; it was distasteful in a man, but even more so in a woman. Back then, it seems to have been done by people wanting to show off in the homes of others; nowadays, it’s mostly seen in wine cellars and auction rooms where wine is sold, and even there, it’s done far more than is necessary or pleasant. Surely, Bacchis did it to display her refined taste in wines.
54. Is too acid)—Ver. 458. “Asperum;” meaning that the wine was not old enough for her palate. The great fault of the Greek wines was their tartness, for which reason sea-water was mixed with them all except the Chian, which was the highest class of wine.
54. Is too acidic)—Ver. 458. “Asperum;” meaning that the wine wasn’t aged enough for her taste. The major drawback of Greek wines was their sourness, which is why sea water was mixed with all of them except the Chian, which was the finest quality of wine.
55. Respected sir)—Ver. 459. “Pater,” literally “father;” a title by which the young generally addressed aged persons who were strangers to them.
55. Dear sir)—Ver. 459. “Pater,” literally “father;” a title that young people typically used to address older individuals who were not familiar to them.
56. All the casks, all the vessels)—Ver. 460. “Dolia omnia, omnes serias.” The finer kinds of wine were drawn off from the “dolia,” or large vessels, into the “amphoræ,” which, like the “dolia,” were made of earth, and sometimes of glass. The mouths of the vessels were stopped tight by a plug of wood or cork, which was made impervious to the atmosphere by being rubbed over with a composition of pitch, clay, wax, or gypsum. On the outside, the title of the wine was painted, and among the Romans the date of the vintage was denoted by the names of the Consuls then in office. When the vessels were of glass, small tickets or labels, called “pittacia,” were suspended from them, stating to a similar effect. The “seriæ” were much the same as the “dolia,” perhaps somewhat smaller; they were both long, bell-mouthed vessels of earthen-ware, formed of the best clay, and lined with pitch while hot from the furnace. “Seriæ” were also used to contain oil and other liquids; and in the Captivi of Plautus the word is applied to pans used for the purpose of salting meat. “Relino” signifies the act of taking the seal of pitch or wax off the stopper of the wine-vessel.
56. All the casks, all the vessels)—Ver. 460. “All the containers, all the series.” The finer types of wine were transferred from the “dolia,” or large vessels, into the “amphoræ,” which, like the “dolia,” were made of clay and sometimes glass. The openings of these vessels were sealed tightly with a wooden or cork plug, made airtight by coating it with a mixture of pitch, clay, wax, or gypsum. The name of the wine was painted on the outside, and among the Romans, the vintage date was indicated by the names of the Consuls at that time. When the vessels were made of glass, small tags or labels, known as “pittacia,” were attached to them, stating a similar information. The “seriæ” were quite similar to the “dolia,” perhaps slightly smaller; they were both long, bell-shaped containers made from high-quality clay, lined with pitch while still hot from the kiln. “Seriæ” were also used to hold oil and other liquids; in Plautus's Captivi, the term refers to pans used for salting meat. “Relino” refers to the act of removing the seal of pitch or wax from the stopper of the wine container.
58. What an inlet)—Ver. 482. “Fenestram;” literally, “a window.”
58. What an inlet)—Ver. 482. “Fenestram;” literally, “a window.”
59. This night with my eyes)—Ver. 491. Colman has the following Note here: “Hedelin obstinately contends from this passage, that neither Chremes nor any of his family went to bed the whole night; the contrary of which is evident, as Menage observes, from the two next Scenes. For why should Syrus take notice of his being up so early, if he had never retired to rest? Or would Chremes have reproached Clitipho for his behavior the night before, had the feast never been interrupted? Eugraphius’s interpretation of these words is natural and obvious, who explains them to signify that the anxiety of Chremes to restore Clinia to Menedemus broke his rest.”
59. This night with my eyes)—Ver. 491. Colman has the following Note here: “Hedelin stubbornly argues from this passage that neither Chremes nor any of his family slept at all that night; the opposite is clear, as Menage points out, from the next two Scenes. For why would Syrus mention being up so early if he had never gone to bed? Or would Chremes have criticized Clitipho for his actions the night before if the feast had never been interrupted? Eugraphius’s interpretation of these words is straightforward and makes sense, explaining that Chremes's worry about restoring Clinia to Menedemus caused him to lose sleep.”
60. That they may not perceive)—Ver. 511. Madame Dacier observes that Chremes seizes this as a very plausible and necessary pretense to engage Menedemus to return home, and not to his labors in the field, as he had at first intended.
60. That they may not perceive)—Ver. 511. Madame Dacier points out that Chremes uses this as a very convincing and necessary excuse to persuade Menedemus to go back home instead of heading out to work in the fields, as he originally planned.
61. Old age of an eagle)—Ver. 521. This was a proverbial expression, signifying a hale and vigorous old age. It has been suggested, too, that it alludes to the practice of some old men, who drink more than they eat. It was vulgarly said that eagles never die of old age, and that when, by reason of their beaks growing inward, they are unable to feed upon their prey, they live by sucking the blood.
61. The old age of an eagle)—Ver. 521. This was a common saying that indicated a healthy and strong old age. It has also been suggested that it refers to the habit of some elderly men who drink more than they eat. People commonly believed that eagles never die of old age, and that when their beaks grow inward to the point where they can no longer hunt, they survive by drinking blood.
62. Not like those of former days)—Ver. 524. Syrus, by showing himself an admirer of the good old times, a “laudator temporis acti,” is wishful to flatter the vanity of Chremes, as it is a feeling common to old age, perhaps by no means an unamiable one, to think former times better than the present. Aged people feel grateful to those happy hours when their hopes were bright, and every thing was viewed from the sunny side of life.
62. Not like those of former days)—Ver. 524. Syrus, by presenting himself as a fan of the good old days, a “praiser of the past,” aims to flatter Chremes' vanity, as it’s a common sentiment among older people, and maybe not an unkind one, to believe that the past was better than today. Elderly individuals often cherish those joyful moments when their hopes were high and everything was seen in a positive light.
63. Can no longer support her expenses)—Ver. 544. He refers to Menedemus and Bacchis.
63. Can no longer cover her expenses)—Ver. 544. He’s talking about Menedemus and Bacchis.
64. But in case, none the more)—Ver. 555. “Sed si quid, ne quid.” An instance of Aposiopesis, signifying “But if any thing does happen, don’t you blame me.”
64. But in case, none the more)—Ver. 555. “But if something happens, don’t blame me.” An example of Aposiopesis, meaning “But if anything does happen, don’t you blame me.”
65. And truly, Chremes)—Ver. 557. Some suppose that this is said in apparent candor by Syrus, in order the more readily to throw Chremes off his guard. Other Commentators, again, fancy these words to be said by Syrus in a low voice, aside, which seems not improbable; it being a just retribution on Chremes for his recommendation, however well intended: in that case, Chremes probably overhears it, if we may judge from his answer.
65. And truly, Chremes)—Ver. 557. Some believe that Syrus says this with false sincerity to catch Chremes off guard. Other commentators think Syrus says these words quietly, as a side comment, which seems likely; it would be a fitting response to Chremes for his recommendation, even if it was well-meaning. In that case, Chremes probably hears him, judging by his reply.
66. ’Tis the truth)—Ver. 568. “Factum.” “Done for” is anothor translation which this word will here admit of.
66. It’s the truth)—Ver. 568. “Factum.” “Done for” is another translation that this word can allow.
68. Of a prudent and discreet person)—Ver. 580. This is said ironically.
68. Of a wise and careful person)—Ver. 580. This is said ironically.
69. Is there but one way)—Ver. 583. And that an immodest one.
69. Is there only one way)—Ver. 583. And that one is inappropriate.
70. With your wife)—Ver. 604. Madame Dacier remarks, that as Antiphila is shortly to be acknowledged as the daughter of Chremes, she is not therefore in company with the other women at the feast, who are Courtesans, but with the wife of Chremes, and consequently free from reproach or scandal.
70. With your wife)—Ver. 604. Madame Dacier points out that since Antiphila is soon to be recognized as Chremes' daughter, she is not with the other women at the feast, who are Courtesans, but rather with Chremes' wife, and therefore, she is above reproach or scandal.
71. Would she really be a security)—Ver. 606. The question of Chremes seems directed to the fact whether the girl is of value sufficient to be good security for the thousand drachmæ.
71. Would she really be a guarantee)—Ver. 606. Chremes’s question appears to focus on whether the girl is valuable enough to be a reliable pledge for the thousand drachmæ.
72. You shall soon know)—Ver. 612. Madame Dacier suggests that Chremes is prevented by his wife’s coming from making a proposal to advance the money himself, on the supposition that it will be a lucrative speculation. This notion is contradicted by Colman, who adds the following note from Eugraphius: “Syrus pretends to have concerted this plot against Menedemus, in order to trick him out of some money to be given to Clinia’s supposed mistress. Chremes, however, does not approve of this: yet it serves to carry on the plot; for when Antiphila proves afterward to be the daughter of Chremes, he necessarily becomes the debtor of Bacchis, and is obliged to lay down the sum for which he imagines his daughter is pledged.”
72. You will soon find out)—Ver. 612. Madame Dacier suggests that Chremes is stopped from making a proposal to advance the money himself because of his wife's arrival, thinking it would be a profitable investment. Colman disagrees with this idea and includes the following note from Eugraphius: “Syrus pretends to have set up this scheme against Menedemus to trick him into giving some money for Clinia’s supposed mistress. However, Chremes does not support this, but it helps move the plot forward; when Antiphila turns out to be Chremes’ daughter, he automatically becomes indebted to Bacchis and has to pay the amount he thinks his daughter is promised for.”
73. Has gained a loss)—Ver. 628. He alludes to Clitipho, who, by the discovery of his sister, would not come in for such a large share of his father’s property, and would consequently, as Syrus observes, gain a loss.
73. Has gained a loss)—Ver. 628. He refers to Clitipho, who, due to finding out about his sister, wouldn't inherit a significant portion of his father's estate, and as Syrus points out, would therefore end up with a loss.
74. That she might not be without)—Ver. 652. Madame Dacier observes upon this passage, that the ancients thought themselves guilty of a heinous offense if they suffered their children to die without having bestowed on them some of their property; it was consequently the custom of the women, before exposing children, to attach to them some jewel or trinket among their clothes, hoping thereby to avoid incurring the guilt above mentioned, and to ease their consciences.
74. So she wouldn’t be without)—Ver. 652. Madame Dacier notes that the ancient people considered it a serious crime if they let their children die without giving them some of their belongings; therefore, it was common for women, before abandoning their children, to pin a piece of jewelry or a trinket onto their clothes, hoping to avoid the guilt mentioned above and to calm their own consciences.
75. Saving of yourself and her)—Ver. 653. Madame Dacier says that the meaning of this passage is this: Chremes tells his wife that by having given this ring, she has done two good acts instead of one—she has both cleared her conscience and saved the child; for had there been no ring or token exposed with the infant, the finder would not have been at the trouble of taking care of it, but might have left it to perish, never suspecting it would be inquired after, or himself liberally rewarded for having preserved it.
75. Saving of yourself and her)—Ver. 653. Madame Dacier indicates that this passage means the following: Chremes tells his wife that by giving this ring, she has accomplished two good deeds instead of just one—she has both eased her conscience and saved the child. If there hadn't been a ring or token with the baby, the person who found it wouldn’t have bothered to take care of it and might have just left it to die, unaware that someone would be looking for it or that they would be generously rewarded for saving it.
76. I see more hopes)—Ver. 659. Syrus is now alarmed that Antiphila should so soon be acknowledged as the daughter of Chremes, lest he may lose the opportunity of obtaining the money, and be punished as well, in case the imposition is detected, and Bacchis discovered to be the mistress of Clitipho and not of Clinia.
76. I see more hopes)—Ver. 659. Syrus is now worried that Antiphila is being recognized too quickly as Chremes' daughter, fearing he might miss the chance to get the money and face punishment if the deception is uncovered, revealing that Bacchis is actually Clitipho's mistress and not Clinia's.
77. A man can not be)—Ver. 666. This he says by way of palliating the cruelty he was guilty of in his orders to have the child put to death.
77. A man cannot be)—Ver. 666. He says this to justify the cruelty he showed in ordering the child to be killed.
78. Unless my fancy deceives me)—Ver. 668. “Nisi me animus fallit.” He comically repeats the very same words with which Sostrata commenced in the last Scene.
78. Unless I'm mistaken)—Ver. 668. “Unless my mind is wrong.” He humorously repeats the exact words that Sostrata used at the beginning of the last scene.
79. Retribution)—Ver. 668. “Infortunium!” was the name by which the slaves commonly denoted a beating. Colman has the following remark here: “Madame Dacier, and most of the later critics who have implicitly followed her, tell us that in the interval between the third and fourth Acts, Syrus has been present at the interview between Chremes and Antiphila within. The only difficulty in this doctrine is how to reconcile it to the apparent ignorance of Syrus, which he discovers at the entrance of Clinia. But this objection, says she, is easily answered. Syrus having partly heard Antiphila’s story, and finding things likely to take an unfavorable turn, retires to consider what is best to be done. But surely this is a most unnatural impatience at so critical a conjuncture; and, after all, would it not be better to take up the matter just where Terence has left it, and to suppose that Syrus knew nothing more of the affair than what might be collected from the late conversation between Chremes and Sostrata, at which we know he was present? This at once accounts for his apprehensions, which he betrayed even during that Scene, as well as for his imperfect knowledge of the real state of the case, till apprised of the whole by Clinia.”
79. Retribution)—Ver. 668. “Infortunium!” was the term that slaves commonly used for a beating. Colman has the following comment here: “Madame Dacier and most of the later critics who have followed her point out that during the break between the third and fourth Acts, Syrus was present at the meeting between Chremes and Antiphila inside. The main issue with this theory is how to explain Syrus's apparent lack of knowledge when Clinia enters. But this objection, she claims, is easily resolved. Syrus, having partially heard Antiphila’s story and sensing that things might take a bad turn, steps back to think about the best course of action. However, this seems like an odd impatience during such a critical moment; wouldn’t it be better to stick with what Terence left us and assume that Syrus didn’t know anything more than what could be gathered from the recent conversation between Chremes and Sostrata, which we know he attended? This explanation accounts for his concerns, which he showed even during that Scene, as well as his incomplete understanding of the actual situation until he hears everything from Clinia.”
80. With my sides covered)—Ver. 673. He most probably alludes to the custom of tying up the slaves by their hands, after stripping them naked, when of course their “latera” or “sides” would be exposed, and come in for a share of the lashes.
80. With my sides covered)—Ver. 673. He is likely referring to the practice of tying up slaves by their hands after stripping them naked, which would leave their “sides” exposed and subject to punishment.
81. Runaway money)—Ver. 678. “Fugitivum argentum.” Madame Dacier suggests that this is a bad translation of the words of Menander, which were “ἀποστρέψειν τὸν δραπέταν χρυσὸν” where “χρυσὸς” signified both “gold” and the name of a slave.
81. Runaway money)—Ver. 678. “Fugitivum argentum.” Madame Dacier points out that this is a poor translation of Menander's words, which were “Turn over the runaway gold.” where “gold” meant both “gold” and the name of a slave.
82. If the sky were to fall)—Ver. 719. He means those who create unnecessary difficulties in their imagination. Colman quotes the following remark from Patrick: “There is a remarkable passage in Arrian’s Account of Alexander, lib. iv., where he tells us that some embassadors from the Celtic, being asked by Alexander what in the world they dreaded most, answered, ‘That they feared lest the sky should fall [upon them].’ Alexander, who expected to hear himself named, was surprised at an answer which signified that they thought themselves beyond the reach of all human power, plainly implying that nothing could hurt them, unless he would suppose impossibilities, or a total destruction of nature.” Aristotle, in his Physics, B. iv., informs us that it was the early notion of ignorant nations that the sky was supported on the shoulders of Atlas, and that when he let go of it, it would fall.
82. If the sky were to fall)—Ver. 719. This refers to those who invent unnecessary problems in their minds. Colman shares the following comment from Patrick: “There’s a notable passage in Arrian’s Account of Alexander, lib. iv., where he recounts that some ambassadors from the Celts, when asked by Alexander what they feared most, replied, ‘We fear that the sky might fall [on us].’ Alexander, expecting to hear his name mentioned, was taken aback by their response, which indicated that they believed themselves beyond any human control, suggesting that nothing could harm them unless he were to entertain impossibilities or a complete destruction of nature.” Aristotle, in his Physics, B. iv., tells us that early in history, ignorant peoples believed the sky was held up by the shoulders of Atlas, and if he were to let it go, it would collapse.
83. To a very fine purpose)—Ver. 723. “Satis pol proterve,” &c. C. Lælius was said to have assisted Terence in the composition of his Plays, and in confirmation of this, the following story is told by Cornelius Nepos: “C. Lælius, happening to pass the Matronalia [a Festival on the first of March, when the husband, for once in the year, was bound to obey the wife] at his villa near Puteoli, was told that dinner was waiting, but still neglected the summons. At last, when he made his appearance, he excused himself by saying that he had been in a particular vein of composition, and quoted certain lines which occur in the Heautontimorumenos, namely, those beginning ‘Satis pol proterve me Syri promissa huc induxerunt.’”
83. To a very fine purpose)—Ver. 723. “Satis pol proterve,” &c. C. Lælius was said to have helped Terence with his plays, and to support this, Cornelius Nepos recounts the following story: “C. Lælius, while spending the Matronalia [a festival on the first of March, when the husband, for once a year, was obligated to obey his wife] at his villa near Puteoli, was informed that dinner was ready, but he still ignored the call. Finally, when he showed up, he apologized by saying he had been in a creative mood and quoted some lines from the Heautontimorumenos, specifically those starting with ‘Satis pol proterve me Syri promissa huc induxerunt.’”
84. They’re asleep)—Ver. 730. “Dormiunt.” This is clearly used figuratively, though Hedelin interprets it literally.
84. They’re asleep)—Ver. 730. “Dormiunt.” This is clearly used figuratively, although Hedelin interprets it literally.
85. Farm here on the right-hand side)—Ver. 732. Cooke suggests that the Poet makes Bacchis call the house of Charinus “villa,” and that of Chremes “fundus” (which signifies “a farm-house,” or “farm”), for the purpose of exalting the one and depreciating the other in the hearing of Syrus.
85. Farm here on the right-hand side)—Ver. 732. Cooke suggests that the poet has Bacchis refer to Charinus's house as a “villa” and Chremes's as a “fundus” (which means “a farm-house” or “farm”) to elevate one and undermine the other in front of Syrus.
86. The feast of Bacchus)—Ver. 733. This passage goes far to prove that the Dionysia here mentioned as being celebrated, were those κατ᾽ ἀγρους, or the “rural Dionysia.”
86. The feast of Bacchus)—Ver. 733. This passage strongly suggests that the Dionysia referred to here are the ones celebrated in the countryside, known as the “rural Dionysia.”
87. Let’s be going)—Ver. 742. Colman here remarks to the following effect: “There is some difficulty in this and the next speech in the original, and the Commentators have been puzzled to make sense of them. It seems to me that the Poet’s intention is no more than this: Bacchis expresses some reluctance to act under the direction of Syrus, but is at length prevailed on, finding that he can by those means contrive to pay her the money which he has promised her.”
87. Let’s be going)—Ver. 742. Colman comments as follows: “There is some difficulty in this and the next speech in the original, and the commentators have been confused trying to interpret them. It seems to me that the poet's intention is simply this: Bacchis shows some hesitation to follow Syrus's instructions, but eventually agrees, realizing that this is how she can receive the money he promised her.”
88. Rigorous law)—Ver. 796. Cicero mentions the same proverb in his work De Officiis, B. i., ch. 10, substituting the word “injuria” for “malitia.” “‘Extreme law, extreme injustice,’ is now become a stale proverb in discourse.” The same sentiment is found in the Fragments of Menander.
88. Strict law)—Ver. 796. Cicero references the same proverb in his work De Officiis, Book 1, Chapter 10, replacing the word “malitia” with “injuria.” “‘Extreme law, extreme injustice,’ has now become a worn-out saying in conversation.” The same idea appears in the Fragments of Menander.
89. Are sanctioned by custom)—Ver. 839. He inveighs, perhaps justly, against the tyranny of custom; but in selecting this occasion for doing so, he does not manifest any great affection for his newly-found daughter.
89. Are sanctioned by custom)—Ver. 839. He criticizes, maybe rightly, the oppression of tradition; however, by choosing this moment to express it, he doesn't show much fondness for his newly discovered daughter.
90. Assistant, prompter, and director)—Ver. 875. The three terms here used are borrowed from the stage. “Adjutor” was the person who assisted the performers either by voice or gesture; “monitor” was the prompter; and “præmonstrator” was the person who in the rehearsal trained the actor in his part.
90. Assistant, prompter, and director)—Ver. 875. The three terms used here come from the theater. “Adjutor” was the person who helped the performers, either by voice or gesture; “monitor” was the prompter; and “præmonstrator” was the person who trained the actor in their role during rehearsals.
91. Dolt, post, ass)—Ver. 877. There is a similar passage in the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 1087. “Whoever there are in any place whatsoever, whoever have been, and whoever shall be in time to come, fools, blockheads, idiots, dolts, sots, oafs, lubbers, I singly by far exceed them all in folly and absurd ways.”
91. Dolt, post, ass)—Ver. 877. There’s a similar line in the Bacchides of Plautus, l. 1087. “Whoever is anywhere, whoever has been, and whoever will be in the future—fools, blockheads, idiots, dolts, drunks, oafs, losers—I far surpass them all in foolishness and ridiculousness.”
92. Mould the countenances of people)—Ver. 887. He means that Syrus not only lays his plots well, but teaches the performers to put on countenances suitable to the several parts they are to act.
92. Shape the faces of people)—Ver. 887. He means that Syrus not only plans his schemes effectively, but also instructs the actors on how to display the right expressions for the different roles they are going to play.
93. Has moulded your son)—Ver. 898. “Mire finxit.” He sarcastically uses the same word, “fingo,” which Chremes himself employed in l. 887.
93. Has shaped your son)—Ver. 898. “Mire finxit.” He sarcastically uses the same word, “fingo,” that Chremes himself used in l. 887.
94. Substance to suffice for ten days)—Ver. 909. “Familia” here means “property,” as producing sustenance. Colman, however, has translated the passage: “Mine is scarce a ten-days’ family.”
94. Substance to suffice for ten days)—Ver. 909. “Familia” here means “property,” as a source of sustenance. Colman, however, translated the passage as: “Mine is barely a ten-days’ supply.”
95. His she-friend rather)—Ver. 911. Menedemus speaks of “amico,” a male friend, which Chremes plays upon by saying “amicae,” which literally meant a she-friend, and was the usual name by which decent people called a mistress.
95. His girlfriend rather)—Ver. 911. Menedemus talks about “amico,” a male friend, which Chremes twists by saying “amicae,” which literally meant a female friend, and was the typical term decent people used for a mistress.
96. And forsake you)—Ver. 924. Madame Dacier observes here, that one of the great beauties of this Scene consists in Chremes retorting on Menedemus the very advice given by himself at the beginning of the Play.
96. And forsake you)—Ver. 924. Madame Dacier points out that one of the key strengths of this scene is Chremes throwing back at Menedemus the very advice he gave at the start of the play.
97. Which he has done to me)—Ver. 954. Colman has the following Note: “The departure of Menedemus here is very abrupt, seeming to be in the midst of a conversation; and his re-entrance with Clitipho, already supposed to be apprised of what has passed between the two old gentlemen, is equally precipitate. Menage imagines that some verses are lost here. Madame Dacier strains hard to defend the Poet, and fills up the void of time by her old expedient of making the Audience wait to see Chremes walk impatiently to and fro, till a sufficient time is elapsed for Menedemus to have given Clitipho a summary account of the cause of his father’s anger. The truth is, that a too strict observance of the unity of place will necessarily produce such absurdities; and there are several other instances of the like nature in Terence.”
97. Which he has done to me)—Ver. 954. Colman has the following Note: “Menedemus’s departure here feels very sudden, as if he’s cutting off a conversation; and his return with Clitipho, who’s already assumed to know what’s happened between the two old men, is just as rushed. Menage thinks some lines might be missing here. Madame Dacier struggles to justify the Poet and covers the gap in time by having the Audience watch Chremes anxiously pacing back and forth until enough time has passed for Menedemus to have given Clitipho a brief summary of why his father is upset. The truth is, that sticking too strictly to the unity of place leads to these awkward moments; and there are several other similar cases in Terence.”
98. Intrusted every thing)—Ver. 966. This is an early instance of a trusteeship and a guardianship.
98. Entrusted everything)—Ver. 966. This is an early example of a trusteeship and a guardianship.
99. It’s all over)—Ver. 974. “Ilicet,” literally, “you may go away.” This was the formal word with which funeral ceremonies and trials at law were concluded.
99. It’s all over)—Ver. 974. “Ilicet,” literally, “you may go away.” This was the official term used to wrap up funeral ceremonies and legal trials.
100. Look out for an altar)—Ver. 975. He alludes to the practice of slaves taking refuge at altars when they had committed any fault, and then suing for pardon through a “precator” or “mediator.” See the Mostellaria of Plautus, l. 1074, where Tranio takes refuge at the altar from the vengeance of his master, Theuropides.
100. Look out for an altar)—Ver. 975. He refers to the practice of slaves seeking refuge at altars after making a mistake and asking for forgiveness through a “precator” or “mediator.” See the Mostellaria of Plautus, l. 1074, where Tranio seeks safety at the altar from the wrath of his master, Theuropides.
101. Amounts to the same thing)—Ver. 1010. “Quam quidem redit ad integrum eadem oratio;” meaning, “it amounts to one and the same thing,” or, “it is all the same thing,” whether you do or whether you don’t know.
101. Amounts to the same thing)—Ver. 1010. “Quam quidem redit ad integrum eadem oratio;” meaning, “it means the same thing,” or, “it’s all the same,” whether you know it or not.
102. Because my daughter has been found)—Ver. 1018. This sentence has given much trouble to the Commentators. Colman has the following just remarks upon it: “Madame Dacier, as well as all the rest of the Commentators, has stuck at these words. Most of them imagine she means to say, that the discovery of Antiphila is a plain proof that she is not barren. Madame Dacier supposes that she intimates such a proof to be easy, because Clitipho and Antiphila were extremely alike; which sense she thinks immediately confirmed by the answer of Chremes. I can not agree with any of them, and think that the whole difficulty of the passage here, as in many other places, is entirely of their own making. Sostrata could not refer to the reply of Chremes, because she could not possibly tell what it would be; but her own speech is intended as an answer to his preceding one, which she takes as a sneer on her late wonderful discovery of a daughter; imagining that he means to insinuate that she could at any time with equal ease make out the proofs of the birth of her son. The elliptical mode of expression so usual with Terence, together with the refinements of Commentators, seem to have created all the obscurity.”
102. Because my daughter has been found)—Ver. 1018. This sentence has puzzled many commentators. Colman makes some insightful comments about it: “Madame Dacier, like the other commentators, has struggled with these words. Most of them think she means to say that the discovery of Antiphila clearly shows she is not barren. Madame Dacier suggests that she implies such proof is easy because Clitipho and Antiphila look very much alike; she believes this is confirmed by Chremes' response. I cannot agree with any of them and think that the whole confusion in this passage, as in many others, is completely self-created. Sostrata could not refer to Chremes' reply because she couldn’t possibly know what it would be; her speech is meant as a response to his previous comment, which she interprets as a jab at her recent amazing discovery of a daughter, thinking he is suggesting that she could just as easily present proof of her son’s birth. The elliptical style typical of Terence, along with the complexities brought in by commentators, seems to have caused all the confusion.”
103. By your profligacy)—Ver. 1036. It is probably this ebullition of Comic anger which is referred to by Horace, in his Art of Poetry:
103. Because of your wastefulness)—Ver. 1036. This outburst of Comic anger is likely what Horace is talking about in his Art of Poetry:
“Interdum tamen et vocem Comœdia tollit,
“Sometimes, however, Comedy raises her voice,
Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore:”
Iratusque Chremes with a swollen mouth:
“Yet sometimes Comedy as well raises her voice, and enraged Chremes censures in swelling phrase.”
“Yet sometimes Comedy also raises her voice, and an enraged Chremes criticizes in an exaggerated tone.”
104. I don’t know as to the Gods)—Ver. 1037. “Deos nescio.” The Critic Lambinis, in his letter to Charles the Ninth of France, accuses Terence of impiety in this passage. Madame Dacier has, however, well observed, that the meaning is not “I care not for the Gods,” but “I know not what the Gods will do.”
104. I don’t know about the Gods)—Ver. 1037. “Deos nescio.” The critic Lambinis, in his letter to Charles the Ninth of France, accuses Terence of being disrespectful to the Gods in this passage. However, Madame Dacier has accurately pointed out that the meaning is not “I don’t care about the Gods,” but “I don’t know what the Gods will do.”
105. And close with the offer)—Ver. 1048. “Firmas.” This ratification or affirmation would be made by Menedemus using the formal word “Accipio,” “I accept.”
105. And close with the offer)—Ver. 1048. “Firmas.” This confirmation would be given by Menedemus with the formal word “Accipio,” “I accept.”
106. Freckled face)—Ver. 1060. Many take “sparso ore” here to mean “wide-mouthed.” Lemonnier thinks that must be the meaning, as he has analyzed the other features of her countenance. There is, however, no reason why he should not speak of her complexion; and it seems, not improbably, to have the same meaning as the phrase “os lentiginosum,” “a freckled face.”
106. Freckled face)—Ver. 1060. Many interpret “sparso ore” here to mean “wide-mouthed.” Lemonnier believes this must be the meaning, as he has examined the other characteristics of her face. However, there's no reason he couldn't be referring to her complexion; it seems likely that it shares the same meaning as the phrase “os lentiginosum,” “a freckled face.”
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ADELPHI;
THE BROTHERS,
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Demea,1 Brother, aged Athenian. Demea, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Brother, Athenian. Micio,2 Brother, aged Athenian. Micio, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Brother, aged Athenian. Ctesipho,5 another son of Demea. Ctesipho, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Demea's other son. Sannio,6 a Procurer. Sannio, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Supplier. Geta,7 servant of Sostrata. Geta, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ servant of Sostrata. Parmeno,8 servant of Micio. Parmeno, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Micio's servant. Syrus,9 servant of Micio. Syrus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Micio's servant. Dromo,10 servant of Micio. Dromo, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Micio's servant. Pamphila,11 a young woman beloved by Æschinus. Pamphila,11 a young woman who is cherished by Æschinus. Sostrata,12 a widow, mother of Pamphila. Sostrata, a widow, mother of Pamphila. Canthara,13 a Nurse. Canthara, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Nurse. A Music-girl. A Music Girl. |
Scene.—Athens; before the houses of Micio and Sostrata.
Scene.—Athens; in front of the houses of Micio and Sostrata.
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THE SUBJECT.
Micio and Demea are two brothers of dissimilar tempers. Demea is married, and lives a country life, while his brother remains single, and resides in Athens. Demea has two sons, the elder of whom, Æschinus, has been adopted by Micio. Being allowed by his indulgent uncle to gratify his inclinations without restraint, Æschinus has debauched Pamphila, the daughter of a widow named Sostrata. Having, however, promised to marry the young woman, he has been pardoned for the offense, and it has been kept strictly secret. Ctesipho, who lives in the country with his father under great restraint, on visiting the city, falls in love with a certain Music-girl, who belongs to the Procurer Sannio. To screen his brother, Æschinus takes the responsibility of the affair on himself, and succeeds in carrying off the girl for him. Demea, upon hearing of this, censures Micio for his ill-timed indulgence, the bad effects of which are thus exemplified in Æschinus; and at the same time lauds the steady conduct and frugality of Ctesipho, who has been brought up under his own supervision. Shortly after this, Sostrata hears the story about the Music-girl, at the very time that her daughter Pamphila is in labor. She naturally supposes that Æschinus has deserted her daughter for another, and hastens to acquaint Hegio, her kinsman, with the fact. Meantime Demea learns that Ctesipho has taken part in carrying off the Music-girl, whereon Syrus invents a story, and screens Ctesipho for the moment. Demea is next informed by Hegio of the conduct of Æschinus toward Pamphila. Wishing to find his brother, he is purposely sent on a fruitless errand by Syrus, on which he wanders all over the city to no purpose. Micio having now been informed by Hegio, and knowing that the intentions of Æschinus toward Pamphila are not changed, accompanies him to the house of Sostrata, whom he consoles by his promise that Æschinus shall marry her daughter. Demea then returns from his search, and, rushing into Micio’s house, finds his son Ctesipho there carousing; on which he exclaims vehemently against Micio, who uses his best endeavors to soothe him, and finally with success. He now determines to become kind and considerate for the future. At his request, Pamphila is brought to Micio’s house; and the nuptials are celebrated. Micio, at the earnest request of Demea and Æschinus, marries Sostrata; Hegio has a competency allowed him; and Syrus and his wife Phrygia are made free. The Play concludes with a serious warning from Demea, who advises his relatives not to squander their means in riotous living; but, on the contrary, to bear admonition and to submit to restraint in a spirit of moderation and thankfulness.
Micio and Demea are two brothers with very different personalities. Demea is married and lives in the countryside, while his brother is single and lives in Athens. Demea has two sons; the older one, Æschinus, has been taken in by Micio. With his easygoing uncle allowing him to follow his desires freely, Æschinus has gotten Pamphila, the daughter of a widow named Sostrata, pregnant. However, having promised to marry her, he has been forgiven for the wrongdoing, and it has been kept a secret. Ctesipho, who lives in the countryside with his father under significant restrictions, falls for a Music-girl in the city, who belongs to the procurer Sannio. To protect his brother, Æschinus takes the blame for this situation and manages to help Ctesipho get the girl. When Demea hears about this, he criticizes Micio for his poorly timed leniency, which is clearly causing problems with Æschinus, and praises Ctesipho's responsible behavior, as he has been raised under Demea's watchful eye. Shortly after, Sostrata finds out about the Music-girl just as her daughter Pamphila is going into labor. Naturally, she assumes that Æschinus has abandoned Pamphila for someone else and quickly tells her relative Hegio about it. Meanwhile, Demea discovers that Ctesipho was involved in the Music-girl situation, prompting Syrus to create a story to protect Ctesipho for the time being. Demea is then informed by Hegio about Æschinus's treatment of Pamphila. Wanting to confront his brother, he is intentionally sent on a pointless errand by Syrus, causing him to roam around the city without success. Micio, now aware thanks to Hegio that Æschinus's intentions towards Pamphila haven’t changed, goes with him to Sostrata's house, where he reassures her that Æschinus will marry her daughter. Demea returns from his fruitless search and barges into Micio's house, finding Ctesipho partying there, which leads him to angrily confront Micio. Micio does his best to calm him down and eventually succeeds. Demea then resolves to be kinder and more understanding going forward. He requests that Pamphila be brought to Micio's house; and they celebrate the wedding. At Demea's and Æschinus's insistence, Micio marries Sostrata, while Hegio receives a fair settlement; and Syrus and his wife Phrygia are granted their freedom. The play ends with a serious warning from Demea, advising his family not to waste their resources on excessive living, but instead to accept advice and practice moderation and gratitude.
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THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Funeral Games of Æmilius Paulus,14 which were celebrated by Q. Fabius Maximus and P. Cornelius Africanus. L. Atilius Prænestinus and Minutius Prothimus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music for Sarranian flutes.15 Taken from the Greek of Menander, L. Anicius and M. Cornelius being Consuls.16
Performed at the Funeral Games of Æmilius Paulus,14 which were celebrated by Q. Fabius Maximus and P. Cornelius Africanus. L. Atilius Prænestinus and Minutius Prothimus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music for Sarranian flutes.15 Taken from the Greek of Menander, L. Anicius and M. Cornelius being Consuls.16
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ADELPHI;
THE BROTHERS,
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
As Demea has two sons, young men, he gives Æschinus to his brother Micio to be adopted by him; but he retains Ctesipho: him, captivated with the charms of a Music-girl, and under a harsh and strict father, his brother Æschinus screens; the scandal of the affair and the amour he takes upon himself; at last, he carries the Music-girl away from the Procurer. This same Æschinus has previously debauched a poor woman, a citizen of Athens, and has given his word that she shall be his wife. Demea upbraids him, and is greatly vexed; afterward, however, when the truth is discovered, Æschinus marries the girl who has been debauched; and, his harsh father Demea now softened, Ctesipho retains the Music-girl.
Demea has two sons, young men. He lets his brother Micio adopt Æschinus, but keeps Ctesipho. Ctesipho, infatuated with a Music-girl, is protected by his brother Æschinus from their strict father, Demea, who disapproves of the relationship. Eventually, Æschinus rescues the Music-girl from the Procurer. Earlier, Æschinus had also seduced a poor woman from Athens and promised to marry her. Demea scolds him and is quite upset, but once the truth comes out, Æschinus marries the woman he seduced; and now that Demea has softened, Ctesipho keeps the Music-girl.
THE PROLOGUE.
Since the Poet has found that his writings are carped at by unfair critics, and that his adversaries represent in a bad light the Play that we are about to perform, he shall give information about himself; you shall be the judges whether this ought to be esteemed to his praise or to his discredit. The Synapothnescontes17 is a Comedy of Diphilus;18 Plautus made it into a Play called the “Commorientes.” In the Greek, there is a young man, who, at the early part of the Play, carries off a Courtesan from a Procurer; that part Plautus has entirely left out. This portion he has adopted in the Adelphi, and has transferred it, translated word for word. This new Play we are about to perform; determine then whether you think a theft has been committed, or a passage has been restored to notice which has been passed over in 201 neglect. For as to what these malevolent persons say, that men of noble rank assist him, and are always writing in conjunction with him—that which they deem to be a heavy crimination, he takes to be the highest praise; since he pleases those who please you all and the public; the aid of whom in war, in peace, in private business,19 each one has availed himself of, on his own occasion, without any haughtiness on their part. Now then, do not expect the plot of the Play; the old men20 who come first will disclose it in part; a part in the representation they will make known. Do you cause your impartial attention to increase the industry of the Poet in writing.
Since the Poet has found that unfair critics are nitpicking his writings, and that his opponents are portraying the Play we're about to perform in a negative way, he will share some information about himself; you will decide whether this should be considered as a compliment or an insult. The Synapothnescontes17 is a comedy by Diphilus; 18 Plautus adapted it into a play called “Commorientes.” In the Greek version, there’s a young man who, at the beginning of the play, steals a courtesan from a procurer; Plautus has completely left that part out. He has taken that section and included it in the Adelphi, translating it word for word. This new Play we are about to perform; so decide if you think a theft has taken place or if a passage has been brought back to light that had been neglected. As for what these spiteful people say, that noblemen support him and always collaborate with him—that which they consider a serious accusation, he sees as the highest praise; since he has the approval of those who please all of you and the public; the assistance of whom in war, in peace, and in private affairs,19 everyone has utilized, on their own occasions, without any arrogance on their part. Now then, don’t expect the plot of the Play; the old men20 who come first will reveal part of it; a part will be shown in the performance. Please give your unbiased attention to boost the Poet's creativity in writing.
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Micio, calling to a servant within.
Enter Mew, calling for a servant inside.
Mic. Storax! Æschinus has not returned home from the entertainment last night, nor any of the servants who went to fetch him.21 (To himself.) Really, they say it with reason, if you are absent any where, or if you stay abroad at any time, ’twere better for that to happen which your wife says against you, and which in her passion she imagines in her mind, than the things which fond parents fancy. A wife, if you stay long abroad, either imagines that you are in love or are beloved, or that you are drinking and indulging your inclination, and that you only are taking your pleasure, while she herself is miserable. As for myself, in consequence of my son not having returned home, what do I imagine? In what ways am I not disturbed? For fear lest he may either have 202 taken cold,22 or have fallen down somewhere, or have broken some limb. Oh dear! that any man should take it into his head, or find out what is dearer to him than he is to himself! And yet he is not my son, but my brother’s. He is quite different in disposition. I, from my very youth upward, have lived a comfortable town life, and taken my ease; and, what they esteem a piece of luck, I have never had a wife. He, on the contrary to all this, has spent his life in the country, and has always lived laboriously and penuriously. He married a wife, and has two sons. This one, the elder of them, I have adopted. I have brought him up from an infant, and considered and loved him as my own. In him I centre my delight; this object alone is dear to me. On the other hand, I take all due care that he may hold me equally dear. I give—I overlook; I do not judge it necessary to exert my authority in every thing; in fine, the things that youth prompts to, and that others do unknown to their fathers, I have used my son not to conceal from me. For he, who, as the practice is, will dare to tell a lie to or to deceive his father, will still more dare to do so to others. I think it better to restrain children through a sense of shame and liberal treatment, than through fear. On these points my brother does not agree with me, nor do they please him. He often comes to me exclaiming, “What are you about, Micio? Why do you ruin for us this youth? Why does he intrigue? Why does he drink? Why do you supply him with the means for these goings on? You indulge him with too much dress; you are very inconsiderate.” He himself is too strict, beyond what is just and reasonable; and he is very much mistaken, in my opinion, at all events, who thinks that an authority is more firm or more lasting which is established by force, than that which is founded on affection. Such is my mode of reasoning;
Mic. Storax! Aeschinus hasn’t come back home from the party last night, and neither have any of the servants who went to get him.21 (To himself.) Honestly, they’re right when they say that if you’re not around or you’re out too long, it’s better for your wife to imagine the worst about you, what she conjures up in her mind when she’s upset, than for her to believe the things that overly loving parents fancy. A wife, when you’re away for too long, either thinks you’re in love or are being loved by someone else, or that you’re out drinking and enjoying yourself, while she’s stuck being miserable. As for me, since my son hasn’t come back, what do I think? How disturbed am I? I worry that he might have caught a cold,22 or fallen somewhere, or broken some limb. Oh dear! How could anyone let themselves think or discover what matters more to them than to themselves! And yet, he’s not my son, but my brother’s. He’s got a completely different personality. I’ve lived a comfortable life in the city since I was young, and, as they say, I’ve been lucky never to have a wife. He, on the other hand, has spent his life in the countryside, always working hard and living modestly. He got married and has two sons. This one, the older one, I’ve adopted. I’ve raised him since infancy, and loved him as if he were my own. He’s my pride and joy; he’s the only one I truly care about. I also make sure he feels the same way about me. I give him leeway—I don’t think it’s necessary to always be strict; in fact, I’ve encouraged him to be open with me about the things that young people do that others hide from their parents. After all, if a kid feels free to lie to or deceive their father, they’re likely to do the same to others. I believe it’s better to guide kids through a sense of shame and kindness than through fear. My brother doesn’t agree with me on this, and it frustrates him. He often comes to me saying, “What are you doing, Micio? Why are you ruining this kid for us? Why does he sneak around? Why does he drink? Why are you funding this behavior? You spoil him with too much stuff; you’re being too careless.” He himself is far too strict, beyond what’s fair and reasonable; and I think he’s wrong, at least in my view, if he believes that authority based on force is stronger or more lasting than one built on affection. That’s my way of thinking;
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and thus do I persuade myself. He, who, compelled by harsh treatment, does his duty, so long as he thinks it will be known, is on his guard: if he hopes that it will be concealed, he again returns to his natural bent. He whom you have secured by kindness, acts from inclination; he is anxious to return like for like; present and absent, he will be the same. This is the duty of a parent, to accustom a son to do what is right rather of his own choice, than through fear of another. In this the father differs from the master: he who can not do this, let him confess that he does not know how to govern children. But is not this the very man of whom I was speaking? Surely it is he. I don’t know why it is I see him out of spirits; I suppose he’ll now be scolding as usual. Demea, I am glad to see you well.23
and so I convince myself. The person who, forced by tough treatment, fulfills his responsibilities only because he thinks it will be noticed is always on edge: if he believes his actions will go unnoticed, he will revert to his true nature. Someone you have won over with kindness acts out of genuine feeling; he wants to reciprocate; whether present or absent, he will behave consistently. This is a parent's responsibility: to train a child to do what is right out of his own will, rather than out of fear of someone else. In this, the father is different from the teacher: if someone cannot achieve this, they should admit they don't know how to raise children. But isn't this exactly the person I was referring to? Surely it is him. I don’t know why he seems so down; I suppose he’ll be scolding as usual. Demea, it's good to see you well.23
Scene II.
Enter Demea.
Enter Demea.
Dem. Oh,—opportunely met; you are the very man I was looking for.24
Dem. Oh, what a lucky coincidence; you are exactly the person I was searching for.24
Mic. Why are you out of spirits?
Mic. Why do you feel sad?
Dem. Do you ask me, when we have such a son as Æschinus,25 why I’m out of spirits?
Dem. Are you seriously asking me why I'm feeling down when we have such a son as Æschinus?25
Mic. (aside.) Did I not say it would be so? (To Demea.) What has he been doing?
Microphone. (aside.) Didn't I say it would be like this? (To Demea.) What has he been up to?
Dem. What has he been doing? He, who is ashamed of nothing, and fears no one, nor thinks that any law can control him. But I pass by what has been previously done: what a thing he has just perpetrated!
Dem. What has he been up to? He, who is ashamed of nothing, fears no one, and doesn't believe any law can control him. But I won't dwell on what he's done before: look at what he just pulled off!
Mic. Why, what is it?
Mic. What's up?
Dem. He has broken open a door,26 and forced his way 204 into another person’s house, beaten to death the master himself, and all the household, and carried off a wench whom he had a fancy for. All people are exclaiming that it was a most disgraceful proceeding. How many, Micio, told me of this as I was coming here? It is in every body’s mouth. In fine, if an example must be cited, does he not see his brother giving his attention to business, and living frugally and soberly in the country? No action of his is like this. When I say this to him, Micio, I say it to you. You allow him to be corrupted.
Dem. He has broken down a door, 26 and forced his way into someone else's house, killed the owner, and the whole household, and taken a woman he wanted. Everyone is saying it was a really disgraceful act. How many people, Micio, told me about this on my way here? It's all anyone can talk about. If we need an example, doesn’t he see his brother focusing on his work, and living simply and responsibly out in the country? None of his actions are anything like this. When I say this to him, Micio, I’m saying it to you. You’re letting him go downhill.
Mic. Never is there any thing more unreasonable than a man who wants experience, who thinks nothing right except what he himself has done.
Mic. There’s nothing more unreasonable than a guy who demands experience, who believes that nothing is right except for what he himself has done.
Dem. What is the meaning of that?
Dem. What does that mean?
Mic. Because, Demea, you misjudge these matters. It is no heinous crime, believe me, for a young man to intrigue or to drink; it is not; nor yet for him to break open a door. If neither I nor you did so, it was poverty that did not allow us to do so. Do you now claim that as a merit to yourself, which you then did from necessity? That is unfair; for if we had had the means to do so, we should have done the same. And, if you were a man, you would now suffer that other son of yours to act thus now, while his age will excuse it, rather than, when he has got you, after long wishing it, out of the way, he should still do so, at a future day, and at an age more unsuited.
Mic. Demea, you're misunderstanding these things. It's not a terrible crime, trust me, for a young man to sneak around or drink; it's really not; nor is it a big deal for him to break down a door. If neither you nor I did that, it was because we couldn't afford it. Do you really think you can take credit for something you didn’t do out of choice, but out of necessity? That’s not fair; if we had the means, we would have done the same. And if you were a real man, you'd let that other son of yours act like this now, while he can get away with it, instead of waiting until he finally gets rid of you and does it later, when it’s less appropriate.
Dem. O Jupiter! You, sir, are driving me to distraction. Is it not a heinous thing for a young man to do these things?
Dem. Oh Jupiter! You, sir, are driving me crazy. Is it not a terrible thing for a young man to behave this way?
Mic. Oh! do listen to me, and do not everlastingly din me upon this subject. You gave me your son to adopt; he became mine; if he offends in any thing, Demea, he offends against me: in that case I shall bear the greater part of the inconvenience. Does he feast,27 does he drink, does he smell 205 of perfumes,28—it is at my cost. Does he intrigue, money shall be found by me, so long as it suits me; when it shall be no longer convenient, probably he’ll be shut out of doors.29 Has he broken open a door—it shall be replaced; has he torn any one’s clothes—they shall be mended. Thanks to the Gods, I both have means for doing this, and these things are not as yet an annoyance. In fine, either desist, or else find some arbitrator between us: I will show that in this matter you are the most to blame.
Mic. Oh! please listen to me, and don’t keep hounding me about this. You gave me your son to raise; he became my responsibility. If he misbehaves in any way, Demea, he’s doing it to me: in that case, I’ll take on most of the trouble. If he’s partying, does he drink, does he smell like perfumes—it's all at my expense. If he gets into trouble, I’ll cover it, as long as it works for me; when it no longer makes sense, he’ll probably be out on the street. If he breaks a door—it’ll be fixed; if he damages someone’s clothes—they’ll be repaired. Thankfully, I have the resources to do this, and these matters aren’t a burden yet. In short, either stop it, or let’s get someone to mediate this: I’ll prove that you’re the one at fault here.
Dem. Ah me! Learn to be a father from those who are really so.
Dem. Oh no! Learn what it means to be a father from those who truly are.
Mic. You are his father by nature, I by my anxiety.
Mic. You are his father by blood, I am by my worry.
Dem. You, feel any anxiety?
You feeling anxious?
Mic. Oh dear,—if you persist, I’ll leave you.
Mic. Oh no, if you keep this up, I’m out of here.
Dem. Is it thus you act?
Dem. Is this how you act?
Mic. Am I so often to hear about the same thing?
Mic. Do I really have to keep hearing about the same thing?
Dem. I have some concern for my son.
Dem. I'm worried about my son.
Mic. I have some concern for him too; but, Demea, let us each be concerned for his own share—you for the one, and I for the other. For, to concern yourself about both is almost the same thing as to demand him back again, whom you intrusted to me.
Mic. I care about him too; but, Demea, let’s each worry about our own part—you handle yours, and I’ll handle mine. Because if you try to worry about both, it's almost like asking for him back, the one you entrusted to me.
Dem. Alas, Micio!
Dem. Oh no, Micio!
Mic. So it seems to me.
Mic. That's how I see it.
Dem. What am I to say to this? If it pleases you, henceforth—let him spend, squander, and destroy; it’s nothing to me. If I say one word after this——
Dem. What should I say about this? If it makes you happy, from now on—let him spend, waste, and ruin everything; it doesn’t matter to me. If I say even one word after this——
Mic. Again angry, Demea?
Mic. Still mad, Demea?
Dem. Won’t you believe me? Do I demand him back whom I have intrusted? I am concerned for him; I am not a stranger in blood; if I do interpose—well, well, I have done. You desire me to concern myself for one of 206 them,—I do concern myself; and I give thanks to the Gods, he is just as I would have him; that fellow of yours will find it out at a future day: I don’t wish to say any thing more harsh against him.
Dem. Will you not believe me? Am I asking for someone back that I’ve trusted? I care about him; I’m not unrelated by blood. If I get involved—well, I’ve done it. You want me to care about one of 206 them,—I do care; and I’m grateful to the Gods, he is just as I want him to be; your guy will realize that eventually: I don’t want to say anything harsher about him.
Exit.
Exit.
Scene III.
Micio alone.
Micio by himself.
Mic. These things are30 not nothing at all, nor yet all just as he says; still they do give me some uneasiness; but I was unwilling to show him that I took them amiss, for he is such a man; when I would pacify him, I steadily oppose and resist him; and in spite of it he hardly puts up with it like other men; but if I were to inflame, or even to humor his anger, I should certainly be as mad as himself. And yet Æschinus has done me some injustice in this affair. What courtesan has he not intrigued with? Or to which of them has he not made some present? At last, he recently told me that he wished to take a wife,31 I suppose he was just then tired of them all. I was in hopes that the warmth of youth had now subsided; I was delighted. But look now, he is at it again; however, I am determined to know it, whatever it is, and to go meet the fellow, if he is at the Forum.
Mic. These things are not nothing, but they’re not exactly what he claims either; still, they do make me a bit uneasy. I didn’t want to let him know that I was bothered by them because he’s just that kind of guy; whenever I try to calm him down, I end up pushing back against him. He barely tolerates it, unlike most people. But if I were to fuel his anger or even just go along with it, I'd definitely lose my mind just like he has. Yet, Æschinus has wronged me in this situation. What courtesan hasn’t he flirted with? Which one hasn’t he given a gift to? Finally, he recently told me that he wanted to get married—I assume he was just tired of all of them. I thought maybe his youthful desires had cooled down; I was thrilled. But look now, he’s back at it again. However, I’m determined to find out what’s going on, and I plan to go meet him if he’s at the Forum.
Exit.
Leave.
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.
Enter Æschinus and Parmeno with the Music-Girl, followed by Sannio and a crowd of people.
Enter Æschinus and Parmeno with the Music Girl, followed by Sannio and a group of people.
San. I beseech you, fellow-citizens, do give aid to a miserable and innocent man; do assist the distressed.
San. I urge you, fellow citizens, please help a miserable and innocent man; assist those in distress.
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Æsch. (to the Girl.) Be quiet, and now then stand here just where you are. Why do you look back? There’s no danger; he shall never touch you while I am here.
Æsch. (to the Girl.) Stay quiet, and just stand right where you are. Why are you looking back? There’s no threat; he won't get to you while I'm here.
San. I’ll have her, in spite of all.
San. I’ll get her, no matter what.
Æsch. Though he is a villain, he’ll not risk, to-day, getting a second beating.
Æsch. Even though he's a bad guy, he won't take the chance of getting beaten up again today.
San. Hear me, Aeschinus, that you may not say that you were in ignorance of my calling; I am a Procurer.32
San. Listen to me, Aeschinus, so you can't claim you didn't know what I do; I am a Procurer.32
Æsch. I know it.
I get it.
San. And of as high a character as any one ever was. When you shall be excusing yourself by-and-by, how that you wish this injury had not been done me, I shall not value it this (snapping his fingers). Depend upon it, I’ll prosecute my rights; and you shall never pay with words for the evil that you have done me in deed. I know those ways of yours: “I wish it hadn’t happened; I’ll take my oath that you did not deserve this injustice;” while I myself have been treated in a disgraceful manner.
San. And just as respectable as anyone has ever been. When you’re making excuses later, saying how you wish this injury hadn’t happened to me, I won’t care about it at all (snapping his fingers). You can count on it; I’ll stand up for my rights, and you won’t be able to make up for the harm you’ve done me with just words. I know your tricks: “I wish it hadn’t happened; I swear you didn’t deserve this injustice,” while I’ve been treated horribly.
Æsch. (to Parmeno.) Go first with all dispatch and open the door.
Aeschylus. (to Parmeno.) Go ahead quickly and open the door.
Parmeno opens the door.
Parmeno opens the door.
San. But you will avail nothing by this.
San. But this won't help you at all.
Æsch. (To the Girl.) Now then, step in.
Æsch. (To the Girl.) Alright, come on in.
San. (coming between.) But I’ll not let her.
San. (interrupting.) But I won’t allow it.
Æsch. Step this way, Parmeno; you are gone too far that way; here (pointing), stand close by him; there, that’s what I want. Now then, take care you don’t move your eyes in any direction from mine, that there may be no delay if I give you the sign, to your fist being instantly planted in his jaws.
Æsch. Come over here, Parmeno; you're going too far that way; here (pointing), stand right next to him; there, that's what I need. Now, make sure you keep your eyes on mine, so there's no delay if I give you the signal to throw your fist in his face.
San. I’d have him then try that.
San. I’d have him try that then.
Æsch. (to Parmeno.) Now then, observe me.
Æsch. (to Parmeno.) Alright, watch me now.
Par. (to Sannio.) Let go the woman. (Strikes him.)
Par. (to Sannio.) Let her go. (Strikes him.)
San. Oh! scandalous deed!
San. Oh! scandalous act!
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Æsch. He shall repeat it, if you don’t take care. (Parmeno strikes him again.)
Æsch. He will say it again if you're not careful. (Parmeno hits him again.)
San. Oh shocking!
Wow, that's shocking!
Æsch. (to Parmeno.) I didn’t give the sign; but still make your mistakes on that side in preference. Now then, go.
Æsch. (to Parmeno.) I didn’t give the signal; but you can still mess up over there if you prefer. Now, go.
Parmeno goes with the Music-Girl into Micio’s house.
Parmeno enters Micio’s house with the Music-Girl.
San. What is the meaning of this? Have you the sway here, Aeschinus?
San. What’s going on here? Do you have control over this, Aeschinus?
Æsch. If I had it, you should be exalted for your deserts.
Æsch. If I had it, you would be celebrated for what you deserve.
San. What business have you with me?
San. What do you want from me?
Æsch. None.
None.
San. How then, do you know who I am?
San. So, how do you know who I am?
Æsch. I don’t want to.
I don't want to.
San. Have I touched any thing of yours?
San. Have I touched anything of yours?
Æsch. If you had touched it, you’d have got a drubbing.
Æsch. If you had touched it, you would have gotten a beating.
San. What greater right then have you to take my property, for which I paid my money? Answer me that.
San. What better reason do you have to take my property, for which I spent my money? Answer me that.
Æsch. It were better for you not to be making a disturbance here before the house; for if you persist in being impertinent, you shall be dragged in at once, and there you shall be lashed to death with whips.
Æsch. It’s better for you not to cause a scene in front of the house; if you keep being disrespectful, you’ll be pulled inside immediately, and there you’ll be whipped to death.
San. A free man, with whips?
San. A free man with whips?
Æsch. So it shall be.
Sure thing.
San. Oh, you shameless fellow! Is this the place where they say there is equal liberty for all?
San. Oh, you bold person! Is this really the place where they claim everyone has equal freedom?
Æsch. If you have now raved enough, Procurer, now then listen, if you please.
Æsch. If you've gone on enough, Procurer, please listen now.
San. Why, is it I that have been raving, or you against me?
San. Why, is it me who’s been losing my mind, or is it you who's against me?
Æsch. Leave alone all that, and come to the point.
Æsch. Forget all that, and get to the point.
San. What point? Where am I to come to?
San. What's the point? Where am I supposed to end up?
Æsch. Are you willing now that I should say something that concerns you?
Æsch. Are you okay with me saying something that relates to you?
San. With all my heart, only so it be something that’s fair.
San. I truly hope that whatever it is, it’s something fair.
Æsch. Very fine! a Procurer wishing me not to say what’s unfair.
Æsch. Great! A Procurer who wants me not to mention what’s unjust.
San. I am a Procurer,33 I confess it—the common bane of youth—a perjurer, a public nuisance; still, no injury has befallen you from me.
San. I’m a Procurer, 33 I admit it—the usual downfall of youth—a liar, a public nuisance; still, I haven’t caused you any harm.
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Æsch. Why, faith, that remains to come——
Æsch. Well, that hasn’t happened yet—
San. Pray, Æschinus, do come back to the point at which you set out.
San. Please, Æschinus, return to the point where you started.
Æsch. You bought her for twenty minæ; and may your bargain never thrive! That sum shall be given for her.
Æsch. You bought her for twenty minæ; and may your deal never prosper! That amount will be paid for her.
San. What if I don’t choose to sell her to you? Will you compel me?
San. What if I decide not to sell her to you? Are you going to force me?
Æsch. By no means.
No way.
San. I was afraid you would.
San. I thought you might.
He goes into the house of Micio.
He walks into Micio's house.
Scene II.
Sannio alone.
Sannio solo.
San. (to himself.) O supreme Jupiter! I do by no means wonder that men run mad through ill usage. He has dragged me out of my house, beaten me, taken my property away against my will, and has given me, unfortunate wretch, more than five hundred blows. In return for all this ill usage he demands the girl to be made over to him for just the same price at which she was bought. But however, since he has so well deserved of me, be it so: he demands what is his due. Very well, I consent then, provided he only gives the money. But I suspect this; when I have said that I will sell her for so much, he’ll be getting witnesses forthwith that I have sold her.36 As to getting the money, it’s all a dream. Call again by and by; come back to-morrow. I could bear with 210 that too, hard as it is, if he would only pay it. But I consider this to be the fact; when you take up this trade, you must brook and bear in silence the affronts of these young fellows. However, no one will pay me; it’s in vain for me to be reckoning upon that.
San. (to himself.) Oh, great Jupiter! I really don’t blame men for going crazy from bad treatment. He pulled me out of my house, beat me, took my property away without my consent, and has dealt me, poor me, more than five hundred blows. In return for all this mistreatment, he wants the girl to be handed over to him for the same price she was bought for. But anyway, since he has so well deserved this from me, fine: he wants what he’s owed. Alright, I agree then, as long as he pays me. But I have my doubts; once I say that I will sell her for that amount, he’ll quickly get witnesses to claim that I sold her.36 As for actually getting the money, that’s just a fantasy. Come back later; come back tomorrow. I could handle that too, hard as it is, if he would just pay. But I think this is the reality; when you get into this line of work, you have to endure and silently put up with the insults from these young guys. Still, no one will pay me; it’s pointless for me to expect that.
Scene III.
Enter Syrus, from the house of Micio.
Enter Syrus, from the house of Micio.
Syr. (speaking to Æschinus within.) Say no more; I myself will arrange with him; I’ll make him glad to take the money at once, and say besides that he has been fairly dealt with. (Addressing Sannio.) Sannio, how is this, that I hear you have been having some dispute or other with my master?
Syrup. (speaking to Æschinus inside.) Don't say anything else; I'll handle it myself. I'll make sure he's happy to take the money right away and that he feels he's been treated fairly. (Addressing Sannio.) Sannio, what's going on? I hear you've had some kind of disagreement with my master?
San. I never saw a dispute on more unequal terms37 than the one that has happened to-day between us; I, with being thumped, he, with beating me, were both of us quite tired.
San. I never saw a conflict on such unequal terms37 as the one that happened today between us; I was getting hit, and he was doing the hitting, and we were both completely worn out.
Syr. Your own fault.
Your own fault.
San. What could I do?
San. What can I do?
Syr. You ought to have yielded to the young man.
Syrup. You should have given in to the young man.
San. How could I more so, when to-day I have even afforded my face to his blows?
San. How could I do more when today I've even let him hit my face?
Syr. Well—are you aware of what I tell you? To slight money on some occasions is sometimes the surest gain. What!—were you afraid, you greatest simpleton alive, if you had parted with ever so little38 of your right, and had humored the young man, that he would not repay you with interest?
Syrup. Well—do you understand what I’m saying? Sometimes, not being too focused on money can be the smartest move. What? Were you really worried, you absolute fool, that if you gave up just a little bit of your right and went along with the young man, he wouldn’t pay you back with interest?
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San. I do not pay ready money for hope.
San. I don't pay cash for hope.
Syr. Then you’ll never make a fortune. Get out with you, Sannio; you don’t know how to take in mankind.
Syrup. Then you’ll never make a fortune. Get lost, Sannio; you don’t know how to understand people.
San. I believe that to be the better plan—but I was never so cunning as not, whenever I was able to get it, to prefer getting ready money.
San. I think that’s the better plan—but I was never so clever that I didn't always prefer cash whenever I could get it.
Syr. Come, come, I know your spirit; as if twenty minæ were any thing at all to you in comparison to obliging him; besides, they say that you are setting out for Cyprus——
Syrup. Come on, I know what you’re really like; as if twenty minæ meant anything to you compared to helping him. Besides, I’ve heard you’re getting ready to head to Cyprus—
San. (aside.) Hah!
San. (aside.) Haha!
Syr. That you have been buying up many things to take thither; and that the vessel is hired. This I know, your mind is in suspense; however, when you return thence, I hope you’ll settle the matter.
Syrup. I know you’ve been collecting a lot of things to take there, and that you’ve hired the boat. I can tell you’re feeling uncertain, but I hope that when you come back, you’ll figure everything out.
San. Not a foot do I stir: Heavens! I’m undone! (Aside.) It was upon this hope they devised their project.
San. I won’t move an inch: Oh no! I’m in big trouble! (Aside.) It was based on this hope that they came up with their plan.
Syr. (aside.) He is alarmed. I’ve brought the fellow into a fix.
Syrup. (aside.) He's freaked out. I've gotten him into a jam.
San. (aside.) Oh, what villainy!—Just look at that; how he has nicked me in the very joint.39 Several women have been purchased, and other things as well, for me to take to Cyprus.40 If I don’t get there to the fair, my loss will be very great. Then if I postpone this business, and settle it when I come back from there, it will be of no use; the matter will be quite forgotten. “Come at last?” they’ll say. “Why did you delay it? Where have you been?” So that I had better lose it altogether than either stay here so long, or be suing for it then.
San. (aside.) Oh, what a disgrace!—Just look at this; he has cut me right in the joint.39 Several women and other things have been bought for me to take to Cyprus.40 If I don't make it to the fair, I'll suffer a huge loss. If I put off this business and try to handle it when I get back, it won't matter; everyone will have forgotten about it. “You finally showed up?” they’ll say. “Why did you wait? Where have you been?” So, I’d rather lose it completely than stick around here too long or be begging for it later.
Syr. Have you by this reckoned41 up what you calculate will be your profits?
Syrup. Have you figured out what you think your profits will be?
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San. Is this honorable of him? Ought Æschinus to attempt this? Ought he to endeavor to take her away from me by downright violence?
San. Is this honorable for him? Should Æschinus try this? Should he even attempt to take her away from me by outright force?
Syr. (aside.) He gives ground. (To Sannio.) I have this one proposal to make; see if you fully approve of it. Rather than you should run the risk, Sannio, of getting or losing the whole, halve it. He will manage to scrape together ten minæ42 from some quarter or other.
Syrup. (aside.) He’s backing down. (To Sannio.) I have one suggestion; see if you agree with it. Instead of you taking the chance of losing everything, let’s split it. He’ll be able to come up with ten minæ42 from somewhere.
San. Ah me! unfortunate wretch, I am now in danger of even losing part of the principal. Has he no shame? He has loosened all my teeth; my head, too, is full of bumps with his cuffs; and would he defraud me as well? I shall go nowhere.
San. Oh, what a miserable person I am! I'm at risk of losing even part of my money. Does he have no decency? He's knocked out all my teeth; my head is covered in bumps from his hits; and now he wants to cheat me too? I'm not going anywhere.
Syr. Just as you please. Have you any thing more to say before I go?
Syracuse. Just as you wish. Do you have anything else to say before I leave?
San. Why yes, Syrus, i’ faith, I have this to request. Whatever the matters that are past, rather than go to law, let what is my own be returned me; at least, Syrus, the sum she cost me. I know that you have not hitherto made trial of my friendship; you will have no occasion to say that I am unmindful or ungrateful.
San. Yes, Syrus, I really do have a request. Instead of going to court over past issues, please just return what is mine; at the very least, give me back the amount she cost me. I know you haven't really tested my friendship before; you won’t be able to say that I’m forgetful or ungrateful.
Syr. I’ll do the best I can. But I see Ctesipho; he’s in high spirits about his mistress.
Syrup. I’ll do my best. But I see Ctesipho; he’s really excited about his girlfriend.
San. What about what I was asking you?
San. What about what I asked you?
Syr. Stay a little.
Syr. Hang on a bit.
Scene IV.
Enter Ctesipho, at the other side of the stage.
Enter Ctesipho from the other side of the stage.
Ctes. From any man, when you stand in need of it, you are glad to receive a service; but of a truth it is doubly acceptable, if he does you a kindness who ought to do so. O brother, brother, how can I sufficiently commend you? This I am quite sure of; I can never speak of you in such high terms but that your deserts will surpass it. For I am of opinion that I possess this one thing in especial beyond all 213 others, a brother than whom no individual is more highly endowed with the highest qualities.
Ctes. Anyone can help you when you need it, and you’re always grateful for that; but it’s especially welcome when the person doing you a favor is someone who should. Oh brother, brother, how can I praise you enough? I know for sure that no matter how much I commend you, your worthiness will always outshine my words. I truly believe that I have one exceptional thing above all else: a brother who is more gifted than anyone else with the finest qualities. 213
Syr. O Ctesipho!
Syr. Oh Ctesipho!
Ctes. O Syrus, where is Æschinus?
Ctes. O Syrus, where's Æschinus?
Syr. Why, look—he’s at home, waiting for you.
Syringe. Look—he’s at home, waiting for you.
Ctes. (speaking joyously.) Ha!
Ha!
Syr. What’s the matter?
Syr. What’s wrong?
Ctes. What’s the matter? ’Tis through him, Syrus, that I am now alive—generous creature! Has he not deemed every thing of secondary importance to himself in comparison with my happiness? The reproach, the discredit, my own amour and imprudence, he has taken upon himself. There can be nothing beyond this; but what means that noise at the door?
Ctes. What's going on? It's because of him, Syrus, that I'm alive—such a generous person! Hasn't he considered everything else less important than my happiness? He's taken on the blame, the shame, my own love life and foolishness. There can't be anything more than this; but what's that noise at the door?
Syr. Stay, stay; ’tis Æschinus himself coming out.
Syr. Wait, wait; it’s Æschinus himself coming out.
Scene V.
Enter Æschinus, from the house of Micio.
Enter Æschinus, from Micio's house.
Æsch. Where is that villain?
Æsch. Where's that villain?
San. (aside.) He’s looking for me.43 Is he bringing any thing with him? Confusion! I don’t see any thing.
San. (aside.) He’s looking for me.43 Is he bringing anything with him? Confusion! I don’t see anything.
Æsch. (to Ctesipho.) Ha! well met; you are the very man I was looking for. How goes it, Ctesipho? All is safe: away then with your melancholy.
Æsch. (to Ctesipho.) Hey! Great to see you; you’re exactly the person I was hoping to find. How’s it going, Ctesipho? Everything is fine, so let go of your sadness.
Ctes. By my troth, I certainly will away with it, when I have such a brother as you. O my dear Æschinus! O my brother! Alas! I am unwilling to praise you any more to your face, lest you should think I do so rather for flattery than through gratitude.
Ctes. Honestly, I definitely will get rid of it when I have a brother like you. Oh my dear Æschinus! Oh my brother! Unfortunately, I don't want to compliment you any more in person, so you don't think I'm just flattering you instead of expressing my gratitude.
Æsch. Go to, you simpleton! as though we didn’t by this time understand each other, Ctesipho. This grieves me, that we knew of it almost too late, and that the matter had come to such a pass, that if all mankind had wished they could not possibly have assisted you.
Æsch. Come on, you fool! As if we didn't understand each other by now, Ctesipho. It really bothers me that we found out about this almost too late, and that things have gotten to a point where, even if everyone wanted to, they couldn't possibly help you.
Ctes. I felt ashamed.
I felt ashamed.
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Æsch. Pooh! that is folly, not shame; about such a trifling matter to be almost flying the country!44 ’Tis shocking to be mentioned; I pray the Gods may forbid it!
Æsch. Ugh! That’s ridiculous, not shameful; to run away over something so insignificant! 44 It’s disgraceful to even bring it up; I hope the Gods prevent it!
Ctes. I did wrong.
I messed up.
Æsch. (in a lower voice.) What says Sannio to us at last?
Æsch. (in a lower voice.) What does Sannio finally say to us?
Syr. He is pacified at last.
Syr. He’s finally calmed down.
Æsch. I’ll go to the Forum to pay him off; you, Ctesipho, step in-doors to her.
Æsch. I’ll head to the Forum to settle things with him; you, Ctesipho, go inside to her.
San. (aside to Syrus.) Syrus, do urge the matter.
San. (aside to Syrus.) Syrus, please push the issue.
Syr. (to Æschinus.) Let us be off, for he is in haste for Cyprus.45
Syrup. (to Æschinus.) Let's go, because he’s in a hurry to get to Cyprus.45
San. Not particularly so; although still, I’m stopping here doing nothing at all.
San. Not really; I’m just sitting here doing nothing at all.
Syr. It shall be paid, don’t fear.
Syrup. It will be paid, don’t worry.
San. But he is to pay it all.
San. But he's the one who has to cover all of it.
Syr. He shall pay it all; only hold your tongue and follow us this way.
Syrup. He’ll pay it all; just keep quiet and follow us this way.
San. I’ll follow.
San. I'm in.
Ctes. (as Syrus is going.) Harkye, harkye, Syrus.
Hey, hey, Syrus.
Syr. (turning back.) Well now, what is it?
Syrup. (turning back.) So, what’s going on?
Ctes. (aside.) Pray do discharge that most abominable fellow as soon as possible; for fear, in case he should become more angry, by some means or other this matter should reach my father, and then I should be ruined forever.
Cites. (aside.) Please get rid of that awful guy as quickly as you can; I'm worried that if he gets angrier, somehow this will get back to my dad, and then I'll be ruined for good.
Syr. That shall not happen, be of good heart; meanwhile enjoy yourself in-doors with her, and onder the couches46 to be spread for us, and the other things to be got ready. As soon as this business is settled, I shall come home with the provisions.
Syrup. That won’t happen, stay positive; for now, have a good time indoors with her, and prepare the couches46 for us, along with everything else we need to get ready. As soon as this situation is sorted out, I’ll come back with the supplies.
Ctes. Pray do so. Since this has turned out so well, let us 215 make a cheerful day of it.
Ctes. Please do. Since this has gone so well, let’s make a happy day of it. 215
Ctesipho goes into the house of Micio; and exeunt Æschinus and Syrus, followed by Sannio.
Ctesipho enters Micio's house; and Æschinus and Syrus leave, followed by Sannio.
ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Sostrata and Canthara, from the house of the former.
Enter Sostrata and Canthara, from the house of the former.
Sos. Prithee, my dear nurse, how is it like to end?
SOS. Please, my dear nurse, what is it like to die?
Can. Like to end, do you ask? I’troth, right well, I trust.
Can. Want me to wrap this up, do you? I truly believe I can.
Sos. Her pains are just beginning, my dear.
SOS. Her suffering is just starting, my dear.
Can. You are in a fright now, just as though you had never been present on such an occasion—never been in labor yourself.
Can. You’re feeling scared right now, just like you’ve never been there in a situation like this—like you’ve never gone through labor yourself.
Sos. Unfortunate woman that I am! I have not a person at home; we are quite alone; Geta too is absent. I have no one to go for the midwife, or to fetch Æschinus.
SOS. What a miserable woman I am! I don't have anyone at home; we are completely alone; Geta is also gone. I have no one to fetch the midwife or to bring Æschinus.
Can. I’faith, he’ll certainly be here just now, for he never lets a day pass without visiting us.
Can. Seriously, he’ll definitely be here any minute now, because he never misses a day without coming to see us.
Sos. He is my sole comfort in my afflictions.
SOS. He is my only source of comfort in my struggles.
Can. Things could not have happened, mistress, more for the advantage of your daughter than they have, seeing that violence was offered her; so far as he is concerned, it is most lucky,—such a person, of such disposition and feelings, a member of so respectable a family.
Can. Nothing could have worked out better for your daughter, given the circumstances, since she faced some hostility; as for him, it’s incredibly fortunate—having someone with his attitude and feelings, from such a respectable family.
Sos. It is indeed as you say; I entreat the Gods that he may be preserved to us.
SOS. You're right; I truly hope the Gods keep him safe for us.
They stand apart, on seeing Geta.
They stand apart upon seeing Geta.
Scene II.
Enter Geta, on the other side of the stage.
Enter Geta from the other side of the stage.
Geta (to himself.) Now such is our condition, that if all were to combine all their counsels, and to seek a remedy for this mischief that has befallen myself, my mistress, and her daughter, they could find no relief. Oh wretched me! so many calamities beset us on a sudden, we can not possibly 216 extricate ourselves. Violence, poverty, oppression, desertion, infamy! What an age is this! O shocking villainy! O accursed race! O impious man!—
Geta (to himself.) Our situation is such that even if everyone teamed up to find a solution for the disaster that has struck me, my mistress, and her daughter, they wouldn't be able to help us. Oh, how miserable I am! So many misfortunes have suddenly overwhelmed us that we can't possibly get ourselves out. Violence, poverty, oppression, abandonment, disgrace! What a time we live in! Oh, what terrible villainy! Oh, cursed people! Oh, wicked man!—
Sos. Unhappy me! How is it that I see Geta hurrying along thus terrified?
SOS. Poor me! Why do I see Geta rushing by, looking so scared?
Geta (continuing.) Whom neither promises, nor oaths, nor compassion could move or soften; nor yet the fact that the delivery was nigh at hand of the unfortunate woman on whom he had so shamefully committed violence.
Geta (continuing.) Who was not swayed or softened by promises, oaths, or even compassion; nor by the fact that the time was almost here for the unfortunate woman he had so shamefully harmed to give birth.
Sos. (apart to Canthara.) I don’t well understand what he is talking about.
SOS. (aside to Canthara.) I don’t really get what he’s talking about.
Can. Pray, let us go nearer to him, Sostrata.
Can. Please, let's go closer to him, Sostrata.
Geta (continuing.) Ah wretched me! I am scarcely master of my senses, I am so inflamed with anger. There is nothing that I would like better than for all that family to be thrown in my way, that I might give vent to all my wrath upon them while this wound is still fresh. I could be content with any punishment, so I might only wreak my vengeance on them. First, I would stop the breath of the old fellow himself who gave being to this monster; then as for his prompter, Syrus, out upon him! how I would tear him piecemeal! I would snatch him by the middle up aloft, and dash him head downward upon the earth, so that with his brains he would bestrew the road: I would pull out the eyes of the young fellow himself, and afterward hurl him headlong over some precipice. The others I would rush upon, drive, drag, crush, and trample them under foot. But why do I delay at once to acquaint my mistress with this calamity? (Moves as if going.)
Geta (continuing.) Oh, wretched me! I can barely think straight; I’m so filled with rage. There’s nothing I want more than for that entire family to cross my path so I can unleash all my anger on them while this wound is still fresh. I’d accept any punishment as long as I could take my revenge on them. First, I’d end the life of the old man who brought this monster into the world; then as for his accomplice, Syrus—oh, how I’d tear him apart! I’d lift him by the middle and smash him down headfirst onto the ground, scattering his brains all over the road. I’d gouge out the eyes of that young guy and then throw him headlong over some cliff. The others, I’d charge at, drive away, drag, crush, and trample them underfoot. But why am I hesitating to tell my mistress about this disaster? (Moves as if going.)
Sos. (to Canthara.) Let us call him back. Geta——
SOS. (to Canthara.) Let's call him back. Geta——
Sos. ’Tis I,—Sostrata.
Sos. It’s me,—Sostrata.
Geta (turning round.) Why, where are you? You are the very person I am looking for. I was in quest of you; it’s very fortunate you have met me.
Geta (turning around.) Hey, where are you? You’re exactly the person I’ve been searching for. I was looking for you; it’s really lucky you ran into me.
Sos. What’s the matter? Why are you trembling?
SOS. What’s wrong? Why are you shaking?
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Geta. Alas! Alas!
Geta. Oh no! Oh no!
Sos. My dear Geta, why in such haste? Do take breath.
SOS. My dear Geta, why the rush? Take a moment to breathe.
Geta. Quite—(pauses.)
Geta. Um—(pauses.)
Sos. Why, what means this “quite”?
Sos. Why does this say "quite"?
Geta. Undone—It’s all over with us.
Geta. It’s finished—everything is done between us.
Sos. Say, then, I entreat you, what is the matter.
Help. So, please tell me, what's going on?
Geta. Now——
Geta. Now—
Sos. What “now,” Geta?
Sos. What’s up now, Geta?
Geta. Æschinus——
Geta. Æschinus——
Sos. What about him?
Sos. What about him?
Geta. Has abandoned our family.
Geta. Has left our family.
Sos. Then I am undone! Why so?
SOS. Then I'm finished! Why is that?
Geta. He has attached himself to another woman.
Geta (wooden sandals). He has linked himself to another woman.
Sos. Woe unto wretched me!
Sos. Woe is me!
Geta. And he makes no secret of it; he himself has carried her off openly from a procurer.
Geta. And he doesn't hide it; he openly took her away from a pimp.
Sos. Are you quite sure of this?
SOS. Are you really sure about this?
Geta. Quite sure; I saw it myself, Sostrata, with these same eyes.
Geta. I'm positive; I saw it myself, Sostrata, with my own eyes.
Sos. Ah wretched me! What is one now to believe, or whom believe? Our own Æschinus, the very life of us all, in whom all our hopes and comforts were centred! Who used to swear he could never live a single day without her! Who used to say, that he would place the infant on his father’s knees,48 and thus entreat that he might be allowed to make her his wife!
SOS. Oh, how miserable I am! What are we supposed to believe now, or who can we trust? Our own Æschinus, the essence of our lives, in whom all our hopes and comforts were focused! He used to swear he couldn’t get through a single day without her! He would say that he would put the baby on his father's lap, 48 and ask for permission to make her his wife!
Geta. Dear mistress, forbear weeping, and rather consider what must be done for the future in this matter. Shall we submit to it, or shall we tell it to any person?
Geta. Dear mistress, please stop crying and think about what we need to do moving forward. Should we just accept this, or should we talk to someone about it?
Can. Pooh, pooh! are you in your senses, my good man? Does this seem to you a business to be made known to any one?
Sure. Come on, are you serious, my good man? Do you really think this is something that should be shared with anyone?
Geta. I, indeed, have no wish for it. In the first place, then, that his feelings are estranged from us, the thing itself declares. Now, if we make this known, he’ll deny it, I’m quite sure; your reputation and your daughter’s character will then be in danger. On the other hand, if he were fully to confess it, as he is in love with another woman, it would 218 not be to her advantage to be given to him. Therefore, under either circumstance, there is need of silence.
Geta. I really don’t want it. First of all, it's clear that his feelings are distant from us. If we bring this up, he’ll definitely deny it; I’m certain of that. Your reputation and your daughter’s character will then be at risk. On the other hand, if he fully admits it, being in love with another woman, it wouldn’t benefit her to be engaged to him. So, in either case, we need to keep quiet. 218
Sos. Oh! by no means in the world! I’ll not do it.
SOS. Oh! No way am I doing that!
Geta. What is it you say?
Geta. What are you talking about?
Sos. I’ll make it known.
Sos. I’ll let it be known.
Geta. Ha, my dear Sostrata, take care what you do!
Geta sandals. Ha, my dear Sostrata, be careful with what you do!
Sos. The matter can not possibly be in a worse position than it is at present. In the first place, she has no portion; then, besides, that which was as good as a portion, her honor, is lost: she can not be given in marriage as a virgin. This resource is left; if he should deny it, I have a ring which he lost as evidence of the truth. In fine, Geta, as I am fully conscious that no blame attaches to me, and that neither interest nor any consideration unworthy of her or of myself has had a share in this matter, I will make trial——
SOS. Things couldn't possibly be worse than they are right now. First, she has no dowry; furthermore, what was basically her dowry, her honor, is gone. She can’t be married as a virgin. This option is left; if he denies it, I have a ring he lost that proves the truth. Anyway, Geta, since I’m fully aware that I’m not to blame and that neither selfish motives nor anything unworthy of her or myself played a part in this, I will make an attempt——
Geta. What am I to say to this? I agree, as you speak for the best.
Geta. What am I supposed to say to this? I agree, because you speak the truth.
Sos. You be off as fast as possible, and relate all the matter just as it has happened to her kinsman Hegio; for he was the best friend of our lamented Simulus, and has shown especial regard for us.
SOS. Get out of here as quickly as you can and explain everything that happened to her relative Hegio; he was the closest friend of our lamented Simulus and has shown us special kindness.
Geta. (aside.) Aye, faith, because nobody else takes any notice of us.
Geta (Japanese wooden sandals). (aside.) Yeah, for sure, because no one else pays any attention to us.
Sos. Do you, my dear Canthara, run with all haste, and fetch the midwife, so that, when she is wanted, we may not have to wait for her.
SOS. Do you, my dear Canthara, run quickly and get the midwife, so that when she's needed, we won't have to wait for her.
Sostrata goes into the house, and exit Geta and Canthara.
Sostrata enters the house, and Geta and Canthara leave.
Scene III.
Enter Demea.
Enter Demea.
Dem. (to himself.) Utterly undone! I hear that Ctesipho was with Æschinus at the carrying off of this girl. This sorrow still remains for unhappy me, should Æschinus be able to seduce him, even him, who promises so fair, to a course of debauchery. Where am I to inquire for him? I doubt he has been carried off to some bad house; that profligate has persuaded him, I’m quite sure. But look—I see Syrus coming this way, I shall now know from him where he is. But, i’faith, he is one of the gang; if he perceives that I 219 am looking for him, the rascal will never tell me. I’ll not let him know what I want.
Dem. (to himself.) Completely overwhelmed! I hear that Ctesipho was with Æschinus when they took this girl. This pain still lingers for poor me, if Æschinus manages to lead him astray, even him, who seems so promising, into a life of indulgence. Where should I look for him? I suspect he’s been taken to some shady place; that corrupt guy has definitely convinced him, I’m sure of it. But wait—I see Syrus coming this way, he’ll be able to tell me where he is. But, honestly, he’s part of the problem; if he realizes I’m looking for him, that jerk will never spill the beans. I won’t let him know what I’m after.
Scene IV.
Enter Syrus, at the other side of the stage.
Enter Syrus, on the other side of the stage.
Syr. (to himself.) We just now told the old gentleman the whole affair just as it happened; I never did see any one more delighted.
Syringe. (to himself.) We just told the old man everything that happened; I’ve never seen anyone more thrilled.
Dem. (apart.) O Jupiter! the folly of the man!
Dem. (apart.) Oh Jupiter! what a fool he is!
Syr. (continuing.) He commended his son. To me, who put them upon this project, he gave thanks——
Syrup. (continuing.) He praised his son. To me, who encouraged them to take on this project, he expressed gratitude——
Dem. (apart) I shall burst asunder.
Dem. (apart) I'm going to explode.
Syr. (continuing.) He told down the money instantly, and gave me half a mina besides to spend. That was laid out quite to my liking.
Syrup. (continuing.) He handed over the money right away, and gave me an extra half mina to spend. I used that exactly how I wanted.
Dem. (apart.) Very fine—if you would wish a thing to be nicely managed, intrust it to this fellow.
Dem. (apart.) Very nice—if you want something to be well handled, give it to this guy.
Syr. (overhearing him.) Ha, Demea! I didn’t see you; how goes it?
Syrup. (overhearing him.) Hey, Demea! I didn’t see you there; how’s it going?
Dem. How should it go? I can not enough wonder at your mode of living here.
Dem. How is this supposed to work? I can't help but marvel at your way of living here.
Syr. Why, really silly enough, and, to speak without disguise, altogether absurd. (Calls at the door of Micio’s house.) Dromo, clean the rest of the fish; let the largest conger-eel play a little in the water; when I come back it shall be boned;49 not before.
Syrup. Honestly, that's just really foolish, and to be completely straightforward, it's totally ridiculous. (Calls at the door of Micio's house.) Dromo, finish cleaning the rest of the fish; let the biggest conger eel swim around a bit; when I get back, it will be filleted;49 not before.
Dem. Is profligacy like this——
Dem. Is extravagance like this——
Syr. As for myself, it isn’t to my taste, and I often exclaim against it. (Calls at the door.) Stephanio, take care that the salt fish is well soaked.
Syrup. I don’t really like it, and I often complain about it. (Calls at the door.) Stephanio, make sure the salt fish is soaked properly.
Dem. Ye Gods, by our trust in you! is he doing this for any purpose of his own, or does he think it creditable to ruin his son? Wretch that I am! methinks I already see the day when Æschinus will be running away for want, to serve somewhere or other as a soldier.50
Dem. Oh my God, do we trust in you! Is he doing this for his own reasons, or does he think it's honorable to ruin his son? What a miserable person I am! I can already picture the day when Æschinus will have to run off and find work as a soldier out of desperation. 50
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Syr. O Demea! that is wisdom indeed,—not only to look at the present moment, but also to look forward to what’s to come.
Syrup. Oh Demea! That is true wisdom— not just to focus on the present, but also to think about what’s ahead.
Dem. Well—is this Music-girl still with you?
Dem. So, is the music girl still around?
Syr. Why, yes, she’s in-doors.
Syr. Yeah, she's inside.
Dem. How now—is he going to keep her at home?
Dem. So what's the deal—is he going to make her stay home?
Syr. I believe so; such is his madness!
Syrup. I think so; that's how crazy he is!
Dem. Is it possible?
Dem. Is it possible?
Syr. An imprudent lenity in his father, and a vicious indulgence.
Syrup. A careless leniency from his father and a harmful indulgence.
Dem. Really, I am ashamed and grieved at my brother.
Dem. Honestly, I feel embarrassed and upset about my brother.
Syr. Demea! between you there is a great—I do not say it because you are here present—a too great difference. You are, every bit of you, nothing but wisdom; he a mere dreamer. Would you indeed have suffered that son of yours to act thus?
Syrup. Demea! There is a huge—I don’t say this just because you’re here—an overwhelming difference between you two. You are nothing but wisdom; he’s just a mere dreamer. Would you really have allowed your son to act this way?
Dem. I, suffer him? Would I not have smelt it out six months before he attempted it?
Dem. Me, let him? Wouldn't I have figured it out six months before he tried it?
Syr. Need I be told by you of your foresight?
Syrup. Do I really need you to tell me about your foresight?
Dem. I pray he may only continue the same he is at present!
Dem. I hope he stays exactly as he is right now!
Syr. Just as each person wishes his son to be, so he turns out.
Syrup. Just like everyone hopes their son will be, that's how he ends up.
Dem. What news of him? Have you seen him to-day?
Dem. What's the update on him? Have you seen him today?
Syr. What, your son? (Aside.) I’ll pack him off into the country. (To Demea.) I fancy he’s busy at the farm long before this.
Syrup. What, your son? (Aside.) I’ll send him off to the countryside. (To Demea.) I bet he's been hard at work on the farm by now.
Dem. Are you quite sure he is there?
Dem. Are you really sure he’s there?
Syr. What!—when I saw him part of the way myself——
Syrup. What!—when I saw him go part of the way myself——
Dem. Very good. I was afraid he might be loitering here.
Dem. Great. I was worried he might be hanging around here.
Syr. And extremely angry too.
Syr. And really angry too.
Dem. Why so?
Dem. Why is that?
Syr. He attacked his brother in the Forum with strong language about this Music-girl.
Syrup. He confronted his brother in the Forum with harsh words about this Music-girl.
Dem. Do you really say so?
Dem. Do you really mean that?
Syr. Oh dear, he didn’t at all mince the matter; for just 221 as the money was being counted out, the gentleman came upon us by chance, and began exclaiming, “Oh Æschinus, that you should perpetrate these enormities! that you should be guilty of actions so disgraceful to our family!”
Syringe. Oh no, he didn't hold back at all; just as the money was being counted, the gentleman happened to come across us and started shouting, “Oh Æschinus, how could you do such terrible things! How can you be involved in actions so embarrassing to our family!”
Dem. Oh, I shall weep for joy.
Dem. Oh, I will cry tears of joy.
Syr. “By this you are not squandering your money only, but your reputation.”
Syrup. “You're not just wasting your money but your reputation too.”
Dem. May he be preserved to me! I trust he will be like his forefathers. (Weeping.)
Dem. May he be kept safe for me! I hope he will be like his ancestors. (Weeping.)
Syr. (aside.) Heyday!
Syr. (aside.) Awesome!
Dem. Syrus, he is full of these maxims.
Dem. Syrus, he has a lot of these sayings.
Syr. (aside.) Strange, indeed! He had the means at home of learning them.
Syringe. (aside.) That's really strange! He could have learned them right at home.
Dem. I do every thing I can; I spare no pains; I train him up to it: in fine, I bid him look into the lives of men, as though into a mirror, and from others to take an example for himself. Do this, I say——
Dem. I do everything I can; I hold nothing back; I train him for it. Basically, I tell him to look at the lives of others as if they were a mirror, and to use them as examples for himself. Do this, I say——
Syr. Quite right.
Syr. Exactly.
Dem. Avoid that——
Dem. Stay away from that——
Syr. Very shrewd.
Syr. Very clever.
Dem. This is praiseworthy——
Dem. This is commendable——
Syr. That’s the thing.
Syr. That's the point.
Dem. That is considered blamable——
That's considered blameworthy—
Syr. Extremely good.
Syr. Really great.
Dem. And then, moreover——
Dem. And then, additionally—
Syr. Upon my honor, I have not the leisure to listen to you just at present: I have got some fish just to my taste, and must take care they are not spoiled; for that would be as much a crime in me, as for you, Demea, not to observe those maxims which you have just been mentioning; and so far as I can, I lay down precepts for my fellow-servants on the very same plan; “this is too salt, that is quite burned up, this is not washed enough, that is very well done; remember and do so another time.” I carefully instruct them so far as I can to the best of my capacity. In short, Demea, I bid them look into their sauce-pans as though into a mirror,51 and suggest to them what they ought to do. I am sensible these things are trifling which we do; but what is one to do? 222 According as the man is, so must you humor him. Do you wish any thing else?
Syrup. Honestly, I don’t have time to listen to you right now: I’ve got some fish that I really like, and I need to make sure they don’t go bad; because that would be just as much of a mistake for me as it would be for you, Demea, not to follow those principles you just mentioned. As much as I can, I try to give advice to my fellow workers based on the same idea; “this is too salty, that’s overcooked, this isn’t washed enough, that’s well done; remember to do this next time.” I carefully teach them as best as I can. In short, Demea, I tell them to check their saucepans as if they were looking in a mirror, 51 and suggest what they should do. I know these things seem trivial that we do; but what can one do? 222 You have to accommodate the person as they are. Do you need anything else?
Dem. That more wisdom may be granted you.
Dem. I hope you receive even more wisdom.
Syr. You will be going off into the country, I suppose?
Syrup. You're heading out to the countryside, I assume?
Dem. Directly.
Dem. Directly.
Syr. For what should you do here, where, if you do give any good precepts, no one will regard them?
Syrup. What are you doing here, when even if you share good advice, no one will pay attention to it?
Goes into Micio’s house.
Goes into Micio's house.
Scene V.
Demea, alone.
Demea, alone.
Dem. (to himself.) I certainly will be off, as he on whose account I came hither has gone into the country. I have a care for him: that alone is my own concern, since my brother will have it so; let him look to the other himself. But who is it I see yonder at a distance? Isn’t it Hegio of our tribe?52 If I see right, i’faith, it is he. Ah, a man I have been friendly with from a child! Good Gods! we certainly have a great dearth of citizens of that stamp nowadays, with the old-fashioned virtue and honesty. Not in a hurry will any misfortune accrue to the public from him. How glad I am to find some remnants of this race even still remaining; now I feel some pleasure in living. I’ll wait here for him, to ask him how he is, and have some conversation with him.
Dem. (to himself.) I guess I should leave since the reason I came here has gone to the countryside. I care about him; that’s my only concern since my brother insists on it. Let him handle the rest himself. But who is that I see in the distance? Isn’t it Hegio from our tribe? 52 If I’m seeing this right, it really is him. Ah, a guy I’ve been friends with since we were kids! Goodness! We really lack citizens like him these days, with the old-school virtue and honesty. No disaster will come to the public from him anytime soon. I’m so glad to see some remnants of this kind still around; now I’m actually happy to be alive. I’ll wait here for him to ask how he’s doing and have a chat.
Scene VI.
Enter Hegio and Geta, conversing, at a distance.
Enter Hegio and Geta, talking from afar.
Heg. Oh immortal Gods! a disgraceful action, Geta! What is it you tell me?
Heg. Oh immortal Gods! What a disgraceful thing to do, Geta! What are you saying to me?
Geta. Such is the fact.
Geta. That's the truth.
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223
Heg. That so ignoble a deed should come from that family! Oh Æschinus, assuredly you haven’t taken after your father in that!
Heg. It’s shocking that such a disgraceful act could come from that family! Oh Æschinus, there’s no way you got that from your father!
Dem. (apart.) Why surely, he has heard this about the Music-girl; that gives him concern, though a stranger; this father of his thinks nothing of it. Ah me! I wish he were somewhere close at hand to overhear this.
Dem. (apart.) Of course, he’s heard about the Music-girl; that's bothering him, even though he’s a stranger; his father doesn’t care at all. Oh, I wish he were nearby to overhear this.
Heg. Unless they do as they ought to do, they shall not come off so easily.
Heg. If they don't do what they're supposed to, they won't get off the hook so easily.
Geta. All our hopes, Hegio, are centred in you; you we have for our only friend; you are our protector, our father. The old man, Simulus, when dying, recommended us to you; if you forsake us, we are undone.
Geta sandals. All our hopes, Hegio, rest on you; you are our only friend; you are our protector, our father. The old man, Simulus, entrusted us to you on his deathbed; if you abandon us, we are doomed.
Heg. Beware how you mention that; I neither will do it, nor do I think thaat; with due regard to the ties of relationship, I could.
Heg. Be careful how you bring that up; I won't do it, and I don't think that either; out of respect for our relationship, I could.
Dem. (apart.) I’ll accost him. (Approaches Hegio.) Hegio, I bid you welcome right heartily.
Dem. (apart.) I’ll go talk to him. (Approaches Hegio.) Hegio, I warmly welcome you.
Heg. (starting.) Oh! I you are the very man I was looking for. Greetings to you, Demea.
Heg. (starting.) Oh! You are exactly the person I was looking for. Hello, Demea.
Dem. Why, what’s the matter?
Dem. What's wrong?
Heg. Your eldest son Æschinus, whom you gave to your brother to adopt, has been acting the part of neither an honest man nor a gentleman.
Heg. Your oldest son Æschinus, whom you handed over to your brother for adoption, has been behaving like neither an honest person nor a gentleman.
Dem. What has he been doing?
Dem. What’s he been up to?
Heg. You knew my friend and year’s-mate, Simulus?
Heg. Did you know my friend and classmate, Simulus?
Dem. Why not?
Dem. Why not?
Heg. He has debauched his daughter, a virgin.
Hegemony. He has corrupted his daughter, a virgin.
Dem. Hah!
Dem. Haha!
Heg. Stay, Demea. You have not yet heard the worst.
Heg. Wait, Demea. You haven't heard the worst part yet.
Dem. Is there any thing still worse?
Dem. Is there anything worse than this?
Heg. Worse, by far: for this indeed might in some measure have been borne with. The hour of night prompted him; passion, wine, young blood; ’tis human nature. When he was sensible of what he had done, he came voluntarily to the girl’s mother, weeping, praying, entreating, pledging his honor, vowing that he would take her home.53 The affair was pardoned, hushed, up, his word taken. The girl from that intercourse became pregnant: this is the tenth month. 224 He, worthy fellow, has provided himself, if it please the Gods, with a Music-girl to live with; the other he has cast off.
Heg. Worse, by far: because this could have been tolerated to some extent. The late hour influenced him; emotions, alcohol, youthful energy; it's human nature. When he realized what he had done, he went to the girl’s mother, crying, pleading, begging, assuring her of his honor, promising that he would take her home.53 The situation was forgiven, kept quiet, and he was trusted. The girl from that encounter ended up pregnant: this is the tenth month. 224 He, the noble guy, has managed to find himself a music girl to live with; the other one he has left behind.
Dem. Do you say this for certain?
Dem. Are you saying this for sure?
Heg. The mother of the young woman is among us,54 the young woman too; the fact speaks for itself; this Geta, besides, according to the common run of servants, not a bad one or of idle habits; he supports them; alone, maintains the whole family; take him, bind him,55 examine him upon the matter.
Heg. The mother of the young woman is here, and so is the young woman; it’s clear what this means; this Geta, by the usual standards for servants, isn’t bad or lazy; he takes care of them; on his own, he supports the whole family; take him, restrain him, 55 and question him about it.
Geta. Aye, faith, put me to the torture, Demea, if such is not the fact: besides, he will not deny it. Confront me with him.
Geta sandals. Yeah, seriously, go ahead and torture me, Demea, if that’s not true: besides, he won’t deny it. Bring him to me.
Dem. (aside.) I am ashamed; and what to do, or how to answer him, I don’t know.
Dem. (aside.) I'm embarrassed, and I have no idea what to do or how to respond to him.
Pam. (crying out within the house of Sostrata.) Ah me! I am racked with pains! Juno Lucina,56 bring aid, save me, I beseech thee!
Pam. (crying out within the house of Sostrata.) Oh no! I am in so much pain! Juno Lucina,56 please help me, I beg you!
Heg. Hold; is she in labor, pray?
Heg. Wait; is she giving birth, please?
Geta. No doubt of it, Hegio.
Geta. There’s no question about it, Hegio.
Heg. Ah! she is now imploring your protection, Demea; let her obtain from you spontaneously what the power of the law compels you to give. I do entreat the Gods that what befits you may at once be done. But if your sentiments are otherwise, Demea, I will defend both them and him who is dead to the utmost of my power. He was my kinsman:57 we were brought up together from children, we were companions in the wars and at home, together we experienced the hardships of poverty. I will therefore exert myself, strive, use all methods, in fine lay down my life, rather than forsake these women. What answer do you give me?
Heg. Ah! She is now begging for your protection, Demea; let her get from you willingly what the law forces you to provide. I genuinely pray to the Gods that you do what's right immediately. But if you feel differently, Demea, I will defend both her and the one who has died with all my strength. He was my relative: we grew up together since we were kids, fought together in wars and at home, and faced the struggles of poverty together. So, I will do everything I can, fight hard, use every possible means, and even give up my life, rather than abandon these women. What do you say?
Dem. I’ll go find my brother, Hegio: the advice he gives me upon this matter I’ll follow.58
Dem. I’m going to find my brother, Hegio: I’ll take his advice on this matter. 58
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Heg. But, Demea, take you care and reflect upon this: the more easy you are in your circumstances, the more powerful, wealthy, affluent, and noble you are, so much the more ought you with equanimity to observe the dictates of justice, if you would have yourselves esteemed as men of probity.
Heg. But, Demea, think about this: the more comfortable your situation is, the more powerful, wealthy, successful, and noble you are, the more calmly you should follow the principles of justice if you want to be seen as people of integrity.
Dem. Go back now;59 every thing shall be done that is proper to be done.
Dem. Go back now;59 everything that needs to be done will be taken care of.
Heg. It becomes you to act thus. Geta, show me in to Sostrata.
Heg. You should really act this way. Geta, take me in to see Sostrata.
Follows Geta into Sostrata’s house.
Follows Geta into Sostrata’s home.
Dem. (to himself.) Not without warning on my part have these things happened: I only wish it may end here; but this immoderate indulgence will undoubtedly lead to some great misfortune. I’ll go find my brother, and vent these feelings upon him.
Dem. (to himself.) I can’t say I didn’t warn everyone about this: I just hope it stops here; but this excessive indulgence is sure to cause some big trouble. I’m going to find my brother and get this off my chest.
Exit.
Log out.
Scene VII.
Enter Hegio, from Sostrata’s house, and speaking to her within.
Enter Hegio from Sostrata’s house, talking to her inside.
Heg. Be of good heart,60 Sostrata, and take care and console her as far as you can. I’ll go find Micio, if he is at the Forum, and acquaint him with the whole circumstances in their order; if so it is that he will do his duty by you, let him do so; but if his sentiments are otherwise about this matter, let him give me his answer, that I may know at once what I am to do.
Heg. Cheer up, Sostrata, and support her as much as you can. I’ll go look for Micio at the Forum and fill him in on everything that happened in order. If he’s on your side, great; but if he feels differently about this situation, I want to hear his answer right away so I know what to do next.
Exit.
Leave.
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ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Enter Ctesipho and Syrus from the house of Micio.
Enter Ctesipho and Syrus from Micio's house.
Ctes. My father gone into the country, say you?
Ctes. You say my father's gone to the countryside?
Syr. (with a careless air.) Some time since.
Syringe. (with a laid-back vibe.) A while ago.
Ctes. Do tell me, I beseech you.
Ctes., please tell me.
Syr. He is at the farm at this very moment,61 I warrant—hard at some work or other.
Syrup. He’s at the farm right now, 61 I swear—busy with some task or another.
Ctes. I really wish, provided it be done with no prejudice to his health, I wish that he may so effectually tire himself, that, for the next three days together, he may be unable to arise from his bed.
Ctes. I truly hope, as long as it doesn't harm his health, that he tires himself out so much that he can't get out of bed for the next three days.
Syr. So be it, and any thing still better than that,62 if possible.
Syrup. Fine, and anything even slightly better than that, if possible.
Ctes. Just so; for I do most confoundedly wish to pass this whole day in merry-making as I have begun it; and for no reason do I detest that farm so heartily as for its being so near town. If it were at a greater distance, night would overtake him there before he could return hither again. Now, when he doesn’t find me there, he’ll come running back here, I’m quite sure; he’ll be asking me where I have been, that I have not seen him all this day: what am I to say?
Ctes. Exactly; I really want to spend this entire day having fun like I started out. The main reason I dislike that farm so much is that it's too close to town. If it were farther away, he would be stuck there until nightfall before he could come back here. Now, since he won’t find me around, I’m sure he’ll come rushing back here; he’ll want to know where I’ve been since he hasn’t seen me all day. What am I supposed to say?
Syr. Does nothing suggest itself to your mind?
Syr. Does anything come to mind?
Ctes. Nothing whatever.
Ctes. Nothing at all.
Syr. So much the worse63—have you no client, friend, or guest?
Syrup. That's even worse—don't you have any clients, friends, or guests?
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Ctes. I have; what then?
I have; so what?
Syr. You have been engaged with them.
Syr. You've been involved with them.
Ctes. When I have not been engaged? That can never do.
Ctes. When haven't I been busy? That’s just not possible.
Syr. It may.
Syr. It could be.
Ctes. During the daytime; but if I pass the night here, what excuse can I make, Syrus?
Ctes. During the day; but if I stay the night here, what excuse can I give, Syrus?
Syr. Dear me, how much I do wish it was the custom for one to be engaged with friends at night as well! But you be easy; I know his humor perfectly well. When he raves the most violently, I can make him as gentle as a lamb.
Syringe. Oh man, I really wish it was normal to hang out with friends at night too! But don't worry; I know his personality really well. When he gets super worked up, I can calm him down like a soft lamb.
Ctes. In what way?
Ctes. How so?
Syr. He loves to hear you praised: I make a god of you to him, and recount your virtues.
Syrup. He loves to hear you praised: I make a god out of you to him, and talk about your virtues.
Ctes. What, mine?
What, me?
Syr. Yours; immediately the tears fall from him as from a child, for very joy. (Starting.) Hah! take care——
Syrup. Yours; right away, tears start falling from him like a child's, out of pure joy. (Starting.) Hah! Be careful——
Ctes. Why, what’s the matter?
Ctes. What's wrong?
Syr. The wolf in the fable64——
The wolf in the fable __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__——
Ctes. What! my father?
Ctes. What! my dad?
Syr. His own self.
Syr. Himself.
Ctes. What shall we do, Syrus?
Ctes. What should we do, Syrus?
Syr. You only be off in-doors, I’ll see to that.
Syrup. You just stay indoors, I'll make sure of that.
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Ctes. If he makes any inquiries, you have seen me nowhere; do you hear?
Ctes. If he asks any questions, you haven't seen me anywhere; got it?
Syr. Can you not be quiet?
Syr. Can you please be quiet?
They retreat to the door of Micio’s house, and Ctesipho stands in the doorway.
They move back to the door of Micio's house, and Ctesipho stands in the doorway.
Scene II.
Enter Demea, on the other side of the stage.
Enter Demea, on the other side of the stage.
Dem. (to himself.) I certainly am an unfortunate man. In the first place, I can find my brother nowhere; and then, in the next place, while looking for him, I met a day-laborer65 from the farm; he says that my son is not in the country, and what to do I know not——
Dem. (to himself.) I really am an unlucky guy. First off, I can't find my brother anywhere; and then, while searching for him, I ran into a day laborer from the farm. He says my son isn't in the country, and I have no idea what to do—
Ctes. (apart.) Syrus!
Ctes. (apart.) Syrus!
Syr. (apart.) What’s the matter?
Syr. (apart.) What's wrong?
Ctes. (apart.) Is he looking for me?
Ctes. (apart.) Is he trying to find me?
Syr. (apart.) Yes.
Syr. (apart.) Yeah.
Ctes. (apart.) Undone!
Ctes. (apart.) Unraveled!
Syr. (apart.) Nay, do be of good heart.
Syr. (apart.) No, please stay positive.
Dem. (to himself.) Plague on it! what ill luck is this? I can not really account for it, unless I suppose myself only born for the purpose of enduring misery. I am the first to feel our misfortunes; the first to know of them all; then the first to carry the news; I am the only one, if any thing does go wrong, to take it to heart.
Dem. (to himself.) What bad luck! I can’t figure this out, unless I think I’m just meant to suffer. I’m the first to feel our troubles, the first to know about them all, and then the first to spread the word. I’m the only one who takes it to heart when things go wrong.
Syr. (apart.) I’m amused at him; he says that he is the first to know of every thing, while he is the only one ignorant of every thing.
Syrup. (apart.) I find him funny; he claims to be the first to know about everything, yet he's the only one who doesn't know anything.
Dem. (to himself.) I’ve now come back; and I’ll go see whether perchance my brother has yet returned.
Dem. (to himself.) I’m back now; I should check if my brother has returned yet.
Ctes. (apart.) Syrus, pray do take care that he doesn’t suddenly rush in upon us here.
Cte. (apart.) Syrus, please make sure he doesn't burst in on us unexpectedly.
Syr. (apart.) Now will you hold your tongue? I’ll take care.
Syrup. (apart.) Are you going to keep quiet now? I'll handle it.
Ctes. (apart.) Never this day will I depend on your management for that, upon my faith; for I’ll shut myself up 229 with her in some cupboard66—that’s the safest.
Cts. (apart.) I won't rely on your handling of this today, I swear; I’ll just lock myself up 229 with her in some cupboard66—that’s the safest way.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Syr. (apart.) Do so, still I’ll get rid of him.
Syrup. (apart.) Sure, I'll still find a way to get rid of him.
Dem. (seeing Syrus.) But see! there’s that rascal, Syrus.
Dem. (noticing Syrus.) Look! There’s that troublemaker, Syrus.
Syr. (aloud, pretending not to see Demea.) Really, upon my faith, no person can stay here, if this is to be the case! For my part, I should like to know how many masters I have—what a cursed condition this is!
Syrup. (aloud, pretending not to see Demea.) Honestly, I swear, no one can stay here if this is how things are! Personally, I want to know how many masters I have—what a terrible situation this is!
Dem. What’s he whining about? What does he mean? How say you, good sir, is my brother at home?
Dem. What’s he complaining about? What does he mean? Tell me, good sir, is my brother at home?
Syr. What the plague do you talk to me about, “good sir”? I’m quite distracted!
Syrup. What the hell are you talking to me about, “good sir”? I’m really distracted!
Dem. What’s the matter with you?
Dem. What's wrong with you?
Syr. Do you ask the question? Ctesipho has been beating me, poor wretch, and that Music-girl, almost to death.
Syrup. Are you asking the question? Ctesipho has been attacking me, the poor unfortunate, and that Music-girl, nearly to death.
Dem. Ha! what is it you tell me?
Dem. Ha! What are you saying to me?
Syr. Aye, see how he has cut my lip. (Pretends to point to it.)
Syrup. Yeah, look at how he cut my lip. (Pretends to point to it.)
Dem. For what reason?
Dem. Why?
Syr. He says that she was bought by my advice.
Syrup. He claims that she was purchased based on my suggestion.
Dem. Did not you tell me, a short time since, that you had seen him on his way into the country?
Dem. Didn't you just tell me that you saw him on his way into the country?
Syr. I did; but he afterward came back, raving like a madman; he spared nobody—ought he not to have been ashamed to beat an old man? Him whom, only the other day, I used to carry about in my arms when thus high? (Showing.)
Syrup. I did; but he came back later, screaming like a lunatic; he didn’t hold back on anyone—shouldn’t he have felt ashamed for hitting an old man? The same man I used to carry around in my arms when he was this small? (Showing.)
Dem. I commend him; O Ctesipho, you take after your father. Well, I do pronounce you a man.
Dem. I admire him; oh, Ctesipho, you’re just like your father. Well, I declare you a man.
Syr. Commend him? Assuredly he will keep his hands to himself in future, if he’s wise.
Syrup. Praise him? He’ll definitely think twice about keeping his hands to himself in the future, if he’s smart.
Dem. ’Twas done with spirit.
Dem. It was done with spirit.
Syr. Very much so, to be beating a poor woman, and me, a slave, who didn’t dare strike him in return; heyday! very spirited indeed!
Syrup. It's really something, to be hitting a poor woman, and me, a slave, who couldn’t even fight back; wow! that's quite bold!
Dem. He could not have done better: he thought the same as I did, that you were the principal in this affair. But is my brother within?
Dem. He couldn’t have done better: he thought the same as I did, that you were the main person in this situation. But is my brother here?
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Syr. He is not.
Syr. He's not.
Dem. I’m thinking where to look for him.
Dem. I’m trying to figure out where to find him.
Syr. I know where he is—but I shall not tell you at present.
Syrup. I know where he is—but I won't tell you right now.
Dem. Ha! what’s that you say?
Dem. Ha! What did you say?
Syr. I do say so.
Syr. I agree so.
Dem. Then I’ll break your head for you this instant.
Dem. Then I’ll smash your head right now.
Syr. I can’t tell the person’s name he’s gone to, but I know the place where he lives.
Syringe. I can’t say the name of the person he’s gone to, but I know where he lives.
Dem. Tell me the place then.
Dem. Tell me the location then.
Syr. Do you know the portico down this way, just by the shambles? (Pointing in the direction.)
Syrup. Do you know the walkway down this way, right by the market? (Pointing in the direction.)
Dem. How should I but know it?
Dem. How else would I know?
Syr. Go straight along, right up that street; when you come there, there is a descent right opposite that goes downward, go straight down that; afterward, on this side (extending one hand), there is a chapel: close by it is a narrow lane, where there’s also a great wild fig-tree.
Syrup. Keep going straight up that street; when you get there, you'll see a path that goes down right in front of you; head straight down that path. Afterward, on this side (extending one hand), there's a chapel: next to it, there's a narrow lane with a big wild fig tree.
Dem. I know it.
Dem. I get it.
Syr. Go through that—
Syr. Check that out—
Dem. But that lane is not a thoroughfare.
Dem. But that street isn't a main road.
Syr. I’ faith, that’s true; dear, dear, would you take me to be in my senses?67 I made a mistake. Return to the portico; indeed that will be a much nearer way, and there is less going round about: you know the house of Cratinus, the rich man?
Syrup. Honestly, that's true; come on, do you really think I’m out of my mind?67 I messed up. Let’s go back to the entrance; that will definitely be a much shorter route, and it’ll save us from wandering around. You know the place of Cratinus, the wealthy guy?
Dem. I know it.
Dem. I get it.
Syr. When you have passed that, keep straight along that street on the left hand;68 when you come to the Temple of Diana, turn to the right; before you come to the city gate,69 just by that pond, there is a baker’s shop, and opposite to it a joiner’s; there he is.
Syrup. Once you’ve made it past that, just keep going straight down the street on your left. When you reach the Temple of Diana, take a right. Before you get to the city gate, right by that pond, there’s a bakery, and across from it is a carpenter’s shop; that’s where he is.
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Dem. What is he doing there?
Dem. What's he doing there?
Syr. He has given some couches to be made, with oaken legs, for use in the open air.70
Syrup. He has ordered some couches to be made, with oak legs, for use outdoors.70
Dem. For you to carouse upon! Very fine! But why do I delay going to him?
Dem. For you to party on! Very nice! But why am I putting off going to him?
Exit.
Log out.
Scene III.
Syrus alone.
Syrus by himself.
Syr. Go, by all means. I’ll work you to day, you skeleton,71 as you deserve. Æschinus loiters intolerably; the breakfast’s spoiling; and as for Ctesipho, he’s head and ears in love.72 I shall now think of myself, for I’ll be off at once, and pick out the very nicest bit, and, leisurely sipping my cups,73 I’ll lengthen out the day.
Syracuse Go ahead. I’ll work you today, you skeleton, 71 as you deserve. Æschinus is taking way too long; breakfast is getting cold; and as for Ctesipho, he’s completely lost in love.72 Now I’ll focus on myself, because I'm leaving right away to pick out the best part, and while sipping my drinks slowly, 73 I’ll stretch out the day.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
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Scene IV.
Enter Micio and Hegio.
Enter Micio and Hegio.
Mic. I can see no reason here, Hegio, that I should be so greatly commended. I do my duty; the wrong that has originated with us I redress. Unless, perhaps, you thought me one of that class of men who think that an injury is purposely done them if you expostulate about any thing they have done; and yet are themselves the first to accuse. Because I have not acted thus, do you return me thanks?
Mic. I don’t see any reason, Hegio, for you to praise me so much. I’m just doing my duty; I correct the wrongs caused by us. Unless you think I’m one of those people who believe they’re being personally attacked whenever someone points out their mistakes, while they’re quick to blame others themselves. Is that why you’re thanking me, just because I haven’t acted that way?
Heg. Oh, far from it; I never led myself to believe you to be otherwise than you are; but I beg, Micio, that you will go with me to the mother of the young woman, and repeat to her the same; what you have told me, do you yourself tell the woman, that this suspicion of Æschinus’s fidelity was incurred on his brother’s account, and that this Music-girl was for him.
Heg. Oh, not at all; I never thought you were anything but what you are. But I ask you, Micio, to come with me to the young woman's mother and tell her the same thing. You should explain to her that this doubt about Æschinus’s loyalty came up because of his brother, and that this Music-girl was meant for him.
Mic. If you think I ought, or if there is a necessity for doing so, let us go.
Mic. If you think I should, or if it's necessary, let's go.
Heg. You act with kindness; for you’ll then both have relieved her mind who is now languishing in sorrow and affliction, and have discharged your duty. But if you think otherwise, I will tell her myself what you have been saying to me.
Heg. You’re being kind; by doing so, you'll ease her mind, which is currently weighed down with sadness and pain, and fulfill your obligation. But if you feel differently, I will tell her myself what you’ve been saying to me.
Mic. Nay, I’ll go as well.
Mic. No, I’ll go too.
Heg. You act with kindness; all who are in distressed circumstances are suspicious,74 to I know not what degree; they take every thing too readily as an affront; they fancy themselves trifled with on account of their helpless condition; therefore it will be more satisfactory for you to justify him to them yourself.
Heg. You're being kind; everyone in tough situations is suspicious, to an unknown extent; they perceive everything as an insult too quickly; they believe they're being toyed with because of their vulnerable state; so it would be better for you to explain him to them yourself.
They go into the house of Sostrata.
They enter Sostrata's home.
Scene V.
Enter Æschinus.
Enter Aeschinus.
I am quite distracted in mind! for this misfortune so unexpectedly to befall me, that I neither know what to do with myself, or how to act! My limbs are enfeebled through 233 fear, my faculties bewildered with apprehension; no counsel is able to find a place within my breast. Alas! how to extricate myself from this perplexity I know not; so strong a suspicion has taken possession of them about me; not without some reason too: Sostrata believes that I have purchased this Music-girl for myself: the old woman informed me of that. For by accident, when she was sent for the midwife, I saw her, and at once went up to her. “How is Pamphila?” I inquired; “is her delivery at hand? Is it for that she is sending for the midwife?” “Away, away, Æschinus,” cries she; “you have deceived us long enough; already have your promises disappointed us sufficiently.” “Ha!” said I; “pray what is the meaning of this?” “Farewell,” she cries; “keep to her who is your choice.” I instantly guessed what it was they suspected, but still I checked myself, that I might not be telling that gossip any thing about my brother, whereby it might be divulged. Now what am I to do? Shall I say she is for my brother, a thing that ought by no means to be repeated any where? However, let that pass. It is possible it might go no further. I am afraid they would not believe it, so many probabilities concur against it: ’twas I myself carried her off; ’twas I, my own self, that paid the money for her; ’twas my own house she was carried to. This I confess has been entirely my own fault. Ought I not to have disclosed this affair, just as it happened, to my father? I might have obtained his consent to marry her. I have been too negligent hitherto; henceforth, then, arouse yourself, Æschinus. This then is the first thing; to go to them and clear myself. I’ll approach the door. (Advances to the door of Sostrata’s house.) Confusion! I always tremble most dreadfully when I go to knock at that door. (Knocking and calling to them within.) Ho there, ho there! it is Æschinus; open the door immediately, some one. (The door opens.) Some person, I know not who, is coming out; I’ll step aside here. (He stands apart.)
I'm really overwhelmed! This unexpected misfortune has left me lost, unsure of what to do or how to act! My body feels weak from fear, and my mind is clouded with anxiety; no advice seems to resonate with me. Oh dear! I have no idea how to get out of this confusion; the suspicion surrounding me is intense, and not without reason: Sostrata thinks I've bought this girl for myself. I found out because when she was sent for the midwife, I happened to see her and went straight over. “How is Pamphila?” I asked; “is she about to give birth? Is that why she’s calling for the midwife?” “Get away, Æschinus,” she said; “you’ve tricked us long enough; your promises have already let us down.” “What does this mean?” I replied. “Goodbye,” she said; “stick with the one you’ve chosen.” I quickly figured out what they suspected, but I held back from telling that gossip anything about my brother, as I didn’t want it to spread. Now what should I do? Should I say she’s for my brother, which really shouldn’t be repeated anywhere? Still, maybe it wouldn’t go beyond this. I worry they wouldn’t believe it, given the many reasons against it: I was the one who took her; I’m the one who paid for her; she was brought to my house. I admit this is entirely my fault. Shouldn’t I have told my father about this right from the start? I might have gotten his approval to marry her. I’ve been too careless until now; I need to get it together, Æschinus. This is the first step: to go to them and clear things up. I'll approach the door. (Advances to the door of Sostrata's house.) Oh no! I always get so scared when I have to knock on that door. (Knocking and calling to them inside.) Hey there, hey there! It’s Æschinus; open the door right away, someone. (The door opens.) Someone, I don’t know who, is coming out; I’ll step aside here. (He stands apart.)
Scene VI.
Enter Micio from the house of Sostrata.
Enter Micio from Sostrata's house.
Mic. (speaking at the door to Sostrata.) Do as I told you, 234 Sostrata; I’ll go find Æschinus, that he may know how these matters have been settled. (Looking round.) But who was it knocking at the door?
Mic. (speaking at the door to Sostrata.) Just do what I said, you, 234 Sostrata; I’ll go find Æschinus so he knows how things have been worked out. (Looking around.) But who was knocking at the door?
Æsch. (apart.) Heavens, it is my father!—I am undone!
Æsch. (apart.) Oh my God, it's my dad!—I'm finished!
Mic. Æschinus!
Mic. Aeschinus!
Æsch. (aside.) What can be his business here?
Æsch. (aside.) What could he be doing here?
Mic. Was it you knocking at this door? (Aside.) He is silent. Why shouldn’t I rally him a little? It would be as well, as he was never willing to trust me with this secret. (To Æschinus.) Don’t you answer me?
Mic. Was that you knocking on the door? (Aside.) He's quiet. Why shouldn't I tease him a bit? It’s about time, since he never wanted to share this secret with me. (To Æschinus.) Are you not going to respond?
Æsch. (confusedly.) It wasn’t I knocked at that door, that I know of.
Æsch. (confusedly.) I didn't knock at that door, that much I know.
Mic. Just so; for I wondered what business you could have here. (Apart.) He blushes; all’s well.
Mic. Exactly; I was curious about what brought you here. (Apart.) He blushes; everything’s fine.
Æsch. Pray tell me, father, what business have you there?
Æsch. Please tell me, dad, what are you doing there?
Mic. Why, none of my own; but a certain friend of mine just now brought me hither from the Forum to give him some assistance.
Mic. Well, I don’t have any myself; but a friend of mine just brought me here from the Forum to help him out.
Æsch. Why?
Æsch. Why?
Mic. I’ll tell you. There are some women living here; in impoverished circumstances, as I suppose you don’t know them; and, in fact, I’m quite sure, for it is not long since they removed to this place.
Mic. I’ll tell you. There are some women living here; in tough situations, as I guess you don’t know them; and, actually, I’m pretty sure, because it hasn’t been long since they moved to this place.
Æsch. Well, what next?
Æsch. So, what's next?
Mic. There is a girl living with her mother.
Mic. There's a girl living with her mom.
Æsch. Go on.
Æsch. Continue.
Mic. This girl has lost her father; this friend of mine is her next of kin; the law obliges him to marry her.75
Mic. This girl has lost her father; this friend of mine is her closest relative; the law requires him to marry her.75
Æsch. (aside.) Undone!
Æsch. (aside.) I'm finished!
Mic. What’s the matter?
Mic. What's wrong?
Æsch. Nothing. Very well: proceed.
Æsch. Fine. Go ahead:
Mic. He has come to take her with him; for he lives at Miletus.
Mic. He has come to take her with him because he lives in Miletus.
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Æsch. What! To take the girl away with him?
Æsch. What! Is he really planning to take the girl with him?
Mic. Such is the fact.
Mic. That's the truth.
Mic. Yes.
Mic. Yeah.
Æsch. (aside.) I’m overwhelmed with grief. (To Micio.) But what of them? What do they say?
Æsch. (aside.) I’m flooded with sadness. (To Mittens.) But what about them? What are they saying?
Mic. What do you suppose they should? Why, nothing at all. The mother has trumped up a tale, that there is a child by some other man, I know not who, and she does not state the name; she says that he was the first, and that she ought not to be given to the other.
Mic. What do you think they should do? Well, nothing at all. The mother has made up a story that there’s a child by some other man, I don’t know who, and she doesn’t mention the name; she claims that he was the first, and that she shouldn’t be given to anyone else.
Æsch. Well now, does not this seem just to you after all?
Æsch. So, doesn't this seem fair to you after all?
Mic. No.
Mic. Nope.
Æsch. Why not, pray? Is the other to be carrying her away from here?
Æsch. Why not, please? Is the other going to take her away from here?
Mic. Why should he not take her?
Mic. Why can't he take her?
Æsch. You have acted harshly and unfeelingly, and even, if, father, I may speak my sentiments more plainly, unhandsomely.
Æsch. You’ve been harsh and cold, and honestly, Father, if I can be more straightforward, you’ve acted badly.
Mic. Why so?
Mic. Why is that?
Æsch. Do you ask me? Pray, what do you think must be the state of mind of the man who was first connected with her, who, to his misfortune, may perhaps still love her to distraction, when he sees her torn away from before his face, and borne off from his sight forever? An unworthy action, father!
Æsch. Are you asking me? What do you think the state of mind is for the man who was first tied to her, who, unfortunately, may still be madly in love with her, when he sees her taken away right in front of him, and carried off from his sight forever? That’s an unworthy action, father!
Mic. On what grounds is it so? Who betrothed her?77 Who gave her away? When and to whom was she married? Who was the author of all this? Why did he connect himself with a woman who belonged to another?
Mic. Why is that the case? Who engaged her?77 Who handed her over? When and to whom was she married? Who set all this in motion? Why did he get involved with a woman who was already with someone else?
Æsch. Was it to be expected that a young woman of her age should sit at home, waiting till a kinsman of hers should come from a distance? This, my father, you ought to have represented, and have insisted on it.
Æsch. Was it really expected that a young woman her age should just stay home, waiting for a relative to come from far away? This, Dad, you should have pointed out and really pushed for.
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Mic. Ridiculous! Was I to have pleaded against him whom I was to support? But what’s all this, Æschinus, to us? What have we to do with them? Let us begone:——What’s the matter? Why these tears?
Mic. That's ridiculous! Was I really supposed to argue against someone I was meant to support? But really, Æschinus, what does this matter to us? What do we have to do with them? Let's get out of here:——What’s going on? Why are you crying?
Æsch. (weeping.) Father, I beseech you, listen to me.
Æsch. (weeping.) Dad, please, hear me out.
Mic. Æschinus, I have heard and know it all; for I love you, and therefore every thing you do is the more a care to me.
Mic. Æschinus, I know everything; I care about you, and because I love you, everything you do matters to me even more.
Æsch. So do I wish you to find me deserving of your love, as long as you live, my dear father, as I am sincerely sorry for the offense I have committed, and am ashamed to see you.
Æsch. I hope you see me as worthy of your love, my dear father, for as long as you live. I truly regret the wrong I've done and feel ashamed to face you.
Mic. Upon my word I believe it, for I know your ingenuous disposition: but I am afraid that you are too inconsiderate. In what city, pray, do you suppose you live? You have debauched a virgin, whom it was not lawful for you to touch. In the first place then that was a great offense; great, but still natural. Others, and even men of worth, have frequently done the same. But after it happened, pray, did you show any circumspection? Or did you use any foresight as to what was to be done, or how it was to be done? If you were ashamed to tell me of it, by what means was I to come to know it? While you were at a loss upon these points, ten months have been lost. So far indeed as lay in your power, you have periled both yourself and this poor girl, and the child. What did you imagine—that the Gods would set these matters to rights for you while you were asleep, and that she would be brought home to your chamber without any exertions of your own? I would not have you to be equally negligent in other affairs. Be of good heart, you shall have her for your wife.
Mic. I really believe it, because I know your honest nature. But I'm worried that you’re being careless. What city do you think you live in? You’ve ruined a girl who you had no right to touch. That’s a serious offense; it’s big, but still a natural mistake. Others, even good men, have done the same. But once it happened, did you take any precautions? Did you have any plan for what to do, or how to handle it? If you were too embarrassed to tell me, how was I supposed to find out? While you were confused about all this, ten months have gone by. As far as you were concerned, you’ve put both yourself and this poor girl, along with the child, in danger. Did you think the Gods would fix everything for you while you just sat back, and that she would come back to your room without you having to lift a finger? I don’t want you to be careless in other matters either. Stay positive; you will have her as your wife.
Æsch. Hah!
Æsch. Haha!
Mic. Be of good heart, I tell you.
Mic. Stay optimistic, I'm telling you.
Æsch. Father, are you now jesting with me, pray?
Æsch. Dad, are you kidding me right now?
Mic. I, jesting with you! For what reason?
Mic. Just joking with you! Why?
Æsch. I don’t know; but so anxiously do I wish this to be true, that I am the more afraid it may not be.
Æsch. I don’t know; but I want this to be true so badly that I’m even more afraid it might not be.
Mic. Go home, and pray to the Gods that you may have your wife; be off.
Mic. Go home and pray to the Gods that you can have your wife back. Now, go on.
Æsch. What! have my wife now?
Æsch. What! do I have my wife now?
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Mic. Now.
Mic. Right now.
Æsch. Now?
Æsch. Now?
Mic. Now, as soon as possible.
Mic. Now, ASAP.
Æsch. May all the Gods detest me, father, if I do not love you better than even my very eyes!
Æsch. May all the Gods hate me, father, if I don't love you more than my own eyes!
Mic. What! better than her?
What! Better than her?
Æsch. Quite as well.
Æsch. Just as well.
Mic. Very kind of you!
Thanks, I appreciate it!
Æsch. Well, where is this Milesian?
Æsch. So, where's this Milesian?
Mic. Departed, vanished, gone on board ship; but why do you delay?
Mic. Left, disappeared, boarded the ship; but why are you holding back?
Æsch. Father, do you rather go and pray to the Gods; for I know, for certain, that they will rather be propitious to you,78 as being a much better man than I am.
Æsch. Dad, you should go and pray to the Gods, because I know for sure that they will be more favorable to you, 78 since you're a much better person than I am.
Mic. I’ll go in-doors, that what is requisite may be prepared. You do as I said, if you are wise.
Mic. I’ll head inside to get things ready. You should do as I said, if you’re smart.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
Scene VII.
Æschinus alone.
Æschinus only.
Æsch. What can be the meaning of this? Is this being a father, or this being a son? If he had been a brother or familiar companion, how could he have been more complaisant! Is he not worthy to be beloved? Is he not to be imprinted in my very bosom? Well then, the more does he impose an obligation on me by his kindness, to take due precaution not inconsiderately to do any thing that he may not wish. But why do I delay going in-doors this instant, that I may not myself delay my own nuptials?
Æsch. What could this mean? Is this about being a father or being a son? If he were a brother or a close friend, how could he be more agreeable? Isn't he deserving of love? Shouldn't he be cherished in my heart? Well then, his kindness makes it even more important for me to be careful not to do anything he wouldn’t like. But why am I hesitating to go inside right now, risking delaying my own wedding?
Goes into the house of Micio.
Enters Micio's house.
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Scene VIII.
Enter Demea.
Enter Demea.
I am quite tired with walking: May the great Jupiter confound you, Syrus, together with your directions! I have crawled the whole city over; to the gate, to the pond—where not? There was no joiner’s shop there; not a soul could say he had seen my brother; but now I’m determined to sit and wait at his house till he returns.
I am really tired from walking: May the great Jupiter mess you up, Syrus, along with your directions! I’ve searched the whole city; to the gate, to the pond—where haven't I been? There was no carpenter's shop there; not a single person could say they had seen my brother; but now I'm set on sitting and waiting at his house until he gets back.
Scene IX.
Enter Micio from his house.
Enter Micio from his home.
Mic. (speaking to the people within.) I’ll go and tell them there’s no delay on our part.
Mic. (speaking to the people inside.) I’ll go and let them know there’s no hold-up on our end.
Dem. But see here’s the very man: O Micio, I have been seeking you this long time.
Dem. But look, here’s the guy: Oh Micio, I've been searching for you for a long time.
Mic. Why, what’s the matter?
Mic. What's wrong?
Dem. I’m bringing you some new and great enormities of that hopeful youth.
Dem. I’m sharing some new and amazing stories about that promising young man.
Mic. Just look at that!
Mic. Check that out!
Dem. Fresh ones, of blackest dye.
Fresh ones, deep black.
Mic. There now—at it again.
Mic. There you go—same thing.
Dem. Ah, Micio! you little know what sort of person he is.
Dem. Ah, Micio! You have no idea what kind of person he is.
Mic. I do.
I do.
Dem. O simpleton! you are dreaming that I’m talking about the Music-girl; this crime is against a virgin and a citizen.
Dem. Oh, you fool! You think I’m talking about the Music-girl; this is a crime against a virgin and a citizen.
Mic. I know it.
Mic. I get it.
Dem. So then, you know it, and put up with it!
Dem. So, you know about it and just deal with it!
Mic. Why not put up with it?
Mic. Why not just deal with it?
Dem. Tell me, pray, don’t you exclaim about it? Don’t you go distracted?
Dem. Tell me, please, don’t you complain about it? Don’t you get upset?
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Dem. There has been a child born.
A baby has been born.
Mic. May the Gods be propitious to it.
Mic. May the gods be favorable to it.
Dem. The girl has no fortune.
The girl has no money.
Mic. So I have heard.
Mic. I've heard that too.
Dem. And he—must he marry her without one?
Dem. So does he really have to marry her without one?
Mic. Of course.
Mic. Definitely.
Dem. What is to be done then?
Dem. What should we do now?
Mic. Why, what the case itself points out: the young woman must be brought hither.
Mic. Well, what the situation clearly indicates: the young woman needs to be brought here.
Dem. O Jupiter! must that be the way then?
Dem. Oh Jupiter! Is that really how it has to be?
Mic. What can I do else?
Mic. What else can I do?
Dem. What can you do? If in reality this causes you no concern, to pretend it were surely the duty of a man.
Dem. What can you do? If this really doesn’t bother you, pretending it doesn’t is definitely a man's responsibility.
Mic. But I have already betrothed the young woman to him; the matter is settled: the marriage takes place to-day. I have removed all apprehensions. This is rather the duty of a man.
Mic. But I have already promised the young woman to him; it’s all arranged: the wedding is happening today. I've put all worries to rest. This is more of a man's responsibility.
Dem. But does the affair please you, Micio?
Dem. But do you like the situation, Micio?
Mic. If I were able to alter it, no; now, as I can not, I bear it with patience. The life of man is just like playing with dice:80 if that which you most want to throw does not turn up, what turns up by chance you must correct by art.
Mic If I could change it, I wouldn't; but since I can't, I put up with it patiently. Life is like rolling dice: if the outcome you want doesn't happen, you have to creatively deal with whatever random result you get.
Dem. O rare corrector! of course it is by your art that twenty minæ have been thrown away for a Music-girl; who, as soon as possible, must be got rid of at any price; and if not for money, why then for nothing.
Dem. Oh, what a rare fixer you are! It's obviously your doing that twenty minæ have been wasted on a Music-girl; who, as soon as we can, must be gotten rid of at any cost; and if not for money, then definitely for free.
Mic. Not at all, and indeed I have no wish to sell her.
Mic. Not at all, and honestly, I don't want to sell her.
Dem. What will you do with her then?
Dem. What are you going to do with her then?
Mic. She shall be at my house.
Mic. She will be at my place.
Dem. For heaven’s sake, a courtesan and a matron in the same house!
Dem. For goodness' sake, a sex worker and a married woman in the same house!
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Mic. Why not?
Mic. Why not?
Dem. Do you imagine you are in your senses?
Dem. Do you really think you’re thinking clearly?
Mic. Really I do think so.
Mic. I really think so.
Dem. So may the Gods prosper me, I now see your folly; I believe you are going to do so that you may have somebody to practice music with.
Dem. So help me, I can now see your mistake; I think you're planning to do this just to have someone to make music with.
Mic. Why not?
Mic. Why not?
Dem. And the new-made bride to be learning too?
Dem. And the newlywed bride is learning too?
Mic. Of course.
Mic. Absolutely.
Dem. Having hold of the rope,81 you will be dancing with them.
Dem. If you grab the rope,81 you'll be dancing with them.
Mic. Like enough; and you too along with us, if there’s need.
Mic. Probably; and you can join us too if necessary.
Dem. Ah me! are you not ashamed of this?
Dem. Oh man! Aren't you embarrassed by this?
Mic. Demea, do, for once, lay aside this anger of yours, and show yourself as you ought at your son’s wedding, cheerful and good-humored. I’ll just step over to them, and return immediately.
Mic. Demea, for once, set aside this anger and act how you should at your son’s wedding—be cheerful and in good spirits. I’ll just go over to them, and be right back.
Goes into Sostrata’s house.
Enters Sostrata’s house.
Scene X.
Demea alone.
Demea by themselves.
Dem. O Jupiter! here’s a life! here are manners! here’s madness! A wife to be coming without a fortune! A music-wench in the house! A house full of wastefulness! A young man ruined by extravagance! An old man in his dotage!—Should Salvation herself82 desire it, she certainly could not save this family.
Dem. Oh Jupiter! What a life! What crazy behavior! What madness! A wife showing up without any money! A singer in the house! A house full of waste! A young man ruined by spending too much! An old man losing his mind!—Even if Salvation herself82 wanted to, she definitely couldn’t save this family.
Exit.
Log out.
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ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Enter Syrus, drunk, and Demea, on the opposite side of the stage.
Enter Syrus, drunk, and Demea, on the opposite side of the stage.
Syr. Upon my faith, my dear little Syrus, you have taken delicate care of yourself, and have done your duty83 with exquisite taste; be off with you. But since I’ve had my fill of every thing in-doors, I have felt disposed to take a walk.
Syrup. Honestly, my dear little Syrus, you've looked after yourself beautifully and done your duty with great style; now head off. But since I've had enough of being inside, I've been wanting to go for a walk.
Dem. (apart.) Just look at that—there’s an instance of their good training!
Dem. (apart.) Just look at that—there’s a perfect example of their good
Syr. (to himself.) But see, here comes our old man. (Addressing him.) What’s the matter? Why out of spirits?
Syrup. (to himself.) But look, here comes our old guy. (Addressing him.) What’s wrong? Why are you down?
Dem. Oh you rascal!
Oh, you troublemaker!
Syr. Hold now; are you spouting your sage maxims here?
Syrup. Wait a minute; are you really throwing your wise sayings around here?
Dem. If you were my servant——
Dem. If you were my assistant——
Syr. Why, you would be a rich man, Demea, and improve your estate.
Syrup. You could be a wealthy man, Demea, and grow your fortune.
Dem. I would take care that you should be an example to all the rest.
Dem. I would make sure that you set an example for everyone else.
Syr. For what reason? What have I done?
Syr. Why? What did I do?
Dem. Do you ask me? in the midst of this confusion, and during the greatest mischief, which is hardly yet set right, you have been getting drunk, you villain, as though things had been going on well.
Dem. Are you asking me? In the middle of this chaos, and with so much trouble still unresolved, you've been getting drunk, you scoundrel, as if everything is fine.
Syr. (aside.) Really, I wish I hadn’t come out.
Syrup. (aside.) Honestly, I wish I hadn’t come out.
Scene II.
Enter Dromo in haste, from the house of Micio.
Enter Dromo quickly, from Micio's house.
Dro. Halloo, Syrus! Ctesipho desires you’ll come back.
Dro. Hey, Syrus! Ctesipho wants you to come back.
Syr. Get you gone.
Syr. Get lost.
Pushes him back into the house.
Pushes him back inside the house.
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Dem. What is it he says about Ctesipho?
Dem. What does he say about Ctesipho?
Syr. Nothing.
Syr. No response.
Dem. How now, you hang-dog, is Ctesipho in the house?
Dem. What's up, you coward? Is Ctesipho home?
Syr. He is not.
He's not.
Dem. Then why does he mention him?
Dem. Then why does he bring him up?
Syr. It’s another person; a little diminutive Parasite. Don’t you know him?
Syrup. It’s someone else; a small little Parasite. Don’t you recognize him?
Dem. I will know him before long. (Going to the door.)
Dem. I'll find out who he is soon. (Going to the door.)
Syr. (stopping him.) What are you about? Whither are you going?
Syrup. (stopping him.) What are you doing? Where are you headed?
Dem. (struggling.) Let me alone.
Dem. (struggling.) Leave me alone.
Syr. (holding him.) Don’t, I tell you.
Syrup. (holding him.) Don’t do it, I’m telling you.
Dem. Won’t you keep your hands off, whip-scoundrel? Or would you like me to knock your brains out this instant?
Dem. Would you please keep your hands to yourself, you whip scoundrel? Or do you want me to knock you out right here?
Rushes into the house.
Runs into the house.
Syr. He’s gone! no very pleasant boon-companion, upon my faith, particularly to Ctesipho. What am I to do now? Why, even get into some corner till this tempest is lulled, and sleep off this drop of wine. That’s my plan.
Syrup. He’s gone! Not exactly the best drinking buddy, I swear, especially for Ctesipho. What should I do now? Well, I guess I’ll just find a quiet spot until this storm passes and sleep off this wine. That’s my plan.
Goes into the house, staggering.
Stumbles into the house.
Scene III.
Enter Micio, from the house of Sostrata.
Enter Micio, from the house of Sostrata.
Mic. (to Sostrata, within.) Every thing’s ready with us, as I told you, Sostrata, when you like.—Who, I wonder, is making my door fly open with such fury?
Mic. (to Sostrata, inside.) Everything’s ready on our end, just like I told you, Sostrata, whenever you’re ready.—I wonder who’s slamming my door open like that?
Enter Demea in haste, from the house of Micio.
Enter Demea quickly, coming from the house of Micio.
Dem. Alas! what shall I do? How behave? In what terms exclaim, or how make my complaint? O heavens! O earth! O seas of Neptune!
Dem. Oh no! What should I do? How should I act? What should I say, or how do I express my complaint? Oh heavens! Oh earth! Oh seas of Neptune!
Mic. (apart.) Here’s for you! he has discovered all about the affair; and of course is now raving about it; a quarrel is the consequence; I must assist him,84 however. 243 Dem. See, here comes the common corrupter of my children.
Mic. (aside.) Here’s for you! He’s found out everything about the situation; and of course, he’s going crazy about it; a fight is the result; I have to help him, 84 though. 243 Dem. Look, here comes the person who corrupts my kids.
Mic. Pray moderate your passion, and recover yourself.
Mic. Please calm down and gather yourself.
Dem. I have moderated it; I am myself; I forbear all reproaches; let us come to the point: was this agreed upon between us,—proposed by yourself, in fact,—that you were not to concern yourself about my son, nor I about yours? Answer me.
Dem. I've kept it together; I'm being myself; I'm holding back all accusations; let's get to the point: was it agreed between us—set by you, actually—that you wouldn’t worry about my son, and I wouldn’t worry about yours? Answer me.
Mic. It is the fact,—I don’t deny it.
Mic. It's true—I won't deny that.
Dem. Why is he now carousing at your house? Why are you harboring my son? Why do you purchase a mistress for him, Micio? Is it at all fair, that I should have any less justice from you, than you from me? Since I do not concern myself about your son, don’t you concern yourself about mine.
Dem. Why is he partying at your place now? Why are you keeping my son? Why are you getting him a mistress, Micio? Is it really fair that I should get any less justice from you than you get from me? Since I don’t care about your son, you shouldn’t care about mine.
Mic. You don’t reason fairly.
Mic. You're not being reasonable.
Dem. No?
No?
Mic. For surely it is a maxim of old, that among themselves all things are common to friends.
Mic. For surely it's an old saying that among friends, everything is shared.
Dem. Smartly said; you’ve got that speech up for the occasion.
Dem. Well said; you’ve got that speech ready for the occasion.
Mic. Listen to a few words, unless it is disagreeable, Demea. In the first place, if the extravagance your sons are guilty of distresses you, pray do reason with yourself. You formerly brought up the two suitably to your circumstances, thinking that your own property would have to suffice for them both; and, of course, you then thought that I should marry. Adhere to that same old rule of yours,—save, scrape together, and be thrifty for them; take care to leave them as much as possible, and take that credit to yourself: my fortune, which has come to them beyond their expectation, allow them to enjoy; of your captial there will be no diminution; what comes from this quarter, set it all down as so much gain. If you think proper impartially to consider these matters in your mind, Demea, you will save me and yourself, and them, considerable uneasiness.
Mic. Listen to me for a moment, unless it bothers you, Demea. First off, if your sons' extravagant behavior is causing you distress, please try to reason with yourself. You raised both of them according to your means, believing that your own resources would be enough for them both; and, of course, you thought I would eventually get married. Stick to that same old principle of yours—save, be resourceful, and be smart with your money for them; make sure to leave them as much as you can, and take pride in that: my fortune, which has unexpectedly come to them, let them enjoy it; your capital won’t be reduced; anything that comes from this direction should be seen as extra benefit. If you take the time to consider these things fairly, Demea, you will spare me, yourself, and them a lot of unnecessary worry.
Dem. I don’t speak about the expense; their morals—
Dem. I won't comment on the costs; their principles—
Mic. Hold; I understand you; that point I was coming 244 to.85 There are in men, Demea, many signs from which a conjecture is easily formed; so that when two persons do the same thing, you may often say, this one may be allowed to do it with impunity, the other may not; not that the thing itself is different, but that he is who does it. I see signs in them, so as to feel confident that they will turn out as we wish. I see that they have good sense and understanding, that they have modesty upon occasion, and are affectionate to each other; you may infer that their bent and disposition is of a pliant nature; at any time you like you may reclaim them. But still, you may be apprehensive that they will be somewhat too apt to neglect their interests. O my dear Demea, in all other things we grow wiser with age; this sole vice does old age bring upon men: we are all more solicitous about our own interests than we need be; and in this respect age will make them sharp enough.
Mic. Wait; I get what you're saying; that's the point I was getting to. 244 85 There are many signs in people, Demea, from which we can easily make assumptions; so that when two people do the same thing, you can often say that one can do it without consequences while the other can't; it’s not that the act itself is different, but that the person doing it is. I see signals in them that make me confident they will turn out as we hope. I see they have good judgment and understanding, that they show modesty at times, and care for one another; you can deduce that their tendencies and personalities are flexible; anytime you want, you can guide them back. But still, you might worry they may be a bit too prone to overlook their own interests. Oh my dear Demea, in all other areas we become wiser with age; this one flaw seems to be the only thing that old age brings upon men: we all become more concerned about our own interests than necessary; and in this way, age makes them sharp enough.
Dem. Only take care, Micio, that these fine reasonings of yours, and this easy disposition of yours, do not ruin us in the end.
Democrat. Just be careful, Micio, that your clever arguments and relaxed attitude don’t end up ruining us in the end.
Mic. Say no more; there’s no danger of that. Now think no further of these matters. Put yourself to-day into my hands; smooth your brow.
Mic. Don't worry about it; that's not going to happen. Now, let’s not dwell on these things anymore. Just trust me today; relax and ease your mind.
Dem. Why, as the occasion requires it, I must do so; but to-morrow I shall be off with my son into the country at daybreak.
Dem. Well, since it's necessary, I'll do it; but tomorrow I'm leaving with my son for the countryside at dawn.
Mic. Aye, to-night, for my share; only keep yourself in good-humor for the day.
Mic. Yeah, tonight, for my part; just make sure to stay in a good mood throughout the day.
Dem. I’ll carry off that Music-girl along with me as well.
Dem. I’m taking that Music-girl with me too.
Mic. You will gain your point; by that means you will keep your son fast there; only take care to secure her.
Mic. You'll get what you want; that way you'll keep your son close there; just make sure to protect her.
Dem. I’ll see to that; and what with cooking and grinding, I’ll take care she shall be well covered with ashes, smoke, and 245 meal; besides all this, at the very mid-day86 I’ll set her gathering stubble; I’ll make her as burned and as black as a coal.
Dem. I'll handle that; with all the cooking and grinding, I'll make sure she gets covered in ashes, smoke, and flour. On top of that, right at noon86 I'll have her gathering leftover crops; I'll make her as charred and dark as a coal.
Mic. You quite delight me; now you seem to me to be wise; and for my part I would then compel my son to go to bed with her, even though he should be unwilling.
Mic. You really amuse me; now you seem wise to me; and for my part, I would make my son go to bed with her, even if he didn’t want to.
Dem. Do you banter me? Happy man, to have such a temper! I feel—
Dem. Are you kidding me? Lucky guy, to have such a temper! I feel—
Mic. Ah! at it again!
Mic. Ah! Back at it!
Dem. I’ll have done then at once.
Dem. I'll wrap this up now.
Mic. Go in-doors then, and let’s devote this day to the object87 to which it belongs.
Mic. Go inside then, and let’s dedicate this day to the purpose87 to which it belongs.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Scene IV.
Demea alone.
Demea by himself.
Dem. Never was there any person of ever such well-trained habits of life, but that experience, age, and custom are always bringing him something new, or suggesting something; so much so, that what you believe you know you don’t know, and what you have fancied of first importance to you, on making trial you reject; and this is my case at present: for the rigid life I have hitherto led, my race nearly run, I now renounce. Why so?—I have found, by experience, that there is nothing better for a man than an easy temper and complacency. That this is the truth, it is easy for any one to understand on comparing me with my brother. He has always spent his life in ease and gayety; mild, gentle, offensive to no one, having a smile for all, he has lived for himself, and has spent his money for himself; all men speak well of him, all love him. I, again, a rustic, a rigid, cross, self-denying, morose and thrifty person, married a wife; what misery I entailed in consequence! Sons were born—a fresh care. And just look, while I have been studying to do as much as possible for them, I have worn out my life and years in saving; now, in the decline of my days, the return I get from them for my pains is their dislike. He, on the other hand, without 246 any trouble on his part, enjoys a father’s comforts; they love him; me they shun; him they trust with all their secrets, are fond of him, are always with him. I am forsaken; they wish him to live; but my death, forsooth, they are longing for. Thus, after bringing them up with all possible pains, at a trifling cost he has made them his own; thus I bear all the misery, he enjoys the pleasure. Well, then, henceforward let us try, on the other hand, whether I can’t speak kindly and act complaisantly, as he challenges me to it: I also want myself to be loved and highly valued by my friends. If that is to be effected by giving and indulging, I will not be behind him. If our means fail, that least concerns me, as I am the eldest.88
Dem. There has never been a person with such well-trained habits in life, but experience, age, and custom always bring him something new or suggest something; so much so that what you think you know, you really don’t, and what you believed was most important to you, you end up rejecting upon trying it out. That’s where I am right now: after leading a strict life, with my race nearly run, I’m ready to let it go. Why?—I’ve realized through experience that nothing is better for a man than a calm demeanor and easygoing nature. Anyone can see this truth when comparing me to my brother. He has always lived a life of ease and joy; he’s mild, gentle, offends no one, has a smile for everyone, and he lives for himself, spending his money on his own pleasures. Everyone speaks well of him; everyone loves him. Meanwhile, I, a country man, strict, cranky, self-denying, gloomy, and thrifty, got married; what misery did I bring upon myself! Children were born—a new source of concern. And just look, while I’ve been trying to do as much as possible for them, I’ve worn out my life and my years trying to save; now, in the twilight of my days, the only return I get for my efforts is their dislike. He, on the other hand, without any hassle, enjoys the comforts of fatherhood; they love him; they avoid me; they trust him with all their secrets, are fond of him, and are always around him. I am abandoned; they want him to live, but they long for my death. So, after raising them with all possible effort, he’s managed to win them over at minimal cost; I suffer all the misery while he enjoys the pleasures. Well, from now on, let’s see if I can’t speak kindly and act graciously, as he encourages me to do: I also want to be loved and valued by my friends. If that requires giving and indulging, I won’t fall behind him. If our resources are lacking, that concerns me the least, as I am the eldest.
Scene V.
Enter Syrus.
Enter Syrus.
Syr. Hark you, Demea, your brother begs you will not go out of the way.
Syrup. Listen, Demea, your brother is asking you not to take a detour.
Dem. Who is it?—O Syrus, my friend,89 save you! how are you? How goes it with you ?
Dem. Who is it?—Oh Syrus, my friend,89 good to see you! How are you doing? How's it going with you ?
Syr. Very well.
Syr. Sounds good.
Dem. Very good. (Aside.) I have now for the first time used these three expressions contrary to my nature,—“O Syrus, my friend, how are you?—how goes it with you?” (To Syrus.) You show yourself far from an unworthy servant, and I shall gladly do you a service.
Dem. Sounds great. (Aside.) This is the first time I've said these three phrases against my nature — “O Syrus, my friend, how are you? — how's everything with you?” (To Syrus.) You've proven yourself to be a valuable servant, and I’d be happy to help you out.
Syr. I thank you.
Thanks.
Dem. Yes, Syrus, it is the truth; and you shall be convinced of it by experience before long.
Dem. Yes, Syrus, it's true; and you'll see for yourself soon enough.
Scene VI.
Enter Geta, from the house of Sostrata.
Enter Geta, from the house of Sostrata.
Geta (to Sostrata, within). Mistress, I am going to see 247 after them, that they may send for the damsel as soon as possible; but see, here’s Demea. (Accosting him.) Save you!
Geta (to Sostrata, quietly). Mistress, I’m going to check on them so they can send for the girl as soon as possible; but look, here’s Demea. (Approaching him.) Hello!
Dem. O, what’s your name?
Dem. O, what's your name?
Geta. Geta.
Geta.
Dem. Geta, I have this day come to the conclusion that you are a man of very great worth, for I look upon him as an undoubtedly good servant who has a care for his master; as I have found to be your case, Geta; and for that reason, if any opportunity should offer, I would gladly do you a service. (Aside.) I am practicing the affable, and it succeeds very well.
Dem. Geta, I've come to realize today that you are truly a valuable person. I see you as an undoubtedly good servant who genuinely cares for your master, which I've found to be true with you, Geta. For that reason, if any chance comes up, I'd be more than happy to help you out. (Aside.) I'm working on being friendly, and it's going really well.
Geta. You are kind, sir, to think so.
Geta. You're very kind to think that way, sir.
Dem. (aside.) Getting on by degrees—I’ll first make the lower classes my own.
Dem. (aside.) Progressing step by step—I’ll start by winning over the lower classes.
Scene VII.
Enter Æschinus, from the house of Micio.
Enter Aeschinus, from the house of Micio.
Æsch. (to himself.) They really are killing me while too intent on performing the nuptials with all ceremony; the whole day is being wasted in their preparations.
Æsch. (to himself.) They're really wearing me out while they're so focused on having a wedding with all the fuss; the whole day is being wasted on their preparations.
Dem. Æschinus! how goes it?
Hey, Æschinus! How’s it going?
Æsch. Ha, my father! are you here?
Ha, Dad! You here?
Dem. Your father, indeed, both by affection and by nature; as I love you more than my very eyes; but why don’t you send for your wife?
Dem. Your father, truly, both out of love and instinct; I care for you more than my own eyesight; but why don’t you call for your wife?
Æsch. So I wish to do; but I am waiting for the music-girl90 and people to sing the nuptial song.
Æsch. So I want to do; but I'm waiting for the music girl90 and people to sing the wedding song.
Dem. Come now, are you willing to listen to an old fellow like me?
Dem. Come on, are you willing to listen to someone like me who's been around for a while?
Æsch. What is it?
Æsch. What's up?
Dem. Let those things alone, the nuptial song, the crowds, the torches,91 and the music-girls, and order the stone wall in 248 the garden92 here to be pulled down with all dispatch, and bring her over that way; make but one house of the two; bring the mother and all the domestics over to our house.
Dem. Forget about the wedding song, the crowds, the torches, and the musicians, and get the stone wall in the garden 248 pulled down quickly. Then bring her over this way; let’s combine the two houses into one; move the mother and all the household staff over to our place.
Æsch. With all my heart, kindest father.
Æsch. With all my heart, dearest dad.
Dem. (aside.) Well done! now I am called “kind.” My brother’s house will become a thoroughfare; he will be bringing home a multitude, incurring expense in many ways: what matters it to me? I, as the kind Demea, shall get into favor. Now then, bid that Babylonian93 pay down his twenty minæ. (To Syrus.) Syrus, do you delay to go and do it?
Dem. (aside.) Nice work! Now I’m labeled “kind.” My brother’s house will turn into a busy spot; he’ll be bringing home a bunch of people, racking up costs in many ways: what does it matter to me? I, the kind Demea, will win favor. Now then, tell that Babylonian93 to pay his twenty minæ. (To Syrus.) Syrus, are you going to take your time to go do it?
Syr. What am I to do?
What should I do?
Dem. Pull down the wall: and you, Geta, go and bring them across.
Dem. Take down the wall: and you, Geta, go and bring them over.
Geta. May the Gods bless you, Demea, as I see you so sincere a well-wisher to our family.
Geta sandals. May the gods bless you, Demea, as I see you as such a genuine supporter of our family.
Geta and Syrus go into Micio’s house.
Geta and Syrus enter Micio’s house.
Dem. I think they deserve it. What say you, Æschinus, as to this plan?
Dem. I think they deserve it. What do you think, Æschinus, about this plan?
Æsch. I quite agree to it.
I totally agree with it.
Dem. It is much more proper than that she, being sick and lying-in, should be brought hither through the street.
Dem. It is much more appropriate for her, being sick and in labor, to be brought here through the street.
Æsch. Why, my dear father, I never did see any thing better contrived.
Æsch. Why, my dear dad, I’ve never seen anything better designed.
Dem. It’s my way; but see, here’s Micio coming out.
Dem. It’s my way; but look, here comes Micio.
Scene VIII.
Enter Micio, from his house.
Enter Micio, from his home.
Mic. (speaking to Geta, within.) Does my brother order it? Where is he? (To Demea.) Is this your order, Demea?
Mic (speaking to Geta sandals, from inside.) Is this what my brother wants? Where is he? (To Demea.) Is this your instruction, Demea?
Dem. Certainly, I do order it, and in this matter, and in every thing else, wish especially to make this family one with ourselves, to oblige, serve, and unite them.
Dem. Of course, I insist on it, and in this matter, and in everything else, I especially want to make this family one with us, to support, serve, and bring them together.
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249
Æsch. Father, pray let it be so.
Æsch. Dad, please let it be so.
Mic. I do not oppose it.
Mic. I'm not against it.
Dem. On the contrary, i’ faith, it is what we ought to do: in the first place, she is the mother of his wife (pointing to Æschinus).
Dem. On the contrary, I swear, it is what we should do: first of all, she is the mother of his wife (pointing to Æschinus).
Mic. She is. What then?
Mic. She is. What now?
Dem. An honest and respectable woman.
Dem. A trustworthy and respectable woman.
Mic. So they say.
Mic: So they say.
Dem. Advanced in years.
Dem. Older.
Mic. I am aware of it.
Mic. I'm aware of it.
Dem. Through her years, she is long past child-bearing; there is no one to take care of her; she is a lone woman.
Dem. At her age, she is well past childbearing; there's no one to look after her; she is a solitary woman.
Mic. (aside.) What can be his meaning?
Mic. (aside.) What does he mean?
Dem. It is right you should marry her; and that you, Æschinus, should use your endeavors to effect it.
Dem. You should definitely marry her; and you, Æschinus, should do your best to make it happen.
Mic. I, marry her, indeed?
Mic. Should I marry her?
Dem. You.
You.
Mic. I?
Mic?
Dem. You, I say.
You, I say.
Mic. You are trifling!
Mic. You're being petty!
Dem. Æschinus, if you are a man, he’ll do it.
Dem. Æschinus, if you’re a real man, he’ll do it.
Æsch. My dear father——
Æsch. My dear dad——
Mic. What, ass! do you attend to him?
Mic. What, are you paying attention to him?
Dem. ’Tis all in vain; it can not be otherwise.
Dem. It's all pointless; it can't be any other way.
Mic. You are mad!
Mic. You're crazy!
Æsch. Do let me prevail on you, my father.
Æsch. Please let me convince you, Dad.
Mic. Are you out of your senses? Take yourself off.94
Mic Are you out of your mind? Get out of here.94
Dem. Come, do oblige your son.
Dem. Come, please your son.
Mic. Are you quite in your right mind? Am I, in my five-and-sixtieth year, to be marrying at last? A decrepit old woman too? Do you advise me to do this?
Mic. Are you really sure about this? Am I really getting married at my age, sixty-five? And to a frail old woman too? Do you think I should actually go through with it?
Æsch. Do; I have promised it.95
Æsch. Sure; I've promised it.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Mic. Promised, indeed; be generous at your own cost, young man.
Mic. Sure, go ahead and promise; just be generous at your own expense, kid.
Dem. Come, what if he should ask a still greater favor?
Dem. Come on, what if he asks for an even bigger favor?
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250
Mic. As if this was not the greatest!
Mic. As if this wasn't the best!
Dem. Do comply.
Dem. Please comply.
Æsch. Don’t make any difficulty.
Don’t complicate things.
Dem. Do promise.
Do promise.
Mic. Will you not have done?
Mic. Are you done yet?
Æsch. Not until I have prevailed upon you.
Æsch. Not until I win you over.
Mic. Really, this is downright force.96
Mic. This is really forceful.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Dem. Act with heartiness, Micio.
Dem. Act with enthusiasm, Micio.
Mic. Although this seems to me97 to be wrong, foolish, absurd, and repugnant to my mode of life, yet, if you so strongly wish it, be it so.
Mic. Although this seems wrong, foolish, absurd, and completely against my way of life, if you truly want it, fine.
Æsch. You act obligingly.
You act willingly.
Dem. With reason I love you; but——
Dem. I love you for good reason; but——
Mic. What?
Mic. Huh?
Dem. I will tell you, when my wish has been complied with.
Dem. I'll let you know once my request has been fulfilled.
Mic. What now? What remains to be done?
Mic. What now? What still needs to be done?
Dem. Hegio here is their nearest relation; he is a connection of ours and poor; we ought to do some good for him.
Dem. Hegio is their closest relative; he's part of our family and he's struggling; we should help him out.
Mic. Do what?
Do what now?
Dem. There is a little farm here in the suburbs, which you let out; let us give it him to live upon.
Dem. There's a small farm here in the suburbs that you rent out; let's give it to him to live on.
Mic. But is it a little one?
Mic. But is it a small one?
Dem. If it were a large one, still it ought to be done; he has been as it were a father to her; he is a worthy man, and connected with us; it would be properly bestowed. In fine, 251 I now adopt that proverb which you, Micio, a short time ago repeated with sense and wisdom—it is the common vice of all, in old age, to be too intent upon our own interests. This stain we ought to avoid: it is a true maxim, and ought to be observed in deed.
Dem. Even if it were a big one, it still needs to be done; he has been like a father to her; he’s a good man, and related to us; it would be a fitting gift. In short, 251 I now embrace that saying you, Micio, wisely repeated not long ago—it’s a common flaw in old age to focus too much on our own interests. We should avoid this flaw: it’s a true saying and should be acted upon.
Mic. What am I to say to this? Well then, as he desires it (pointing to Æschinus), it shall be given him.
Mic. What am I supposed to say about this? Alright then, since he wants it (pointing to Æschinus), it'll be given to him.
Æsch. My father!
My dad!
Dem. Now, Micio, you are indeed my brother, both in spirit and in body.
Dem. Now, Micio, you are truly my brother, both in spirit and in body.
Mic. I am glad of it.
Mic. I'm glad about it.
Scene IX.
Enter Syrus, from the house.
Enter Syrus, from the house.
Syr. It has been done as you ordered, Demea.
Syringe. It's been done just like you asked, Demea.
Dem. You are a worthy fellow. Upon my faith,—in my opinion, at least,—I think Syrus ought at once to be made free.
Dem. You’re a good guy. Honestly, I really believe Syrus should be set free right away.
Mic. He free! For what reason?
Mic. He’s free! Why?
Dem. For many.
Dem. For many.
Syr. O my dear Demea! upon my word, you are a worthy man! I have strictly taken care of both these sons of yours, from childhood; I have taught, advised, and carefully instructed them in every thing I could.
Syrup. Oh my dear Demea! I swear, you are an incredible man! I have taken great care of both of your sons since they were kids; I have taught, guided, and carefully instructed them in everything I could.
Dem. The thing is evident; and then besides all this, to cater for them, secretly bring home a wench, prepare a morning entertainment;99 these are the accomplishments of no ordinary person.
Dem. It’s pretty clear; and on top of that, to entertain them, sneak in a girl, set up a morning show;99 these are skills of someone extraordinary.
Syr. O, what a delightful man!
Syr. Oh, what a lovely guy!
Dem. Last of all, he assisted to-day in purchasing this Music-wench—he had the management of it; it is right he should be rewarded; other servants will be encouraged thereby: besides, he (pointing to Æschinus) desires it to be so.
Dem. Finally, he helped to buy this music girl today—he was in charge of it; it's only fair that he should be rewarded; it will motivate the other servants as well. Plus, he (pointing to Æschinus) wants it to happen.
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Mic. (to Æschinus.) Do you desire this to be done?
Mic. (to Æschinus.) Do you want this to happen?
Æsch. I do wish it.
I really wish for that.
Mic. Why then, if you desire it, just come hither, Syrus, to me (performing the ceremony of manumission); be a free man.100
Mic. Well then, if you want it, just come over here, Syrus, to me (performing the ceremony of manumission); be a free man.100
Syr. You act generously; I return my thanks to you all;—and to you, Demea, in particular.
Syrup. You're being very generous; I want to thank all of you—and you, Demea, especially.
Dem. I congratulate you.
Congrats!
Æsch. And I.
Æsch. And me.
Syr. I believe you. I wish that this joy were made complete—that I could see my wife, Phrygia,101 free as well.
Syrup. I believe you. I wish this happiness could be complete—that I could see my wife, Phrygia, 101 free too.
Dem. Really, a most excellent woman.
Dem. Really, an amazing woman.
Syr. And the first to suckle your grandchild, his son, today (pointing to Æschinus).
Syringe. And the first to nurse your grandchild, his son, today (pointing to Æschinus).
Dem. Why really, in seriousness, if she was the first to do so, there is no doubt she ought to be made free.
Dem. Honestly, if she was the first to do this, there’s no question she should be set free.
Mic. What, for doing that?
Mic. What, for doing that?
Dem. For doing that; in fine, receive the amount from me102 at which she is valued.
Dem. For doing that; in short, take the amount from me102 that she is worth.
Syr. May all the Gods always grant you, Demea, all you desire.
Syrup. May all the gods always give you, Demea, everything you wish for.
Mic. Syrus, you have thrived pretty well to-day.
Mic. Syrus, you’ve done really well today.
Dem. If, in addition, Micio, you will do your duty, and lend him a little ready money in hand for present use, he will soon repay you.
Dem. If you do your part too, Micio, and give him a bit of cash for immediate needs, he’ll pay you back before you know it.
Mic. Less than this (snapping his fingers).
Mic. Not more than this (snapping his fingers).
Æsch. He is a deserving fellow.
Æsch. He is a great guy.
Syr. Upon my word, I will repay it; only lend it me.
Syrup. I swear, I’ll pay it back; just lend it to me.
Æsch. Do, father.
Æsch. Sure, Dad.
Mic. I’ll consider of it afterward.
Mic. I’ll think about it later.
Dem. He’ll do it, Syrus.
Dem. He'll do it, Syrus.
Syr. O most worthy man!
Syr. Oh, most deserving guy!
Æsch. O most kind-hearted father!
O most kind-hearted dad!
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Mic. How is this? What has so suddenly changed your disposition, Demea? What caprice is this? What means this sudden liberality?103
Mic. What's going on? What suddenly changed your mood, Demea? What’s this whim about? Why this unexpected generosity?103
Dem. I will tell you:—That I may convince you of this, Micio, that the fact that they consider you an easy and kind-hearted man, does not proceed from your real life, nor, indeed, from a regard for virtue and justice; but from your humoring, indulging, and pampering them. Now therefore, Æschinus, if my mode of life has been displeasing to you, because I do not quite humor you in every thing, just or unjust, I have done: squander, buy, do what you please. But if you would rather have one to reprove and correct those faults, the results of which, by reason of your youth, you can not see, which you pursue too ardently, and are thoughtless upon, and in due season to direct you; behold me ready to do it for you.
Dem. Let me explain:—To show you this, Micio, the reason they see you as an easygoing and kind person isn't because of your real character or your respect for virtue and justice; it's because you pamper and indulge them. So, Æschinus, if my way of living bothers you because I don’t always cater to your every whim, whether right or wrong, go ahead: waste money, buy whatever you want, do what you like. But if you’d prefer someone to point out and correct your mistakes, which you overlook because of your youth, and to guide you when you're pursuing things too intensely and without thought, I’m here and ready to help.
Æsch. Father, we leave it to you; you best know what ought to be done. But what is to be done about my brother?
Æsch. Dad, we trust you; you know best what needs to happen. But what should we do about my brother?
Dem. I consent. Let him have his mistress:104 with her let him make an end of his follies.
Dem. I agree. Let him have his girlfriend:104 let him wrap up his nonsense with her.
Mic. That’s right. (To the Audience.) Grant us your applause.
Mic That’s right. (To the Audience.) Show us some appreciation.
FOOTNOTES
1. From δημὸς, “the people.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From δημὸς, “the people.”
2. From Μικιὼν, a Greek proper name.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From Μικιὼν, a Greek name.
4. From αισχὸς, “disgrace.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From αισχὸς, “shame.”
5. From κτησὶς, “a patrimony,” and φῶς, “light.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From κτησὶς, “inheritance,” and φῶς, “light.”
6. From σαννὸς, “foolish.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From σαννὸς, “foolish.”
9. From Syria, his native country.
From Syria, his homeland.
12. See the Dramatis Personæ of the Heautontimorumenos.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Check out the Characters in the __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__.
13. From κανθαρὸς “a cup.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From κανθαρὸς “a cup.”
14. Of Æmilius Paulus)—This Play (from the Greek Ἀδελφοὶ “The Brothers”) was performed at the Funeral Games of Lucius Æmilius Paulus, who was surnamed Macedonicus, from having gained a victory over Perseus, King of Macedon. He was so poor at the time of his decease, that they were obliged to sell his estate in order to pay his widow her dower. The Q. Fabius Maximus and P. Cornelius Africanus here mentioned were not, as some have thought, the Curale Ædiles, but two sons of Æmilius Paulus, who had taken the surnames of the families into which they had been adopted.
14. Of Æmilius Paulus)—This play (from the Greek Siblings “The Brothers”) was performed at the funeral games of Lucius Æmilius Paulus, who was nicknamed Macedonicus after winning a battle against Perseus, the King of Macedon. He was so poor at the time of his death that they had to sell his estate to pay his widow her dowry. The Q. Fabius Maximus and P. Cornelius Africanus mentioned here were not, as some have believed, the Curale Ædiles, but two sons of Æmilius Paulus, who had taken on the surnames of the families they were adopted into.
15. Sarranian flutes)—The “Sarranian” or “Tyrian” pipes, or flutes, are supposed to have been of a quick and mirthful tone; Madame Dacier has consequently with much justice suggested that the representation being on the occasion of a funeral, the title has not come down to us in a complete form, and that it was performed with the Lydian, or grave, solemn pipe, alternately with the Tyrian. This opinion is also strengthened by the fact that Donatus expressly says that it was performed to the music of Lydian flutes.
15. Sarranian flutes)—The “Sarranian” or “Tyrian” pipes, or flutes, were thought to have a lively and cheerful sound. Madame Dacier has rightly suggested that since this was during a funeral, the title we have now isn't complete, and it may have been played with the Lydian, or serious, solemn pipe, alternating with the Tyrian. This view is further supported by the fact that Donatus clearly states it was performed with Lydian flutes.
16. Being Consuls)—L. Anicius Gallus and M. Cornelius Cethegus were Consuls in the year from the Building of the City 592, and B.C. 161.
16. Being Consuls)—L. Anicius Gallus and M. Cornelius Cethegus were Consuls in the year 592 since the founding of the City, and BCE 161.
17. Synapothnescontes)—Ver. 6. Signifying “persons dying together.” The “Commorientes” of Plautus is lost. It has been doubted by some, despite these words of Terence, if Plautus ever did write such a Play.
17. Synapothnescontes)—Ver. 6. Meaning “people dying together.” The “Commorientes” by Plautus is gone. Some have questioned whether Plautus actually wrote such a play, despite Terence's words.
18. Of Diphilus)—Ver. 6. Diphilus was a Greek Poet, contemporary with Menander.
18. Of Diphilus)—Ver. 6. Diphilus was a Greek poet who lived at the same time as Menander.
19. In war, in peace, in private business)—Ver. 20. According to Donatus, by the words “in bello,” Terence is supposed to refer to his friend and patron Scipio; by “in otio,” to Furius Publius; and in the words “in negotio” to Lælius, who was famed for his wisdom.
19. In war, in peace, in private business)—Ver. 20. According to Donatus, when Terence says “in war,” he is thought to be referencing his friend and patron Scipio; by “in peace,” he means Furius Publius; and by “in private business,” he refers to Lælius, who was known for his wisdom.
20. The old men)—Ver. 23. This is similar to the words in the Prologue to the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 16: “But expect nothing about the plot of this Play; the old men who will come hither will disclose the matter to you.”
20. The old men)—Ver. 23. This is similar to the words in the Prologue to the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 16: “But don't expect to learn anything about the plot of this play; the old men who come here will fill you in.”
21. To fetch him)—Ver. 24. “Advorsum ierant.” On the duties of the “adversitores,” see the Notes to Bohn’s Translation of Plautus.
21. To fetch him)—Ver. 24. “They had gone against.” For more on the responsibilities of the “adversitores,” refer to the Notes in Bohn’s Translation of Plautus.
22. Either have taken cold)—Ver. 36. Westerhovius observes that this passage seems to be taken from one in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 721, et seq.: “Troth, if I had had them, enough anxiety should I have had from my children; I should have been everlastingly adelphiented in mind: but if perchance one had had a fever, I think I should have died. Or if one in liquor had tumbled any where from his horse, I should have been afraid that he had broken his legs or neck on that occasion.” It may be remarked that there is a great resemblance between the characters of Micio here and Periplecomenus in the Miles Gloriosus.
22. Either have taken cold)—Ver. 36. Westerhovius notes that this passage appears to be derived from a line in the Miles Gloriosus by Plautus, l. 721, et seq.: “Honestly, if I had them, I would have worried enough about my kids; I would have been constantly freaking out. But if one of them happened to have a fever, I think I would have lost it. Or if one had fallen off their horse while drunk, I would have been terrified that they broke their legs or neck.” It's worth mentioning that there is a strong similarity between Micio's character here and Periplecomenus in the Miles Gloriosus.
23. To see you well)—Ver. 81. Cooke remarks, that though there are several fine passages in this speech, and good observations on human life, yet it is too long a soliloquy.
23. To see you well)—Ver. 81. Cooke notes that while there are several great parts in this speech and valuable insights about human life, it’s still a bit too long for a soliloquy.
24. I was looking for)—Ver. 81. Donatus observes that the Poet has in this place improved upon Menander, in representing Demea as more ready to wrangle with his brother than to return his compliments.
24. I was looking for)—Ver. 81. Donatus notes that the Poet has, in this instance, built on Menander by depicting Demea as more inclined to argue with his brother than to reciprocate his greetings.
25. Such a son as Æschinus)—Ver. 82. The passage pretty clearly means by “ubi nobis Æschinus sit,” “when I’ve got such a son as Æschinus.” Madame Dacier, however, would translate it: “Ask me—you, in whose house Æschinus is?” thus accusing him of harboring Æschinus; a very forced construction, however.
25. Such a son as Æschinus)—Ver. 82. The passage clearly means by “ubi nobis Æschinus sit,” “when I have a son like Æschinus.” Madame Dacier, however, would translate it as: “Ask me—you, in whose house Æschinus is?” thus implying that he is sheltering Æschinus; a very strained interpretation, though.
26. Broken open a door)—Ver. 88. The works of Ovid and Plautus show that it was no uncommon thing for riotous young men to break open doors; Ovid even suggests to the lover the expediency of getting into the house through the windows.
26. Broken open a door)—Ver. 88. The works of Ovid and Plautus show that it wasn’t unusual for rowdy young men to break into places; Ovid even suggests to the lover the idea of getting into the house through the windows.
27. Does he feast)—Ver. 117. Colman has the following observation here: “The mild character of Micio is contrasted by Cicero to that of a furious, savage, severe father, as drawn by the famous Comic Poet, Caecilius. Both writers are quoted in the Oration for Caelias, in the composition of which it is plain that the orator kept his eye pretty closely on our Poet. The passages from Caecilius contain all that vehemence and severity, which, as Horace tells us, was accounted the common character of the style of that author.”
27. Does he feast)—Ver. 117. Colman notes: “Micio's gentle nature is compared by Cicero to that of a harsh, wild, strict father, as depicted by the well-known comic poet, Caecilius. Both writers are referenced in the Oration for Caelias, where it’s clear that the orator was closely influenced by our Poet. The excerpts from Caecilius capture all the intensity and strictness that, as Horace mentions, were considered typical of that author's style.”
28. Smell of perfumes)—Ver. 117. For an account of the “unguenta,” or perfumes in use among the ancients, see the Notes to Bohn’s translation of Plautus.
28. Smell of perfumes)—Ver. 117. For a description of the “unguenta,” or perfumes used by the ancients, refer to the Notes in Bohn’s translation of Plautus.
29. Will be shut out of doors)—Ver. 119. No doubt by his mistress when she has drained him of his money, and not by Micio himself, as Colman says he was once led to imagine.
29. Will be shut out of doors)—Ver. 119. No doubt by his mistress after she's taken all his money, not by Micio himself, as Colman once thought.
30. These things are)—Ver. 141. Donatus observes here, that Terence seems inclined to favor the part of mild fathers. He represents Micio as appalled at his adopted son’s irregularities, lest if he should appear wholly unmoved, he should seem to be corrupting him, rather than to be treating him with only a proper degree of indulgence.
30. These things are)—Ver. 141. Donatus notes that Terence seems to lean towards portraying gentle fathers. He shows Micio as shocked by his adopted son’s misbehaviors, fearing that if he appears completely indifferent, he might come off as corrupting him instead of simply being appropriately lenient.
31. Wished to take a wife)—Ver. 151. Donatus remarks here, that the art of Terence in preparing his incidents is wonderful. He contrives that even ignorant persons shall open the plot, as in the present instance, where we understand that Aeschinus has mentioned to Micio his intention of taking a wife, though he has not entered into particulars. This naturally leads us to the ensuing parts of the Play, without forestalling any of the circumstances.
31. Wanted to get married)—Ver. 151. Donatus notes that Terence's skill in setting up his story is impressive. He manages to make it so that even those who aren't well-informed can grasp the plot, as we see here where Aeschinus tells Micio about his plan to marry, even though he hasn't given any details. This smoothly guides us into the next parts of the play without giving away any of the specifics.
32. I am a Procurer)—Ver. 161. He says this aloud, and with emphasis, relying upon the laws which were enacted at Athens in favor of the “lenones,” whose occupation brought great profits to the state, from their extensive trading in slaves. It was forbidden to maltreat them, under pain of being disinherited.
32. I am a Procurer)—Ver. 161. He states this out loud, emphasizing it, relying on the laws that were established in Athens supporting the “lenones,” whose work generated significant revenue for the state through their extensive slave trading. It was prohibited to mistreat them, with the risk of being disinherited.
33. I am a Procurer)—Ver. 188. Westerhovius supposes this part to be a translation from the works of Diphilus.
33. I am a Procurer)—Ver. 188. Westerhovius believes this section is a translation from the writings of Diphilus.
34. By action of freedom)—Ver. 194. “Asserere liberati causa,” was to assert the freedom of a person, with a determination to maintain it at law. The “assertor” laid hands upon the person, declaring that he or she was free; and till the cause was tried, the person whose freedom was claimed, remained in the hands of the “assertor.”
34. By action of freedom)—Ver. 194. “Asserere liberati causa,” was to claim someone's freedom, intending to uphold it through legal means. The “assertor” would touch the person, declaring them free; and until the case was resolved, the individual whose freedom was being claimed remained in the custody of the “assertor.”
35. Till I return)—Ver. 196. Colman has a curious remark here: “I do not remember, in the whole circle of modern comedy, a more natural picture of the elegant ease and indifference of a fine gentleman, than that exhibited in this Scene in the character of Æschinus.”
35. Till I return)—Ver. 196. Colman makes an interesting observation here: “I don’t recall, in all of modern comedy, a more realistic portrayal of the graceful ease and nonchalance of a refined gentleman than what's shown in this scene through the character of Æschinus.”
36. I have sold her)—Ver. 204. He means, that if he only names a price, Æschinus will suborn witnesses to say that he has agreed to sell her, in which case Æschinus will carry her off with impunity, and the laws will not allow him to recover her; as it will then be an ordinary debt, and he will be put off with all the common excuses used by debtors.
36. I have sold her)—Ver. 204. He means that if he just mentions a price, Æschinus will bribe witnesses to claim that he agreed to sell her. In that case, Æschinus will take her away without consequences, and the law won't let him get her back, as it will just be a regular debt, and he’ll be stuck with all the typical excuses that debtors use.
37. On more unequal terms)—Ver. 212. “Certationem comparatam.” This was a term taken from the combats of gladiators, where it was usual to choose as combatants such as seemed most nearly a match for each other.
37. On more unequal terms)—Ver. 212. “Certationem comparatam.” This term comes from gladiator fights, where it was common to select combatants who appeared to be evenly matched against each other.
38. If you had parted with ever so little)—Ver. 217. This passage is probably alluded to by Cicero, in his work, De Officiis B. ii. c. 18: “For it is not only liberal sometimes to give up a little of one’s rights, but it is also profitable.”
38. If you had let go of even a bit)—Ver. 217. This passage is likely referenced by Cicero in his work, De Officiis B. ii. c. 18: “For it’s not only generous to sometimes give up a bit of one’s rights, but it’s also beneficial.”
39. In the very joint)—Ver. 229. “Ut in ipso articulo oppressit.” Colman translates this, “Nick’d me to a hair.”
39. In the very joint)—Ver. 229. “To hit me right on the spot.” Colman translates this, “Nick’d me to a hair.”
40. To take to Cyprus)—Ver. 230. He alludes to a famous slave-market held in the Isle of Cyprus, whither merchants carried slaves for sale, after buying them up in all parts of Greece.
40. To take to Cyprus)—Ver. 230. He refers to a well-known slave market in Cyprus, where merchants brought slaves for sale after purchasing them from various regions in Greece.
41. Have you by this reckoned)—Ver. 236. “Jamne enumerasti id quod ad te rediturum putes?” Colman renders this, “Well, have you calculated what’s your due?” referring to the value of the Music-girl that has been taken away from him; and thinks that the following conversation between Sannio and Syrus supports that construction. Madame Dacier puts another sense on the words, and understands them as alluding to Sannio’s calculation of his expected profits at Cyprus.
41. Have you by this reckoned)—Ver. 236. “Have you figured out what you think is coming back to you?” Colman interprets this as, “Well, have you calculated what’s your due?” referring to the value of the Music-girl who has been taken from him; and he believes that the following conversation between Sannio and Syrus backs this interpretation. Madame Dacier offers a different understanding of the words, interpreting them as relating to Sannio’s calculation of his expected profits in Cyprus.
42. Scrape together ten minæ)—Ver. 242. Donatus remarks, that Syrus knows very well that Æschinus is ready to pay the whole, but offers Sannio half, that he may be glad to take the bare principal, and think himself well off into the bargain.
42. Gather together ten minæ)—Ver. 242. Donatus points out that Syrus is fully aware that Æschinus is willing to pay the full amount, but offers Sannio half, thinking that he would be pleased to just get the principal and feel like he's getting a good deal on top of that.
43. He’s looking for me)—Ver. 265. Donatus remarks upon the readiness with which Sannio takes the appellation of “sacrilegus,” as adapted to no other person than himself.
43. He’s looking for me)—Ver. 265. Donatus comments on how quickly Sannio embraces the label "sacrilegus," as it applies to no one else but him.
44. Flying the country)—Ver. 275. Donatus tells us, that in Menander the young man was on the point of killing himself. Terence has here softened it into leaving the country. Colman remarks: “We know that the circumstance of carrying off the Music-girl was borrowed from Diphilus; yet it is plain from Donatus that there was also an intrigue by Ctesipho in the Play of Menander; which gives another proof of the manner in which Terence used the Greek Comedies.”
44. Leaving the country)—Ver. 275. Donatus tells us that in Menander, the young man was about to take his own life. Terence has softened this to him leaving the country. Colman notes: “We know that the part about taking the Music-girl was taken from Diphilus; yet it’s clear from Donatus that there was also a subplot involving Ctesipho in Menander’s play, which further shows how Terence adapted Greek comedies.”
45. He is in haste for Cyprus)—Ver. 278. Donatus remarks that this is a piece of malice on the part of Syrus, for the purpose of teasing Sannio.
45. He's in a hurry to get to Cyprus)—Ver. 278. Donatus notes that this is a jab from Syrus, intended to provoke Sannio.
46. Order the couches)—Ver. 285. Those used for the purpose of reclining on at the entertainment.
46. Order the couches)—Ver. 285. Those intended for lying down on during the event.
47. Leave me alone)—Ver. 321. Quoting from Madame Dacier, Colman has this remark here: “Geta’s reply is founded on a frolicsome but ill-natured custom which prevailed in Greece—to stop the slaves in the streets, and designedly keep them in chat, so that they might be lashed when they came home for staying out so long.”
47. Leave me alone)—Ver. 321. Quoting Madame Dacier, Colman comments: “Geta’s response is based on a playful yet nasty tradition that existed in Greece—where people would stop slaves in the streets and deliberately keep them talking, so they could be punished when they got home for being out too long.”
48. On his father’s knees)—Ver. 333. It was a prevalent custom with the Greeks to place the newly-born child upon the knee of its grandfather.
48. On his father’s knees)—Ver. 333. It was a common practice among the Greeks to set the newborn child on its grandfather's knee.
49. It shall be boned)—Ver. 378. The operation of boning conger-eels is often mentioned in Plautus, from whom we learn that they were best when eaten in that state, and cold.
49. It shall be boned)—Ver. 378. The process of boning conger eels is frequently referenced in Plautus, who tells us that they taste best when eaten that way and served cold.
50. Serve somewhere or other as a soldier)—Ver. 385. See a similar passage in the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 722, whence it appears that it was the practice for young men of ruined fortunes to go and offer their services as mercenaries to some of the neighboring potentates. Many of the ten thousand who fought for the younger Cyrus at the battle of Cunaxa, and were led back under the command of Xenophon, were, doubtless, of this class.
50. Join the military somewhere)—Ver. 385. See a similar passage in Plautus's Trinummus, l. 722, which shows that it was common for young men with fallen fortunes to offer their services as mercenaries to nearby leaders. Many of the ten thousand who fought for the younger Cyrus at the battle of Cunaxa and were led back by Xenophon were probably from this group.
51. As though into a mirror)—Ver. 428. He parodies the words of Demea in l. 415, where he speaks of looking into the lives of men as into a mirror.
51. As though into a mirror)—Ver. 428. He mocks Demea's words in l. 415, where he talks about examining people's lives as if looking into a mirror.
52. Of our tribe)—Ver. 439. Solon divided the Athenians into ten tribes, which he named after ten of the ancient heroes: Erectheis, Ægeis, Pandionis, Leontis, Acamantis, Œneis, Cecrops, Hippothoontis, Æantis, and Antiochis. These tribes were each divided into ten Demi.
52. Of our tribe)—Ver. 439. Solon split the Athenians into ten tribes, naming them after ten ancient heroes: Erectheis, Ægeis, Pandionis, Leontis, Acamantis, Œneis, Cecrops, Hippothoontis, Æantis, and Antiochis. Each of these tribes was further divided into ten Demi.
54. Is among us)—Ver. 479. “In medio,” “is alive,” or “in the midst of us.”
54. Is among us)—Ver. 479. “In the middle,” “is alive,” or “in the midst of us.”
55. Take him, bind him)—Ver. 482. In allusion to the method of examining slaves, by binding and torturing them.
55. Take him, bind him)—Ver. 482. Referring to the way slaves were examined by tying them up and torturing them.
56. Juno Lucina)—Ver. 487. So in the Andria, l. 473, where Glycerium is overtaken with the pains of labor, she calls upon Juno Lucina.
56. Juno Lucina)—Ver. 487. Just like in the Andria, l. 473, when Glycerium is struck by the pains of childbirth, she calls out to Juno Lucina.
57. He was my kinsman)—Ver. 494. In the Play of Menander, Hegio was the brother of Sostrata.
57. He was my relative)—Ver. 494. In the Play of Menander, Hegio was Sostrata's brother.
58. Upon this matter I’ll follow)—Ver. 500. “Is, quod mihi de hae re dederat consilium, id sequar.” Coleman has the following Note on this passage: “Madame Dacier rejects this line, because it is also to be found in the Phormio. But it is no uncommon thing with our author to use the same expression or verse for different places, especially on familiar occasions. There is no impropriety in it here, and the foregoing hemistich is rather lame without it. The propriety of consulting Micio, or Demea’s present ill-humor with him, are of no consequence. The old man is surprised at Hegio’s story, does not know what to do or say, and means to evade giving a positive answer, by saying that he would consult his brother.”
58. On this matter, I’ll follow)—Ver. 500. “What advice I received regarding this matter, I will follow.” Coleman notes the following on this passage: “Madame Dacier dismisses this line because it also appears in the Phormio. However, it’s not unusual for our author to use the same expression or line in different contexts, especially in familiar situations. There’s nothing inappropriate about it here, and the previous half-line feels incomplete without it. The relevance of consulting Micio, or Demea’s current bad mood towards him, doesn’t really matter. The old man is taken aback by Hegio’s story, is unsure of what to do or say, and intends to avoid giving a direct answer by saying that he would consult his brother.”
59. Go back now)—Ver. 506. “Redite.” Demea most probably uses this word, because Hegio has come back to him to repeat the last words for the sake of greater emphasis.
59. Go back now)—Ver. 506. “Redite.” Demea likely uses this word because Hegio has returned to him to reiterate the last words for greater emphasis.
60. Be of good heart)—Ver. 512. Colman has the following Note here: “Donatus tells us, that in some old copies this whole Scene was wanting. Guyetus therefore entirely rejects it. I have not ventured to take that liberty; but must confess that it appears to me, if not supposititious, at least cold and superfluous, and the substance of it had better been supposed to have passed between Hegio and Sostrata within.”
60. Stay positive)—Ver. 512. Colman adds in a note here: “Donatus tells us that in some old copies this entire scene was missing. Guyetus therefore completely dismisses it. I haven't taken that liberty, but I must admit that it seems to me, if not fake, at least dull and unnecessary, and it would have been better if the main part had been assumed to have taken place between Hegio and Sostrata offstage.”
61. At this very moment)—Ver. 519. It is very doubtful whether the words “cum maxime” mean to signify exactly “at this moment,” or are intended to signify the intensity with which Demea is laboring.
61. At this very moment)—Ver. 519. It's unclear whether the phrase “cum maxime” specifically means “at this moment” or if it highlights the intensity of Demea's efforts.
62. Any thing still better than that)—Ver. 522. Lemaire suggests that by these words Syrus intends to imply that he should not care if Demea were never to arise from his bed, but were to die there. Ctesipho, only taking him heartily to second his own wishes for the old man’s absence, answers affirmatively “ita,” “by all means,” “exactly so.”
62. Anything is better than that)—Ver. 522. Lemaire suggests that Syrus means he wouldn’t care if Demea never got out of bed and just died there. Ctesipho, just eager to support his own wish for the old man's absence, replies affirmatively, "yes," "definitely," "exactly so."
63. So much the worse)—Ver. 529. Schmieder observes that “tanto nequior” might have two meanings,—“so much the worse for us,” or, as the spectators might understand it, “so much the more worthless you.”
63. So much the worse)—Ver. 529. Schmieder notes that “tanto nequior” could mean two things—“so much the worse for us,” or, as the audience might interpret it, “so much the more worthless you.”
64. The wolf in the fable)—Ver. 538. This was a proverbial expression, tantamount to our saying, “Talk of the devil, he’s sure to appear.” Servius, in his Commentary on the Ninth Eclogue of Virgil, says that the saying arose from the common belief that the person whom a wolf sets his eyes upon is deprived of his voice, and thence came to be applied to a person who, coming upon others in the act of talking about him, necessarily put a stop to their conversation. Cooke says, in reference to this passage, “This certainly alludes to a Fable of Æsop’s, of the Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape: which is translated by Phædrus, and is the tenth of his First Book.” It is much more certain that Cooke is mistaken here, and that the fable of the arbitration of the Ape between the Wolf and the Fox has nothing to do with this passage. If it alludes to any fable (which from the expression itself is not at all unlikely), it is more likely to be that where the Nurse threatens that the wolf shall take the naughty Child, on which he makes his appearance, but is disappointed in his expectations, or else that of the Shepherd-boy and the Wolf. See the Stichus of Plautus, l. 57, where the same expression occurs.
64. The wolf in the fable)—Ver. 538. This was a common saying, similar to our expression, “Speak of the devil, and he will show up.” Servius, in his Commentary on the Ninth Eclogue of Virgil, explains that the saying came from the widespread belief that someone a wolf looks at loses their voice, and so it became used to describe a person who, finding others talking about them, abruptly ends their conversation. Cooke mentions, regarding this passage, “This certainly refers to a fable of Æsop’s, about the Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape: which is translated by Phædrus, and is the tenth of his First Book.” However, it’s more likely that Cooke is mistaken, and the fable about the Ape arbitrating between the Wolf and the Fox doesn’t relate to this passage. If it references any fable (which isn’t at all unlikely given the wording), it’s probably the one where the Nurse threatens that the wolf will take the naughty Child, upon which he shows up but is left disappointed, or possibly that of the Shepherd-boy and the Wolf. See the Stichus of Plautus, l. 57, where the same expression appears.
65. Met a day-laborer)—Ver. 542. Donatus remarks that the Poet artfully contrives to detain Demea in town, his presence being necessary in the latter part of the Play.
65. Met a day-laborer)—Ver. 542. Donatus points out that the Poet skillfully keeps Demea in town, as his presence is needed in the second half of the Play.
66. With her in some cupboard)—Ver. 553. Donatus observes that the young man was silly in this, for if discovered to be there he would be sure to be caught. His object, however, for going there would be that he might not be discovered.
66. With her in some cupboard)—Ver. 553. Donatus points out that the young man was foolish for doing this because if he were found there, he would definitely get caught. However, his reason for going there was to avoid being discovered.
67. Take me to be in my senses)—Ver. 580. “Censen hominem me esse?” literally, “Do you take me to be a human being?” meaning, “Do you take me to be a person in my common senses?”
67. Take me to be in my senses)—Ver. 580. “Censen hominem me esse?" literally, "Do you think I'm a human being?" meaning, "Do you think I'm someone in my right mind?"
68. Street on the left hand)—Ver. 583. Theobald, in his edition of Shakspeare, observes that the direction given by Lancelot in the Merchant of Venice seems to be copied from that given here by Syrus: “Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the next turning of all on your left; marry, at the very next turning of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew’s house.”
68. Street on the left hand)—Ver. 583. Theobald, in his edition of Shakespeare, notes that the directions given by Lancelot in the Merchant of Venice appear to be taken from those provided here by Syrus: “Turn right at the next intersection, but at the next one after that, turn left; actually, at the very next intersection of no direction, but take a slight turn down to the Jew’s house.”
69. Come to the city gate)—Ver. 584. From this we discover that Demea is being sent to the very extremity of the town, as Donatus informs us that ponds of water were always close to the gates of towns, for the purpose of watering the beasts of burden, and of having a supply at hand in case the enemy should set fire to the city gates.
69. Come to the city gate)—Ver. 584. From this, we learn that Demea is being sent to the edge of the town, as Donatus tells us that ponds of water were always near the gates of towns, to provide water for working animals and to have a supply ready in case the enemy tried to set fire to the city gates.
70. The open air)—Ver. 586. Donatus remarks that it was usual for the Greeks to sit and drink in the sun; and that Syrus being suddenly asked this question shows his presence of mind by giving this circumstantial answer, that he may the better impose upon Demea. The couches used on such occasions may be presumed to have required stout legs, and to be made of hard wood, such as oak, to prevent them from splitting. Two instances of couches being used for carousing in the open air will be found in the last Scenes of the Asinaria and Stichus of Plautus.
70. The open air)—Ver. 586. Donatus notes that it was common for the Greeks to sit and drink in the sun; and that when Syrus was suddenly asked this question, he showed his quick thinking by giving this detailed answer, allowing him to better deceive Demea. The couches used for these gatherings likely needed sturdy legs and were probably made from hard woods, like oak, to avoid breaking. Examples of couches being used for partying in the open air can be found in the last scenes of Plautus's Asinaria and Stichus.
71. You skeleton)—Ver. 588. “Silicernium.” This was said to be the name of a funeral entertainment or dish of meats offered up to the “umbræ” or “manes,” in silence. The word is also said to have been applied to an old man from his stooping postures, “silices cernit,” “he looks at the stones.”
71. You skeleton)—Ver. 588. “Silicernium.” This was the name of a funeral meal or dish of meats presented to the “umbræ” or “manes,” silently. The term is also believed to refer to an old man due to his stooping posture, “silices cernit,” meaning “he looks at the stones.”
72. Head and ears in love)—Ver. 590. “Totus,” literally, “quite” or “altogether.”
72. Head and ears in love)—Ver. 590. “Totus,” literally, “completely” or “entirely.”
73. Sipping my cups)—Ver. 592. As to the “cyathi” and cups of the ancients, see the last Scene of the Stichus of Plautus, which is a perfect specimen of a carousal among the lower classes in ancient times. See also the last Scene of the Asinaria. The slaves generally appear to have taken part in the entertainments with their young masters.
73. Sipping my cups)—Ver. 592. Regarding the “cyathi” and cups of the ancients, check out the last scene of the Stichus by Plautus, which showcases a lively gathering among the lower classes in ancient times. Also, take a look at the final scene of the Asinaria. It seems that the slaves often joined in the fun with their young masters.
74. Are suspicious)—Ver. 606. These lines are supposed to be founded on some verses of Menander which are still extant.
74. Are suspicious)—Ver. 606. These lines are believed to be based on some verses of Menander that still exist.
75. Obliges him to marry her)—Ver. 655. It appears to have been a law given by Solon to the Athenians that the next male relative of suitable age should marry a female orphan himself, or find her a suitable portion. Madame Dacier suggests that the custom was derived from the Phœnicians, who had received it from the Jews, and quotes the Book of Numbers, xxxvi. 8. This law forms the basis of the plot of the Phormio.
75. Requires him to marry her)—Ver. 655. It seems that there was a law set by Solon for the Athenians stating that the closest male relative of appropriate age should either marry a female orphan himself or secure a suitable dowry for her. Madame Dacier proposes that this custom originated with the Phoenicians, who got it from the Jews, and cites the Book of Numbers, xxxvi. 8. This law is the foundation of the plot in Phormio.
76. To Miletus, pray?)—Ver. 658. A colony of Athens, on the coast of Asia Minor.
76. To Miletus, please?)—Ver. 658. A colony of Athens, located on the coast of Asia Minor.
77. Who betrothed her?)—Ver. 673. Donatus observes that these questions, which enumerate all the proofs requisite for a marriage, are an indirect and very delicate reproof of Æschinus for the irregular and clandestine nature of his proceedings.
77. Who engaged her?)—Ver. 673. Donatus notes that these questions, which list all the necessary evidence for a marriage, serve as an indirect and very subtle criticism of Æschinus for the improper and secretive manner of his actions.
78. Propitious to you)—Ver. 707. Donatus remarks that there is great delicacy in this compliment of Æschinus to Micio, which, though made in his presence, does not bear the semblance of flattery. Madame Dacier thinks that Terence here alludes to a line of Hesiod, which says that it is the duty of the aged to pray. Colman suggests that the passage is borrowed from some lines of Menander still in existence.
78. Favorable to you)—Ver. 707. Donatus notes that there is a lot of subtlety in this compliment from Æschinus to Micio, which, despite being said in front of him, doesn’t come off as flattery. Madame Dacier believes that Terence is referencing a line from Hesiod, which states that it's the responsibility of the elderly to pray. Colman suggests that this passage is taken from some lines of Menander that still exist.
79. Certainly I had rather)—Ver. 730. He pauses after “quidem,” but he means to say that if he had his choice, he would rather it had not been so.
79. Surely I would prefer)—Ver. 730. He stops after “quidem,” but he intends to express that if he had a choice, he would rather it hadn’t been this way.
80. Playing with dice)—Ver. 742. The “tesseræ” of the ancients were cubes, or what we call “dice;” while the “tali” were in imitation of the knuckle-bones of animals, and were marked on four sides only. For some account of the mode of playing with the “tali,” see the last Scene of the Asinaria, and the Curculio of Plautus, l. 257-9. Madame Dacier suggests that Menander may possibly have borrowed this passage from the Republic of Plato, B. X., where he says, “We should take counsel from accidents, and, as in a game at dice, act according to what has fallen, in the manner which reason tells us to be the best.”
80. Playing with dice)—Ver. 742. The "tesseræ" of ancient times were cubes, or what we now call "dice," while the "tali" were modeled after the knuckle-bones of animals and only had markings on four sides. For more about how to play with the "tali," check out the last scene of the Asinaria and Plautus's Curculio, l. 257-9. Madame Dacier suggests that Menander might have taken this idea from Plato's Republic, B. X., where he says, "We should take advice from random events and, like in a dice game, act based on what has come up, following the path that reason indicates as the best."
81. Hold of the rope)—Ver. 755. “Restim ductans saltabis.” Donatus and Madame Dacier think that this is only a figurative expression for a dance in which all joined hands; according to some, however, a dance is alluded to where the person who led off drew a rope or cord after him, which the rest of the company took hold of as they danced; which was invented in resemblance of the manner in which the wooden horse was dragged by ropes into the city of Troy.
81. Hold of the rope)—Ver. 755. “Restim ductans saltabis.” Donatus and Madame Dacier believe that this is just a metaphor for a dance where everyone holds hands; however, others suggest it refers to a dance where the leader pulled a rope or cord behind them, which the rest of the group grabbed onto as they danced. This was inspired by how the wooden horse was pulled by ropes into the city of Troy.
82. Salvation herself)—Ver. 764. See an observation relative to the translation of the word “Salus,” in the Notes to Plautus, vol. i. pages 193, 450.
82. Salvation herself)—Ver. 764. See a note regarding the translation of the word “Salus” in the Notes to Plautus, vol. i. pages 193, 450.
83. Have done your duty)—Ver. 767. His duty of providing the viands and drink for the entertainment. So Ergasilus says in the Captivi of Plautus, l. 912, “Now I will go off to my government (præfecturam), to give laws to the bacon.”
83. Have done your duty)—Ver. 767. His responsibility of providing food and drinks for the event. So Ergasilus mentions in Plautus' Captivi, line 912, “Now I’m off to my job to make rules for the bacon.”
84. I must assist him)—Ver. 795. Colman remarks on this passage: “The character of Micio appears extremely amiable through the first four Acts of this Comedy, and his behavior is in many respects worthy of imitation; but his conduct in conniving at the irregularities of Ctesipho, and even assisting him to support them, is certainly reprehensible. Perhaps the Poet threw this shade over his virtues on purpose to show that mildness and good-humor might be carried to excess.”
84. I need to help him)—Ver. 795. Colman comments on this passage: “Micio's character seems really likable throughout the first four Acts of this Comedy, and in many ways, his behavior is worth emulating; however, his actions in overlooking Ctesipho's misbehavior and even helping him maintain it are definitely questionable. Maybe the Poet intentionally highlighted this flaw in his character to illustrate that kindness and good humor can be taken too far.”
85. That point I was coming to)—Ver. 824. Colman observes here: “Madame Dacier makes an observation on this speech, something like that of Donatus on one of Micio’s above; and says that Micio, being hard put to it by the real circumstances of the case, thinks to confound Demea by a nonsensical gallimatia. I can not be of the ingenious lady’s opinion on this matter, for I think a more sensible speech could not be made, nor a better plea offered in favor of the young men, than that of Micio in the present instance.”
85. That point I was getting to)—Ver. 824. Colman notes here: “Madame Dacier comments on this speech, similar to Donatus's remarks on one of Micio's earlier lines; she says that Micio, being backed into a corner by the actual circumstances, tries to confuse Demea with a bunch of nonsense. I can't agree with the clever lady’s view on this; I believe that there couldn't be a more sensible statement made, nor a stronger argument in favor of the young men, than the one Micio makes in this situation.”
86. At the very mid-day)—Ver. 851. Exposed to the heat of a mid-day sun.
86. At the very mid-day)—Ver. 851. Out in the heat of the midday sun.
87. To the object)—Ver. 857. The marriage and its festivities.
87. To the object)—Ver. 857. The wedding and its celebrations.
88. Am the eldest)—Ver. 884. And therefore likely to be the first to die, and to avoid seeing such a time come.
88. I'm the oldest)—Ver. 884. So I'm probably the first one to die, and I want to avoid witnessing that time.
89. O Syrus, my friend)—Ver. 886. The emptiness of his poor attempts to be familiar are very evident in this line.
89. Oh Syrus, my friend)—Ver. 886. The lack of substance in his feeble efforts to be close is very obvious in this line.
90. The music-girl)—Ver. 908. “Tibicinæ,” or music-girls, attended at marriage ceremonials. See the Aulularia of Plautus, where Megadorus hires the music-girls on his intended marriage with the daughter of Euclio.
90. The music-girl)—Ver. 908. “Tibicinæ,” or music-girls, were present at wedding ceremonies. See the Aulularia of Plautus, where Megadorus hires the music-girls for his planned marriage to Euclio's daughter.
91. The crowds, the torches)—Ver. 910. See the Casina of Plautus, Act IV., Scenes 3 and 4, for some account of the marriage ceremonial. The torches, music-girls, processions, and hymeneal song, generally accompanied a wedding, but from the present passage we may conclude that they were not considered absolutely necessary.
91. The crowds, the torches)—Ver. 910. Check out the Casina by Plautus, Act IV, Scenes 3 and 4 for details on the wedding ceremony. Torches, music girls, processions, and wedding songs typically accompanied a wedding, but from this passage, we can gather that they weren’t seen as absolutely essential.
92. Stone wall in the garden)—Ver. 911. The “maceria,” or garden-wall of loose stones, is also mentioned in the Truculentus of Plautus, l. 301.
92. Stone wall in the garden)—Ver. 911. The “maceria,” or garden-wall of loose stones, is also mentioned in the Truculentus of Plautus, l. 301.
93. Bid that Babylonian)—Ver. 918. This passage has much puzzled the Commentators; but it seems most probable that it is said aside, and that in consequence of his profuseness he calls his brother a Babylonian, (just as we call a wealthy man a nabob,) and says, “Well, let him, with all my heart, be paying twenty minæ (between £70 and £80) for music-girl.”
93. Bid that Babylonian)—Ver. 918. This section has confused many commentators, but it seems most likely that it’s said in jest, and because of his lavishness, he refers to his brother as a Babylonian (similarly to how we might call a wealthy person a nabob) and says, “Fine, let him happily pay twenty minæ (around £70 to £80) for a music girl.”
94. Take yourself off)—Ver. 940. Æschinus, probably, in his earnestness, has seized hold of him with his hand, which Micio now pushes away.
94. Get lost)—Ver. 940. Æschinus, likely in his seriousness, has grabbed him by the hand, which Micio is now pushing away.
95. I have promised it)—Ver. 943. This is not the truth; the notion has only been started since he last saw them.
95. I have promised it)—Ver. 943. This isn't the truth; this idea only came up since he last saw them.
96. Really, this is downright force)—Ver. 946. “Vis est hæc quidem.” The same expression occurs in the Captivi of Plautus, l. 755. The expression seemed to be a common one with the Romans. According to Suetonius, Julius Cæsar used it when attacked by his murderers in the senate-house. On Tullius Cimber seizing hold of his garments, he exclaimed, “Ita quidem vis est!”—“Why, really, this is violence!”
96. This is truly violence)—Ver. 946. “This is indeed force.” The same phrase appears in the Captivi of Plautus, l. 755. It seems this expression was quite common among the Romans. According to Suetonius, Julius Caesar used it when he was attacked by his assassins in the senate. When Tullius Cimber grabbed his clothes, he exclaimed, “This is indeed violence!”
97. This seems to me)—Ver. 947. Donatus informs us that in Menander’s Play, the old man did not make any resistance whatever to the match thus patched up for him. Colman has the following observation on this fact: “It is surprising that none of the critics on this passage have taken notice of this observation of Donatus, especially as our loss of Menander makes it rather curious. It is plain that Terence in the plan of his last Act followed Menander; but though he has adopted the absurdity of marrying Micio to the old lady, yet we learn from Donatus that his judgment rather revolted at this circumstance, and he improved on his original by making Micio express a repugnance to such a match, which it seems he did not in the Play of Menander.”
97. This seems to me)—Ver. 947. Donatus tells us that in Menander’s play, the old man didn’t resist the match that was arranged for him at all. Colman makes the following remark about this: “It’s surprising that none of the critics have mentioned Donatus’s observation on this passage, especially since losing Menander makes it quite intriguing. It’s clear that Terence followed Menander’s plan in his final act; however, while he kept the ridiculousness of marrying Micio to the old lady, we learn from Donatus that he was not completely on board with this idea. He improved on the original by having Micio show reluctance toward such a match, which apparently wasn’t the case in Menander’s play.”
98. At his own weapon)—Ver. 961. He probably means, by aping the kind feeling which is a part of Micio’s character.
98. At his own weapon)—Ver. 961. He likely means by mimicking the kindness that is part of Micio’s personality.
99. A morning entertainment)—Ver. 969. A banquet in the early part or middle of the day was considered by the Greeks a debauch.
99. A morning entertainment)—Ver. 969. A banquet held in the early part or middle of the day was seen by the Greeks as a wild party.
100. Be a free man)—Ver. 974. He touches Syrus on the ear, and makes him free. The same occurs in the Epidicus of Plautus, Act V., Sc. 2, l. 65.
100. Be a free man)—Ver. 974. He touches Syrus on the ear and sets him free. The same happens in the Epidicus by Plautus, Act V., Sc. 2, l. 65.
101. My wife, Phrygia)—Ver. 977. The so-called marriage, or rather cohabitation, of the Roman slaves will be found treated upon in the Notes to Plautus. Syrus calls Phrygia his wife on anticipation that she will become a free woman.
101. My wife, Phrygia)—Ver. 977. The so-called marriage, or rather living together, of Roman slaves is discussed in the Notes to Plautus. Syrus refers to Phrygia as his wife, hoping that she will become a free woman.
102. Receive the amount from me)—Ver. 981. The only sign of generosity he has yet shown.
102. Get the money from me)—Ver. 981. The only indication of kindness he has shown so far.
103. This sudden liberality)—Ver. 989. “Quid prolubium? Quae istæc subita est largitas?” Madame Dacier tells us that this passage was borrowed from Coecilius, the Comic Poet.
103. This sudden generosity—Ver. 989. “What’s all this about? What’s with this sudden generosity?” Madame Dacier informs us that this line was taken from Coecilius, the Comic Poet.
104. Let him have his mistress)—Ver. 1001. It must be remembered that he has the notions of a Greek parent, and sees no such criminality in this sanction as a parent would be sensible of at the present day.
104. Let him have his mistress)—Ver. 1001. It’s important to keep in mind that he has the views of a Greek parent and doesn't see the same wrongdoing in this approval that a parent might feel today.
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HECYRA;
MOTHER-IN-LAW
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Pamphilus,3 son of Laches. Pamphilus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Laches. Sosia,4 servant of Pamphilus. Sosia, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ servant of Pamphilus. Parmeno,5 servant of Sostrata. Parmeno, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sostrata's servant. |
Sostrata,6 wife of Laches. Sostrata, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ wife of Laches. Myrrhina,7 wife of Phidippus. Myrrhina, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ wife of Phidippus. Bacchis,8 a Courtesan. Bacchis, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Escort. Philotis,9 a Courtesan. Philotis, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Escort. Syra,10 a Procuress. Syra, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Pimp. |
Scene.—Athens; before the houses of Laches, Phidippus, and Bacchis.
Scene.—Athens; in front of the houses of Laches, Phidippus, and Bacchis.
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THE SUBJECT.
Pamphilus, the son of Laches by his wife Sostrata, being at the time enamored of Bacchis, a Courtesan, chances, one night, in a drunken fit, to debauch Philumena, the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina. In the struggle he takes a ring from her, which he gives to Bacchis. Some time afterward, at his father’s express desire, he consents to marry. By chance the young woman whom he has ravished is given to him as a wife, to the great joy of her mother, who alone is aware of her misfortune, and hopes that her disgrace may be thereby concealed. It, however, happens otherwise; for Pamphilus, still retaining his passion for Bacchis, refuses for some time to cohabit with her. Bacchis, however, now rejects the advances of Pamphilus, who by degrees becomes weaned from his affection for her, and grows attached to his wife, whom he has hitherto disliked. Meantime, however, he is suddenly called away from home. During his absence, Philumena, finding herself pregnant in consequence of her misfortune before her marriage, fearing detection, especially avoids the company of her mother-in-law. At length she makes an excuse for returning to the home of her own parents, where she remains. Sostrata thereupon sends for her, but is answered that she is ill, on which she goes to see her, but is refused admittance to the house. On hearing of this, Laches blames his wife as being the cause of this estrangement. Pamphilus now returns, and it so happens that, on the day of his arrival, Philumena is brought to bed of a child. Impatient to see her, Pamphilus rushes into her room, and to his great distress finds that this is the case. Myrrhina thereupon entreats him to keep the matter secret, and begs him, if he refuses to receive her daughter back again, at least not to ruin her reputation by divulging it. As he now declines either to take back his wife or give his reason for so doing, Laches suspects that he is still enamored of Bacchis, and accordingly sends for her, and expostulates with her. She, however, exonerates herself; on which the old man, supposing that Philumena and her mother are equally ignorant with himself as to his son’s motives, begs her to call on them and remove their suspicions. While she is conversing with them, they recognize the ring upon her finger which Pamphilus had formerly taken from Philumena. By means of this it is discovered that Pamphilus himself is the person who has ravished Philumena; on which, overjoyed, he immediately takes home his wife and son.
Pam, the son of Laches and his wife Sostrata, is in love with Bacchis, a courtesan. One night, while drunk, he ends up making advances on Philumena, the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina. In the process, he takes off a ring from her and gives it to Bacchis. Later, at his father's request, he agrees to get married. Coincidentally, the woman he assaulted is given to him as a wife, which brings joy to her mother, who is the only one aware of her shame and hopes this will hide it. However, things take a different turn; Pamphilus, still infatuated with Bacchis, refuses to sleep with his wife for a while. Bacchis, on the other hand, starts to turn away from Pamphilus, and slowly he begins to lose interest in her and grows fond of his wife, whom he previously disliked. Meanwhile, he gets called away from home. While he is gone, Philumena discovers she is pregnant because of what happened before her marriage and, fearing it will be found out, avoids her mother-in-law. Eventually, she makes an excuse to go back to her parents' home, where she stays. Sostrata sends for her, but is told she is sick. When she tries to visit, she is denied entry. This makes Laches blame his wife for the situation. Pamphilus returns, and on the day he arrives, Philumena gives birth to a child. Eager to see her, Pamphilus rushes into her room and is devastated to discover this. Myrrhina then pleads with him to keep this a secret and asks him not to ruin her daughter’s reputation if he refuses to take her back. Since he won’t take back his wife or explain why, Laches suspects he is still in love with Bacchis. He calls for her and confronts her. Bacchis defends herself, and Laches, thinking Philumena and her mother have no clue about his son’s intentions, asks Bacchis to visit them and clear their suspicions. While she talks to them, they notice the ring on her finger that Pamphilus had previously taken from Philumena. This leads to the realization that Pamphilus is the one who assaulted Philumena, and in his joy, he immediately takes his wife and son home.
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THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Megalensian Games; Sextus Julius Csesar and Cneius Cornelius Dolabella being Curule Ædiles. The whole was not then acted. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to a pair of flutes. It was composed wholly from the Greek of Menander.11 It was performed the first time without a Prologue. Represented a second time; Cneius Octavius and T. Manlius being Consuls.12 It was then brought out in honor of L. Æmilius Paulus, at his Funeral Games, and was not approved of. It was repeated a third time; Q. Fulvius and L. Marcius being Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio performed it. It was then approved of.13
Done at the Megalensian Games; Sextus Julius Caesar and Cneius Cornelius Dolabella serving as Curule Aediles. The entire performance was not staged at that time. Flaccus, who was a freedman of Claudius, composed the music for a pair of flutes, entirely inspired by the Greek playwright Menander.11 It was first performed without a Prologue. It was presented a second time with Cneius Octavius and T. Manlius as Consuls.12 It was then performed again in honor of L. Aemilius Paulus during his Funeral Games, but it did not receive approval. It was repeated for a third time with Q. Fulvius and L. Marcius as Curule Aediles, and L. Ambivius Turpio performed it. This time, it was approved.13
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HECYRA;
THE MOTHER-IN-LAW
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
Pamphilus has married Philumena, to whom, when a virgin, he formerly, not knowing who she was, offered violence; and whose ring which he took off by force, he gave to his mistress, Bacchis, a Courtesan. Afterward he sets out for Imbros, not having touched his bride. Having become pregnant, her mother brings her over to her own house, as though sick, that her mother-in-law may not know it. Pamphilus returns; detects her being delivered; conceals it; but determines not to take back his wife. His father imputes this to his passion for Bacchis. While Bacchis is exculpating herself, Myrrhina, the mother of the injured girl, by chance recognizes the ring. Pamphilus takes back his wife, together with his son.
Pamphilus has married Philumena, who, when she was a virgin, he once tried to assault without knowing her identity; he took her ring by force and gave it to his mistress, Bacchis, a courtesan. Later, he leaves for Imbros without having slept with his bride. Afterward, Philumena’s mother brings her home under the pretense of illness to hide her pregnancy from her mother-in-law. Pamphilus returns and discovers she has given birth; he keeps it a secret but decides not to take back his wife. His father believes this is due to his infatuation with Bacchis. While Bacchis is defending herself, Myrrhina, the mother of the wronged girl, happens to recognize the ring. Pamphilus reclaims his wife, along with their son.
THE FIRST PROLOGUE.
Hecyra14 is the name of this Play; when it was represented for the first time, an unusual disaster and calamity15 interrupted it, so that it could not be witnessed throughout or estimated; so much had the populace, carried away with admiration, devoted their attention to some rope-dancing. It is now offered as though entirely a new Play; and he who wrote it did not wish to bring it forward then a second time, on purpose that he might be able again to sell it.16 Other Plays of 258 his17 you have seen represented; I beg you now to give your attention to this.
Hecyra14 is the title of this play; when it was first performed, an unusual disaster15 interrupted it, so it couldn’t be fully experienced or evaluated; the audience was so caught up in admiration that they focused on some rope-dancing instead. It is now presented as if it’s a completely new play, and the writer didn’t want to perform it again back then to have the chance to sell it later.16 You have seen other plays of his17, so I ask you now to pay attention to this one.
THE SECOND PROLOGUE.18
I come to you as an envoy from the Poet, in the character of prologue-speaker; allow me to be a successful pleader, that in my old age I may enjoy the same privilege that I enjoyed when a, younger man, when I caused new Plays, that had been once rejected, to come into favor; so that his writings might not die with the Poet. Among them, as to those of Cæcilius,19 which I first studied when new; in some of which I was rejected; in some I kept my ground with difficulty. As I knew that the fortune of the stage was varying, where the hopes were uncertain, I submitted to certain toil. Those I zealously attempted to perform, that from the same writer I might learn new ones, and not discourage him from his pursuits. I caused them to be represented. When seen, they pleased. Thus did I restore the Poet to his place, who was now almost weaned, through the malevolence of his adversaries, from his pursuits and labors, and from the dramatic art. But if I had at that period slighted the writer, and had wished to use my endeavors 259 in discouraging him, so that he might live a life of idleness rather than of study, I might have easily discouraged him from writing others. Now, for my sake, hear with unbiased minds what it is I ask. I again bring before you the Hecyra, which I have never been allowed to act before you in silence; such misfortunes have so overwhelmed it. These misfortunes your intelligence will allay, if it is a seconder of our exertions. The first time, when I began to act this Play, the vauntings of boxers,20 the expectation of a rope-dancer,21 added to which, the throng of followers, the noise, the clamor of the women, caused me to retire from your presence before the time. In this new Play, I attempted to follow the old custom of mine,22 of making a fresh trial; I brought it on again. In the first Act I pleased; when in the mean time a rumor spread that gladiators were about to be exhibited; the populace flock together, make a tumult, clamor aloud, and fight for their places:23 meantime, I was unable to maintain my place. Now there is no confusion: there is attention and silence—an opportunity of acting my Play has been granted me; to yourselves is given the power of gracing the scenic festival.24 Do not permit, through your agency, the dramatic 260 art to sink into the hands of a few; let your authority prove a seconder and assistant to my own. If I have never covetously set a price upon my skill, and have come to this conclusion, that it is the greatest gain in the highest possible degree to contribute to your entertainment; allow me to obtain this of you, that him who has intrusted his labors to my protection, and himself to your integrity,—that him, I say, the malicious may not maliciously deride, beset by them on every side. For my sake, admit of this plea, and attend in silence, that he may be encouraged to write other Plays, and that it may be for my advantage to study new ones hereafter, purchased at my own expense.25
I’m coming to you as a messenger from the Poet, speaking as a prologue; please allow me to be a convincing advocate so that in my old age, I can enjoy the same privilege I had when I was younger, when I helped new plays, previously rejected, gain favor, so that his writings don’t disappear with the Poet. Among them, especially those by Cæcilius,19 which I first studied when they were new; in some I was rejected; in others I barely held my ground. Understanding the unpredictable nature of the stage, where hopes are uncertain, I undertook certain efforts. I eagerly tried to perform those plays, hoping to learn new ones from the same writer and not discourage him from his work. I arranged for them to be performed. When presented, they were well received. Thus, I revitalized the Poet's standing, who was nearly discouraged from his work and the art of drama due to the hostility of his critics. But if I had disregarded the writer back then, choosing to use my efforts to discourage him into idleness rather than dedication, I could have easily deterred him from writing more. Now, for my sake, please listen openly to what I request. I once again present the Hecyra, which I have never been able to perform before you because of unfortunate circumstances. Your understanding can ease these troubles if it supports our efforts. The first time I tried to perform this Play, the loud boastings of boxers, 20 the expectations surrounding a rope-dancer, 21 along with the crowd of followers and the noise from the women, forced me to step away before I could finish. In this new presentation, I attempted to adhere to my old practice of mine, 22 of making a fresh attempt; I brought it out once more. In the first Act, I succeeded; however, as a rumor spread that gladiators were about to be showcased, the crowd gathered, creating chaos, shouting loudly, and fighting for their spots: 23 I could no longer hold my place. Now there is no confusion: there is focus and silence—I've been given the chance to perform my Play; it's up to you to enhance the scenic festival. 24 Do not let the dramatic art fall into the hands of just a few because of your actions; let your authority help and support mine. If I have never greedily placed a value on my talents and have concluded that the greatest reward is to contribute to your enjoyment, please allow me this request: that the one who has entrusted his work to me and himself to your fairness—that he, I say, not become a target of malicious ridicule or beset by them on all sides. For my sake, accept this plea and listen quietly, so that he may be motivated to write more Plays and that it may benefit me to study new ones in the future, funded by my own resources. 25
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Philotis26 and Syra.
Enter Philotis__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ and Syra.
Phil. I’faith, Syra, you can find but very few lovers who prove constant to their mistresses. For instance, how often did this Pamphilus swear to Bacchis—how solemnly, so that 261 any one might have readily believed him—that he never would take home a wife so long as she lived. Well now, he is married.
Phil. Honestly, Syra, you can find very few lovers who stay loyal to their partners. For example, how many times did Pamphilus swear to Bacchis—so seriously that anyone could have easily believed him—that he would never marry as long as she was alive. Well, now he’s married.
Syr. Therefore, for that very reason, I earnestly both advise and entreat you to take pity upon no one, but plunder, fleece, and rend every man you lay hold of.
Syrup. So, for that very reason, I sincerely advise and urge you to show no mercy, but to rob, exploit, and tear apart everyone you come across.
Phil. What! Hold no one exempt?
What! Hold no one exempt?
Syr. No one; for not a single one of them, rest assured, comes to you without making up his mind, by means of his flatteries, to gratify his passion with you at the least possible expense. Will you not, pray, plot against them in return?
Syrup. No one; because not a single one of them, believe me, approaches you without planning to indulge their desires with you while spending as little as possible. Will you not, I ask, scheme against them in return?
Phil. And yet, upon my faith, it is unfair to be the same to all.
Phil. And yet, honestly, it's not fair to treat everyone the same.
Syr. What! unfair to take revenge on your enemies? or, for them to be caught in the very way they try to catch you? Alas! wretched me! why do not your age and beauty belong to me, or else these sentiments of mine to you?
Syrup. What! Is it unfair to take revenge on your enemies? Or for them to get caught in the same way they try to trap you? Oh, wretched me! Why don't your youth and beauty belong to me, or why can't my feelings be for you?
Scene II.
Enter Parmeno from the house of Laches.
Enter Parmeno from the house of Laches.
Par. (at the door, speaking to Scirtus within.) If the old man should be asking for me, do you say that I have just gone to the harbor to inquire about the arrival of Pamphilus. Do you hear what I say, Scirtus? If he asks for me, then you are to say so; if he does not, why, say nothing at all; so that at another time I may be able to employ that excuse as a new one. (Comes forward, and looking around.)—But is it my dear Philotis that I see? How has she come here? (Accosting her.) Philotis heartily good-morrow.
Par. (at the door, speaking to Scirtus inside.) If the old man asks for me, tell him I just went to the harbor to check on Pamphilus's arrival. Do you hear me, Scirtus? If he asks for me, then that’s what you say; if he doesn’t, then, don’t say anything at all; this way, I can use that excuse again later. (Steps forward, looking around.)—But is that my dear Philotis I see? How did she get here? (Addressing her.) Good morning, Philotis!
Phil. O, good-morrow, Parmeno.
Hey, good morning, Parmeno.
Syr. By my troth, good-morrow, Parmeno.
Syr. I swear, good morning, Parmeno.
Par. I’faith, Syra, the same to you. Philotis, tell me, where have you been enjoying yourself so long?
Par. Honestly, Syra, same to you. Philotis, can you tell me where you've been having such a good time?
Phil. For my part, indeed, I have been far from enjoying myself, in leaving this place for Corinth with a most brutal captain; for two whole years, there, had I to put up with him to my sorrow.
Phil. To be honest, I haven't enjoyed leaving this place for Corinth with a really awful captain; I had to endure him for two whole years, which was definitely not a pleasant experience.
Par. I’troth, I fancy that regret for Athens full oft possessed 262 you, and that you thought but poorly of your foresight.
Par. I believe that you often regretted leaving Athens and that you thought your foresight was lacking. 262
Phil. It can not be expressed how impatient I was to return hither, get rid of the captain, and see yourselves here, that after our old fashion I might at my ease enjoy the merry-makings among you; for there it was not allowed me to speak, except at the moment prescribed, and on such subjects as he chose.
Phil. I can’t even describe how eager I was to come back here, get away from the captain, and see you all again so I could relax and enjoy the fun times together like we used to; because there, I wasn’t allowed to speak except at the specific times he set and only about topics he picked.
Par. (sarcastically.) I don’t think it was gallant in the captain to place a restraint on your tongue.
Par. (sarcastically.) I don’t think it was very brave of the captain to silence you.
Phil. But what is this piece of business that Bacchis has just now been telling me in-doors here? (pointing to her house.) A thing I never supposed would come to pass, that he, in her lifetime, could possibly prevail upon his feelings to take a wife.
Phil. But what is this situation that Bacchis just told me about inside? (pointing to her house.) A thing I never thought would happen, that he could actually convince himself to marry while she’s still around.
Par. To take, indeed!
Sure thing!
Phil. Why, look you, has he not taken one?
Phil. Well, why hasn’t he taken one?
Par. He has; but I doubt whether this match will be lasting.
Par. He does, but I'm not sure this relationship will last.
Phil. May the Gods and Goddesses grant it so, if it is for the advantage of Bacchis. But why am I to believe it is so? Tell me, Parmeno.
Phil. I hope the Gods and Goddesses make it happen, if it benefits Bacchis. But why should I believe that? Tell me, Parmeno.
Par. There is no need for its being spread abroad; ask me no more about it.
Par. There's no need to talk about it; just don't ask me about it anymore.
Phil. For fear, I suppose, it may be made public. So may the Gods prosper me, I do not ask you in order that I may spread it abroad, but that, in silence, I may rejoice within myself.
Phil. I guess I'm afraid it might get out. So help me God, I'm not asking you so I can share it with others, but so I can quietly enjoy it for myself.
Par. You’ll never speak me so fairly, that I shall trust my back to your discretion.
Par. You’ll never talk to me so nicely that I’ll trust you to have my back.
Phil. Oh, don’t say so, Parmeno;27 as though you were not much more impatient to tell me this, than I to learn what I’m inquiring about.
Phil. Oh, don’t say that, Parmeno;27 as if you aren’t more eager to share this with me than I am to find out what I’m asking about.
Par. (to himself.) She tells the truth there; and that is my greatest failing. (To Philotis.) If you give me your word that you’ll keep it a secret, I’ll tell you.
Par. (to himself.) She speaks the truth there; and that's my biggest weakness. (To Philotis.) If you promise me you'll keep it confidential, I'll share it with you.
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263
Phil. You are now returning to your natural disposition. I give you my word; say on.
Phil. You are now going back to your true self. I promise you; go ahead and speak.
Par. Listen.
Par. Hey, listen up.
Phil. I’m all attention.
Phil. I'm all ears.
Par. Pamphilus was in the height of his passion for Bacchis here, when his father began to importune him to take a wife, and to urge those points which are usual with all fathers, that he himself was now in years, and that he was his only son, that he wished for a support for his declining years. He refused at first. But on his father pressing more urgently, he caused him to become wavering in his mind, whether to yield rather to duty or to love. By hammering on and teazing him, at last the old man gained his point; and betrothed him to the daughter of our next-door neighbor here (pointing to the house of Phidippus). This did not seem so very disagreeable to Pamphilus, until on the very point of marriage, when he saw that all was ready, and that no respite was granted, but marry he must; then, at last, he took it so much to heart, that I do believe if Bacchis had been present, even she would have pitied him. Whenever opportunity was afforded for us being alone, so that he could converse with me, he used to say: “Parmeno, I am ruined! What have I done! Into what misery have I plunged myself! Parmeno, I shall never be able to endure this. To my misery, I am undone!”
Par. Pamphilus was completely infatuated with Bacchis when his father started urging him to get married, bringing up the usual points all dads make: that he was getting older, that Pamphilus was his only son, and that he wanted someone to support him in his old age. At first, Pamphilus resisted. But as his father pressed more insistently, it left him torn between his duty and his love. After a lot of nagging, the old man finally got his way and betrothed him to the daughter of our neighbor here (pointing to the house of Phidippus). Pamphilus didn’t mind it too much at first, but right before the wedding, when everything was ready and there was no way out, he became overwhelmed. I believe if Bacchis had been there, she would have felt sorry for him as well. Whenever we had a chance to be alone, he would tell me, “Parmeno, I’m doomed! What have I done! What a miserable situation I’ve gotten myself into! Parmeno, I can’t stand this. I’m utterly ruined!”
Phil. (vehemently exclaiming.) May the Gods and Goddesses confound you, Laches, for vexing him so!
Phil. (shouting passionately.) May the Gods and Goddesses confuse you, Laches, for annoying him like that!
Par. To cut the matter short, he took home his wife. On the first night, he did not touch the girl; the night that followed that, not a bit the more.
Par. To make a long story short, he took his wife home. On the first night, he didn't touch her; the night after that, not at all.
Phil. What is it you tell me? A young man go to bed with a virgin, intoxicated to boot, and able to restrain himself from touching her! You do not say what’s likely; nor do I believe it to be the truth.
Phil. What are you saying? A young man goes to bed with a virgin, drunk to boot, and manages to hold back from touching her! You're not being realistic; I don't think that's true.
Par. I suppose it does seem so to you, for no one comes to you unless he is eager for you; but he had married her against his will.
Par. I guess it looks like that to you, since no one approaches you unless they're really into you; but he married her against his wishes.
Phil. After this, what followed?
Phil. What happened next?
Par. In a very few days after, Pamphilus took me aside, away from the house, and told me how that the young woman was still untouched by him; and how that before he had taken her home as his wife, he had hoped to be able to endure this 264 marriage: “But, Parmeno, as I can not resolve to live with her any longer, it is neither honorable in me, nor of advantage to the young woman herself, for her to be turned to ridicule, but rather I ought to return her to her relations just as I received her.”
Par. In just a few days, Pamphilus pulled me aside, away from the house, and told me that the young woman was still untouched by him; and how he had hoped to endure the marriage before taking her home as his wife: “But, Parmeno, since I can’t bring myself to live with her any longer, it’s neither honorable for me nor beneficial for the young woman to be embarrassed. Instead, I should return her to her family just as I received her.” 264
Phil. You tell me of a conscientious and virtuous disposition in Pamphilus.
Phil. You tell me that Pamphilus is thoughtful and has a good character.
Par. “For me to declare this, I consider to be inconvenient to me, but for her to be sent back to her father without mentioning any blame, would be insolent; but I am in hopes that she, when she is sensible that she can not live with me, will go at last of her own accord.”
Par. “Honestly, it’s inconvenient for me to say this, but sending her back to her father without mentioning any faults would be rude. Still, I hope that when she realizes she can’t live with me, she will finally leave on her own.”
Phil. What did he do in the mean while? Used he to visit Bacchis?
Phil. What was he doing in the meantime? Did he used to visit Bacchis?
Par. Every day. But as usually is the case, after she saw that he belonged to another, she immediately became more ill-natured and more peevish.
Par. Every day. But as usually happens, after she saw that he was with someone else, she instantly became more unpleasant and irritable.
Phil. I’faith, that’s not to be wondered at.
Phil. Honestly, that’s not shocking.
Par. And this circumstance in especial contributed to estrange him from her; after he had fairly examined himself, and her, and the one that was at home, he formed a judgment, by comparison, upon the principles of them both. She, just as might be expected from a person of respectable and free birth, chaste and virtuous, patient under the slights and all the insults of her husband, and concealing his affronts. Upon this, his mind, partly overcome by compassion for his wife, partly constrained by the insolence of the other, was gradually estranged from Bacchis, and transferred its affections to the other, after having found a congenial disposition. In the mean time, there dies at Imbros28 an old man, a relative of theirs. His property there devolved on them by law. Thither his father drove the love-sick Pamphilus, much against his will. He left his wife here with his mother, for the old man has retired into the country; he seldom comes into the city.
Par. This situation particularly pushed him away from her; after he had thoroughly examined himself, her, and the one who was at home, he formed a judgment by comparing the two. She, just as you would expect from someone with a respectable and free background, was chaste and virtuous, patient with the slights and insults from her husband, and kept his offenses to herself. Because of this, his mind, partly overwhelmed with compassion for his wife and partly forced by the other’s arrogance, gradually grew distant from Bacchis and shifted his affections to the other, after realizing they shared a similar disposition. In the meantime, an old man, a relative of theirs, dies at Imbros28. His property there passed to them by law. His father took the lovesick Pamphilus there, much to his dismay. He left his wife here with his mother, since the old man has moved to the countryside and rarely comes to the city.
Phil. What is there yet in this marriage to prevent its being lasting?
Phil. What could still keep this marriage from lasting?
Par. You shall hear just now. At first, for several days, there really was a good understanding between them. In the 265 mean time, however, in a strange way, she began to take a dislike to Sostrata; nor yet was there ever any quarrel or words between them.
Par. You'll see in a moment. For the first few days, they actually got along pretty well. However, oddly enough, she started to develop a dislike for Sostrata; yet there was never any argument or harsh words between them. 265
Phil. What then?
What now?
Par. If at any time she came to converse with her, she would instantly withdraw from her presence,29 and refuse to see her; in fine, when she could no longer endure her, she pretended that she was sent for by her mother to assist at a sacrifice. When she had been there a few days, Sostrata ordered her to be fetched. She made some, I know not what, excuse. Again she gave similar orders; no one sent back any excuse. After she had sent for her repeatedly, they pretended that the damsel was sick. My mistress immediately went to see her; no one admitted her. On the old man coming to know of this, he yesterday came up from the country on purpose, and waited immediately upon the father of Philumena. What passed between them, I do not know as yet; but really I do feel some anxiety in what way this is to end. You now have the whole matter; and I shall proceed whither I was on my way.
Par. Whenever she tried to talk to her, she would immediately pull away and refuse to stay in the same room; ultimately, when she could no longer handle her, she claimed her mother had called her to help with a sacrifice. After spending a few days there, Sostrata ordered her to be brought back. She came up with some excuse, but then Sostrata repeated the orders, and no one returned with any explanation. After several requests, they claimed the girl was sick. My mistress went to check on her, but no one let her in. When the old man found out about this, he came from the countryside yesterday specifically to talk to Philumena's father. I don’t know what they discussed yet, but honestly, I'm quite worried about how this will all turn out. You now have the entire situation; and I will continue on my way.
Phil. And I too, for I made an appointment with a certain stranger30 to meet him.
Phil. And I did too, because I set up a meeting with a certain stranger30 to meet him.
Par. May the Gods prosper what you undertake!
Par. May the gods support what you set out to do!
Phil. Farewell!
Phil. Goodbye!
Par. And a kind farewell to you, my dear Philotis.
Par. And a warm goodbye to you, my dear Philotis.
Exeunt severally.
Exit separately.
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266
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.31
Enter Laches and Sostrata, from the house of the former.
Enter Laches and Sostrata from Laches' place.
Lach. O faith of Gods and men! what a race is this! what a conspiracy this! that all women should desire and reject every individual thing alike! And not a single one can you find to swerve in any respect from the disposition of the rest. For instance, quite as though with one accord, do all mothers-in-law hate their daughters-in-law. Just in the same way is it their system to oppose their husbands; their obstinacy here is the same. In the very same school they all seem to me to have been trained up to perverseness. Of that school, if there is any mistress, I am very sure that she (pointing at Sostrata) it is.
LMAO. Oh, the faith of Gods and men! What a crazy bunch this is! What a scheme this is! That all women want the same thing yet refuse everything alike! You can't find a single one who strays from the way the others think. For example, just like everyone’s in agreement, all mothers-in-law dislike their daughters-in-law. They also seem to take the same stance against their husbands; their stubbornness here is the same. It's like they've all been taught to be difficult in the same school. And if there’s a head teacher of that school, I’m pretty sure it’s her. (pointing at Sostrata)
Sos. Wretched me! when now I don’t so much as know why I am accused!
SOS. Poor me! Now I don’t even know why I’m being accused!
Lach. Eh! you don’t know?
Lach. Eh! You don't know?
Sos. So may the Gods kindly prosper me, Laches, and so may it be allowed us to pass our lives together in unity!
SOS. May the Gods bless me, Laches, and may we be able to spend our lives together in harmony!
Lach. (aside.) May the Gods avert such a misfortune!
Lmao. (aside.) May the Gods prevent such a disaster!
Sos. I’m sure that before long you will be sensible that I have been accused by you undeservedly.
SOS. I'm sure that soon you'll realize I've been unfairly accused by you.
Lach. You, undeservedly? Can any thing possibly be said that you deserve in return for this conduct of yours? 267 You, who are disgracing both me and yourself and the family, and are laying up sorrow for your son. Then besides, you are making our connections become, from friends, enemies to us, who have thought him deserving for them to intrust their children32 to him. You alone have put yourself forward, by your folly, to be causing this disturbance.
LMAO. You, undeservedly? Is there anything that can actually be said that you deserve for this behavior of yours? 267 You, who are bringing shame on both me and yourself and the family, and are creating pain for your son. Plus, you’re turning our connections from friends into enemies, those who once thought he was worthy of caring for their children32 . You alone have made yourself the cause of this mess with your foolishness.
Sos. What, I?
Sos. What do I do?
Lach. You, woman, I say, who take me to be a stone, not a man. Do you think because it’s my habit to be so much in the country, that I don’t know in what way each person is passing his life here? I know much better what is going on here than there, where I am daily; for this reason, because, just as you act at home, I am spoken of abroad. Some time since, indeed, I heard that Philumena had taken a dislike to you; nor did I the least wonder at it; indeed, if she hadn’t done so, it would have been more surprising. But I did not suppose that she would have gone so far as to hate even the whole of the family; if I had known that, she should have remained here in preference, and you should have gone away. But consider how undeservedly these vexations arise on your account, Sostrata; I went to live in the country, in compliance with your request, and to look after my affairs, in order that my circumstances might be able to support your lavishness and comforts, not sparing my own exertions, beyond what’s reasonable and my time of life allows. That you should take no care, in return for all this, that there should be nothing to vex me!
Laugh. You, woman, I say, who see me as a stone and not a man. Do you think that just because I spend a lot of time in the country, I don’t know how everyone is living their lives here? I know much better what’s happening here than there, where I’m there every day; for this reason, because just like you act at home, I’m talked about elsewhere. Some time ago, I heard that Philumena had taken a dislike to you; I wasn’t surprised at all; in fact, if she hadn’t, that would have been more surprising. But I didn’t think she would go so far as to hate the entire family; if I’d known that, she should have stayed here instead, and you should have left. But think about how unfairly these troubles arise because of you, Sostrata; I moved to the country at your request to manage my affairs, so I could support your lavish lifestyle and comforts, not holding back on my own efforts, beyond what’s reasonable for my age. You should at least take care that nothing bothers me in return for all of this!
Sos. Upon my word, through no means or fault of mine has this taken place.
SOS. I swear, this has happened through no action or fault of mine.
Lach. Nay, through you in especial; you were the only person here; on you alone, Sostrata, falls all the blame. You ought to have taken care of matters here, as I had released you from other anxieties. Is it not a disgrace for an old woman to pick a quarrel with a girl? You will say it was her fault.
Lmao. No, especially through you; you were the only one here; all the blame rests on you, Sostrata. You should have managed things while I freed you from other concerns. Isn't it embarrassing for an older woman to argue with a girl? You'll say it was her fault.
Sos. Indeed I do not say so, my dear Laches.
SOS. Actually, I’m not saying that, my friend Laches.
Lach. I am glad of that, so may the Gods prosper me, for my son’s sake. I am quite sure of this, that no fault of yours can possibly put you in a worse light.
Lmao. I'm really glad to hear that, and I hope the Gods help me for my son's sake. I’m absolutely certain about this: nothing you've done can make you look any worse.
Sos. How do you know, my husband, whether she may not 268 have pretended to dislike me, on purpose that she might be more with her mother?
Help. How do you know, my husband, whether she might not have acted like she disliked me on purpose so she could spend more time with her mom? 268
Lach. What say you to this? Is it not proof sufficient, when yesterday no one was willing to admit you into the house, when you went to see her?
LMAO. What do you think of this? Isn't it enough proof that yesterday no one wanted to let you into the house when you went to see her?
Sos. Why, they told me that she was very ill just then; for that reason I was not admitted to her.
SOS. They told me she was really sick at that time; that's why I couldn't see her.
Lach. I fancy that your humors are more her malady than any thing else; and with good reason in fact, for there is not one of you but wants her son to take a wife; and the match which has taken your fancy must be the one; when, at your solicitation, they have married, then, at your solicitation, they are to put them away again.
Lmao. I believe that your feelings are more about her problem than anything else; and that’s understandable because each of you wants her son to get married. The match you’ve chosen must be the right one; when you push for the marriage, then, at your request, they should break up again.
Scene II.
Enter Phidippus from his house.
Enter Phidippus from his home.
Phid. (speaking to Philumena within.) Although I am aware, Philumena, that I have the right to compel you to do what I order, still, being swayed by the feelings of a father, I will prevail upon myself to yield to you, and not oppose your inclination.
Phid (speaking to Philumena within.) Even though I know, Philumena, that I have the authority to make you follow my orders, I will let my feelings as a father guide me. I’ll choose to give in to your wishes and support your desires instead of resisting them.
Lach. And look, most opportunely I see Phidippus; I’ll presently know from him how it is. (Accosting him.) Phidippus, although I am aware that I am particularly indulgent to all my family, still it is not to that degree to let my good nature corrupt their minds. And if you would do the same, it would be more for your own interest and ours. At present I see that you are under the control of those women.
Lmao. And look, just in time, I see Phidippus; I’ll find out from him what’s going on. (Approaching him.) Phidippus, even though I know I tend to be really lenient with my family, I won’t let my kindness ruin their minds. If you could do the same, it would be better for both you and us. Right now, I can see that those women have a hold on you.
Phid. Just look at that, now!
Phid. Check that out now!
Lach. I waited on you yesterday about your daughter; you sent me away just as wise as I came. It does not become you, if you wish this alliance to continue, to conceal your resentment. If there is any fault on our side, disclose it; either by clearing ourselves, or excusing it, we shall remedy these matters for you, yourself the judge. But if this is the cause of detaining her at your house, because she is ill, then I think that you do me an injustice, Phidippus, if you are afraid lest she should not be attended with sufficient care at my house. But, so may the Gods prosper me, I do not yield in this to you, although you are her father, that you can wish her well more than I do, and that on my son’s account, who I 269 know values her not less than his own self. Nor, in fact, is it unknown to you, how much, as I believe, it will vex him, if he comes to know33 of this; for this reason, I wish to have her home before he returns.
Lmao. I came to talk to you yesterday about your daughter; you sent me away just as confused as I was when I arrived. If you want this relationship to keep going, it's not right to hide your feelings. If we've done something wrong, please let us know; by either clearing our names or justifying our actions, we can address these issues, with you as the judge. But if the reason you're keeping her at your place is that she's sick, then I think you're treating me unfairly, Phidippus, if you think she wouldn't get the proper care at my house. But, I swear by the Gods, I won’t back down on this, even though you're her father, in believing that you care for her more than I do, especially for my son's sake, who I know values her as much as he values himself. Also, you know well how much it would upset him if he finds out about this; for that reason, I want her home before he returns.
Phid. Laches, I am sensible of both your carefulness and your good-will, and I am persuaded that all you say is just as you say: and I would have you believe me in this; I am anxious for her to return to you, if I possibly can by any means effect it.
Philosopher. Laches, I really appreciate your concern and your good intentions, and I truly believe that what you say is exactly how it is. I want you to trust me on this; I’m eager for her to come back to you, and I’ll do everything I can to make that happen.
Lach. What is it prevents you from effecting it? Come, now, does she make any complaint against her husband?
Lmao. What’s stopping you from doing it? Come on, does she have any complaints about her husband?
Phid. By no means; for when I urged it still more strongly, and attempted to constrain her by force to return, she solemnly protested that she couldn’t possibly remain with you, while Pamphilus was absent. Probably each has his own failing; I am naturally of an indulgent disposition; I can not thwart my own family.
Phid Not at all; when I pushed harder and tried to make her come back by force, she firmly insisted that she couldn't possibly stay with you while Pamphilus was away. Everyone has their own flaws; I'm naturally easygoing; I can't go against my own family.
Lach. (turning to his wife, who stands apart.) Ha! Sostrata!34
Lmao. (turning to his wife, who stands apart.) Ha! Sostrata!34
Sos. (sighing deeply.) Alas! wretched me!
Sos. (sighing deeply) Oh no, poor me!
Lach. (to Phidippus.) Is this your final determination?
LMAO. (to Phidippus.) Is this your final decision?
Phid. For the present, at least, as it seems; but have you any thing else to say? for I have some business that obliges me to go at once to the Forum.
Phid For now, it seems; but do you have anything else to say? I have some business that I need to take care of at the Forum right away.
Lach. I’ll go with you.
Lach. I’m coming with you.
Exeunt.
Exit.
Scene III.
Sostrata alone.
Sostrata by herself.
Sos. Upon my faith, we assuredly are all of us hated by our husbands with equal injustice, on account of a few, who 270 cause us all to appear deserving of harsh treatment. For, so may the Gods prosper me, as to what my husband accuses me of, I am quite guiltless. But it is not so easy to clear myself, so strongly have people come to the conclusion that all step-mothers are harsh: i’faith, not I, indeed, for I never regarded her otherwise than if she had been my own daughter; nor can I conceive how this has befallen me. But really, for many reasons, I long for my son’s return home with impatience.
SOS. I swear, all of us are unjustly hated by our husbands, just because of a few who make us all look like we deserve mistreatment. I’m telling you, as far as my husband’s accusations go, I’m completely innocent. But it’s not easy to prove that since people have come to believe that all stepmothers are cruel. Truly, I'm not; I’ve always treated her like she was my own daughter, and I can't understand how this happened to me. Honestly, for many reasons, I can’t wait for my son to come back home.
Goes into her house.
Enters her house.
ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Pamphilus and Parmeno.
Enter Pamphilus and Parmeno.
Pam. No individual, I do believe, ever met with more crosses in love than I. Alas! unhappy me! that I have thus been sparing of life! Was it for this I was so very impatient to return home? O, how much more preferable had it been for me to pass my life any where in the world than to return here and be sensible that I am thus wretched! For all of us know who have met with trouble from any cause, that all the time that passes before we come to the knowledge of it, is so much gain.
Pam. I really don’t think anyone has faced more heartbreak than I have. Oh, how unhappy I am! Why have I held back from truly living? Was this why I was so eager to get back home? Oh, it would have been so much better for me to live anywhere else in the world than to come back here and feel this miserable! We all know from our own struggles that every moment we spend before we realize what’s wrong is a moment gained.
Par. Still, as it is, you’ll the sooner know how to extricate yourself from these misfortunes. If you had not returned, this breach might have become much wider; but now, Pamphilus, I am sure that both will be awed by your presence. You will learn the facts, remove their enmity, restore them to good feeling once again. These are but trifles which you have persuaded yourself are so grievous.
Par. Still, as it is, you’ll know how to get yourself out of these troubles sooner. If you hadn't come back, this conflict could have grown much bigger; but now, Pamphilus, I'm sure that both will be impressed by your presence. You'll find out the truth, clear up their hostility, and bring back their good feelings. These are just small things that you've convinced yourself are so serious.
Pam. Why comfort me? Is there a person in all the world so wretched as I? Before I took her to wife, I had my heart engaged by other affections. Now, though on this subject I should be silent, it is easy for any one to know how much I have suffered; yet I never dared refuse her whom my father forced upon me. With difficulty did I withdraw myself from another, and disengage my affections so firmly rooted there! and hardly had I fixed them in another quarter, when, lo! a new misfortune has arisen, which 271 may tear me from her too. Then besides, I suppose that in this matter I shall find either my mother or my wife in fault; and when I find such to be the fact, what remains but to become still more wretched? For duty, Parmeno, bids me bear with the feelings of a mother; then, to my wife I am bound by obligations; with so much temper did she formerly bear my usage, and on no occasion disclose the many wrongs inflicted on her by me. But, Parmeno, something of consequence, I know not what it is, must have happened for this misunderstanding to have arisen between them, that has lasted so long.
Pam. Why comfort me? Is there anyone in the world more miserable than me? Before I married her, my heart was already committed to someone else. Now, even though I should remain silent about it, it's clear to anyone how much I've suffered; yet I never dared to refuse the woman my father forced upon me. It was difficult enough to pull myself away from another person and untangle my feelings that were so deeply rooted! And just when I managed to redirect those feelings to someone else, here comes another misfortune that might take me away from her too. On top of that, I bet I’ll either find my mother or my wife at fault in this situation; and when I discover that, what’s left for me but to become even more miserable? Duty, Parmeno, compels me to understand my mother’s feelings; then, I have obligations to my wife as well; she put up with my behavior for so long without ever revealing the many wrongs I did to her. But, Parmeno, something significant—I don’t know what it is—must have happened for this misunderstanding between them to drag on for so long.
Par. Or else something frivolous, i’faith, if you would only give words their proper value; those which are sometimes the greatest enmities, do not argue the greatest injuries; for it often happens that in certain circumstances, in which another would not even be out of temper, for the very same reason a passionate man becomes your greatest enemy. What enmities do children entertain among themselves for trifling injuries! For what reason? Why, because they have a weak understanding to direct them. Just so are these women, almost like children with their fickle feelings; perhaps a single word has occasioned this enmity between them, master.
Par. Or else something trivial, honestly, if you would just value words properly; those that sometimes cause the biggest conflicts don't necessarily indicate the greatest hurt; because it often happens that in certain situations, where someone else wouldn't even get upset, a passionate person can become your greatest adversary for the same reason. What rivalries do children have over minor slights! Why is that? Because they have a limited understanding to guide them. These women are very much like children with their unpredictable emotions; perhaps just a single word has sparked this feud between them, master.
Pam. Go, Parmeno, into the house, and carry word35 that I have arrived.
Pam. Go, Parmeno, into the house and let them know that I've arrived.
A noise is heard in the house of Phidippus.
A noise is heard in Phidippus's house.
Par. (starting.) Ha! What means this?
Par. (starting.) Ha! What does this mean?
Pam. Be silent. I perceive a bustling about, and a running to and fro.
Pam. Quiet down. I notice a lot of activity and movement everywhere.
Par. (going to the door.) Come then, I’ll approach nearer to the door. (He listens.) Ha! did you hear?
Par. (going to the door.) Alright then, I’ll get closer to the door. (He listens.) Ha! Did you hear that?
Pam. Don’t be prating. (He listens.) O Jupiter, I heard a shriek!
Pam. Stop talking nonsense. (He listens.) Oh my gosh, I heard a scream!
Par. You yourself are talking, while you forbid me.
Par. You're the one talking, yet you're telling me to stop.
Myr. (within the house.) Prithee, my child, do be silent.
Myrrh. (within the house.) Please, my child, be quiet.
Pam. That seems to be the voice of Philumena’s mother. I’m undone!
Pam. That sounds like Philumena’s mom. I can’t handle this!
Par. Why so?
Par. Why's that?
Pam. Utterly ruined!
Pam. Totally wrecked!
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Par. For what reason?
Par. Why?
Pam. Parmeno, you are concealing from me some great misfortune to me unknown.
Pam. Parmeno, you're hiding some serious bad news from me that I don't know about.
Par. They said that your wife, Philumena, was in alarm about36 something, I know not what; whether that may be it, perchance, I don’t know.
Par. They mentioned that your wife, Philumena, was worried about 36 something, but I have no idea what; could that be it, maybe? I have no clue.
Pam. I am undone! Why didn’t you tell me of this?
Pam. I'm so upset! Why didn't you tell me about this?
Par. Because I couldn’t tell every thing at once.
Par. Because I couldn’t say everything at once.
Pam. What is the malady?
Pam. What’s the issue?
Par. I don’t know.
I have no idea.
Pam. What! has no one brought a physician to see her?
Pam. What! Has no one brought a doctor to see her?
Par. I don’t know.
I don't know.
Pam. Why delay going in-doors, that I may know as soon as possible for certain what it is? In what condition, Philumena, am I now to find you? But if you are in any peril, beyond a doubt I will perish with you.
Pam. Why wait to go inside so that I can find out what's going on? What state, Philumena, will I find you in now? But if you are in any danger, I will definitely suffer alongside you.
Goes into the house of Phidippus.
Enters the house of Phidippus.
Scene II.
Parmeno alone.
Parmeno solo.
Par. (to himself.) There is no need for me to follow him into the house at present, for I see that we are all disagreeable to them. Yesterday, no one would give Sostrata admittance. If, perchance, the malady should become worse, which really I could far from wish, for my master’s sake especially, they would at once say that Sostrata’s servant had been in there; they would invent a story that I had brought some mischief against their lives and persons, in consequence of which the malady had been increased. My mistress would be blamed, and I should incur heavy punishment.37
Par. (to himself.) There's no reason for me to go into the house right now, since I can tell we're all unwelcome. Yesterday, no one would let Sostrata in. If for some reason the illness gets worse, which I really wouldn’t want, especially for my master's sake, they'd immediately say that Sostrata's servant had been inside; they would come up with some story that I brought harm to their lives and well-being, causing the illness to worsen. My mistress would take the blame, and I would face severe punishment. 37
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Scene III.
Enter Sostrata.
Enter Sostrata.
Sos. (to herself.) In dreadful alarm, I have for some time heard, I know not what confusion going on here; I’m sadly afraid Philumena’s illness is getting worse. Æsculapius, I do entreat thee, and thee, Health,38 that it may not be so. Now I’ll go visit her. (Approaches the door.)
Help. (to herself.) I’ve been hearing some really worrying noises for a while now, and I’m really scared that Philumena’s condition is getting worse. Æsculapius, I beg you, and you too, Health, 38 please let it not be true. I’m going to go see her now. (Approaches the door.)
Par. (coming forward.) Hark you, Sostrata.
Par. (coming forward.) Hey, Sostrata.
Sos. (turning round.) Well.
Got it.
Par. You will again be shut out there.
Par. You'll be locked out again over there.
Sos. What, Parmeno, is it you? I’m undone! wretch that I am, what shall I do? Am I not to go see the wife of Pamphilus, when she is ill here next door?
SOS. What’s going on, Parmeno, is that you? I’m lost! What a fool I am, what should I do? Am I not supposed to visit Pamphilus’s wife when she’s not well right next door?
Par. Not go see her! Don’t even send any person for the purpose of seeing her; for I’m of opinion that he who loves a person to whom he is an object of dislike, commits a double mistake: he himself takes a useless trouble, and causes annoyance to the other. Besides, your son went in to see how she is, as soon as he arrived.
Par. Don't go see her! Don't even send anyone to see her; because I believe that loving someone who dislikes you is a double mistake: you put yourself through unnecessary trouble and annoy the other person. Plus, your son went to check on her as soon as he got here.
Sos. What is it you say? Has Pamphilus arrived?
SOS. What are you saying? Has Pamphilus shown up?
Par. He has.
Par. He does.
Sos. I give thanks unto the Gods! Well, through that news my spirits are revived, and anxiety has departed from my heart.
SOS. I thank the Gods! Well, that news has lifted my spirits, and my anxiety has disappeared.
Par. For this reason, then, I am especially unwilling you should go in there; for if Philumena’s malady at all abates, she will, I am sure, when they are by themselves, at once tell him all the circumstances; both what misunderstandings have arisen between you, and how the difference first began. But see, he’s coming out—how sad he looks!
Par. For this reason, I really don't want you to go in there; if Philumena's condition improves even a little, I’m sure she’ll immediately tell him everything when they're alone—everything about the misunderstandings between you and how the issues started in the first place. But look, he’s coming out—he looks so sad!
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Scene IV.
Re-enter Pamphilus, from the house of Phidippus.
Re-enter Pamphilus from the house of Phidippus.
Sos. (running up to him.) O my son! (Embraces him.)
SOS. (running up to him.) Oh my son! (Embraces him.)
Pam. My mother, blessings on you.
Pam. Thanks, Mom.
Sos. I rejoice that you are returned safe. Is Philumena in a fair way?
SOS. I'm glad you're back safe. Is Philumena doing well?
Pam. She is a little better. (Weeping.)
Pam. She's feeling a bit better. (Crying.)
Sos. Would that the Gods may grant it so! Why, then, do you weep, or why so dejected?
Help. I wish the Gods would make it happen! So, why are you crying, or why do you look so down?
Pam. All’s well, mother.
Pam. Everything's good, mom.
Sos. What meant that confusion? Tell me; was she suddenly taken ill?
SOS. What caused that confusion? Tell me; did she suddenly get sick?
Pam. Such was the fact.
Pam. That's just the way it is.
Sos. What is her malady?
Sos. What is her illness?
Pam. A fever.
Pam. A high fever.
Sos. An intermitting one?39
Sos. An intermittent one? __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Pam. So they say. Go in the house, please, mother; I’ll follow you immediately.
Pam. So I've heard. Please, go inside the house, Mom; I'll be right behind you.
Sos. Very well.
Sos. Alright.
Goes into her house.
Enters her house.
Pam. Do you run and meet the servants, Parmeno, and help them with the baggage.
Pam. Go meet the servants, Parmeno, and help them with the luggage.
Par. Why, don’t they know the way themselves to come to our house?
Par. Why don’t they know how to get to our house by themselves?
Pam. (stamping.) Do you loiter?
Pam. (stamping.) Do you hang around?
Exit Parmeno.
Exit Parmeno.
Scene V.
Pamphilus, alone.
Pamphilus, by himself.
Pam. I can not discover any fitting commencement of my troubles, at which to begin to narrate the things that have so unexpectedly befallen me, some of which with these eyes I have beheld; some I have heard with my ears; and on account of which I so hastily betook myself, in extreme agitation, out of doors. For just now, when, full of alarm, I rushed into the house, expecting to find my wife afflicted with some other malady than what I have found it to be;—ah me! immediately the servant-maids beheld that I had 275 arrived, they all at the same moment joyfully exclaimed, “He is come,” from having so suddenly caught sight of me. But I soon perceived the countenances of all of them change,40 because at so unseasonable a juncture chance had brought me there. One of them in the mean time hastily ran before me to give notice that I had come. Impatient to see my wife, I followed close. When I entered the room, that instant, to my sorrow, I found out her malady; for neither did the time afford any interval to enable her to conceal it, nor could she complain in any other accents than those which the case itself prompted. When I perceived this: “O disgraceful conduct!” I exclaimed, and instantly hurried away from the spot in tears, overwhelmed by such an incredible and shocking circumstance. Her mother followed me; just as I got to the threshold, she threw herself on her knees: I felt compassion for her. Assuredly it is the fact, in my opinion, just as matters befall us all, so are we elated or depressed. At once she began to address me in these words: “O my dear Pamphilus, you see the reason why she left your house; for violence was offered to her when formerly a maid, by some villain to us unknown. Now, she took refuge here then, that from you and others she might conceal her labor.” But when I call to mind her entreaties, I can not, wretched as I am, refrain from tears. “Whatever chance or fortune it is,” said she, “which has brought you here to-day, by it we do both conjure you, if with equity and justice we may, that her misfortune may be concealed by you, and kept a secret from all. If ever you were sensible, my dear Pamphilus, that she was tenderly disposed toward you, she now asks you to grant her this favor in return, without making any difficulty of it. But as to taking her back, act quite according to your own convenience. You alone are aware of her lying-in, and that the child is none of yours. For it is said that it was two months after the marriage before she had commerce with you. And then, this is but the seventh month since she came to you.41 That you are sensible of this, the circumstances themselves prove. Now, if it is possible, Pamphilus, 276 I especially wish, and will use my endeavors, that her labor may remain unknown to her father, and to all, in fact. But if that can not be managed, and they do find it out, I will say that she miscarried; I am sure no one will suspect otherwise than, what is so likely, the child was by you. It shall be instantly exposed; in that case there is no inconvenience whatever to yourself, and you will be concealing an outrage so undeservingly committed upon her,42 poor thing!” I promised this, and I am resolved to keep faith in what I said. But as to taking her back, really I do not think that would be at all creditable, nor will I do so, although love for her, and habit, have a strong influence upon me. I weep when it occurs to my mind, what must be her life, and how great her loneliness in future. O Fortune, thou hast never been found constant! But by this time my former passion has taught me experience in the present case. The means by which I got rid of that, I must employ on the present occasion. Parmeno is coming with the servants; it is far from convenient that he should be here under present circumstances, for he was the only person to whom I trusted the secret that I kept aloof from her when I first married her. I am afraid lest, if he should frequently hear her cries, he might find out that she is in labor. He must be dispatched by me somewhere till Philumena is delivered.
Pam. I can't figure out where to start when talking about the troubles that have suddenly come my way, some of which I've seen with my own eyes, and some I've only heard about; and it’s because of this that I rushed outside in a panic. Just now, when I dashed into the house, worried I’d find my wife struggling with another issue, I was shocked to discover something else entirely;—oh, dear! As soon as the maids saw me arrive, they all joyfully shouted, “He’s here,” because they spotted me so suddenly. But I quickly noticed their expressions change, 40 since it was such an inappropriate time for me to show up. One of them hurried ahead to let everyone know I was there. Eager to see my wife, I followed closely. When I entered the room, to my dismay, I instantly realized what was wrong with her; there was no time for her to hide it, and she could only voice her distress in the way the situation demanded. When I saw this, I exclaimed, “Oh, how shameful!” and immediately rushed away, tears streaming down my face, overcome by such an unbelievable and shocking situation. Her mother followed me, and just as I reached the door, she threw herself at my feet: I felt pity for her. Truly, it seems to me that just like everyone else, we are either uplifted or brought down by what happens to us. She started speaking to me, saying, “Oh my dear Pamphilus, now you see why she left your home; she was attacked as a maid by an unknown villain. She sought refuge here to hide her condition from you and others.” But remembering her pleas makes me, wretched as I am, unable to hold back my tears. “Whatever twist of fate has brought you here today,” she said, “we both urge you, if it’s within your sense of fairness and justice, to keep her misfortune hidden from everyone. If you ever realized that she had deep feelings for you, she’s now asking for this favor in return, without any fuss. But about taking her back, do what you think is best for you. Only you know about her giving birth and that the child isn’t yours. They say that it was two months after the wedding before she was intimate with you. And this is just the seventh month since she joined you.41 The circumstances clearly show that you understand this. If possible, Pamphilus, I truly wish, and I will do my best, to keep her labor a secret from her father and everyone else. But if that turns out to be impossible and they find out, I’ll just say she had a miscarriage; no one would suspect otherwise since it’s likely the child is yours. The child can be taken away immediately; in that case, you won’t face any trouble, and you will be hiding an undeserved outrage against her, 42 poor thing!” I promised this, and I’m determined to keep my word. But as for taking her back, I really don’t think that would be right, nor will I do so, even though love for her and habit have a strong hold on me. I cry when I think about how difficult her life will be and how great her loneliness will become. O Fortune, you have never been reliable! But by now, my past love has taught me what to expect in this situation. The way I moved on from that, I must apply to this current situation. Parmeno is on his way with the servants; it’s really not a good time for him to be here since he was the only one I trusted with the secret that I kept from her when I first married her. I’m worried that if he hears her cries too often, he might discover that she’s in labor. I need to send him away somewhere until Philumena has given birth.
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Scene VI.
Enter at a distance Parmeno and Sosia, with people carrying baggage.
Enter at a distance Parmeno and Sosia, along with people carrying luggage.
Par. (to Sosia.) Do you say that this voyage was disagreeable to you?
Par. (to Sosia.) Are you saying that this trip was unpleasant for you?
Sosia. Upon my faith, Parmeno, it can not be so much as expressed in words, how disagreeable it is to go on a voyage.
Sosia. Honestly, Parmeno, I can't even begin to describe how unpleasant it is to go on a trip.
Par. Do you say so?
Do you really think so?
Sosia. O lucky man! You don’t know what evils you have escaped, by never having been at sea. For to say nothing of other hardships, mark this one only; thirty days or more43 was I on board that ship, and every moment, to my horror, was in continual expectation of death: such unfavorable weather did we always meet with.
Sosia. Oh, lucky you! You have no idea what dangers you’ve avoided by never going to sea. Forget all the other challenges; just think about this one: I spent more than thirty days43 on that ship, and every moment, I was terrified and expecting to die because of the awful weather we always faced.
Par. How annoying!
Ugh, how annoying!
Sosia. That’s not unknown to me: in fine, upon my faith, I would rather run away than go back, if I knew that I should have to go back there.
Sosia. That’s not unfamiliar to me: honestly, I would prefer to run away than return if I knew I had to go back there.
Par. Why really, but slight causes formerly made you, Sosia, do what now you are threatening to do. But I see Pamphilus himself standing before the door. (To the Attendants, who go into the house of Laches.) Go in-doors; I’ll accost him, to see if he wants any thing with me. (Accosts Pamphilus.) What, still standing here, master?
Par. Honestly, it was just small things that made you, Sosia, act the way you're threatening to now. But I see Pamphilus himself standing by the door. (To the Attendants, who head into Laches' house.) Go inside; I’ll talk to him to see if he needs anything from me. (Approaches Pamphilus.) What, still hanging around here, master?
Pam. Yes, and waiting for you.
Pam. Yes, I'm waiting for you.
Par. What’s the matter?
Par. What's wrong?
Par. Who must?
Who has to?
Pam. You.
Pam. You.
Par. To the citadel? Why thither?
Par. To the fortress? Why there?
Pam. To meet Callidemides, my entertainer at Myconos, who came over in the same ship with me.
Pam. To meet Callidemides, my entertainer from Myconos, who traveled on the same ship as me.
Par. (aside.) Confusion! I should say he has made a vow 278 that if ever he should return home safe, he would rupture me45 with walking.
Par. (aside.) What a mess! I should say he has promised that if he ever makes it back home safely, he will break me45 with all his walking. 278
Pam. Why are you lingering?
Pam. Why are you hanging around?
Par. What do you wish me to say? Or am I to meet him only?
Par. What do you want me to say? Or should I just meet him?
Pam. No; say that I can not meet him to-day, as I appointed, so that he may not wait for me to no purpose. Fly!
Pam. No; tell him I can't meet him today like we planned, so he doesn't wait for me for no reason. Go!
Par. But I don’t know the man’s appearance.
Par. But I don’t know what the guy looks like.
Pam. Then I’ll tell you how to know it; a huge fellow, ruddy, with curly hair, fat, with gray eyes and freckled countenance.
Pam. Then I’ll tell you how to recognize him; a big guy, with a ruddy complexion, curly hair, chubby, with gray eyes and a freckled face.
Par. May the Gods confound him! What if he shouldn’t come? Am I to wait there, even till the evening?
Par. May the gods mess him up! What if he doesn't show up? Am I supposed to wait there, even until the evening?
Pam. Yes, wait there. Run!
Pam. Yes, wait there. Go!
Par. I can’t; I am so tired.
I can't; I'm so exhausted.
Exit slowly.
Exit slowly.
Scene VII.
Pamphilus, alone.
Pamphilus, by himself.
Pam. He’s off. What shall I do in this distressed situation? Really, I don’t know in what way I’m to conceal this, as Myrrhina entreated me, her daughter’s lying-in; but I do pity the woman. What I can, I’ll do; only so long, however, as I observe my duty; for it is proper that I should be regardful of a parent,46 rather than of my passion. But look—I see Phidippus and my father. They are coming this way; what to say to them, I’m at a loss.
Pam. He’s gone. What should I do in this tough situation? Honestly, I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide this, as Myrrhina asked me to, about her daughter giving birth; but I do feel for her. I’ll do what I can; only for as long as it’s in line with my responsibilities; it’s important for me to think of a parent, 46 rather than my own desires. But wait—I see Phidippus and my dad. They’re coming this way; I’m not sure what to say to them.
Stands apart.
Stands out.
Scene VIII.
Enter, at a distance, Laches and Phidippus.
Enter, from a distance, Laches and Phidippus.
Lach. Did you not say, just now, that she was waiting for my son’s return?
Lmao. Didn't you just say that she was waiting for my son to come back?
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Phid. Just so.
Phid. Exactly.
Lach. They say that he has arrived; let her return.
Lmao. They say he’s here; let her come back.
Pam. (apart to himself, aloud.) What excuse to make to my father for not taking her back, I don’t know!
Pam. (aside to himself, loudly.) I have no idea what excuse to give my dad for not bringing her back!
Lach. (turning round.) Who was it I heard speaking here?
Lmao. (turning around.) Who was I just hearing talking here?
Pam. (apart.) I am resolved to persevere in the course I determined to pursue.
Pam. (aside.) I am determined to stick with the path I've chosen.
Lach. ’Tis the very person about whom I was talking to you.
Lmao. This is the exact person I was telling you about.
Pam. Health to you, my father.
Pam. Cheers to you, Dad.
Lach. Health to you, my son.
Health to you, my son.
Phid. I am glad that you have returned, Pamphilus, and the more especially so, as you are safe and well.
Philly. I'm glad you're back, Pamphilus, especially that you're safe and sound.
Pam. I believe you.
Pam. I trust you.
Lach. Have you but just arrived?
Lach. Have you just arrived?
Pam. Only just now.
Pam. Just now.
Lach. Tell me, what has our cousin Phania left us?
Lmao. Tell me, what did our cousin Phania leave us?
Pam. Why really, i’faith, he was a man very much devoted to pleasure while he lived; and those who are so, don’t much benefit their heirs, but for themselves leave this commendation: While he lived, he lived well.47
Pam. Honestly, he was a guy who really loved to enjoy life while he was around; and people like that don’t do much for their heirs, but they leave behind this praise: While he was alive, he lived well.47
Lach. So then, you have brought home nothing more48 than a single sentiment?
Laugh. So then, you’ve brought home nothing more than just a single feeling?
Pam. Whatever he has left, we are the gainers by it.
Pam. Whatever he has left, we benefit from it.
Lach. Why no, it has proved a loss; for I could have wished him alive and well.
LMAO. No, it’s been a loss; I really wish he were alive and doing well.
Phid. You may wish that with impunity; he’ll never come to life again; and after all I know which of the two you would prefer.
Phid You might wish for that without any consequences; he’ll never come back to life; and honestly, I know which of the two options you'd choose.
Lach. Yesterday, he (pointing to Phidippus) desired Philumena to be fetched to his house. (Whispers to Phidippus, nudging him with his elbow.) Say that you desired it.
Lmao. Yesterday, he (pointing to Phidippus) asked for Philumena to be brought to his house. (Whispers to Phiddipus, nudging him with his elbow.) Just say that you asked for it.
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Phid. (aside to Laches.) Don’t punch me so. (To Pamphilus.) I desired it.
Phid (aside to Laches.) Don’t hit me like that. (To Pamphilus.) I wanted it.
Lach. But he’ll now send her home again.
Lmao. But he’ll send her back home now.
Phid. Of course.
Phid. Definitely.
Pam. I know the whole affair, and how it happened; I heard it just now, on my arrival.
Pam. I know all about the situation and how it went down; I just heard it when I arrived.
Lach. Then may the Gods confound those spiteful people who told this news with such readiness!
Lmao. May the Gods trip up those nasty people who spread this news so eagerly!
Pam. (to Phidippus.) I am sure that it has been my study, that with reason no slight might possibly be committed by your family; and if I were now truthful to mention of how faithful, loving, and tender a disposition I have proved toward her, I could do so truly, did I not rather wish that you should learn it of herself; for by that method you will be the more ready to place confidence in my disposition when she, who is now acting unjustly toward me, speaks favorably of me. And that through no fault of mine this separation has taken place, I call the Gods to witness. But since she considers that it is not befitting her to give way to my mother, and with readiness to conform to her temper, and as on no other terms it is possible for good feeling to exist between them, either my mother must be separated, Phidippus, from me, or else Philumena. Now affection urges me rather to consult my mother’s pleasure.
Pam. (to Phidippus.) I’m sure that my efforts have shown that nothing wrong could come from your family; and if I were to honestly share how faithful, loving, and caring I’ve been towards her, I could do so genuinely, but I’d rather you hear it from her. That way, you’ll trust my feelings more when she, who’s treating me unfairly now, speaks positively about me. I swear to the Gods that this separation isn’t my fault. But since she believes it’s inappropriate to give in to my mother and can’t adjust to her attitude, and since it’s impossible for them to get along otherwise, either my mother has to be separated from me, Phidippus, or Philumena has to go. Now, my feelings lead me to prioritize my mother’s happiness.
Lach. Pamphilus, your words have reached my ears not otherwise than to my satisfaction, since I find that you postpone all considerations for your parent. But take care, Pamphilus, lest impelled by resentment, you carry matters too far.
LMAO. Pamphilus, I've heard what you've said, and I find it satisfying because it seems like you’re ignoring everything about your parent. But be careful, Pamphilus, so that your anger doesn’t push you to go too far.
Pam. How, impelled by resentment, could I now be biased against her who never has been guilty of any thing toward me, father, that I could not wish, and who has often deserved as well as I could desire? I both love and praise and exceedingly regret her, for I have found by experience that she was of a wondrously engaging disposition with regard to myself; and I sincerely wish that she may spend the remainder of her life with a husband who may prove more fortunate than me, since necessity thus tears her from me.
Pam. How, driven by resentment, can I now hold a grudge against someone who has never done anything wrong to me, father, that I wouldn't want, and who has often deserved as much as I could hope for? I both love and admire her and deeply regret losing her, because I've discovered through experience that she had an incredibly charming personality towards me; and I genuinely hope she spends the rest of her life with a husband who turns out to be more fortunate than I am, since necessity thus separates her from me.
Phid. ’Tis in your own power to prevent that.
Phid It's in your control to stop that.
Lach. If you are in your senses, order her to come back.
Lmao. If you're thinking clearly, tell her to come back.
Pam. It is not my intention, father; I shall study my mother’s interests.
Pam. I'm not trying to upset you, Dad; I'm going to focus on what matters to my mom.
Going away.
Leaving.
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Lach. Whither are you going? Stay, stay, I tell you; whither are you going?
LMAO. Where are you going? Wait, wait, I’m telling you; where are you going?
Exit Pamphilus.
Exit Pamphilus.
Scene IX.
Laches and Phidippus.
Laches and Phidippus.
Phid. What obstinacy is this?
Phid. What stubbornness is this?
Lach. Did I not tell you, Phidippus, that he would take this matter amiss? It was for that reason I entreated you to send your daughter back.
LMAO. Didn't I tell you, Phidippus, that he would be upset about this? That’s why I urged you to send your daughter back.
Phid. Upon my faith, I did not believe he would be so brutish; does he now fancy that I shall come begging to him? If so it is that he chooses to take back his wife, why, let him; if he is of another mind, let him pay back her portion,49 and take himself off.
Phid Honestly, I didn’t think he would be so unreasonable; does he really think I’ll come begging to him? If he wants to take back his wife, fine; if he feels differently, he should return her dowry, 49 and leave.
Lach. Just look at that, now; you too are getting obstinate and huffish.
Lmao. Just look at that now; you’re getting stubborn and irritable too.
Phid. (speaking with anger.) You have returned to us in a very ungovernable mood, Pamphilus.
Phid (speaking with anger.) You’ve come back to us in a really uncontrollable mood, Pamphilus.
Lach. This anger will depart; although he has some reason for being vexed.
LMAO. This anger will fade; even though he has some reason to be upset.
Phid. Because you have had a windfall, a little money, your minds are elevated.
Philosopher. Now that you've come into some unexpected money, you're feeling pretty high and mighty.
Lach. Are you going to fall out with me, too?
Lmao. Are you going to have a falling out with me, too?
Phid. Let him consider, and bring me word to-day, whether he will or will not, that she may belong to another if she does not to him.
Phid Let him think it over and let me know today whether he will take her or not, so that she can be with someone else if she’s not with him.
Goes hastily into his own house.
Goes quickly into his own house.
Lach. Phidippus, stay; listen to a few words—
Lmao. Phidippus, hold on; hear me out for a moment—
Scene X.
Laches, alone.
Laches, by himself.
Lach. He’s off; what matters it to me? In fine, let them manage it between themselves, just as they please; since neither my son nor he pay any regard to me; they care but little for what I say. I’ll carry the quarrel to my wife, by whose planning all these things have been brought about, and against her I will vent all the vexation that I feel.
Laugh. He’s gone; why should I care? Honestly, let them sort it out however they want; neither my son nor he listens to me anyway; they hardly care about what I say. I’ll take my frustrations to my wife, since all this mess is really her doing, and I’ll unleash all my annoyance on her.
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ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Enter Myrrhina, from her house.
Enter Myrrhina, from her home.
Myr. I am undone! What am I to do? which way turn myself? In my wretchedness, what answer am I to give to my husband? For he seems to have heard the voice of the child when crying, so suddenly did he rush in to my daughter without saying a word. What if he comes to know that she has been delivered? for what reason I am to say I kept it concealed, upon my faith I do not know. But there’s a noise at the door; I believe it is himself coming out to me: I’m utterly undone!
Myr. I’m finished! What am I supposed to do? Which way should I turn? In my misery, what can I say to my husband? It seems he heard the baby cry because he rushed into my daughter’s room without a word. What if he finds out she gave birth? I honestly don’t know why I kept it a secret. But there's a noise at the door; I think it's him coming to me: I’m completely lost!
Scene II.
Enter Phidippus, from the house.
Enter Phidippus, from the house.
Phid. (to himself.) My wife, when she saw me going to my daughter, betook herself out of the house: and look, there she is. (Addressing her.) What have you to say, Myrrhina? Hark you! to you I speak.
Phid (to himself.) My wife, when she saw me heading to my daughter, left the house: and look, there she is. (Addressing her.) What do you have to say, Myrrhina? Hey! I'm talking to you.
Myr. What, to me, my husband?
Myr. What does my husband mean to me?
Phid. Am I your husband? Do you consider me a husband, or a man, in fact? For, woman, if I had ever appeared to you to be either of these, I should not in this way have been held in derision by your doings.
Phid Am I your husband? Do you see me as a husband or even a man? Because, woman, if I had ever seemed like either to you, I wouldn't be treated this way by your actions.
Myr. By what doings?
Myr. By what actions?
Phid. Do you ask the question? Is not your daughter brought to bed? Eh, are you silent? By whom?
Phid Are you asking the question? Isn't your daughter in labor? Huh, are you quiet? By whom?
Myr. Is it proper for a father to be asking such a question? Oh, shocking! By whom do you think, pray, except by him to whom she was given in marriage?
Myr. Is it right for a father to ask such a question? Oh, unbelievable! Who do you think should, other than the man she was married to?
Phid. I believe it; nor indeed is it for a father to think otherwise. But I wonder much what the reason can be for which you so very much wish all of us to be in ignorance of the truth, especially when she has been delivered properly, and at the right time.50 That you should be of a mind so perverse 283 as to prefer that the child should perish, through which you might be sure that hereafter there would be a friendship more lasting between us, rather than that, at the expense of your feelings, his wife should continue with him! I supposed this to be their fault, while in reality it lies with you.
Phid I believe it; and honestly, a father shouldn’t think any differently. But I really wonder what your reasoning is for wanting us all to be kept in the dark about the truth, especially since she was delivered safely and on time.50 It’s perplexing that you’d prefer the child to suffer, thinking it would ensure a stronger friendship between us in the future, instead of allowing his wife to stay with him at the cost of your feelings! I thought this was their fault, but really, it’s on you.
Myr. I am an unhappy creature!
Myr. I'm an unhappy being!
Phid. I wish I were sure that so it was; but now it recurs to my mind what you once said about this matter, when we accepted him as our son-in-law. For you declared that you could not endure your daughter to be married to a person who was attached to a courtesan, and who spent his nights away from home.
Phidias. I wish I could be certain that's the case; but it just reminded me of what you once said about this when we accepted him as our son-in-law. You said you couldn't stand the thought of your daughter marrying someone who was involved with a courtesan and who spent his nights away from home.
Myr. (aside.) Any cause whatever I had rather he should suspect than the right one.
Myr. (aside.) I’d prefer he suspect anything else rather than the actual reason.
Phid. I knew much sooner than you did, Myrrhina, that he kept a mistress; but this I never considered a crime in young men; for it is natural to them all. For, i’ faith, the time will soon come when even he will be disgusted with himself for doing so. But just as you formerly showed yourself, you have never ceased to be the same up to the present time; in order that you might withdraw your daughter from him, and that what I did might not hold good, one thing itself now plainly proves how far you wished it carried out.
Phid I knew long before you did, Myrrhina, that he had a mistress; but I never saw that as a crime in young men because it's normal for them. Honestly, the day will come when even he will feel ashamed of himself for it. But just like you showed yourself before, you’ve never really changed. You've been trying to separate your daughter from him all along, and one thing clearly shows how far you wanted to take that.
Myr. Do you suppose that I am so willful that I could have entertained such feelings toward one whose mother I am, if this match had been to our advantage?
Myrtle. Do you really think I’m so stubborn that I could have had those feelings for someone whose mother I am, if this relationship had been beneficial for us?
Phid. Can you possibly foresee or judge what is to our advantage? You have heard it of some one, perhaps, who has told you that he has seen him coming from or going to his mistress. What then? If he has done so with discretion, and but occasionally, is it not more kind in us to conceal our knowledge of it, than to do our best to be aware of it, in consequence of which he will detest us? For if he could all at once have withdrawn himself from her with whom he had been intimate for so many years, I should not have deemed him a man, or likely to prove a constant husband for our daughter.
Phid Can you really predict or determine what’s best for us? Maybe you’ve heard from someone that he saw him coming from or going to his girlfriend. So what? If he did it wisely and only now and then, isn’t it kinder for us to hide what we know rather than trying to be aware of it, which would just make him resent us? Because if he could suddenly distance himself from someone he’s been close with for so many years, I wouldn’t consider him a real man or a reliable husband for our daughter.
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Myr. Do have done about the young man, I pray; and what you say I’ve been guilty of. Go away, meet him by yourself; ask him whether he wishes to have her as a wife or not; if so it is that he should say he does wish it, why, send her back; but if on the other hand he does not wish it, I have taken the best course for my child.
Myrtle. Please take care of the young man for me, and let me know if I’m really to blame. Go ahead, meet him on your own; ask him if he wants to marry her or not. If he says he does, then send her back; but if he doesn’t want her, I’ve made the best decision for my child.
Phid. And suppose he does not wish it, and you, Myrrhina, knew him to be in fault; still I was at hand, by whose advice it was proper for these matters to be settled; therefore I am greatly offended that you have presumed to act thus without my leave. I forbid you to attempt to carry the child any where out of this house. But I am very foolish to be expecting her to obey my orders. I’ll go in-doors, and charge the servants to allow it to be carried out nowhere.
Phid And what if he doesn’t want that, and you, Myrrhina, know he’s in the wrong; even so, I was here, and it was my advice that these matters should be handled this way; so I’m really upset that you thought you could do this without my permission. I forbid you to take the child anywhere outside this house. But I’m being foolish to expect her to follow my orders. I’ll go inside and tell the servants to make sure she isn’t taken anywhere.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Scene III.
Myrrhina, alone.
Myrrhina, by herself.
Myr. Upon my faith, I do believe that there is no woman living more wretched than I; for how he would take it, if he came to know the real state of the case, i’ faith, is not unknown to me, when he bears this, which is of less consequence, with such angry feelings; and I know not in what way his sentiments can possibly be changed. Out of very many misfortunes, this one evil alone had been wanting to me, for him to compel me to rear a child of whom we know not who is the father; for when my daughter was ravished, it was so dark that his person could not be distinguished, nor was any thing taken from him on the occasion by which it could be afterward discovered who he was. He, on leaving her, took away from the girl, by force, a ring which51 she had upon her finger. I am afraid, too, of Pamphilus, that he may be unable any longer to conceal what I have requested, when he learns that the child of another is being brought up as his.
Myr. Honestly, I really believe there’s no woman alive who’s more miserable than I am; I can't even imagine how he would react if he found out the truth of the situation, especially since he gets so angry over this less significant matter. I have no idea how he could possibly change his feelings. Out of all my troubles, this one issue is the last thing I needed—having him force me to raise a child whose father we don’t even know. When my daughter was assaulted, it was so dark that we couldn’t see the attacker, and nothing was taken from him that could help us identify him later. After he left her, he violently took a ring from her finger. I’m also worried about Pamphilus; I fear he won’t be able to keep my request a secret when he finds out that another man’s child is being raised as his own.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
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Scene IV.
Enter Sostrata and Pamphilus.
Enter Sostrata and Pamphilus.
Sos. It is not unknown to me, my son, that I am suspected by you as the cause of your wife having left our house in consequence of my conduct; although you carefully conceal your knowledge of it. But so may the Gods prosper me, and so may you answer all my hopes, I have never knowingly deserved that hatred of me should with reason possess her; and while I thought before that you loved me, on that point you have confirmed my belief: for in-doors your father has just now related to me in what way you have preferred me to your passion. Now it is my determination to return you the favor, that you may understand that with me lies the reward of your affection. My Pamphilus, I think that this is expedient both for yourselves and my own reputation. I have finally resolved to retire hence into the country with your father, that my presence may not be an obstacle, and that no pretense may remain why your Philumena should not return to you.
SOS. I'm aware, my son, that you suspect me of being the reason your wife left our home because of my actions, even though you try to hide it. But may the Gods help me, and may you fulfill all my hopes, I’ve never intentionally done anything to deserve her hatred. While I used to think you loved me, you've now confirmed that belief: your father just told me how you’ve chosen me over your feelings. So, I’ve decided to return the favor, so you know that your affection can be rewarded by me. My Pamphilus, I believe this is important for both you and my own reputation. I’ve finally decided to move to the country with your father so that my presence won’t be a problem, and there won’t be any excuse for your Philumena not to come back to you.
Pam. Pray, what sort of resolution is this? Driven away by her folly, would you be removing from the city to live in the country? You shall not do so; and I will not permit, mother, any one who may wish to censure us, to say that this has been done through my perverseness, and not your inclination. Besides, I do not wish you, for my sake, to forego your friends and relations, and festive days.52
Pam. Seriously, what kind of decision is this? You’re thinking about leaving the city for the countryside just because of your mistakes? You’re not doing that; I won’t allow anyone, including you, to blame me for this, instead of blaming your own choice. Plus, I don’t want you to give up your friends and family, or any celebrations, just for me.52
Sos. Upon my word, these things afford me no pleasure now. While my time of life permitted it, I enjoyed them enough; satiety of that mode of life has now taken possession of me: this is at present my chief concern, that the length of my life may prove an annoyance to no one, or that he may look forward with impatience to my death.53 Here I see that, without deserving it, I am disliked; it is time for me to retire. Thus, in the best way, I imagine, I shall cut short 286 all grounds of discontent with all; I shall both free myself from suspicion, and shall be pleasing them. Pray, let me avoid this reproach, which so generally attaches on women to their disadvantage.
SOS. Honestly, these things don’t bring me any joy anymore. When I was younger, I enjoyed them enough; now I've had my fill. Right now, my main worry is that my long life doesn’t become a burden to anyone, or that they don’t eagerly await my death. 53 I see that, for no good reason, I’m not liked; it’s time for me to step back. This way, I think I’ll eliminate all 286 reasons for discontent for everyone; I’ll free myself from suspicion and make them happy. Please, let me escape this criticism that so often unfairly falls on women.
Pam. (aside.) How happy am I in other respects, were it not for this one thing alone, in having such a good mother, and her for my wife!
Pam. (aside.) How happy I would be in other ways, if it weren't for this one issue, having such a great mom, and her as my wife!
Sos. Pray, my Pamphilus, can you not, seeing how each woman is, prevail upon yourself to put up with one matter of inconvenience? If every thing else is according to your wish, and such as I take it to be—my son, do grant me this indulgence, and take her back.
SOS. Please, my Pamphilus, can you not, seeing how each woman is, manage to tolerate one inconvenience? If everything else is as you want it, and as I believe it to be—my son, please grant me this favor, and take her back.
Pam. Alas! wretched me!
Pam. Alas! Poor me!
Sos. And me as well; for this affair does not cause me less sorrow than you, my son.
SOS. I feel the same way; this situation brings me just as much sadness as it does to you, my son.
Scene V.
Enter Laches.
Enter Laches.
Lach. While standing just by here, I have heard, wife, the conversation you have been holding with him. It is true wisdom to be enabled to govern the feelings whenever there is necessity; to do at the present moment what may perhaps, in the end, be necessary to be done.
Lmao. While standing right here, I’ve overheard your conversation with him, my wife. It's truly wise to manage your feelings whenever it's needed; to do what must be done at this moment, even if it turns out to be essential later on.
Sos. Good luck to it, i’troth.
Sos. Good luck with that, honestly.
Lach. Retire then into the country; there I will bear with you, and you with me.
LMAO. Let's go to the countryside; I’ll put up with you, and you’ll put up with me.
Sos. I hope so, i’faith.
Sos. I really hope so.
Lach. Go in-doors then, and get together the things that are to be taken with you. I have now said it.
Lmao. Go inside and gather the things you need to take with you. I’ve said it now.
Sos. I’ll do as you desire.
Sos. I'll do what you want.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
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Pam. Father!
Dad!
Lach. What do you want, Pamphilus?
Lach. What do you need, Pamphilus?
Pam. My mother go away? By no means.
Pam. Did my mom leave? Definitely not.
Lach. Why would you have it so?
Lach. Why would you do that?
Pam. Because I am as yet undetermined what I shall do about my wife.
Pam. Because I'm still undecided about what to do regarding my wife.
Lach. How is that? What should you intend to do but bring her home?
Lmao. How does that work? What else do you plan to do but take her home?
Pam. For my part, I could like, and can hardly forbear it; but I shall not alter my design; that which is most advantageous I shall pursue; I suppose (ironically) that they will be better reconciled, in consequence, if I shall take her back.
Pam. As for me, I could like her, and it's hard for me to resist, but I won’t change my plans; I’ll go after what’s best for me. I guess (ironically) they’ll be more at peace if I bring her back.
Lach. You can not tell. But it matters nothing to you which they do when she has gone away. Persons of this age are disliked by young people; it is right for us to withdraw from the world; in fine, we are now a nice by-word. We are, Pamphilus, “the old man and the old woman.”54 But I see Phidippus coming out just at the time; let’s accost him.
Laugh. You can’t tell. But it doesn’t matter to you what they do when she’s gone. People nowadays are disliked by young folks; it’s right for us to step back from the world; in short, we’ve become a nice joke. We are, Pamphilus, “the old man and the old woman.”54 But I see Phidippus coming out just now; let’s go talk to him.
Scene VI.
Enter Phidippus, from his house.
Enter Phidippus, from his home.
Phid. (speaking at the door to Philumena, within.) Upon my faith, I am angry with you too, Philumena, extremely so, for, on my word, you have acted badly; still there is an excuse for you in this matter; your mother forced you to it; but for her there is none.
Phid (speaking at the door to Philomena, inside.) Honestly, I’m really angry with you too, Philumena, very much so, because, seriously, you messed up; still, I can understand your situation; your mom forced you into it; but she has no excuse.
Lach. (accosting him.) Phidippus, you meet me at a lucky moment, just at the very time.
LMAO. (approaching him.) Phidippus, you’re here at just the right moment, exactly when I needed you.
Phid. What’s the matter?
Phid. What’s wrong?
Pam. (aside.) What answer shall I make them, or in what manner keep this secret?
Pam. (aside.) What should I say to them, or how can I keep this a secret?
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Lach. (to Phidippus.) Tell your daughter that Sostrata is going into the country, that she may not now be afraid of returning home.
Lmao. (to Phidippus.) Let your daughter know that Sostrata is heading out to the country, so she shouldn't be worried about coming home now.
Phid. Alas! your wife has been guilty of no fault in this affair; all this mischief has originated in my wife Myrrhina.
Phid Unfortunately, your wife hasn't done anything wrong in this situation; all this trouble has come from my wife Myrrhina.
Pam. (aside.) They are changing sides.
Pam. (aside.) They're switching sides.
Phid. ’Tis she that causes our disturbances, Laches.
Phid She's the one causing our troubles, Laches.
Pam. (aside.) So long as I don’t take her back, let her cause as much disturbance as she pleases.
Pam. (aside.) As long as I don’t take her back, she can create as much chaos as she wants.
Phid. I, Pamphilus, could really wish, if it were possible, this alliance between us to be lasting; but if you are otherwise inclined, still take the child.55
Phiddies. I, Pamphilus, really wish this partnership between us could last, but if you feel differently, still take the child.55
Pam. (aside.) He has discovered that she has been brought to bed. I’m undone!
Pam. (aside.) He found out that she’s given birth. I’m finished!
Lach. The child! What child?
Lach. The kid! What kid?
Phid. We have had a grandson born to us; for my daughter was removed from you in a state of pregnancy, and yet never before this day did I know that she was pregnant.
Phid We have a grandson; my daughter left you while she was pregnant, and I never knew she was expecting until today.
Lach. So may the Gods prosper me, you bring good tidings, and I am glad a child has been born, and that she is safe: but what kind of woman have you for a wife, or of what sort of a temper, that we should have been kept in ignorance of this so long? I can not sufficiently express how disgraceful this conduct appears to me.
Lmao. I swear, may the gods bless me, you bring good news, and I’m glad a child has been born and that she’s safe. But what kind of woman is your wife, or what’s her temperament, that we’ve been kept in the dark for so long? I can't express enough how disgraceful this behavior seems to me.
Phid. This conduct does not vex me less than yourself, Laches.
Phid This behavior frustrates me just as much as it does you, Laches.
Pam. (aside.) Even if it had just now been a matter of doubt to me, it is so no longer, since the child of another man is to accompany her.
Pam. (aside.) Even if I had any doubts before, I don't anymore, now that another man's child is going to be with her.
Lach. Pamphilus, there is no room now for deliberation for you in this matter.
Lmao. Pamphilus, there's no time left for you to think this over anymore.
Pam. (aside.) I’m undone!
Pam. (aside.) I’m overwhelmed!
Lach. (to Pamphilus.) We were often longing to see the day on which there should be one to call you father; it has come to pass. I return thanks to the Gods.
Lmao. (to Pamphilus.) We often wished for the day when someone could call you dad; that day has finally come. I thank the Gods.
Pam. (aside.) I am ruined!
Pam. (aside.) I'm ruined!
Lach. Take home your wife, and don’t oppose my will.
LMAO. Take your wife home, and don’t go against my wishes.
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Pam. Father, if she had wished to have children by me, or to continue to be my wife, I am quite certain she would not have concealed from me what I find she has concealed. Now, as I find that her mind is estranged from me, and think that there would be no agreement between us in future, why should I take her back?
Pam. Dad, if she really wanted to have kids with me or stay married to me, I’m sure she wouldn’t have hidden from me what I’ve discovered she has hidden. Now that I see her mind is no longer connected to me, and I think we wouldn’t get along in the future, why should I take her back?
Lach. The young woman has done what her mother persuaded her. Is that to be wondered at? Do you suppose you can find any woman who is free from fault? Or is it that men have no failings?
LMAO. The young woman has done what her mother asked her to do. Is that surprising? Do you think you can find a woman without flaws? Or do men have no faults at all?
Phid. Do you yourselves now consider, Laches, and you, Pamphilus, whether it is most advisable for you to leave her or take her back. What your wife may do, is not in my control. Under neither circumstance will you meet with any difficulty from me. But what are we to do with the child?
Phid Do you both think about this, Laches and Pamphilus: is it better for you to leave her or take her back? I can't control what your wife decides. In either case, I won’t make things harder for you. But what should we do about the child?
Lach. You do ask an absurd question; whatever happens, send him back his child of course, that we may bring it up as ours.
Lmao. That's a ridiculous question; no matter what happens, of course, send him back his child, so we can raise it as our own.
Pam. (in a low voice.) A child which the father has abandoned, am I to rear?
Pam. (in a low voice.) Am I really supposed to take care of a child that the father has left behind?
Lach. What was it you said? How—not rear it, Pamphilus? Prithee, are we to expose it, in preference? What madness is this? Really, I can not now be silent any longer. For you force me to say in his presence (pointing to Phidippus) what I would rather not. Do you suppose I am in ignorance of the cause of your tears, or what it is on account of which you are perplexed to this degree? In the first place, when you alleged as a reason, that, on account of your mother, you could not have your wife at home, she promised that she would leave the house. Now, since you see this pretext as well taken away from you, because a child has been born without your knowledge, you have got another. You are mistaken if you suppose that I am ignorant of your feelings. That at last you might prevail upon your feelings to take this step, how long a period for loving a mistress did I allow you! With what patience did I bear the expense you were at in keeping her! I remonstrated with you and entreated you to take a wife. I said that it was time: by my persuasion you married. What you then did in obedience to me, you did as became you. Now again you have set your fancy upon a 290 mistress, and, to gratify her, you do an injury to the other as well. For I see plainly that you have once more relapsed into the same course of life.
Lmao. What did you say? How—not raise it, Pamphilus? Seriously, are we supposed to just expose it? What kind of madness is this? I really can't stay quiet anymore. You're making me say in front of him (pointing to Phidippus) what I’d rather not. Do you think I don't understand the reason for your tears, or what's causing your confusion? First of all, when you claimed that you couldn't have your wife at home because of your mother, she agreed to leave the house. Now that you see that excuse taken away from you because a child was born without your knowledge, you’ve come up with another. You're mistaken if you think I'm unaware of how you feel. How long did I let you follow your feelings to love a mistress? How patiently did I tolerate the money you spent on her! I tried to reason with you and urged you to take a wife. I said it was time: by my encouragement, you got married. What you did back then, you did as you should have. Now you’ve fallen for another mistress again, and to please her, you’re harming the other one as well. It's clear to me that you’ve returned to the same way of living.
Pam. What, I?
Pam. What do I?
Lach. Your own self, and you act unjustly therein. You feign false grounds for discord, that you may live with her when you have got rid of this witness of your actions; your wife has perceived it too; for what other reason had she for leaving you?
Lmao. You're being unfair to yourself. You’re making up excuses for conflict so you can be with her after getting rid of this witness to your actions; your wife has noticed it too. What other reason could she have for leaving you?
Phid. (to himself.) It’s clear he guesses right; for that must be it.
Phid (to himself.) It’s obvious he figured it out; that has to be it.
Pam. I will give you my oath that none of these is the reason.
Pam. I swear to you that none of these is the reason.
Lach. Oh take home your wife, or tell me why you should not.
Lmao. Just take your wife home, or explain to me why you shouldn’t.
Pam. It is not the time at present.
Pam. Now is not the right time.
Lach. Take the child, for surely that is not in fault; I will consider about the mother afterward.
LMAO. Take the child, because surely it’s not at fault; I’ll think about the mother later.
Pam. (apart.) In every way I am wretched, and what to do I know not; with so many troubles is my father now besetting wretched me on every side. I’ll go away from here, since I avail but little by my presence. For without my consent, I do not believe that they will bring up the child, especially as on that point my mother-in-law will second me.
Pam. (aside.) I'm completely miserable, and I have no idea what to do; my father is overwhelming me with so many problems. I'm going to leave this place since my presence doesn't seem to help at all. Without my approval, I really don't think they'll raise the child, especially since my mother-in-law will support me on that.
Exit speedily.
Exit quickly.
Scene VII.
Laches and Phidippus.
Laches and Phidippus.
Lach. (to Pamphilus.) Do you run away? What, and give me no distinct answer? (To Phidippus.) Does he seem to you to be in his senses? Let him alone. Phidippus, give me the child; I’ll bring it up.
Lmao. (to Pamphilus.) Are you just going to leave? What, and not give me a clear answer? (To Phidippus.) Does he look like he’s in his right mind to you? Just leave him be. Phidippus, hand me the child; I’ll take care of raising it.
Phid. By all means. No wonder if my wife has taken this amiss: women are resentful; they do not easily put up with such things. Hence that anger of hers, for she herself told me of it; I would not mention this to you in his presence, and at first I did not believe her; but now it is true beyond a doubt; for I see that his feelings are altogether averse to marriage.
Phid Absolutely. It’s not surprising that my wife took this the wrong way: women hold grudges; they don’t easily tolerate things like that. That explains her anger, as she mentioned it to me herself; I wouldn’t bring it up in front of him, and at first, I didn't believe her. But now, it’s clear without a doubt, because I can see that his feelings are completely against marriage.
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Lach. What am I to do, then, Phidippus? What advice do you give?
Lmao. What should I do now, Phidippus? What do you suggest?
Phid. What are you to do? I am of opinion that first we ought to go to this mistress of his. Let us use entreaties with her; then let us rebuke her; and at last, let us very seriously threaten her, if she gives him any encouragement in future.
Phid What’s our plan? I think we should start by talking to his mistress. Let’s plead with her first; then we’ll scold her; and finally, we’ll have to seriously threaten her if she encourages him again.
Lach. I will do as you advise. (Turning to an Attendant.) Ho, there, boy! run to the house of Bacchis here, our neighbor; desire her, in my name, to come hither. (Exit Attendant.) And you, I further entreat, to give me your assistance in this affair.
LMAO. I’ll do what you suggest. (Turning to an Staff member.) Hey, you there, go to Bacchis’ place, our neighbor, and ask her, on my behalf, to come over here. (Exit Staff member.) And I also ask you to help me with this situation.
Phid. Well, I have already said, and I now say again to the same effect, Laches, I wish this alliance between us to continue, if by any means it possibly may, which I trust will be the case. But should you like56 me to be with you while you meet her?
Phid Well, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Laches, I want this partnership between us to last, if it’s at all possible, which I believe it can be. But would you like me to be with you when you meet her?
Lach. Why yes; but first go and get some one as a nurse for the child.
LMAO. Sure; but first, go find someone to be a nurse for the child.
Exit Phidippus.
Exit Phidippus.
Scene VIII.
Enter Bacchis, attended by her Women.
Enter Bacchis, accompanied by her Women.
Bacch. (to her Women.) It is not for nothing that Laches now desires to speak with me; and, i’ faith, I am not very far from mistaken in making a guess what it is he wants me for.
Bacchus. (to her Women.) Laches wouldn't want to talk to me for no reason; honestly, I’m pretty sure I know what he’s after.
Lach. (to himself.) I must take care that I don’t, through anger, miss gaining in this quarter what I otherwise might, and that I don’t do any thing which hereafter it would have been better I had not done. I’ll accost her. (Accosts her.) Bacchis, good-morrow to you!
Lmao. (to himself.) I need to make sure I don’t let my anger get in the way of taking advantage of this opportunity, and that I don’t do anything I’ll regret later. I’ll approach her. (Approaches her.) Bacchis, good morning to you!
Bacch. Good-morrow to you, Laches!
Good morning to you, Laches!
Lach. Troth, now, Bacchis, I suppose you somewhat wonder 292 what can be my reason for sending the lad to fetch you out of doors.
LMAO. Honestly, Bacchis, I bet you're wondering 292 what my reason is for sending the guy to get you outside.
Bacch. Upon my faith, I am even in some anxiety as well, when I reflect what I am, lest the name of my calling should be to my prejudice; for my behavior I can easily defend.
Bacchus. Honestly, I feel a bit anxious too when I think about who I am, worried that my job title might work against me; I can easily justify my behavior.
Lach. If you speak the truth, you will be in no danger, woman, from me, for I am now of that age that it is not meet for me to receive forgiveness for a fault; for that reason do I the more carefully attend to every particular, that I may not act with rashness; for if you now do, or intend to do, that which is proper for deserving women to do, it would be unjust for me, in my ignorance, to offer an injury to you, when undeserving of it.
Lmao. If you tell the truth, you won't be in any danger from me. I'm at an age now where I shouldn't expect forgiveness for my mistakes. That's why I pay extra attention to every detail, so I can avoid acting impulsively. If you're doing, or planning to do, what is right for respectable women, it wouldn't be fair for me to harm you out of ignorance when you don't deserve it.
Bacch. On my word, great is the gratitude that I ought to feel toward you for such conduct; for he who, after committing an injury, would excuse himself, would profit me but little. But what is the matter?
Bacchus. Honestly, I really appreciate your behavior; someone who tries to justify their wrongdoings doesn’t help me at all. But what’s going on?
Lach. You admit my son, Pamphilus, to your house.
LMAO. You let my son, Pamphilus, into your home.
Bacch. Ah!
Bacch. Oh!
Lach. Just let me speak: before he was married to this woman, I tolerated your amour. Stay! I have not yet said to you what I intended. He has now got a wife: look out for another person more to be depended on, while you have time to deliberate; for neither will he be of this mind all his life, nor, i’ faith, will you be always of your present age.
LMAO. Just let me talk: before he married this woman, I put up with your affair. Stay! I haven’t told you what I meant to say. He’s now got a wife: look for someone more reliable while you still have time to think; because he won’t feel the same way forever, and honestly, you won’t always be this age either.
Bacch. Who is it says this?
Bacch. Who's saying this?
Lach. His mother-in-law.
Lach. His mother-in-law.
Bacch. What! that I—
Bacch. What! that I—
Lach. That you do: and she has taken away her daughter; and for that reason, has wished secretly to destroy the child that has been born.
Lmao. You sure do: and she has taken her daughter away; and for that reason, she secretly wants to get rid of the child that was born.
Bacch. Did I know any other means whereby I might be enabled to establish my credit with you, more solemn than an oath, I would, Laches, assure you of this, that I have kept Pamphilus at a distance57 from me ever since he took a wife.
Bacchus. If I knew any other way to build my trust with you that feels more serious than an oath, I would, Laches, assure you that I have kept Pamphilus at a distance57 since he got married.
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Lach. You are very good. But, pray, do you know what I would prefer that you should do?
Lmao. You're really great. But, please, do you know what I would rather you do?
Bacch. What? Tell me.
Bacch. What? Share with me.
Lach. Go in-doors there (pointing to the house of Phidippus) to the women, and make the same promise, on oath, to them; satisfy their minds, and clear yourself from this charge.
Lmao. Go inside there (pointing to the house of Phidippus) to the women and make the same promise, under oath, to them; ease their minds and clear yourself of this accusation.
Bacch. I will do so; although, i’faith, if it had been any other woman of this calling, she would not have done so, I am quite sure; present herself before a married woman for such a purpose! But I do not wish your son to be suspected on an unfounded report, nor appear inconstant, undeservedly, to you, to whom he by no means ought; for he has deserved of me, that, so far as I am able, I should do him a service.
Bacchus. I will do that; though honestly, if it were any other woman in this profession, I’m sure she wouldn’t have done the same—showing up in front of a married woman for that reason! But I don’t want your son to be suspected based on a baseless rumor, nor to seem disloyal to you, which he definitely shouldn’t; he has earned my favor, and as much as I can, I should help him.
Lach. Your language has rendered me quite friendly and well disposed toward you; but not only did they think so—I too believed it. Now that I have found you quite different from what I had expected, take care that you still continue the same—make use of my friendship as you please; if otherwise——; but I will forbear, that you may not hear any thing unkind from me. But this one thing I recommend you—make trial what sort of a friend I am, or what I can effect as such, rather than what as an enemy.
Lmao. Your words have made me feel quite friendly and open towards you; not only did they think that, but I believed it too. Now that I see you are different from what I expected, make sure you stay the same—use my friendship however you like; but if not… I will hold back, so you don't hear anything unkind from me. Just one thing I suggest—test what kind of friend I am, or what I can do as a friend, rather than what I could do as an enemy.
Scene IX.
Enter Phidippus and a Nurse.
Enter Phidippus and a Nurse.
Phid. (to the Nurse.) Nothing at my house will I suffer you to be in want of; but whatever is requisite shall be supplied you in abundance. Still, when you are well fed and well drenched, do take care that the child has enough.
Phid (to the Nurse.) I won’t let you go without anything at my house; whatever you need will be provided for you in plenty. However, once you’re well-fed and taken care of, please make sure the child has enough too.
The Nurse goes into his house.
The Nurse enters his house.
Lach. (to Bacchis.) My son’s father-in-law, I see, is coming; he is bringing a nurse for the child. (Accosting him.) Phidippus, Bacchis swears most solemnly.
LMAO. (to Bacchis.) I see my son’s father-in-law is arriving; he’s bringing a nurse for the child. (Addressing him.) Phidippus, Bacchis swears it’s true.
Phid. Is this she?
Phid. Is this her?
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Lach. It is.
Lach. It sure is.
Phid. Upon my faith, those women don’t fear the Gods; and I don’t think that the Gods care about them.
Phid Honestly, those women don’t fear the Gods; and I don’t think the Gods care about them either.
Bacch. (pointing to her Attendants.) I will give you up my female servants; with my full permission, examine them with any tortures you please. The business at present is this: I must make his wife return home to Pamphilus; should I effect that, I shall not regret its being reported that I have been the only one to do what other courtesans avoid doing.58
Bacchus. (pointing to her Staff.) I will let you take my female servants; feel free to question them however you want. Right now, the situation is this: I need to get his wife to come back to Pamphilus; if I can pull that off, I won’t mind being the one who did what other courtesans wouldn’t dare to do.58
Lach. We find, Phidippus, that our wives have been unjustly suspected59 by us in this matter. Let us now try her still further; for if your wife discovers that she has given credence to a false charge, she will dismiss her resentment; but if my son is also angry, by reason of the circumstance that his wife has been brought to bed without his knowledge, that is a trifle: his anger on that account will speedily subside. Assuredly in this matter, there is nothing so bad as to be deserving of a separation.
Lmao. Phidippus, we’ve realized that we’ve unfairly suspected our wives in this matter. Let’s test her again; if your wife finds out that she believed a false accusation, she’ll let go of her anger. But if my son is upset because his wife had a baby without him knowing, that’s not a big deal: he’ll get over his anger quickly. I can assure you, there’s nothing here that really warrants a separation.
Phid. I sincerely wish it may be so.
Phid. I really hope it goes down.
Lach. Examine her; here she is; she herself will satisfy you.
Lmao. Look at her; here she is; she will fulfill your desires.
Phid. Why do you tell me these things? Is it because you have not already heard what my feelings are with regard to this matter, Laches? Do you only satisfy their minds.
Phid Why are you telling me this? Is it because you haven't already heard how I feel about this, Laches? Are you just trying to reassure them?
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Lach. Troth now, Bacchis, I do entreat that what you have promised me you will do.
Lmao. Honestly now, Bacchis, I really hope that you will do what you promised me.
Bacch. Would you wish me, then, to go in about this business?
Bacchus. Do you want me to handle this matter?
Lach. Go, and satisfy their minds, so as to make them believe it.
Lmao. Go, and convince them, so they truly believe it.
Bacch. I’ll go: although, upon my word, I am quite sure that my presence will be disagreeable to them, for a married woman is the enemy of a mistress, when she has been separated from her husband.
Bacchus. I’ll go: but honestly, I’m pretty sure that my being there will annoy them, since a married woman sees a mistress as an enemy when she’s away from her husband.
Lach. But they will be your friends, when they know the reason of your coming.
LMAO. But they will be your friends when they understand why you came.
Phid. And I promise that they shall be your friends, when they know the fact; for you will release them from their mistake, and yourself, at the same time, from suspicion.
Phid And I promise they'll be your friends when they understand the situation; you'll free them from their misunderstanding and yourself from any doubt at the same time.
Bacch. Wretched me! I’m ashamed to meet Philumena. (To her Attendants.) Do you both follow me into the house.
Bacchus. Oh no! I feel embarrassed to meet Philumena. (To her Staff.) You both come with me into the house.
Goes into the house with Phidippus and her Attendants.
Goes into the house with Phidippus and her Staff.
Lach. (to himself.) What is there that I could more wish for, than what I see has happened to this woman? To gain favor without loss to myself, and to benefit myself at the same time. For if now it is the fact that she has really withdrawn from Pamphilus, she knows that by that step she has acquired honor and reputation: she returns the favor to him, and, by the same means, attaches us as friends to herself.
LMAO. (to himself.) What could I possibly want more than what has happened to this woman? She’s gained favor without any cost to herself and benefited from it at the same time. If she truly has stepped away from Pamphilus, she understands that this move has brought her honor and a good reputation: she’s returning the favor to him and, in doing so, is bringing us closer as friends.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Enter Parmeno, moving along with difficulty.
Enter Parmeno, moving awkwardly.
Par. (to himself.) Upon my faith, my master does assuredly think my labor of little value; to have sent me for nothing, where I have been sitting the whole day to no purpose, waiting at the citadel for Callidemides, his landlord at Myconos. And so, while sitting there to-day, like a fool, as each person came by, I accosted him:—“Young man, just tell me, pray, are you a Myconian?” “I am not.” “But is your 296 name Callidemides?” “No.” “Have you any former guest here named Pamphilus?” All said. “No; and I don’t believe that there is any such person.” At last, i’ faith, I was quite ashamed, and went away. But how is it I see Bacchis coming out of our neighbor’s? What business can she have there?
Par. (to himself.) Honestly, my master really thinks my work is worthless; he sent me for nothing while I've been sitting here all day waiting at the citadel for Callidemides, his landlord at Myconos. So, while sitting there today, like an idiot, I approached every person who passed by: “Hey, are you from Myconos?” “No.” “Is your 296 name Callidemides?” “No.” “Do you know a previous guest here named Pamphilus?” Everyone said, “No; and I don’t think there’s such a person.” Eventually, I was really embarrassed and left. But wait, why do I see Bacchis coming out of our neighbor’s? What could she be doing there?
Scene II.
Enter Bacchis, from the house of Phidippus.
Enter Bacchis, from the house of Phidippus.
Bacch. Parmeno, you make your appearance opportunely; run with all speed60 to Pamphilus.
Bacchus. Parmeno, you're showing up at just the right time; hurry as fast as you can60 to Pamphilus.
Par. Why thither?
Par. Why go there?
Bacch. Say that I entreat him to come.
Bacchus. Tell him I'm begging him to come.
Par. To your house?
To your place?
Bacch. No; to Philumena.
No; to Philumena.
Par. What’s the matter?
Par. What's wrong?
Bacch. Nothing that concerns you; so cease to make inquiry.
Bacchus. It's not your business, so stop asking about it.
Par. Am I to say nothing else?
Par. Should I not say anything else?
Bacch. Yes; that Myrrhina has recognized that ring as her daughter’s, which he formerly gave me.
Bacchus. Yes; Myrrhina has identified that ring as her daughter's, which he gave to me before.
Par. I understand—is that all?
I get it—is that all?
Bacch. That’s all. He will be here directly he has heard this from you. But do you linger?
Bacchus. That’s it. He’ll be here as soon as he hears this from you. But why are you hesitating?
Par. Far from it, indeed; for I’ve not had the opportunity given me to-day; so much with running and walking about have I wasted the whole day.
Par. Not at all; I haven’t had the chance today. I've spent the whole day just running around and walking.
Goes into the house of Laches.
Enters Laches's house.
Scene III.
Bacchis, alone.
Bacchis, by herself.
Bacch. What great joy have I caused for Pamphilus by my coming to-day! How many blessings have I brought him! and from how many sorrows have I rescued him! A son 297 I save for him, when it was nearly perishing through the agency of these women and of himself: a wife, whom he thought that he must cast off forever, I restore to him: from the suspicion that he lay under with his father and Phidippus, I have cleared him. This ring, in fact, was the cause of these discoveries being made. For I remember, that about ten months ago, at an early hour of night, he came running home to my house, out of breath, without a companion, and surcharged with wine,61 with this ring in his hand. I felt alarmed immediately: “My Pamphilus,” I said, “prithee, my dear, why thus breathless, or where did you get that ring?—tell me!” He began to pretend that he was thinking of something else. When I saw that, I began to suspect I know not what, and to press him still more to tell me. The fellow confessed that he had ravished some female, he knew not whom, in the street; and said, that while she was struggling, he had taken that ring away from her. Myrrhina here recognized it just now, while I had it on my finger. She asked whence it came: I told her all the story. Hence the discovery has been made that it was Philumena ravished by him, and that this new-born child is his. I am overjoyed that this happiness has befallen him through my agency; although other courtesans would not have similar feelings; nor, indeed, is it to our interest that any lover should find pleasure in matrimony. But, i’faith, I never, for the sake of gain, will give my mind to base actions. So long as I had the opportunity, I found him to be kind, easy, and good-natured. This marriage has fallen out unluckily for me,—that I confess to be the fact. But, upon my word, I do think that I have done nothing for it to befall me deservedly. It is but reasonable to endure inconveniences from one from whom I have received so many benefits.
Bacchus. What great joy have I brought to Pamphilus with my visit today! How many blessings have I given him! And from how many sorrows have I saved him! I saved a son for him when he was about to lose him because of these women and his own actions: a wife he thought he had to give up forever—I’ve restored her to him: and I’ve cleared him from the suspicion he faced from his father and Phidippus. This ring was actually what led to these revelations. I remember, about ten months ago, one night he came rushing back to my place, out of breath, alone, and obviously drunk, with this ring in his hand. I got worried immediately: “Pamphilus,” I said, “please, my dear, why are you so breathless? Where did you get that ring?—tell me!” He started acting like he was thinking about something else. When I noticed that, I began to suspect something was off and pushed him to tell me more. The guy confessed that he had forced some woman, he didn’t even know who, in the street; and said that while she was fighting back, he took that ring from her. Myrrhina recognized it just now while I had it on my finger. She asked where it came from: I told her the whole story. That’s how it was discovered that he had assaulted Philumena and that this newborn child is his. I’m so happy this has happened to him through my efforts; although other courtesans might not feel the same way; and honestly, it’s not in our interest for any lover to enjoy marriage. But I swear, I will never stoop to dishonorable actions for the sake of profit. As long as I had the chance, he showed kindness, ease, and good nature. This marriage has turned out poorly for me—I admit that. But honestly, I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve this outcome. It’s only fair to endure some inconveniences from someone from whom I have received so many benefits.
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Scene IV.
Enter Pamphilus and Parmeno, from the house of Laches, on the other side of the stage.
Enter Pamphilus and Parmeno, coming from the house of Laches, on the other side of the stage.
Pam. Once more, take care, will you, my dear Parmeno, that you have brought me a faithful and distinct account, so as not to allure me for a short time to indulge in these transient joys.
Pam. Once again, please be careful, my dear Parmeno, to give me an honest and clear report, so that you don't tempt me into enjoying these fleeting pleasures for just a little while.
Par. I have taken care.
Par. I've got it covered.
Pam. For certain?
Pam. For sure?
Par. For certain.
Definitely.
Pam. I am quite a God, if it is so!
Pam. I am definitely a God, if that's the case!
Par. You’ll find it true.
Par. You’ll find it real.
Pam. Just stay, will you; I fear that I’m believing one thing, and you are telling another.
Pam. Just stay, okay? I’m worried that I'm thinking one thing, and you’re saying something completely different.
Par. I am staying.
I’m staying.
Pam. I think you said to this effect—that Myrrhina had discovered that Bacchis has her ring.
Pam. I think you mentioned something like this—that Myrrhina found out that Bacchis has her ring.
Par. It is the fact.
Par. That’s the truth.
Pam. The one I formerly gave to her; and she has desired you to tell me this: is such the fact?
Pam. The one I used to give to her; and she's asked you to let me know this: is that true?
Par. Such is so, I tell you.
Par. That's how it is, I'm telling you.
Pam. Who is there happier than I, and, in fact, more full of joyousness? What am I to present you for these tidings? What?—what? I know not.
Pam. Who's happier than I am, and honestly, more full of joy? What should I give you for this news? What?—what? I have no idea.
Par. But I know.
Par. But I get it.
Pam. What?
Pam. Huh?
Par. Why, nothing; for neither in the tidings nor in myself do I know of there being any advantage to you.
Par. Well, nothing; because I don't see any benefit to you in the news or in myself.
Pam. What! am I to suffer you, who have caused me, when dead, to be restored from the shades to life—to leave me unrewarded? Oh, you deem me too thankless! But look—I see Bacchis standing before the door; she’s waiting for me, I suppose; I’ll accost her.
Pam. What! Am I really supposed to deal with you, who brought me back from the dead, and not get anything in return? Oh, you think I'm ungrateful! But look—I see Bacchis by the door; she's waiting for me, I guess; I'll go talk to her.
Bacch. Save you, Pamphilus!
Bacch. God save you, Pamphilus!
Pam. Oh Bacchis! Oh my Bacchis—my preserver!
Pam. Oh Bacchis! Oh my Bacchis—my savior!
Bacch. It is a fortunate thing, and gives me great delight.
Bacchus. It's a lucky thing, and it brings me a lot of joy.
Pam. By your actions, you give me reason to believe you, and so much do you retain your former charming qualities, 299 that wherever you go, the meeting with you, your company, your conversation, always give pleasure.
Pam. Your actions make me believe in you, and you still have that charming quality you used to have, 299 because every time I meet you, enjoy your company, or have a conversation with you, it always brings me joy.
Bacch. And you, upon my word, possess your former manners and disposition; so much so that not a single man living is more engaging than you.
Bacchus. And you, I swear, still have your old ways and attitude; in fact, no one alive is more charming than you.
Pam. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! do you tell me so?
Pam. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! Are you really saying that?
Bacch. You had reason, Pamphilus, for being so fond of your wife. For never before to-day did I set eyes upon her, so as to know her: she seems a very gentle person.
Bacchus. You had a good reason, Pamphilus, to be so in love with your wife. I've never seen her before today, and now that I have, she seems like a really kind person.
Pam. Tell the truth.
Pam. Be honest.
Bacch. So may the Gods bless me, Pamphilus!
Bacchus. May the Gods bless me, Pamphilus!
Pam. Tell me, have you as yet told any of these matters to my father?
Pam. Tell me, have you told my dad about any of this yet?
Bacch. Not a word.
Bacch. Not a peep.
Pam. Nor is there need, in fact; therefore keep it a secret: I don’t wish it to be the case here as it is in the Comedies,62 where every thing is known to every body. Here, those who ought to know, know already; but those who ought not to know, shall neither hear of it nor know it.
Pam. There’s really no need for that; so keep it a secret: I don’t want it to be like in the Comedies, where everyone knows everything. Here, the people who should know already do; but those who shouldn’t know won’t hear about it or find out.
Bacch. Nay more, I will give you a proof why you may suppose that this may be the more easily concealed. Myrrhina has told Phidippus to this effect—that she has given credit to my oath, and that, in consequence, in her eyes you are exculpated.
Bacchus. Besides, I’ll give you a reason why you might think this could be hidden more easily. Myrrhina has told Phidippus that she believes my oath, and because of that, in her eyes, you’re off the hook.
Pam. Most excellent; and I trust that this matter will turn out according to our wishes.
Pam. That sounds great; I really hope this works out the way we want it to.
Par. Master, may I not be allowed to know from you what is the good that I have done to-day, or what it is you are talking about?
Par. Master, can you tell me what good I did today or what you’re discussing?
Pam. You may not.
Pam. You can't.
300
300
Par. Still I suspect. “I restore him, when dead, from the shades below.”63 In what way?
Par. Still I have my doubts. “I bring him back, when he's dead, from the underworld.”63 How?
Pam. You don’t know, Parmeno, how much you have benefited me to-day, and from what troubles you have extricated me.
Pam. You have no idea, Parmeno, how much you’ve helped me today and what troubles you’ve saved me from.
Par. Nay, but indeed I do know: and I did not do it without design.
Par. No, I really do know: and I didn't do it without a purpose.
Pam. I know that well enough (ironically).
Pam. I get that clearly enough (ironically).
Bacch. Could Parmeno, from negligence, omit any thing that ought to be done?
Bacchus. Could Parmeno, out of carelessness, forget to do something that needs to be done?
Pam. Follow me in, Parmeno.
Pam. Come in, Parmeno.
Par. I’ll follow; for my part, I have done more good to-day, without knowing it, than ever I did, knowingly, in all my life. (Coming forward.) Grant us your applause.64
Par. I’ll go with you; honestly, I’ve done more good today, without realizing it, than I ever did on purpose in my whole life. (Coming forward.) Please give us your applause.64
FOOTNOTES
2. From φειδὼ, “parsimony,” and ἱππὸς “a horse.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From φειδὼ, “frugality,” and ἱππὸς “horse.”
6. See the Dramatis Personæ of the Heautontimorumenos.
6. Check out the Dramatis Personæ of the Heautontimorumenos.
7. From μυῤῥινὴ “a myrtle.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From μυῤῥινὴ “a myrtle.”
8. See the Dramatis Personæ of the Heautontimorumenos.
8. See the list of characters in the Heautontimorumenos.
9. From φιλοτὴς “friendship.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From φιλοτὴς “friendship.”
10. From Syria, her native country.
From Syria, her homeland.
11. Menander)—According to some, this Play was borrowed from the Greek of Apollodorus, a Comic Poet and contemporary of Menander, who wrote forty-seven Plays.
11. Menander)—Some say this play was taken from the Greek work of Apollodorus, a comic poet and contemporary of Menander, who wrote forty-seven plays.
12. Being Consuls)—Cneius Octavius Nepos and T. Manlius Torquatus were Consuls in the year from the building of the City 587, and B.C. 166.
12. Being Consuls)—Cneius Octavius Nepos and T. Manlius Torquatus were Consuls in the year 587 from the founding of the City and BCE 166.
14. Hecyra)—Ver. 1. The Greek word Ἕκυρα, a “step-mother,” or “mother-in-law,” Latinized.
14. Hecyra)—Ver. 1. The Greek word Hecuba, meaning “step-mother” or “mother-in-law,” translated into Latin.
15. And calamity)—Ver. 3. “Calamitas.” This word is used in the same sense in the first line of the Eunuch. This is evidently the Prologue spoken on the second attempt to bring forward the piece. On the first occasion it probably had none. “Vitium” was a word used by the Augurs, with whom it implied an unfavorable omen, and thence came to be used for any misfortune or disaster. He seems to mean the depraved taste of the public, that preferred exhibitions of rope-dancers and pugilists to witnessing his Plays.
15. And disaster)—Ver. 3. “Calamity.” This term is used in the same way in the first line of the Eunuch. This is clearly the Prologue delivered during the second attempt to present the play. On the first try, it likely didn’t have one. “Fault” was a term used by the Augurs, which implied a bad omen, and so it came to be used for any misfortune or disaster. He seems to refer to the poor taste of the audience, who preferred shows with acrobats and fighters over watching his plays.
17. Other Plays of his)—Ver. 8. Madame Dacier informs us that Vossius was of opinion that the second representation of this Play did not take place till after that of the Adelphi. In that case, they had already seen the rest of his Plays.
17. Other Plays of his)—Ver. 8. Madame Dacier tells us that Vossius believed the second performance of this play happened only after the one for the Adelphi. If that's true, then they had already seen his other plays.
18. Second Prologue)—Eugraphius informs us that this Prologue was spoken by Ambivius Turpio, the head of the company of Actors.
18. Second Prologue)—Eugraphius tells us that this Prologue was delivered by Ambivius Turpio, the leader of the group of Actors.
19. Cæcilius)—Ver. 14. Colman has the following Note: “A famous Comic Poet among the Romans. His chief excellences are said to have been, the gravity of his style and the choice of his subjects. The first quality was attributed to him by Horace, Tully, etc., and the last by Varro. ‘In argumentis Cæcilius poscit palmam, in ethesi Terentius.’ ‘In the choice of subjects, Cæcilius demands the preference; in the manners, Terence.’” Madame Dacier, indeed, renders “in argumentis,” “in the disposition of his subjects.” But the words will not bear that construction. “Argumentum,” I believe, is uniformly used for the argument itself, and never implies the conduct of it; as in the Prologue to the Andrian, “non tam dissimili argumento.” Besides, the disposition of the subject was the very art attributed by the critics of those days to Terence, and which Horace mentions in the very same line with the gravity of Cæcilius, distinguishing them as the several characteristics of each writer, “Vincere Cæcilius gravitate, Terentius arte.”
19. Cæcilius)—Ver. 14. Colman has the following Note: “A famous comic poet among the Romans. His main strengths were said to be the seriousness of his style and the selection of his subjects. Horace, Cicero, and others attributed the first quality to him, while Varro noted the second. ‘In arguments, Cæcilius takes the prize; in style, it’s Terence.’ ‘In choosing subjects, Cæcilius deserves the preference; in character portrayal, Terence.’” Madame Dacier does translate “in argumentis” as “in the arrangement of his subjects.” However, that interpretation doesn’t hold up. “Argumentum,” I believe, is always used to refer to the argument itself, not the way it's carried out; as in the Prologue to the Andrian, “not a very different argument.” Furthermore, the arrangement of the subject was precisely the skill credited to Terence by critics of that time, and which Horace mentions in the same line alongside the seriousness of Cæcilius, highlighting them as distinct traits of each writer, “Cæcilius wins with seriousness, Terence with skill.”
20. Vauntings of boxers)—Ver. 33. Horace probably had this passage in his mind when he penned the First Epistle in his Second Book, l. 185; where he mentions the populace leaving a Play in the midst for the sight of a bear, or an exhibition of boxers.
20. Boasting of boxers)—Ver. 33. Horace likely had this section in mind when he wrote the First Epistle in his Second Book, l. 185; where he talks about the crowd leaving a play in the middle for the sight of a bear or a boxing match.
21. Of a rope-dancer)—Ver. 34. The art of dancing on the tight rope was carried to great perfection among the ancients. Many paintings have been discovered, which show the numerous attitudes which the performers assumed. The figures have their heads enveloped in skins or caps, probably intended as a protection in case of falling. At the conclusion of the performance the dancer ran down the rope. Germanicus and Galba are said to have exhibited elephants dancing on the tight rope.
21. Of a rope-dancer)—Ver. 34. The skill of tightrope dancing was highly developed in ancient times. Many paintings have been found that depict the various poses the performers took. The figures have their heads covered with skins or caps, likely meant to protect them in case they fell. At the end of the performance, the dancer would run down the rope. It’s said that Germanicus and Galba showcased elephants dancing on the tightrope.
22. The old custom of mine)—Ver. 38. He says that on the second representation he followed the plan which he had formerly adopted in the Plays of Cæcilius, of bringing those forward again which had not given satisfaction at first.
22. The old custom of mine)—Ver. 38. He states that in the second performance he used the same approach he had previously taken in the plays of Cæcilius, reintroducing those that hadn't been well received at first.
23. Fight for their places)—Ver. 41. This was in consequence of their sitting indiscriminately at the Amphitheatre, where the gladiators were exhibited; whereas at the Theatres there were distinct places appropriated to each “ordo” or class.
23. Fight for their places)—Ver. 41. This happened because they sat randomly in the Amphitheatre, where the gladiators performed; while in the Theatres, there were specific seats assigned to each “ordo” or class.
24. Gracing the scenic festival)—Ver. 45. Madame Dacier remarks that there is great force and eloquence in the Actor’s affecting a concern for the sacred festivals, which were in danger of being deprived of their chief ornaments, if by too great a severity they discouraged the Poets who undertook to furnish the Plays during the solemnity.
24. Gracing the scenic festival)—Ver. 45. Madame Dacier points out that there is a lot of power and expression in the Actor’s showing concern for the important festivals, which risk losing their main attractions if too much strictness discourages the Poets who are responsible for providing the Plays during the celebrations.
25. At my own expense)—Ver. 57. It is generally supposed that “meo pretio” means “a price named as my estimate;” and that it was the custom for the Ædiles to purchase a Play of a Poet at a price fixed by the head of the company of actors. It is also thought that the money was paid to the actor, who handed over the whole, or a certain part, to the Poet, and if the Play was not received with favor, the Ædiles had the right to ask back the money from the actor, who consequently became a loser by the transaction. Pareus and Meric Casaubon think, however, that in case of this Play, the Ædiles had purchased it from the Poet, and the performers had bought it of the Ædiles as a speculation. What he means at the end of the First Prologue by selling the Play over again, is not exactly known. Perhaps if the Play had been then performed throughout and received with no favor, he would have had to forfeit the money, and lose all right to any future pecuniary interest in it; but he preferred to cancel the whole transaction, and to reserve the Play for purchase and representation at a more favorable period.
25. At my own expense)—Ver. 57. It's generally believed that “meo pretio” means “a price set based on my estimation;” and that the practice for the Ædiles was to buy a Play from a Poet at a price determined by the lead actor. It's also thought that the money went to the actor, who then gave the whole sum, or part of it, to the Poet. If the Play didn’t go over well, the Ædiles had the right to reclaim the money from the actor, who would then take a loss on the deal. However, Pareus and Meric Casaubon argue that in this case, the Ædiles bought the Play directly from the Poet, and then the actors purchased it from the Ædiles as a gamble. What is meant at the end of the First Prologue by reselling the Play isn’t entirely clear. It’s possible that if the Play had been performed and received poorly, he would have had to give up the money and lose any future financial interest in it; but he chose instead to void the entire deal and keep the Play for sale and performance at a better time.
26. Philotis)—This is a protatic character, or one that helps to introduce the subject of the Play, and then appears no more.
26. Philotis)—This is a supporting character, or one that helps to introduce the subject of the play, and then doesn't appear again.
27. Don’t say so, Parmeno)—Ver. 109. She says this ironically, at the same time intimating that she knows Parmeno too well, not to be sure that he is as impatient to impart the secret to her as she is to know it. Donatus remarks, that she pretends she has no curiosity to hear it, that he may deem her the more worthy to be intrusted with the secret.
27. Don’t say so, Parmeno)—Ver. 109. She says this sarcastically, hinting that she knows Parmeno well enough to be certain he's just as eager to share the secret with her as she is to hear it. Donatus notes that she pretends she isn't curious to know, so he will see her as more deserving of being trusted with the secret.
28. Imbros)—Ver. 171. An island in the Ægean Sea, off the coast of Thrace.
28. Imbros)—Ver. 171. An island in the Aegean Sea, off the coast of Thrace.
29. From her presence)—Ver. 182. For the purpose, as will afterward appear, of not letting Sostrata see that she was pregnant.
29. From her presence)—Ver. 182. The reason, as will become clear later, was to keep Sostrata from knowing she was pregnant.
30. With a certain stranger)—Ver. 195. Here Philotis gives a reason, as Donatus observes, why she does not again appear in the Play. The following is an extract from Colman’s remarks on this passage: “It were to be wished, for the sake of the credit of our author’s acknowledged art in the Drama, that Philotis had assigned as good a reason for her appearing at all. Eugraphius justly says: ‘The Courtesan in this Scene is a character quite foreign to the fable.’ Donatus also says much the same thing in his Preface, and in his first Note to this Comedy; but adds that ‘Terence chose this method rather than to relate the argument by means of a Prologue, or to introduce a God speaking from a machine. I will venture to say that the Poet might have taken a much shorter and easier method than either; I mean, to have begun the Play with the very Scene which now opens the Second Act.’”
30. With a certain stranger)—Ver. 195. Here Philotis explains, as Donatus points out, why she doesn’t appear again in the play. The following is an excerpt from Colman's comments on this passage: “It would be nice, for the sake of our author’s recognized art in the drama, if Philotis had given as good a reason for her appearing at all. Eugraphius rightly says: ‘The courtesan in this scene is a character completely unrelated to the story.’ Donatus says something very similar in his Preface and in his first Note to this comedy; he adds that ‘Terence chose this method instead of telling the story through a prologue or having a god appear from a machine. I will suggest that the poet could have taken a much shorter and simpler approach than either; I mean, starting the play with the very scene that now opens the second act.’”
31. Scene I.)—Colman has the following observations on this Scene: “Donatus remarks that this Scene opens the intention of Terence to oppose the generally-received opinion, and to draw the character of a good step-mother. It would, therefore, as has been already observed, have been a very proper Scene to begin the Play, as it carries us immediately into the midst of things; and we can not fail to be interested when we see the persons acting so deeply interested themselves. We gather from it just so much of the story as is necessary for our information at first setting out. We are told of the abrupt departure of Philumena, and are witnesses of the confusion in the two families of Laches and Phidippus. The absence of Laches, which had been in great measure the occasion of this misunderstanding, is also very artfully mentioned in the altercation between him and Sostrata. The character of Laches is very naturally drawn. He has a good heart, and a testy disposition, and the poor old gentleman is kept in such constant perplexity that he has perpetual occasion to exert both those qualities.”
31. Scene I.)—Colman has the following observations on this Scene: “Donatus points out that this Scene reveals Terence's intention to challenge the widely held belief and to portray the character of a good stepmother. Therefore, as has already been noted, this would have been a very fitting Scene to start the Play, as it immediately immerses us in the action; and we can't help but become interested when we see the characters so deeply engaged themselves. We learn just enough of the story to inform us at the outset. We hear about Philumena's sudden departure and witness the chaos in the two families of Laches and Phidippus. Laches’ absence, which largely caused this misunderstanding, is cleverly highlighted in the argument between him and Sostrata. Laches' character is portrayed very naturally. He has a good heart and a grumpy demeanor, and the poor old man is kept in such a state of constant confusion that he’s always forced to show both those traits.”
32. Intrust their children)—Ver. 212. The plural “liberos,” children, is used where only one is being spoken of, similarly, in the Heautontimorumenos, l. 151.
32. Entrust their children)—Ver. 212. The plural “liberos,” children, is used when referring to just one, similarly, in the Heautontimorumenos, l. 151.
33. If he comes to know)—Ver. 262. Donatus observes that the Poet shows his art in here preparing a reason to be assigned by Pamphilus for his pretended discontent at the departure of his wife.
33. If he finds out)—Ver. 262. Donatus points out that the Poet demonstrates his skill by setting up a reason that Pamphilus will give for his supposed unhappiness at his wife's leaving.
34. Ha! Sostrata)—Ver. 271. Colman observes on this passage: “This is extremely artful. The answer of Philumena, as related by Phidippus, contains an ample vindication of Pamphilus. What, then, can we suppose could make the house so disagreeable to her in his absence, but the behavior of Sostrata? She declares her innocence; yet appearances are all against her. Supposing this to be the first Act of the Play, it would be impossible for a Comedy to open in a more interesting manner.”
34. Ha! Sostrata)—Ver. 271. Colman notes on this passage: “This is very clever. Philumena's response, as told by Phidippus, provides a strong defense for Pamphilus. So, what could possibly make the house so unpleasant for her in his absence, except for Sostrata's behavior? She claims she's innocent; yet everything seems to point against her. If this is indeed the first Act of the Play, it’s hard to imagine a Comedy starting in a more engaging way.”
35. And carry word)—Ver. 314. It was the custom with the Greeks and Romans, when returning from abroad, to send a messenger before them, to inform their wives of their arrival.
35. And carry word)—Ver. 314. It was customary for the Greeks and Romans, when coming back from abroad, to send a messenger ahead of them to let their wives know they were arriving.
36. Was in alarm about)—Ver. 321. “Pavitare.” Casaubon has a curious suggestion here; he thinks it not improbable that he had heard the female servants whispering among themselves that Philumena “paritare,” “was about to be brought to bed,” which he took for “pavitare,” “was in fear” of something.
36. Was concerned about)—Ver. 321. “Pavitare.” Casaubon has an interesting idea here; he thinks it’s quite possible that he overheard the female servants chatting among themselves that Philumena “paritare,” “was about to give birth,” which he misunderstood as “pavitare,” “was afraid” of something.
37. Heavy punishment)—Ver. 335. Probably meaning that he will be examined by torture, whether he has not, by drugs or other means, contributed to Philumena’s illness.
37. Severe punishment)—Ver. 335. Likely referring to the fact that he will be subjected to torture to determine if he has used drugs or other methods to cause Philumena’s illness.
38. And thee, Health)—Ver. 338. She invokes Æsculapius, the God of Medicine, and “Salus,” or “Health,” because, in Greece, their statues were always placed near each other; so that to have offered prayers to one and not to the other, would have been deemed a high indignity. On the worship of Æsculapius, see the opening Scene of the Curculio of Plautus.
38. And you, Health)—Ver. 338. She calls upon Æsculapius, the God of Medicine, and “Salus,” or “Health,” because in Greece, their statues were always located near each other; so neglecting to pray to one while honoring the other would have been considered a serious disrespect. For more on the worship of Æsculapius, see the opening scene of the Curculio by Plautus.
39. An intermitting one)—Ver. 357. “Quotidiana;” literally, “daily.”
39. A recurring one)—Ver. 357. “Quotidiana;” literally, “daily.”
40. All of them change)—Ver. 369. This must have been imaginary, as they were not likely to be acquainted with the reason of Philumena’s apprehensions.
40. All of them change)—Ver. 369. This must have been imaginary, as they were not likely to be aware of the reason for Philumena’s worries.
41. Since she came to you)—Ver. 394. There is great doubt what is the exact meaning of “postquam ad te venit,” here,—whether it means, “it is now the seventh month since she became your wife,” or, “it is now the seventh month since she came to your embraces,” which did not happen for two months after the marriage. The former is, under the circumstances, the most probable construction.
41. Since she came to you)—Ver. 394. There is a lot of uncertainty about what “postquam ad te venit” really means here—whether it refers to “it has now been seven months since she became your wife,” or “it has now been seven months since she came into your arms,” which didn't happen until two months after the marriage. Given the situation, the first interpretation is the most likely.
42. Committed upon her)—Ver. 401. Colman very justly observes here: “it is rather extraordinary that Myrrhina’s account of the injury done to her daughter should not put Pamphilus in mind of his own adventure, which comes out in the Fifth Act. It is certain that had the Poet let the Audience into that secret in this place, they would have immediately concluded that the wife of Pamphilus and the lady whom he had ravished were one and the same person.” Playwrights have never, in any age or country, troubled themselves much about probability in their plots. Besides, his adventure with Philumena was by no means an uncommon one. We find similar instances mentioned by Plautus; and violence and debauchery seem almost to have reigned paramount in the streets at night.
42. Committed upon her)—Ver. 401. Colman makes a valid point here: “it’s quite surprising that Myrrhina’s account of the harm done to her daughter doesn’t remind Pamphilus of his own situation, which is revealed in the Fifth Act. It's clear that if the Poet had shared that secret with the Audience here, they would have instantly realized that Pamphilus’s wife and the woman he assaulted were the same person.” Playwrights have never really concerned themselves much with probability in their stories, regardless of the time or place. Plus, his encounter with Philumena was hardly unique. We see similar cases mentioned by Plautus; violence and debauchery seem to have been rampant in the streets at night.
43. Thirty days or more)—Ver. 421. In his voyage from Imbros to Athens, namely, which certainly appears to have been unusually long.
43. Thirty days or more)—Ver. 421. During his journey from Imbros to Athens, which clearly seems to have taken an unusually long time.
44. To the citadel)—Ver. 431. This was the fort or citadel that defended the Piræus, and being three miles distant from the city, was better suited for the design of Pamphilus, whose object it was to keep Parmeno for some time at a distance.
44. To the citadel)—Ver. 431. This was the fort or citadel that protected the Piraeus and, being three miles away from the city, was a better fit for Pamphilus's plan, which aimed to keep Parmeno away for a while.
45. He would rupture me)—Ver. 435. He facetiously pretends to think that Pamphilus may, during a storm at sea, have vowed to walk him to death, if he should return home.
45. He would break me)—Ver. 435. He jokingly suggests that Pamphilus might have promised to walk him to death during a storm at sea, if he were to make it back home.
46. Regardful of a parent)—Ver. 448. Colman observes here: “This reflection seems to be rather improper in this place, for the discovery of Philumena’s labor betrayed to Pamphilus the real motive of her departure; after which discovery his anxiety proceeds entirely from the supposed injury offered him, and his filial piety is from that period made use of merely as a pretense.”
46. Considering a parent)—Ver. 448. Colman remarks here: “This thought feels out of place, as Philumena’s labor revealed to Pamphilus the true reason for her leaving; after this revelation, his worry comes solely from the perceived harm done to him, and from that point on, his respect for his parent is just a cover.”
47. He lived well)—Ver. 461. This is living well in the sense used by the “Friar of orders gray.” “Who leads a good life is sure to live well.”
47. He lived well)—Ver. 461. This means living well in the way described by the “Friar of orders gray.” “Anyone who lives a good life is bound to live well.”
48. Brought home nothing more)—Ver. 462. Colman remarks that this passage is taken notice of by Donatus as a particularly happy stroke of character; and indeed the idea of a covetous old man gaping for a fat legacy, and having his mouth stopped by a moral precept, is truly comic.
48. Brought home nothing more)—Ver. 462. Colman notes that this passage is highlighted by Donatus as a particularly clever depiction of character; and the concept of a greedy old man eagerly anticipating a hefty inheritance, only to have his desires blocked by a moral teaching, is genuinely humorous.
49. Pay back her portion)—Ver. 502. As was universally done on a separation by agreement.
49. Pay back her portion)—Ver. 502. As was commonly done upon a separation by mutual agreement.
50. At the right time)—Ver. 531. Lemaire observes that, from this passage, it would appear that the Greeks considered seven months sufficient for gestation. So it would appear, if we are to take the time of the Play to be seven, and not nine, months after the marriage; and, as before observed, the former seems to be the more reasonable conclusion.
50. At the right time)—Ver. 531. Lemaire notes that, based on this passage, it seems the Greeks thought seven months was enough for pregnancy. This makes sense if we assume the events of the Play take place seven, not nine, months after the marriage; and, as previously mentioned, the former conclusion seems more reasonable.
51. A ring which)—Ver. 574. Colman remarks that this preparation for the catastrophe by the mention of the ring, is not so artful as might have been expected from Terence; as in this soliloquy he tells the circumstances directly to the Audience.
51. A ring that)—Ver. 574. Colman notes that this setup for the disaster through the mention of the ring isn't as clever as one might expect from Terence; in this soliloquy, he directly shares the details with the audience.
52. And festive days)—Ver. 592. “Festos dies.” The days for sacrificing to particular Divinities, when she would have the opportunity of meeting her friends, and making herself merry with them.
52. And festive days)—Ver. 592. “Festos dies.” The days for celebrating specific gods, when she would get the chance to hang out with her friends and enjoy herself with them.
53. Look forward with impatience to my death)—Ver. 596. Colman says: “This idea of the long life of a step-mother being odious to her family, is applied in a very beautiful and uncommon manner by Shakspeare:—
53. Can't wait for my death)—Ver. 596. Colman says: “This concept of a stepmother living a long life being unpleasant for her family is expressed in a very beautiful and unique way by Shakespeare:—
“Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
“Now, beautiful Hippolyta, our wedding hour
Draws on apace; for happy days bring in
Draws near quickly; for happy days bring in
Another morn; but oh, methinks how slow
Another morning; but oh, I think how slow
This old morn wanes! she lingers my desires
This old morning drags on! She prolongs my desires.
Like to a step-dame, or a dowager,
Like a stepmother, or an older woman,
Long withering out a young man’s revenue.”
Long diminishing a young man’s income.”
Midsummer Night’s Dream.
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
54. The old man and the old woman)—Ver. 621. “Senex atque anus.” In these words he probably refers to the commencement of many of the stories current in those times, which began: “There were once upon a time an old man and an old woman.” Indeed, almost the same words occur in the Stichus of Plautus, l. 540, at the commencement of a story: “Fuit olim, quasi ego sum, senex,” “There was upon a time an old man, just like me.”
54. The old man and the old woman)—Ver. 621. “Senex atque anus.” In these words, he likely refers to the beginning of many stories popular during that time, which often started: “Once upon a time, there was an old man and an old woman.” In fact, nearly the same phrase appears in the Stichus by Plautus, l. 540, at the start of a tale: “Fuit olim, quasi ego sum, senex,” “There was once an old man, just like me.”
55. Still take the child)—Ver. 638. In cases of separation it was customary for the father to have the care of the male children.
55. Still take the child)—Ver. 638. In cases of separation, it was typical for the father to take care of the sons.
56. But should you like)—Ver. 725. Donatus observes that Phidippus utters these words with an air of disinclination to be present at the conference; and, indeed, the characters are well sustained, as it would not become him coolly to discourse with a courtesan, whom he supposes to have alienated Pamphilus from his daughter, although he might very properly advise it, as being likely to conduce to the peace of both families.
56. But if you prefer)—Ver. 725. Donatus notes that Phidippus says this with a reluctance to be at the meeting; and, in fact, the characters are well portrayed, as it wouldn’t be right for him to casually talk with a courtesan, who he believes has turned Pamphilus away from his daughter, even though he might rightly suggest it, as it could help settle things for both families.
57. Kept Pamphilus at a distance)—Ver. 752. Colman observes, how are we to reconcile this with the words of Parmeno at the beginning of the Play, where he says that Pamphilus visited Bacchis daily; and he inquires whether we are to suppose that Bacchis, who behaves so candidly in every other instance, wantonly perjures herself in this, or that the Poet, by a strange infatuation attending him in this Play, contradicts himself? To this it may be answered, that as Bacchis appears to be so scrupulous in other instances, it is credible that, notwithstanding his visits, she may not have allowed him to share her embraces.
57. Kept Pamphilus at a distance)—Ver. 752. Colman notes, how do we explain this alongside Parmeno's statement at the start of the play, where he claims that Pamphilus visited Bacchis every day? He questions whether we should believe that Bacchis, who acts so honestly in all other situations, intentionally lies about this, or if the Poet, in an odd lapse of judgment in this play, contradicts himself? In response, it can be argued that since Bacchis seems to be so careful in other contexts, it’s believable that, despite his visits, she might not have let him be with her.
58. Other courtesans avoid doing)—Ver. 777. Colman has the following quotation from Donatus: “Terence, by his uncommon art, has attempted many innovations with great success. In this Comedy, he introduces, contrary to received prejudices, a good step-mother and an honest courtesan; but at the same time he so carefully assigns their motives of action, that by him alone every thing seems reconcilable to truth and nature; for this is just the opposite of what he mentions in another place, as the common privilege of all Poets, ‘to paint good matrons and wicked courtesans.’” Perhaps the same good feeling prompted Terence, in showing that a mother-in-law and a courtesan could be capable of acting with good and disinterested feelings, which caused Cumberland to write his Play of “The Jew,” to combat the popular prejudice against that persecuted class, by showing, in the character of Sheva, that a Jew might possibly be a virtuous man.
58. Other courtesans avoid doing)—Ver. 777. Colman has the following quote from Donatus: “Terence, with his remarkable skill, has tried many innovations with great success. In this comedy, he introduces, against common beliefs, a decent stepmother and an honest courtesan; however, he carefully explains their motivations, making everything seem in line with truth and nature. This is the opposite of what he mentions elsewhere as the usual privilege of all poets, ‘to depict good matrons and wicked courtesans.’” Perhaps the same good intention drove Terence to show that a mother-in-law and a courtesan could act with kindness and selflessness, which inspired Cumberland to write his play "The Jew," challenging the widespread prejudice against that marginalized group by portraying Sheva as a character who might be a virtuous man.
59. Have been unjustly suspected)—Ver. 778. The words here employed are also capable of meaning, if an active sense is given to “suspectas,” “our wives have entertained wrong suspicions;” but the sense above given seems preferable, as being the meaning of the passage.
59. Have been unjustly suspected)—Ver. 778. The words used here can also mean, if we interpret “suspectas” in an active sense, “our wives have had false suspicions.” However, the interpretation given above seems to be more fitting as it reflects the meaning of the passage.
60. Run with all speed)—Ver. 809. Donatus remarks, that Parmeno is drawn as being of a lazy and inquisitive character; and that Terence, therefore, humorously contrives to keep him always on the move, and in total ignorance of what is going on.
60. Run with all speed)—Ver. 809. Donatus notes that Parmeno is portrayed as lazy and curious; and that Terence, therefore, cleverly ensures he is always on the go, completely unaware of what is happening.
61. Surcharged with wine)—Ver. 824. Cooke has this remark here: “I suppose that this is the best excuse the Poet could make for the young gentleman’s being guilty of felony and rape at the same time. In this speech, the incident is related on which the catastrophe of the Play turns, which incident is a very barbarous one, and attended with more than one absurdity, though it is the occasion of an agreeable discovery.”
61. Intoxicated)—Ver. 824. Cooke has this comment here: “I guess this is the best excuse the Poet could come up with for the young man's involvement in both theft and sexual assault at the same time. In this speech, the event is described on which the main plot of the Play revolves, which is quite brutal and includes more than one ridiculous element, although it leads to a pleasant revelation.”
62. In the Comedies)—Ver. 867.—Madame Dacier observes on this passage: “Terence here, with reason, endeavors to make the most of a circumstance peculiar to his Play. In other Comedies, every body, Actors as well as Spectators, are at last equally acquainted with the whole intrigue and catastrophe, and it would even be a defect in the plot were there any obscurity remaining. But Terence, like a true genius, makes himself superior to rules, and adds new beauties to his piece by forsaking them. His reasons for concealing from part of the personages of the Drama the principal incident of the plot, are so plausible and natural, that he could not have followed the beaten track without offending against manners and decency. This bold and uncommon turn is one of the chief graces of the Play.”
62. In the Comedies)—Ver. 867.—Madame Dacier comments on this passage: “Terence rightly tries to make the most of a unique aspect of his play. In other comedies, everyone, both the actors and the audience, ultimately understands the entire plot and conclusion, and it would actually be a flaw in the storyline if any mystery remained. But Terence, being a true genius, rises above the rules and enhances his work by breaking them. His reasons for keeping the main plot twist hidden from some characters in the drama are so reasonable and natural that it would have been contrary to decorum and propriety to follow the usual route. This bold and unusual approach is one of the main strengths of the play.”
63. From the shades below)—Ver. 876. Parmeno says this, while pondering upon the meaning of all that is going on, and thereby expresses his impatience to become acquainted with it. He therefore repeats what Pamphilus has before said in the twelfth line of the present Act, about his having been restored from death to life by his agency.
63. From the shadows below)—Ver. 876. Parmeno says this while reflecting on what’s happening, showing his eagerness to understand it all. He then repeats what Pamphilus mentioned earlier in the twelfth line of this Act about being brought back from death to life through his help.
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PHORMIO;
OR, THE SCHEMING PARASITE
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Demipho,1 Demipho, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chremes,2 Chremes, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ |
Aged Athenians, brothers. Elder Athenians, brothers. |
Antipho,3 son of Demipho. Antipho, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Demipho. Phædria,4 son of Chremes. Phædria, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ son of Chremes. Phormio,5 a Parasite. Phormio, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a freeloader. Geta,6 servant of Demipho. Geta, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ servant of Demipho. Davus,7 a servant. Davus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a worker. |
|
Hegio,8 Hegio, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cratinus,9 Cratinus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Crito,10 Crito, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ |
Advocates. Supporters. |
Dorio,11 a Procurer. Dorio, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ a Supplier. Nausistrata,12 the wife of Chremes. Nausistrata, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Chremes' wife. Sophrona,13 the nurse of Phanium. Sophrona, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ the nurse of Phanium. |
Scene.—Athens; before the houses of Demipho, Chremes, and Dorio.
Scene.—Athens; in front of the houses of Demipho, Chremes, and Dorio.
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THE SUBJECT.
Chremes and Demipho are two aged Athenians, brothers. Nausistrata, the wife of Chremes, is a wealthy woman, possessed of large estates in the island of Lemnos. Chremes, who goes thither yearly to receive the rents, meets with a poor woman there, whom he secretly marries, and has by her a daughter called Phanium: while engaged in this intrigue, Chremes passes at Lemnos by the name of Stilpho. By his wife, Nausistrata, at Athens, Chremes has a son, named Phædria, and his brother has a son, named Antipho. Phanium having now arrived at her fifteenth year, the two brothers privately agree that she shall be brought to Athens and married to Antipho. For this purpose, Chremes goes to Lemnos, while Demipho is obliged to take a journey to Cilicia. On departing, they leave their sons in the care of Geta, one of Demipho’s servants. Shortly afterward, Phædria falls in love with a Music-girl, but, from want of means, is unable to purchase her from her owner. In the mean time, the Lemnian wife of Chremes, urged by poverty, embarks for Athens, whither she arrives with her daughter and her nurse. Here they inquire for Stilpho, but in vain, as they can not find any one of that name. Shortly after, the mother dies, and Antipho, seeing Phanium by accident, falls in love with her. Being wishful to marry her, he applies to Phormio, a Parasite, for his advice. The latter hits upon the following scheme: there being a law at Athens, which obliges the next-of-kin to female orphans, either to marry them or give them a portion, the Parasite pretends that he is a friend of Phanium, and insists that Antipho is her nearest relation, and is consequently bound to marry her. Antipho is summoned before a court of justice, and it being previously arranged, allows judgment to be given against himself, and immediately marries Phanium. Shortly after, the old men return upon the same day, and are much vexed, the one on finding that his son has married a woman without a fortune, the other that he has lost the opportunity of getting his daughter advantageously married. In the mean time, Phædria being necessitated to raise some money to purchase the Music-girl, Geta and Phormio arrange that the former shall pretend to the old man that Phormio has consented to take back the woman whom Antipho has married, if Demipho will give her a portion of thirty minae. Demipho borrows the money of Chremes, and pays it to Phormio, who hands it over to Phædria, and Phædria to Dorio, for his mistress. At this conjuncture, it becomes known who Phanium really is, and the old men are delighted to find that Antipho has married the very person they wished. They attempt, however, to get back the thirty minae from Phormio, and proceed to threats and violence. On this, Phormio, who has accidentally learned the intrigue of Chremes with the woman of Lemnos, exposes him, and relates the whole story to his wife, Nausistrata; on which she censures her husband for his bad conduct, and the Play concludes with her thanks to Phormio for his information.
Chremes and Demipho are two elderly Athenians, brothers. Nausistrata, Chremes' wife, is a wealthy woman with large estates on the island of Lemnos. Chremes travels there every year to collect the rents and ends up secretly marrying a poor woman, with whom he has a daughter named Phanium. While involved in this affair, Chremes goes by the name of Stilpho in Lemnos. With Nausistrata in Athens, Chremes has a son named Phædria, and his brother has a son named Antipho. Now that Phanium is fifteen, the two brothers secretly agree to bring her to Athens to marry Antipho. For this, Chremes heads to Lemnos, while Demipho has to travel to Cilicia. Before leaving, they entrust their sons to Geta, one of Demipho’s servants. Shortly after, Phædria falls in love with a Music-girl but can’t afford to buy her from her owner. Meanwhile, Chremes' Lemnian wife, facing poverty, sets off for Athens with her daughter and nurse. They look for Stilpho but can’t find anyone by that name. Soon after, the mother dies, and Antipho accidentally sees Phanium and falls in love with her. Wanting to marry her, he asks Phormio, a parasite, for advice. Phormio comes up with a plan: since there's a law in Athens requiring relatives of female orphans to either marry them or provide them with a portion, he pretends to be a friend of Phanium and claims that Antipho is her nearest relative and must marry her. Antipho is summoned to court and, having agreed beforehand, allows judgment to go against him and immediately marries Phanium. Soon after, the old men return on the same day and are upset—one finds out that his son married a woman without a fortune, while the other realizes he missed the chance to marry off his daughter advantageously. Meanwhile, Phædria needs to raise money to buy the Music-girl, and Geta and Phormio plan for Geta to pretend to the old man that Phormio has agreed to return the woman Antipho married if Demipho gives her a portion of thirty minae. Demipho borrows the money from Chremes and pays it to Phormio, who then gives it to Phædria, and Phædria pays Dorio for his mistress. At this point, it is revealed who Phanium really is, and the old men are thrilled to discover that Antipho has married the very person they wanted. However, they try to reclaim the thirty minae from Phormio and resort to threats and violence. In response, Phormio, who has inadvertently learned about Chremes’ affair with the woman from Lemnos, exposes him and tells his wife, Nausistrata, everything. She scolds her husband for his wrongdoing, and the play ends with her thanking Phormio for the information.
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THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Roman Games,14 L. Posthumius Albinus and L. Cornelius Merula being Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio and L. Atilius Prænestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to a base and a treble flute. It is wholly from the Greek, being the Epidicazomenos of Apollodorus. It was represented four times,15 C. Fannius and M. Valerius being Consuls.16
Performed at the Roman Games, 14 L. Posthumius Albinus and L. Cornelius Merula being Curule Aediles. L. Ambivius Turpio and L. Atilius Prænestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music for a bass and a treble flute. It is entirely from the Greek, being the Epidicazomenos of Apollodorus. It was presented four times, 15 C. Fannius and M. Valerius being Consuls. 16
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PHORMIO;
OR, THE SLY PARASITE
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
Demipho, the brother of Chremes, has gone abroad, his son Antipho being left at Athens. Chremes has secretly a wife and a daughter at Lemnos, another wife at Athens, and an only son, who loves a Music-girl. The mother arrives at Athens from Lemnos, and there dies. The girl, her orphan daughter, (Chemes being away,) arranges the funeral. After Antipho has fallen in love with her when seen there, through the aid of the Parasite he receives her as his wife. His father and Chremes, having now returned, begin to be enraged. Afterward they give thirty minæ to the Parasite, that he may take her as his own wife. With this money the Music-girl is bought for Phædria. Antipho then keeps his wife, who has been recognized by his uncle.
Demipho, Chremes' brother, has gone abroad, leaving his son Antipho in Athens. Chremes secretly has a wife and a daughter in Lemnos, another wife in Athens, and an only son who is in love with a music girl. The mother arrives in Athens from Lemnos and dies there. The girl, her orphaned daughter, arranges the funeral while Chremes is away. After Antipho sees her and falls in love, he gets help from the Parasite to marry her. When his father and Chremes return, they get angry. Later, they give thirty minæ to the Parasite so he can take her as his own wife. With this money, the music girl is bought for Phædria. Antipho then keeps his wife, who has been recognized by his uncle.
THE PROLOGUE.
Since the old Poet17 can not withdraw our bard from his pursuits and reduce him to indolence, he endeavors, by invectives, to deter him from writing: for he is wont to say to this effect,—that the Plays which he has hitherto composed are poor in their language, and of meagre style: because he has nowhere described a frantic youth as seeing a hind in flight, and the hounds pursuing; while he implores18 and 305 entreated that he would give her aid. But if he had been aware that his Play, when formerly first represented, stood its ground more through the merits of the performers than its own, he would attack with much less boldness than he does. Now, if there is any one who says or thinks to this effect, that if the old Poet had not assailed him first, the young one could have devised no Prologue for him to repeat, without having some one to abuse, let him receive this for an answer: “that the prize is proposed in common to all who apply to the Dramatic art.” He has aimed at driving our Poet from his studies to absolute want; he then has intended this for an answer, not an attack. If he had opposed him with fair words, he would have heard himself civilly addressed; what has been given by him, let him consider as now returned. I will make an end of speaking about him, when, of his own accord, he himself makes an end of offending. Now give your attention to what I request. I present you a new play, which they call “Epidicazomenos,”19 in Greek: in the Latin, he calls it “Phormio;” because the person that acts the principal part is Phormio, a Parasite, through whom, principally, the plot will be carried on, if your favor attends the Poet. Lend your attention; in silence give an ear with impartial feelings, that we may not experience a like fortune to what we did, when, through a tumult, our Company was driven from the place;20 which place, the merit of the actor, and your good-will and candor seconding it, has since restored unto us.
Since the old Poet17 can’t pull our bard away from his work and make him lazy, he tries to scare him off writing with harsh words. He often says that the Plays he has written so far are poorly worded and lack style: because he hasn’t shown a young man who, seeing a fleeing deer, is desperately asking for help from her. But if he had realized that his Play, when it was first performed, succeeded more because of the actors than its own quality, he would criticize with far less confidence. Now, if anyone believes that if the old Poet hadn't attacked him first, the young one wouldn't have been able to come up with any Prologue without someone to insult, let them hear this: “the prize is open to everyone interested in the Dramatic art.” He aimed to drive our Poet away from his studies to total poverty; he then intended this as a response, not as an insult. If he had approached him with kind words, he would have been addressed politely; what he has given should now be considered returned. I will stop talking about him when he chooses to stop offending. Now, please listen to what I have to say. I present to you a new play, which they call “Epidicazomenos,”19 in Greek; in Latin, it’s called “Phormio;” because the main character is Phormio, a Parasite, through whom the story will mainly unfold if you support the Poet. Please give your attention; listen quietly and fairly, so we don’t end up with the same fate as before when our Company was forced out;20 that place, thanks to the skill of the actors and your goodwill and kindness, has since been returned to us.
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ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Davus,21 with a bag of money in his hand.
Enter Davus, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ holding a money bag.
Dav. Geta, my very good friend and fellow-townsman, came to me yesterday. There had been for some time a trifling balance of money of his in my hands upon a small account; he asked me to make it up. I have done so, and am carrying it to him. But I hear that his master’s son has taken a wife; this, I suppose, is scraped together as a present for her. How unfair a custom!—that those who have the least should always be giving something to the more wealthy! That which the poor wretch has with difficulty spared, ounce by ounce, out of his allowance,22 defrauding himself of every indulgence, the whole of it will she carry off, without thinking with how much labor it has been acquired. And then besides, Geta will be struck23 for another present24 when his mistress is brought to bed; and then again for another present, when the child’s birthday comes; when they initiate him,25 too: all this the mother will carry off; the child will only be the pretext for the present. But don’t I see Geta there?
Dav. Geta, my good friend and fellow townsman, came to see me yesterday. There’s been a small amount of his money in my hands for a while now; he asked me to settle it. I’ve done that and am on my way to give it to him. But I hear that his master's son has gotten married; I assume this money is meant as a gift for her. What an unfair practice!—that those with the least always have to give something to those who are wealthier! The little that the poor guy has managed to save, bit by bit, from his meager allowance, 22 denying himself every luxury, will all go to her without her considering how hard it was to earn. And then, when his mistress has a baby, Geta will be pressured 23 to give another gift 24 and again when the child's birthday comes around; it will be the same when they have the initiation 25: all this will be taken by the mother; the child will just be an excuse for the gift. But don't I see Geta over there?
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Scene II.
Enter Geta, from the house of Demipho.
Enter Geta, from the house of Demipho.
Geta (at the door, to those within.) If any red-haired man should inquire for me—
Geta sandals (at the door, to those inside.) If any red-haired guy asks for me—
Dav. (stepping forward.) Here he is, say no more.
Dav. (stepping forward.) Here he is, that's all we need to say.
Geta (starting.) Oh! Why I was trying to come and meet you, Davus.
Geta sandals (starting.) Oh! I was just trying to come and meet you, Davus.
Dav. (giving the money to Geta.) Here, take it; it’s all ready counted out;26 the number just amounts to the sum I owed you.
Dav. (handing the money to Geta.) Here, take it; it’s all counted out; 26 the total is exactly what I owed you.
Geta. I am obliged to you; and I return you thanks for not having forgotten me.
Geta sandals. I appreciate you, and I'm grateful that you haven't forgotten about me.
Dav. Especially as people’s ways are nowadays; things are come to such a pass, if a person repays you any thing, you must be greatly obliged to him. But why are you out of spirits?
Dav. Especially considering how people are these days; things have gotten to the point that if someone pays you back anything, you should be really grateful to them. But why do you seem down?
Geta. What, I? You little know what terror and peril I am in.
Geta sandals. What, me? You have no idea the fear and danger I'm facing.
Dav. What’s the matter?
Dav. What's wrong?
Geta. You shall know, if you can only keep it secret.
Geta sandals. You should know, if you can just keep it under wraps.
Dav. Out upon you, simpleton; the man, whose trustworthiness you have experienced as to money, are you afraid to intrust with words? In what way have I any interest in deceiving you?
Dav. Come on, you fool; the man you know you can trust with money, are you scared to trust with words? What reason do I have to deceive you?
Geta. Well then, listen.
Geta. Okay, listen up.
Dav. I give you my best attention.
Dav. I'm all in for you.
Geta. Davus, do you know Chremes, the elder brother of our old gentleman?
Geta shoes. Davus, do you know Chremes, the older brother of our old man?
Dav. Why should I not?
Dav. Why shouldn't I?
Geta. Well, and his son Phædria?
Geta. Well, and his son Phædria?
Dav. As well as your own self.
Just like you.
Geta. It so happened to both the old gentlemen, just at the same period, that the one had to take a journey to Lemnos, and our old man to Cilicia, to see an old acquaintance; he tempted over the old man by letters, promising him all but mountains of gold.
Geta sandals. It just so happened that both old gentlemen, around the same time, had to travel; one had to go to Lemnos, and our old man had to go to Cilicia to visit an old friend. He lured the old man with letters, promising him nearly mountains of gold.
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Dav. To one who had so much property, that he had more than he could use?
Dav. To someone who owned so much that they had more than they could actually use?
Geta. Do have done; that is his way.
Geta sandals. He has done it; that's just how he is.
Dav. Oh, as for that, I really ought to have been a man of fortune.
Dav. Oh, about that, I really should have been a wealthy man.
Geta. When departing hence, both the old gentlemen left me as a sort of tutor to their sons.
Geta sandals. When leaving here, both of the older gentlemen left me as a kind of tutor for their sons.
Dav. Ah, Geta, you undertook a hard task there.
Dav. Ah, Geta, you took on a tough job there.
Geta. I came to experience it, I know that. I’m quite sure that I was forsaken by my good Genius, who must have been angry with me.27 I began to oppose them at first; but what need of talking? As long as I was trusty to the old men, I was paid for it in my shoulder-blades. This, then, occurred to my mind: why, this is folly to kick against the spur.28 I began to do every thing for them that they wished to be humored in.
Geta shoes. I came to realize it, I know that. I’m pretty sure my good spirit abandoned me, probably because it was mad at me.27 I initially tried to fight back; but what’s the point in talking? As long as I remained loyal to the old men, it just ended up hurting my back. Then it occurred to me: why go against the tide? 28 I started to do everything they wanted to please them.
Geta. Our young fellow did no mischief whatever at first; that Phædria at once picked up a certain damsel, a Music-girl, and fell in love with her to distraction. She belonged to a most abominable Procurer; and their fathers had taken good care that they should have nothing to give him. There remained nothing for him then but to feed his eyes, to follow her about, to escort her to the school,30 and to escort her back again. We, having nothing to do, lent our aid to Phædria. Near the school at which she was taught, right opposite the 309 place, there was a certain barber’s shop: here we were generally in the habit of waiting for her, until she was coming home again. In the mean time, while one day we were sitting there, there came in a young man in tears;31 we were surprised at this. We inquired what was the matter? “Never,” said he, “has poverty appeared to me a burden so grievous and so insupportable as just now. I have just seen a certain poor young woman in this neighborhood lamenting her dead mother. She was laid out before her, and not a single friend, acquaintance, or relation was there with her, except one poor old woman, to assist her in the funeral: I pitied her. The girl herself was of surpassing beauty.” What need of a long story? She moved us all. At once Antipho exclaims, “Would you like us to go and visit her?” The other said, “I think we ought—let us go—show us the way, please.” We went, and arrived there; we saw her; the girl was beautiful, and that you might say so the more, there was no heightening to her beauty; her hair disheveled, her feet bare, herself neglected, and in tears; her dress mean, so that, had there not been an excess of beauty in her very charms, these circumstances must have extinguished those charms. The one who had lately fallen in love with the Music-girl said: “She is well enough;” but our youth—
Geta. Our young fellow did no mischief at first; then Phædria immediately noticed a certain girl, a Music-girl, and fell head over heels for her. She was under the thumb of a really awful Procurer; and their fathers had made sure they had nothing to give him. So, he was left with nothing to do but admire her from a distance, follow her around, and walk her to school, 30 and back again. With nothing better to do, we helped Phædria out. Near the school where she studied, right across from the spot, there was a barbershop: we usually waited there for her to come home. One day, while we were sitting there, a young man came in, crying; 31 we were taken aback. We asked him what was wrong. “Never,” he said, “has poverty felt as heavy and unbearable as it does right now. I just saw a poor young woman in this neighborhood mourning her dead mother. She was laid out before her, and not a single friend, acquaintance, or relative was there with her, except for one poor old woman to help with the funeral: I felt for her. The girl herself was stunning.” What need for a long story? She touched us all. Instantly, Antipho exclaims, “Want us to go and visit her?” The other said, “I think we should—let's go—show us the way, please.” We went and arrived there; we saw her; the girl was beautiful, and to emphasize her beauty even more, there was no enhancement to it; her hair was a mess, her feet were bare, she looked neglected and was in tears; her clothes were shabby, so that, if it weren't for her overwhelming beauty, those circumstances would have dimmed her charms. The one who had just fallen for the Music-girl said: “She’s alright;” but our youth—
Dav. I know it already—fell in love with her.
Dav. I already know—I'm in love with her.
Geta. Can you imagine to what an extent? Observe the consequence. The day after, he goes straight to the old woman; entreats her to let him have her: she, on the other hand, refuses him, and says that he is not acting properly; that she is a citizen of Athens, virtuous, and born of honest parents: that if he wishes to make her his wife, he is at liberty to do so according to law; but if otherwise, she gives him a refusal. Our youth was at a loss what to do. He was both eager to marry her, and he dreaded his absent father.
Geta sandals. Can you imagine how far this goes? Look at the result. The next day, he goes straight to the old woman and asks her to let him have her. But she refuses and tells him that he's not behaving properly; that she is a citizen of Athens, virtuous, and comes from respectable parents: that if he wants to marry her, he can do so legally; but if not, she turns him down. Our youth didn't know what to do. He was eager to marry her, but he was also afraid of his father, who was away.
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Dav. Would not his father, if he had returned, have given him leave?
Dav. If his father had come back, wouldn’t he have allowed him to?
Geta. He let him marry a girl with no fortune, and of obscure birth! He would never do so.
Getas. He allowed him to marry a girl with no money and of unknown origins! He would never do that.
Dav. What came of it at last?
Dav. What happened in the end?
Geta. What came of it? There is one Phormio here, a Parasite, a fellow of great assurance; may all the Gods confound him!
Geta sandals. What happened with that? There’s this guy Phormio here, a leech, really confident; may all the gods curse him!
Dav. What has he done?
Dav. What did he do?
Geta. He has given this piece of advice, which I will tell you of. “There is a law, that orphan girls are to marry those who are their next-of-kin; and the same law commands such persons to marry them. I’ll say you are the next-of-kin, and take out a summons32 against you; I’ll pretend that I am a friend of the girl’s father; we will come before the judges: who her father was, who her mother, how she is related to you—all this I’ll trump up, just as will be advantageous and suited to my purpose; on your disproving none of these things, I shall prevail, of course. Your father will return; a quarrel will be the consequence; what care I? She will still be ours.”
Geta sandals. He shared this piece of advice, which I’ll tell you about. “There’s a law that orphan girls must marry their closest relatives; and that same law requires these relatives to marry them. I’ll say you’re the closest relative and take out a summons32 against you; I’ll pretend to be a friend of the girl’s father. We’ll go before the judges: who her father was, who her mother is, how she’s related to you—all of this I’ll make up, just to suit my needs; since you can’t prove any of it wrong, I’ll win, of course. Your father will come back; there will be a fight over it; what do I care? She will still be ours.”
Dav. An amusing piece of assurance!
Dav. A funny bit of confidence!
Geta. He was persuaded to this. It was carried out; they came into court: we were beaten. He has married her.
Geta sandals. He was convinced to do this. It happened; they came into court: we were defeated. He has married her.
Dav. What is it you tell me?
Dav. What are you saying?
Geta. Just what you have heard.
Geta. Exactly what you heard.
Dav. O Geta, what will become of you?
Dav. Oh Geta, what's going to happen to you?
Geta. Upon my faith, I don’t know; this one thing I do know, whatever fortune may bring, I’ll bear it with firmness.
Geta sandals. Honestly, I don’t know; this one thing I do know, no matter what happens, I’ll handle it with strength.
Dav. You please me; well, that is the duty of a man.
Dav. You make me happy; well, that's what a man should do.
Geta. All my hope is in myself.
I totally believe in myself.
Dav. I commend you.
Dav. I applaud you.
Geta. Suppose I have recourse to some one to intercede for me, who will plead for me in these terms: “Pray, do forgive him this time; but if after this he does any thing, I make no entreaty:” if only he doesn’t add, “When I’ve gone, e’en kill him for my part.”
Geta sandals. Let’s say I ask someone to vouch for me, and they say: “Please, forgive him this time; but if he does anything again, I won’t say another word.” As long as they don’t add, “Once I’m gone, feel free to do whatever you want to him.”
Dav. What of the one who was usher to the Music-girl?33
Dav. What about the one who took the Music-girl in?33
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Geta (shrugging his shoulders.) So so, but poorly.
Geta (shrugging his shoulders.) Not great, but okay.
Dav. Perhaps he hasn’t much to give.
Dav. Maybe he doesn’t have much to offer.
Geta. Why, really, nothing at all, except mere hopes.
Geta sandals. Honestly, nothing at all, just some empty hopes.
Dav. Is his father come back or not?
Dav. Has his father returned or not?
Geta. Not yet.
Geta. Not yet.
Dav. Well, when do you expect your old man?
Dav. So, when do you think your dad will be home?
Geta. I don’t know for certain; but I just now heard that a letter has been brought from him, and has been left with the officers of the customs: I’m going to fetch it.
Geta sandals. I’m not sure, but I just heard that a letter has arrived from him and is with the customs officers. I’m going to get it.
Dav. Is there any thing else that you want with me, Geta?
Dav. Is there anything else you need from me, Geta?
Geta. Nothing; but that I wish you well. (Exit Davus.) Hark you, boy (calling at the door). Is nobody coming out here? (A Lad comes out.) Take this, and give it to Dorcium.
Geta. Nothing; but I just want you to be well. (Exit Davus.) Hey, boy (calling at the door). Is anyone coming out here? (A Dude comes out.) Take this and give it to Dorcium.
He gives the purse to the Lad, who carries it into Demipho’s house and exit Geta.
He hands the purse to the Dude, who takes it into Demipho’s house and exits with Geta shoes.
Scene III.
Enter Antipho and Phædria.
Enter Antipho and Phædria.
Ant. That things should have come to such a pass, Phædria, that I should be in utter dread of my father, who wishes me so well, whenever his return comes into my thoughts! Had I not been inconsiderate, I might have waited for him, as I ought to have done.
Ant. It's unbelievable that I've come to this point, Phædria, where I'm completely afraid of my father, who means so well for me, every time I think about his return! If I hadn't been so thoughtless, I could have waited for him like I should have.
Phæd. What’s the matter?
Phæd. What's wrong?
Ant. Do you ask the question? You, who have been my confederate in so bold an adventure? How I do wish it had never entered the mind of Phormio to persuade me to this, or to urge me in the heat of my passion to this step, which is the source of my misfortunes. Then I should not have obtained her; in that case I might have been uneasy for some few days; but still, this perpetual anxiety would not have been tormenting my mind (touching Phædria).
Ant. Are you really asking me that? You, who have been my partner in such a daring adventure? I really wish Phormio had never suggested this or pushed me in the heat of my emotions to take this step, which has caused all my troubles. If only I hadn’t won her over; then I might have felt uneasy for a few days, but at least this constant worry wouldn’t be tormenting my mind (referring to Phædria).
Phæd. I hear you.
I hear you.
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Ant. While I am every moment expecting his return, who is to sever from me this connection.34
Ant. While I’m waiting for him to come back any minute, who’s going to break this connection for me?34
Phæd. Other men feel uneasiness because they can not gain what they love; you complain because you have too much. You are surfeited with love, Antipho. Why, really, upon my faith, this situation of yours is surely one to be coveted and desired. So may the Gods kindly bless me, could I be at liberty to be so long in possession of the object of my love, I could contentedly die. Do you, then, form a judgment as to the rest, what I am now suffering from this privation, and what pleasure you enjoy from the possession of your desires; not to mention how, without any expense, you have obtained a well-born and genteel woman, and have got a wife of unblemished reputation: happy you, were not this one thing wanting, a mind capable of bearing all this with moderation. If you had to deal with that Procurer with whom I have to deal, then you would soon be sensible of it. We are mostly all of us inclined by nature to be dissatisfied with our lot.
Phaedrus. Other guys feel restless because they can't get what they want; you’re complaining because you have too much. You’re overwhelmed with love, Antipho. Honestly, if I could be in the position you’re in, I’d consider myself lucky. If I could enjoy the company of the person I love for that long, I’d be happy to take my last breath. Think about what I’m going through because I’m missing out, and compare it to the joy you get from having what you want. Not to mention, without any cost, you’ve managed to get a classy and well-bred woman for a wife with a spotless reputation: lucky you, if only you had the ability to handle it all with some moderation. If you had to deal with that Procurer I’m stuck with, you’d quickly understand how it feels. We are all naturally prone to be unhappy with our circumstances.
Ant. Still, on the other hand, Phædria, you now seem to me the fortunate man, who still have the liberty, without restraint, of resolving on what pleases you best: whether to keep, to love on, or to give her up. I, unfortunately, have got myself into that position, that I have neither right35 to give her up, nor liberty to retain her. But how’s this? Is it our Geta I see running this way? ’Tis he himself. Alas! I’m dreadfully afraid what news it is he’s now bringing me.
Ant. Still, on the other hand, Phædria, you seem like the lucky one. You have the freedom to choose what makes you happy: whether to keep her, to continue loving her, or to let her go. Unfortunately, I find myself in a position where I have neither the right 35 to let her go nor the freedom to keep her. But wait, is that our Geta I see coming this way? It’s him. Oh no! I’m really worried about what news he’s bringing me.
Scene IV.
Enter Geta, running, at the other side of the stage.
Enter Geta (Japanese sandals), running, on the other side of the stage.
Geta (to himself.) Geta, you are undone, unless you instantly find out some expedient; so suddenly do such mighty evils now threaten me thus unprepared, which I neither know how to shun, nor how to extricate myself therefrom; for this 313 daring step of ours can not now any longer be kept a secret. If such a result is not adroitly guarded against, these matters will cause the ruin of myself, or of my master.
Geta (traditional Japanese footwear) (to himself.) Geta, you’re in trouble unless you quickly figure something out; these huge problems are threatening me out of nowhere, and I don’t know how to avoid them or get myself out of this situation. This 313 bold move of ours can't stay hidden anymore. If I don’t handle this carefully, it could ruin either me or my boss.
Ant. (to Phædria.) Why, I wonder, is he coming in such fright?
Ant. (to Phaedria.) I’m curious, why is he coming in so scared?
Geta (to himself.) Besides, I’ve but a moment left for this matter—my master’s close at hand.
Geta (to himself.) Besides, I only have a moment left for this—my master is just around the corner.
Ant. (to Phædria.) What mischief is this?
Ant. (to Phædria.) What's going on?
Geta (to himself.) When he comes to hear of it, what remedy shall I discover for his anger? Am I to speak? I shall irritate him: be silent? I shall provoke him: excuse myself? I should be washing a brickbat.36 Alas! unfortunate me! While I am trembling for myself, this Antipho distracts my mind. I am concerned for him; I’m in dread for him: ’tis he that now keeps me here; for had it not been for him, I should have made due provision for my safety, and have taken vengeance on the old man for his crabbedness; I should have scraped up something, and straightway taken to my heels away from here.
Geta (to himself.) When he finds out about this, what can I do to fix his anger? Should I speak up? That would just irritate him. Stay quiet? That would annoy him. Make excuses? I might as well be washing a brick. 36 Ugh! Poor me! While I'm worrying about myself, this Antipho is driving me crazy. I’m worried about him; I’m scared for him: it’s him who’s keeping me here now. If it weren't for him, I would have made sure to look after my own safety and gotten back at the old man for being so grumpy. I would have figured something out and gotten out of here in a hurry.
Ant. (to Phædria.) I wonder what running away or theft it is that he’s planning.
Ant. (to Phædria.) I’m curious about what kind of escape or theft he’s planning.
Geta (to himself.) But where shall I find Antipho, or which way go look for him?
Geta (to himself.) But where can I find Antipho, or which way should I look for him?
Phæd. (to Antipho.) He’s mentioning your name.
Phæd. (to Antipho.) He's saying your name.
Ant. (to Phædria.) I know not what great misfortune I expect to hear from this messenger.
Ant. (to Phædria.) I can’t imagine what bad news this messenger is bringing.
Phæd. (to Antipho.) Why, are you in your senses?
PhD. (to Antipho.) Are you out of your mind?
Geta (to himself.) I’ll make my way homeward; he’s generally there.
Geta (to himself.) I’ll head home; he’s usually there.
Phæd. (to Antipho.) Let’s call the fellow back.
Phæd. (to Antipho.) Let's get him back.
Ant. (calling out.) Stop, this instant.
Ant. (calling out.) Stop right now.
Geta (turning round.) Heyday—with authority enough, whoever you are.
Geta (turning around.) Hey there—with enough authority, whoever you are.
Ant. Geta!
Geta!
Geta. The very person I wanted to find.
Geta sandals. The exact person I was looking for.
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Ant. Pray, tell me what news you bring and dispatch it in one word, if you can.
Ant. Please, tell me what news you have, and keep it to one word, if you can.
Geta. I’ll do so.
Geta. I’ll definitely do that.
Ant. Out with it.
Ant. Spit it out.
Geta. Just now, at the harbor—
Geta. Just now, at the port—
Ant. What, my father—?
Ant. What, my dad—?
Geta. You’ve hit it.
Geta. You’ve nailed it.
Ant. Ruined outright!
Ant. Completely ruined!
Phæd. Pshaw!
Phæd. Whatever!
Ant. What am I to do?
Ant. What should I do?
Phæd. (to Geta.) What is it you say?
Phæd. (to Geta.) What did you just say?
Geta. That I have seen his father, your uncle.
Geta sandals. I’ve seen his dad, your uncle.
Ant. How am I, wretch that I am, now to find a remedy for this sudden misfortune? But if it should be my fortune, Phanium, to be torn away from you, life would cease to be desirable.
Ant. How am I, miserable as I am, supposed to find a solution for this sudden disaster? But if it’s my fate, Phanium, to be separated from you, then life wouldn’t be worth living.
Geta. Therefore, Antipho, since matters are thus, the more need have you to be on your guard; fortune helps the brave.
Geta. So, Antipho, since things are like this, you really need to be cautious; luck favors the bold.
Ant. I am not myself.
I’m not myself.
Geta. But just now it is especially necessary you should be so, Antipho; for if your father perceives that you are alarmed, he will think that you have been guilty of some fault.
Geta. But right now it’s really important for you to act this way, Antipho; because if your father sees that you’re worried, he’ll assume you’ve done something wrong.
Phæd. That’s true.
Phæd. That's right.
Ant. I can not change.
Ant. I can’t change.
Geta. What would you do, if now something else still more difficult had to be done by you?
Geta sandals. What would you do if you had to tackle something even more challenging now?
Ant. As I am not equal to this, I should be still less so to the other.
Ant. Since I can’t handle this, I definitely wouldn’t be able to handle the other.
Geta. This is doing nothing at all, Phædria, let’s be gone; why do we waste our time here to no purpose. I shall be off.
Geta sandals. This is pointless at all, Phædria. Let’s leave; why are we wasting our time here for no reason? I’m out of here.
Phæd. And I too. (They move as if going.)
Phaedrus. Me too. (They act like they're leaving.)
Ant. Pray, now, if I assume an air, will that do? (He endeavors to assume another air.)
Ant. Look, if I put on a different attitude, will that work? (He tries to adopt a different demeanor.)
Geta. You are trifling.
Geta. You're being ridiculous.
Ant. Look at my countenance—there’s for you. (Assuming a different air.) Will that do?
Ant. Check out my face—there you go. (Switching to a different attitude.) Is that good enough?
Geta. No.
Geta. No.
Ant. Well, will this? (Assuming another air.)
Ant. So, will this? (Taking on a different tone.)
Geta. Pretty well.
Geta. Doing pretty well.
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Ant. Well then, this? (Assuming a still bolder air.)
Ant. Alright, so this? (Taking on a more confident demeanor.)
Geta. That’s just the thing. There now, keep to that, and answer him word for word, like for like; don’t let him, in his anger, disconcert you with his blustering words.
Geta sandals. That’s exactly it. Now, stick to that, and respond to him exactly, word for word; don’t let him, in his anger, throw you off with his loud talk.
Ant. I understand.
Got it.
Geta. Say that you were forced against your will by law, by sentence of the court; do you take me? (Looking earnestly in one direction.) But who is the old man that I see at the end of the street?
Geta sandals. Tell me that you were compelled by law, by a court ruling; do you understand me? (Looking intently in one direction.) But who is that old man I see at the end of the street?
Ant. ’Tis he himself. I can not stand it. (Going.)
Ant. It’s really him. I can’t take it. (Leaving.)
Geta. Oh! What are you about? Whither are you going, Antipho? Stop, I tell you.
Geta sandals. Oh! What are you doing? Where are you headed, Antipho? Stop, I’m telling you.
Ant. I know my own self and my offense; to your management I trust Phanium and my own existence.
Ant. I know who I am and what I've done; I trust Phanium and my own life to your care.
Exit hastily.
Leave quickly.
Scene V.
Phædria and Geta.
Phædria and Geta.
Phæd. Geta, what’s to be done now?
Phaedrus. Geta, what should we do now?
Geta. You will just hear some harsh language: I shall be trussed up and trounced, if I am not somewhat mistaken. But what we were just now advising Antipho to do, the same we must do ourselves, Phædria.
Geta sandals. You’re going to hear some strong language: I’ll be tied up and beaten if I’m not at least a bit wrong. But what we just advised Antipho to do, we need to do ourselves, Phædria.
Phæd. Away with your “musts;” rather do you command me what I am to do.
Phaedrus. Forget your “musts;” just tell me what you want me to do.
Geta. Do you remember what were your words formerly on our entering upon this project, with the view of protecting yourselves from ill consequences—that their cause was just, clear, unanswerable, and most righteous?
Geta sandals. Do you remember what you said before we started this project, aiming to shield yourselves from negative outcomes—that the reason behind it was just, clear, undeniable, and completely right?
Phæd. I remember it.
I remember it.
Geta. Well then, now there’s need of that plea, or of one still better and more plausible, if such there can be.
Geta sandals. Alright, now we need that plea, or something even better and more convincing, if that's possible.
Phæd. I’ll use my best endeavors.
Phæd. I’ll do my best.
Geta. Do you then accost him first; I’ll be here in reserve,37 by way of reinforcement, if you give ground at all.
Geta sandals. So, you go up to him first; I’ll be here as backup, just in case you need support at all.
Phæd. Very well.
Phæd. Alright.
They retire to a distance.
They move away.
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Scene VI.
Enter Demipho, at the other side of the stage.
Enter Demipho from the other side of the stage.
Dem. (to himself.) And is it possible that Antipho has taken a wife without my consent? and that no authority of mine—but let alone “authority”38—no displeasure of mine, at all events, has he been in dread of? To have no sense of shame! O audacious conduct! O Geta, rare adviser!
Dem. (to himself.) Is it really possible that Antipho has married without my permission? And that he hasn’t feared any authority of mine—but forget about “authority”38—he hasn't even worried about my disapproval? To have no sense of shame! What bold behavior! O Geta, what a gem of an adviser!
Geta (apart to Phædria.) Just brought in at last.
Geta (apart to Phædria.) Just arrived at last.
Dem. What will they say to me, or what excuse will they find? I wonder much.
Dem. What are they going to say to me, or what excuse will they come up with? I really wonder.
Geta (apart.) Why, I’ve found that out already; do think of something else.
Geta sandals (apart.) I already figured that out; think of something else.
Dem. Will he be saying this to me: “I did it against my will; the law compelled me?” I hear you, and admit it.
Dem. Is he going to say to me: “I did it against my will; the law forced me?” I hear you, and I admit it.
Geta (apart.) Well said!
Geta (apart.) Well said!
Dem. But knowingly, in silence, to give up the cause to his adversaries—did the law oblige him to do that as well?
Democrat. But did the law require him to intentionally and silently surrender the case to his opponents?
Geta (apart.) That is a hard blow.
Geta (apart.) That's a tough hit.
Phæd. I’ll clear that up; let me alone for that.
Phaedrus. I'll take care of that; just give me a moment for that.
Dem. It is a matter of doubt what I am to do; for beyond expectation, and quite past all belief, has this befallen me. So enraged am I, that I can not compose my mind to think upon it. Wherefore it is the duty of all persons, when affairs are the most prosperous,39 then in especial to reflect within themselves in what way they are to endure adversity. Returning from abroad, let him always picture to himself dangers and losses, either offenses committed by a son, or the death of his wife, or the sickness of a daughter,—that these things are the common lot, so that no one of them may ever come as a surprise upon his feelings. Whatever falls out beyond his hopes, all that he must look upon as so much gain.
Dem. I'm really unsure about what to do. What has happened to me is beyond what I expected and hard to believe. I'm so angry that I can't focus my mind to think about it. That's why everyone should, especially when things are going well, take time to reflect on how they'll handle tough times. When coming back from a trip, he should always remind himself of potential dangers and losses, whether it's a son's misbehavior, the death of his wife, or a daughter's illness—these are all part of life, so nothing should catch him off guard. Whatever happens beyond his expectations, he should see it as a bonus.
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Geta (apart.) O Phædria, it is incredible how much I surpass my master in wisdom. All my misfortunes have been already calculated upon by me, upon my master coming home. I must grind at the mill, be beaten, wear fetters, be set to work in the fields; not one individual thing of these will happen unexpected by my mind. Whatever falls out beyond my expectations, all that I shall look upon as so much gain. But why do you hesitate to accost him, and soften him at the outset with fair words?
Geta (apart.) Oh Phædria, it’s amazing how much smarter I am than my master. I’ve already thought through all the misfortunes that will come once my master gets home. I’ll have to grind at the mill, get beaten, wear chains, and work in the fields; I’ve anticipated every single one of these things. Anything that happens beyond my expectations, I’ll just see as a bonus. But why are you holding back from talking to him and starting off with some kind words?
Phædria goes forward to accost Demipho.
Phædria approaches Demipho.
Dem. (to himself.) I see Phædria, my brother’s son, coming toward me.
Dem. (to himself.) I see Phædria, my brother’s son, coming my way.
Phæd. My uncle, welcome!
Phæd. Hey Uncle, welcome!
Dem. Greetings to you; but where is Antipho?
Dem. Hey, where's Antipho?
Phæd. That you have arrived in safety——
Phaedrus. I'm glad you made it here safely——
Dem. I believe it; answer my question.
Dem. I believe you; just answer my question.
Phæd. He is well; he’s close at hand; but is every thing quite to your wishes?
Phaedrus. He’s doing well; he’s nearby; but is everything exactly how you want it?
Dem. I wish it was so, indeed.
Dem. I really wish that were true.
Phæd. What’s the matter?
Phæd. What's wrong?
Dem. Do you ask me, Phædria? You people have cooked up a fine marriage in my absence.
Dem. Are you asking me, Phædria? You guys have planned a great wedding while I wasn't around.
Phæd. What now, are you angry with him for that?
Phaedrus So, are you upset with him for that?
Geta (apart.) What a clever contriver!
Geta (apart.) What a smart planner!
Dem. Have I not reason to be angry with him? I long for him to come into my sight, that he may know that through his faultiness, from being a mild father, I am become a most severe one.
Dem. Shouldn't I be angry with him? I can't wait for him to come into view so he can see that because of his mistakes, I've gone from being a gentle father to a very strict one.
Phæd. But he has done nothing, uncle, for which you should blame him.
Phaedrus. But he hasn't done anything, uncle, that you should blame him for.
Dem. Now, do look at that; all alike; all hanging together; when you know one, you know all.
Dem. Wow, check that out; they're all the same; all sticking together; once you know one, you know them all.
Phæd. That is not the case.
Phæd. That's not true.
Dem. When the one is in fault, the other is at hand to defend him; when it is the other, then he is ready; they just help one another by turns.
Dem. When one person is in the wrong, the other is right there to defend them; when it’s the other way around, then they’re ready; they just take turns helping each other out.
Geta (apart.) The old man, without knowing it, has exactly described their proceedings.
Geta (apart.) The old man, unknowingly, has perfectly described what they’re doing.
Dem. For if it had not been so, you would not, Phædria, have stood up for him.
Dem. Because if it weren't true, you wouldn't have defended him, Phædria.
Phæd. If, uncle, it is the fact, that Antipho has been 318 guilty of any fault, in consequence of which he has been too regardless of his interest or his reputation, I would not allege any reason why he should not suffer what he deserves. But if some one by chance, relying upon his own artfulness, has laid a snare for our youthful age, and has succeeded, is it our fault or that of the judges, who often, through envy, take away from the rich, or, through compassion, award to the poor?
Phaedrus. If, uncle, it is true that Antipho has made any mistakes that caused him to care too little about his interests or his reputation, I wouldn’t argue against him facing the consequences he deserves. But if someone, relying on their cleverness, has set a trap for our youth and succeeded, is it our fault or the judges', who often, out of envy, take from the wealthy or, out of compassion, give to the needy?
Geta (apart.) Unless I knew the case, I could fancy he was saying the truth.
Geta (apart.) If I didn’t know the situation, I could believe he was telling the truth.
Dem. Is there any judge who can possibly know your rights, when you yourself don’t answer a word—as he has done?
Dem. Is there any judge who could even know your rights when you don't say a single word—like he has?
Phæd. He acted the part of an ingenuous young man; after they had come before the judges, he was not able to say what he had intended, so much did his modesty confuse him there through his bashfulness.
PhD. He played the role of a sincere young man; after they had appeared before the judges, he couldn't express what he meant, as his modesty overwhelmed him due to his shyness.
Geta (apart.) I commend him: but why do I hesitate at once to accost the old man? (Going forward to Demipho.) Master, welcome to you! I’m glad to see you safe returned.
Geta (aside.) I praise him: but why do I hesitate to approach the old man? (Going over to Demipho.) Sir, it's good to see you! I'm happy to see you back safe.
Dem. (ironically.) Ah, excellent guardian! save you, stay of my family, no doubt, to whom, at my departure, I intrusted my son.
Dem. (ironically.) Ah, great protector! Thank you for being the safeguard of my family, without a doubt, to whom I entrusted my son when I left.
Geta. For some minutes past I’ve heard you accusing all of us undeservedly; and me the most undeservedly of them all; for what would you have had me do for you in this affair? The laws do not allow a person who is a slave to plead; nor is there any giving evidence40 on his part.
Geta shoes. For a while now, I've been hearing you unfairly blame all of us, and me the most unfairly of all. What did you expect me to do for you in this situation? The laws don't allow a slave to make a case, nor can they provide evidence40 on their behalf.
Dem. I grant all that: I admit this too—the young man, unused to courts, was bashful; I allow it: you, too, are a slave: still, if she was ever so near a relative, it was not necessary for him to marry her, but as the law enjoins, you might have given her a portion;41 she could have looked out for another husband. Why, then, in preference, did he bring a pauper home?
Dem. I agree with all of that: I acknowledge this too—the young man, not used to the court, was shy; I accept that: you, also are a slave: still, even if she was closely related, it wasn’t necessary for him to marry her. As the law requires, you could have given her a dowry; 41 she could have sought another husband. So then, why did he choose to bring home someone with no money?
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Geta. No particular reason; but he hadn’t the money.
Geta sandals. No specific reason; but he didn’t have the money.
Dem. He might have borrowed it from some person or other.
Dem. He might have borrowed it from someone.
Geta. From some person or other? Nothing more easily said.
Geta sandals. From someone or other? Nothing could be simpler to say.
Dem. After all, if on no other terms, on interest.
Dem. After all, if for no other reason, then for profit.
Geta. Aye, aye, fine talking; as if any one would have trusted him, while you were living.42
Geta sandals. Yeah, sure, easy to say; as if anyone would have trusted him while you were alive.42
Dem. No, it shall not be so; it must not be. Ought I to allow her to remain with him as his wife a single day? She merits no indulgence. I should like this fellow to be pointed out to me, or to be shown where he lives.
Dem. No, that can't happen; it won't happen. Should I really let her stay with him as his wife for even one day? She deserves no mercy. I would like someone to point this guy out to me or show me where he lives.
Geta. Phormio, do you mean?
Geta. You mean Phormio?
Geta. I’ll have him here immediately.
Geta. I’ll get him here now.
Dem. Where is Antipho at present?
Dem. Where is Antipho right now?
Geta. Away from home.
Geta. Out of town.
Dem. Go, Phædria, look for him, and bring him here.
Dem. Go, Phædria, find him and bring him here.
Phæd. I’ll go straightway to the place.
Phæd. I’m on my way.
Geta (aside.) To Pamphila, you mean.
Geta (aside.) You mean Pamphila.
Exeunt Phædria and Geta.
Exeunt Phædria and Geta.
Scene VII.
Demipho, alone.
Demipho, by himself.
Dem. (to himself.) I’ll just step home to salute the household Gods.44 From there, I’ll go to the Forum, and summon 320 some of my friends to give me their assistance in this affair; so that I may not be unprepared, when Phormio comes.
Dem. (to himself.) I’ll just head home to greet the household gods.44 After that, I’ll go to the Forum and gather some friends to help me out with this situation so that I’m ready when Phormio arrives.
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.
Enter Phormio and Geta.
Enter Phormio and Geta.
Phor. And so you say45 that, dreading his father’s presence, he has taken himself off?
Pharmacy. So you're saying that, afraid of his father being around, he has left?
Geta. Exactly so.
Geta. Right on.
Phor. That Phanium is left alone?
Phor. Is that Phanium alone?
Geta. Just so.
Geta. Exactly.
Phor. And that the old man is in a rage?
Phor. Is the old man really angry?
Geta. Extremely so.
Geta. Very much so.
Phor. The whole business, Phormio, rests on yourself alone; you yourself have hashed it up;46 it must all be swallowed by yourself, so set about it.
Pharmaceutical. The entire situation, Phormio, depends only on you; you’re the one who messed it up; 46 you have to take responsibility for it, so get to work.
Geta. I entreat you——
Geta. Please——
Phor. (to himself.) If he inquires.
Phor. (to himself.) If he asks.
Geta. In you is all our hope.
Geta. In you is all our hope.
Phor. (to himself.) Look at this, now:—What if he sends her back?
Pharmacy. (to himself.) Check this out:—What if he sends her back?
Geta. It was you that urged us.
Geta sandals. You were the one who encouraged us.
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Phor. (to himself.) I think that will do.
Pharmacy. (to himself.) I think that's enough.
Geta. Do help us.
Geta. Please help us.
Phor. (with alacrity.) Let the old gentleman come; all my plans are now ready prepared in my mind.
Pharmacy. (enthusiastically.) Let the old man come; I’ve got everything figured out in my mind now.
Geta. What will you do?
Geta. What are you going to do?
Phor. What would you have me? But that Phanium may continue with him, and that I may clear Antipho from this charge, and turn upon myself47 all the wrath of the old gentleman?
Pharmacy. What do you want from me? I just want Phanium to stay with him, and for me to clear Antipho of this accusation, even if it means taking all the old man's anger upon myself.
Geta. O brave and kind man! But, Phormio, I often dread lest this courage may end in the stocks at last.48
Geta. O brave and kind man! But, Phormio, I often worry that this courage might end up getting us in trouble in the end.48
Phor. Oh, by no means; I’ve made trial, and have already pondered on the paths for my feet. How many men before to-day do you suppose I have beaten, even to death, strangers as well as citizens: the better I understand it, the oftener I try it. Just tell me, look you, did you ever hear of an action of damages being brought against me?
Pharmacy. No way; I've tried and thought about where I'm going. How many guys do you think I've taken down, even killed, both strangers and locals? The more I get it, the more I go for it. Just tell me, have you ever heard of someone suing me for damages?
Geta. How is that?
Geta. How's that?
Phor. Because the net is never spread for the hawk or the kite, that do us the mischief; it is spread for those that do us none: because in the last there is profit, while with the others it is labor lost. For persons, out of whom any thing can be got, there’s risk from others; they know that I’ve got nothing. You will say: “They will take you,49 when sentenced, into their house;” they have no wish to maintain a devouring fellow; and, in my opinion, they are wise, if for an injury they are unwilling to return the highest benefits.
Phor. The net is never set for the hawk or the kite, who cause us harm; it’s set for those who don’t. There's a benefit to the latter, while the former just means wasted effort. For people, from whom something can be gained, there’s a risk from others; they know I have nothing. You might say, “They'll take you,49 when sentenced, into their home;” but they don’t want to take care of a burden. Honestly, I think they’re smart for not wanting to repay an offense with their greatest kindness.
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Geta. It’s impossible that sufficient thanks can be returned you by him for your kindness.
Geta sandals. There's no way he could ever thank you enough for your kindness.
Phor. Why no; no person can return thanks sufficient to his patron50 for his kindness. For you to take your place at table at free cost,51 anointed and just washed at the bath, with your mind at ease, whereas he is devoured with the care and expense: while every thing is being done to give you delight, he is being vexed at heart; you are laughing away, first to drink,52 take the higher place; a banquet full of doubts53 is placed before you—
Pharmacy. No, no one can thank his patron enough for their kindness. While you enjoy a meal at no cost, all cleaned up and relaxed after the bath, your mind at ease, he is burdened with worry and expense. As everything is done to please you, he is troubled inside; you’re laughing it up, eager to drink and take the best seat; a banquet filled with uncertainties is laid out before you—
Geta. What is the meaning of that expression?
Geta. What's that expression mean?
Phor. When you are in doubt which in especial to partake of. When you enter upon a consideration how delicious these things are, and how costly they are, the person who provides them, must you not account him a very God—neither more nor less?
Phosphor. When you're unsure which one to choose. As you think about how tasty these things are and how expensive they are, can't you consider the person who provides them as a kind of deity—no more, no less?
Geta. The old man is coming; take care what you are about; the first onset is the fiercest; if you stand that, then, afterward, you may play just as you please.
Geta sandals. The old man is on his way; be careful with what you do; the initial attack is the hardest; if you can handle that, then after that, you can do as you wish.
They retire to a distance.
They move to a distance.
Scene II.
Enter, at a distance, Demipho, Hegio, Cratinus, and Crito, following him.
Enter, from a distance, Demipho, Hegio, Cratinus, and Crito, following him.
Dem. Well now—did you ever hear of an injury being done to any person in a more affronting manner than this has to me? Assist me, I do beg of you.
Dem. Seriously—have you ever heard of someone being insulted in a more disrespectful way than this? Please help me, I’m begging you.
Geta (apart.) He’s in a passion.
Geta (apart.) He’s very emotional.
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Phor. (apart.) Do you mind your cue; I’ll rouse him just now. (Stepping forward and crying aloud.) Oh immortal Gods! does Demipho deny that Phanium here is related to him?
Pharmacy. (aside.) Watch your cue; I’ll wake him up now. (Stepping forward and shouting.) Oh immortal Gods! does Demipho really deny that Phanium here is his relative?
Geta. He does deny it.
Geta. He denies it.
Dem. (to his friends.) I believe it is the very man I was speaking about. Follow me.
Dem. (to his friends.) I think this is the exact guy I was talking about. Follow me.
They all come forward.
They all step up.
Phor. (to Geta.) And that he knows who her father was?
PhD. (to Geta sandals.) And does he know who her father was?
Geta. He does deny it.
Geta. He denies it.
Phor. And that he knows who Stilpho was?
Phor. And does he know who Stilpho was?
Geta. He does deny it.
Geta. He denies it.
Phor. Because the poor thing was left destitute, her father is disowned; she herself is slighted: see what avarice does.
Pharaoh. Because the poor thing was left without anything, her father is cut off; she herself is treated poorly: see what greed does.
Geta (in a loud voice.) If you are going to accuse my master of avarice, you shall hear what you won’t like.
Geta (in a loud voice.) If you're going to accuse my master of being greedy, you’re about to hear something you won’t want to hear.
Dem. Oh, the impudence of the fellow! Does he come on purpose to accuse me?
Dem. Oh, the nerve of that guy! Is he really here just to accuse me?
Phor. For really, I have no reason why I should be offended at the young man, if he did not know him; since that person, when growing aged and poor, and supporting himself by his labor, generally confined himself to the country; there he had a piece of land from my father to cultivate; full oft, in the mean time, did the old man tell me that this kinsman of his neglected him: but what a man? The very best I ever saw in all my life.
Phor. Honestly, I have no reason to be upset with the young man if he didn’t know him. That person, as he got older and poorer, relied on his work and mostly stayed in the countryside. He had a piece of land from my father to farm. Many times, the old man would tell me how this relative of his ignored him. But what a man! The very best I’ve ever seen in my life.
Geta (in a loud voice.) Look to yourself as well as to him, how you speak.
Platform sandals (in a loud voice.) Pay attention to how you speak, not just to him.
Phor. (with affected indignation.) Away, to utter perdition, with you. For if I had not formed such an opinion of him, I should never have incurred such enmity with your family on her account, whom he now slights in such an ungenerous manner.
Phor. (with fake outrage.) Go away, straight to ruin, with you. If I hadn’t thought so highly of him, I would never have faced such hostility from your family because of her, the one he now treats so poorly.
Geta (aloud.) What, do you persist in speaking abusively of my master in his absence, you most abominable fellow?
Geta (aloud.) What, are you still insulting my master while he’s not here, you absolutely terrible person?
Phor. Why, it’s just what he deserves.
Phor. Why, it’s exactly what he deserves.
Geta (aloud.) Say you so, you jail-bird?
Geta (aloud.) Is that what you’re saying, you ex-con?
Dem. (calling aloud.) Geta!
Geta!
Geta (aloud.) A plunderer of people’s property—a perverter of the laws!
Geta (Japanese sandals) (loudly.) A thief of people's belongings—a corrupter of the law!
Dem. (calling aloud.) Geta!
Geta!
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Phor. (apart, in a low voice.) Answer him.
Phor. (to himself, quietly.) Respond to him.
Geta. Who is it? (Looking round.) Oh!——
Geta. Who's there? (Looking around.) Oh!——
Dem. Hold your peace.
Dem. Be quiet.
Geta. He has never left off uttering abuse against you behind your back, unworthy of you, and just befitting himself.
Geta sandals. He has never stopped talking trash about you behind your back, which is unworthy of you and fits him perfectly.
Dem. Well now, have done. (Addressing Phormio.) Young man, in the first place, with your good leave, I ask you this, if you may possibly be pleased to give me an answer: explain to me who this friend of yours was, that you speak of, and how he said that he was related to me.
Dem. Alright, let's get to the point. (Speaking to Phormio.) Hey, can I ask you something? Would you be willing to tell me who this friend of yours is that you mentioned, and how he claims to be related to me?
Phor. (sneeringly.) You are fishing it out, just as if you didn’t know.
Pharaoh. (with a sneer.) You’re pretending to fish it out, like you don’t already know.
Dem. I, know?
Dem. I know?
Phor. Yes.
Phor. Yeah.
Dem. I say I do not; you, who affirm it, recall it to my recollection.
Dem. I say I don't; you, who insist on it, are bringing it back to my memory.
Phor. Come now, didn’t you know your own cousin-german?
Pharmacy. Come on, didn’t you know your own cousin?
Dem. You torture me to death; tell me his name.
Dem. You're driving me crazy; just tell me his name.
Phor. His name?
Phor. What's his name?
Dem. Of course. (Phormio hesitates.) Why are you silent now?
Dem. Of course. (Phormio hesitates.) Why are you quiet now?
Phor. (aside.) Heavens, I’m undone; I’ve forgot the name.
Pharaoh. (aside.) Wow, I’m in trouble; I’ve forgotten the name.
Dem. Well, what do you say?
Dem. So, what do you think?
Phor. (aside, to Geta.) Geta, if you recollect the name I told you a short time since, prompt me. (Aloud, to Demipho.) Well then, I sha’n’t tell you; as if you didn’t know, you come to pump me.
Pharmacy. (aside, to Geta.) Geta, remember the name I mentioned a little while ago? Refresh my memory. (Aloud, to Demipho.) Anyway, I won’t tell you; as if you didn’t know, you’ve come here to pry it out of me.
Dem. I, come to pump you, indeed?
Dem. I'm here to question you, really?
Geta. (whispering to Phormio.) Stilpho.
Geta. (whispering to Phormio.) Stilpho.
Phor. But, after all, what matters that to me? It is Stilpho.
Pharmacy. But, after all, what does that matter to me? It's Stilpho.
Dem. Whom did you say?
Who did you say?
Phor. Stilpho, I tell you; you knew him.
Pharmacy. Stilpho, I'm telling you; you knew him.
Dem. I neither know him, nor had I ever any relation of that name.
Dem. I don't know him, and I've never had any connection to anyone by that name.
Phor. Say you so? Are you not ashamed of this? But if he had left you ten talents——
Pharmacy. Is that what you think? Aren't you embarrassed by this? But if he had given you ten talents—
Dem. May the Gods confound you!
May the gods mess with you!
Phor. You’d have been the first, from memory, to trace 325 your line of kindred, even as far back as from grandfather and great-grandfather.
Pharmaceutical. You would have been the first, as far back as I can remember, to trace your family line, all the way back to your grandfather and great-grandfather. 325
Dem. Very likely what you say. In that case, when I had undertaken it, I should have shown how she was related to me; do you do the same: tell me, how is she related to me?
Dem. You're probably right. In that case, when I took it on, I should have explained how she's related to me; now you do the same: tell me, how is she related to me?
Geta. Well done, my master, that’s right! (Threateningly to Phormio.) Hark you, take you care.
Geta sandals. Good job, my master, that’s right! (Threateningly to Phormio.) Listen up, you better watch out.
Phor. I’ve already made the matter quite plain where I ought, before the judges; besides, if it was untrue, why didn’t your son disprove it?
Pharmacy. I've already made the situation clear where it matters, in front of the judges; besides, if it wasn't true, why didn't your son prove it wrong?
Dem. Do you talk about my son to me? Of whose folly there is no speaking in the language it deserves.
Dem. Are you really talking to me about my son? It's a foolishness that's beyond words to describe properly.
Phor. Then do you, who are so wise, go to the magistrates, that for you they may give a second decision in the same cause, since you reign alone54 here, and are the only man allowed to get a second trial in the same cause.
Pharmaceutical. So, you who are so knowledgeable, should go to the magistrates and ask them to give you a second decision on the same matter, since you have complete authority here and are the only person permitted to get a second trial in the same case.
Dem. Although wrong has been done me, still, however, rather than engage in litigation, or listen to you, just as though she had been my relation, as the law orders one to find her a portion, rid me of her, and take five minæ.
Dem. Even though I’ve been wronged, I’d rather not go to court or listen to you, treating her like she’s family, as the law requires that she gets her share. Just get her off my hands and give me five minæ.
Phor. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! a pleasant individual!
Phor. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! What a nice person!
Dem. Well! am I asking any thing unfair? Or am I not to obtain even this, which is my right at common law?
Dem. Well! Am I asking for anything unreasonable? Or am I not entitled to even this, which is my right under common law?
Phor. Pray, really is it so, that when you have abused her like a courtesan, the law orders you to pay her hire and pack her off? Or is it the fact, that in order that a citizen may bring no disgrace upon herself through poverty, she has been ordered to be given to her nearest relative, to pass her life with him alone? A thing which you mean to prevent.
Pharmacy. Seriously, is it true that after treating her like a prostitute, the law requires you to compensate her and send her away? Or is it that to prevent a citizen from being shamed by poverty, she’s supposed to be handed over to her closest relative to live with him? That’s what you’re trying to stop.
Dem. Yes, to her nearest relative, indeed; but why to us, or on what ground?
Dem. Yes, to her closest relative, for sure; but why us, or what reason is there?
Phor. Well, well, a thing tried, they say, you can’t try over again.
Pharaoh. Well, well, they say once something's been tried, you can't try it again.
Dem. Not try it? On the contrary, I shall not desist until I have gone through with it.
Dem. Not try it? On the contrary, I won't stop until I've seen it through.
Phor. You are trifling.
Phor. You're wasting your time.
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Dem. Only let me alone for that.
Dem. Just let me be for that.
Phor. In short, Demipho, I have nothing to do with you; your son has been cast, and not you; for your time of life for marrying has now gone by.
Pharmaceutical. In short, Demipho, I have nothing to do with you; your son is the one who's been rejected, not you; because the time for you to get married has passed.
Dem. Consider that it is he that says to you all I now say, or else assuredly, together with this wife of his, I’ll be forbidding him the house.
Dem. Keep in mind that it’s him who’s saying everything I’m saying to you now, or else I’ll definitely be banning him from the house along with his wife.
Geta (aside.) He’s in a passion.
Geta (aside.) He’s really into it.
Phor. You’ll be acting more considerately.
Phor. You’ll be more considerate.
Dem. Are you so resolved, you unlucky fellow, to do me all the mischief you can?
Dem. Are you really set on causing me as much trouble as possible, you poor guy?
Phor. (aside, to Geta.) He’s afraid of us, although he’s so careful to conceal it.
Phora. (aside, to Geta.) He’s scared of us, even though he goes to great lengths to hide it.
Geta (aside, to Phormio.) Your beginning has turned out well.
Geta (Japanese sandals) (aside, to Phormio.) Your start has gone really well.
Phor. But if, on the contrary, you endure what must be endured, you’ll be doing what’s worthy of you, so that we may be on friendly terms.
Phor. But if, on the other hand, you tolerate what needs to be tolerated, you’ll be acting in a way that’s admirable, so that we can stay on good terms.
Dem. (indignantly.) What, I seek your friendship, or have any wish to see or hear you?
Dem. (angrily.) What? Do I want your friendship or actually wish to see or hear you?
Phor. If you can agree with her, you will have some one to cheer up your old age; just consider your time of life.
Pharmaceutical. If you can see eye to eye with her, you’ll have someone to brighten your old age; just think about where you are in life.
Dem. Let her cheer up yourself; keep her to yourself.
Dem. Let her lift her spirits; keep her to yourself.
Phor. Really, do moderate your passion.
Phor. Seriously, tone down your passion.
Dem. Mark what I say. There have been words enough already; if you don’t make haste to fetch away the woman, I shall turn her out: I have said it, Phormio.
Dem. Listen to what I say. We've talked enough already; if you don’t hurry to get the woman, I will get rid of her myself: I've said it, Phormio.
Phor. If you use her in any other manner than is befitting a free-born woman, I shall be bringing a swinging action against you: I have said it, Demipho. (To Geta.) Hark you, if there should be any occasion for me, I shall be at home.
PhD. If you treat her in any way that's inappropriate for a free woman, I will take legal action against you: I mean it, Demipho. (To Geta (clogs).) Listen, if there's ever a reason for me, I will be at home.
Geta (apart.) I understand you.
I get you.
Exit Phormio.
Exit Phormio.
Scene III.
Demipho, Hegio, Cratinus, Crito, and Geta.
Demipho, Hegio, Cratinus, Crito, and Geta.
Dem. What care and anxiety my son does bring upon me, by entangling himself and me in this same marriage! And he doesn’t so much as come into my sight, that at least I might know what he says about this matter, or what his 327 sentiments are. (To Geta.) Be off, go see whether he has returned home or not by this.
Dem. The worry and stress my son brings me by getting both of us mixed up in this marriage! And he doesn’t even show up so I can know what he thinks about this whole thing or what his feelings are. (To Geta.) Go on, check if he’s come back home yet.
Geta. I will.
Sure thing.
Goes into the house.
Enters the house.
Dem. (to the Assistants.) You see how the case stands. What am I to do? Tell me, Hegio.
Dem. (to the Assistants.) You see what's going on here. What should I do? Tell me, Hegio.
Heg. What, I? I think Cratinus ought, if it seems good to you.
Heg. What, me? I think Cratinus should, if that's what you think is best.
Dem. Tell me, Cratinus.
Dem. Tell me, Cratinus.
Crat. What, do you wish me to speak? I should like you to do what is most for your advantage; it is my opinion, that what this son of yours has done in your absence, in law and justice ought to be annulled; and that you’ll obtain redress. That’s my opinion.
Crat. What, do you want me to talk? I think you should do what's best for you. In my opinion, what your son did while you were away should be canceled, and you should get justice. That's how I see it.
Dem. Say now, Hegio.
Dem. Say now, Hegio.
Heg. I believe that he has spoken with due deliberation; but it is the fact, “as many men, so many minds;”55 every one his own way. It doesn’t appear to me that what has been done by law can be revoked; and it is wrong to attempt it.
Hegemony. I think he has spoken carefully; but it's true, "so many people, so many opinions;"55 everyone has their own perspective. It seems to me that what has been established by law cannot be undone, and it's wrong to try.
Dem. Speak, Crito.
Dem. Go ahead, Crito.
Crit. I am of opinion that we must deliberate further;56 it is a matter of importance.
Crit. I think we need to think about this more;56 it's really important.
Heg. Do you want any thing further with us?
Heg. Do you want anything else from us?
Dem. You have done very well. (Exeunt Assistants.) I am much more at a loss57 than before.
Dem. You did a great job. (Exeunt Helpers.) I'm feeling even more confused than I was before.
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Re-enter Geta, from the house.
Re-enter Geta, from the house.
Geta. They say that he has not come back.
Geta sandals. They say he hasn't come back.
Dem. I must wait for my brother. The advice that he gives me about this matter, I shall follow. I’ll go make inquiry at the harbor, when he is to come back.
Dem. I need to wait for my brother. I’ll take his advice on this matter. I’ll check at the harbor to see when he’s coming back.
Exit.
Leave.
Geta. And I’ll go look for Antipho, that he may learn what has passed here. But look, I see him coming this way, just in the very nick of time.
Geta sandals. And I’ll go find Antipho so he can learn what’s happened here. But wait, I see him coming this way, right on time.
Scene IV.
Enter Antipho, at a distance.
Enter Antipho, from afar.
Ant. (to himself.) Indeed, Antipho, in many ways you are to be blamed for these feelings; to have thus run away, and intrusted your existence to the protection of other people. Did you suppose that others would give more attention to your interests than your own self? For, however other matters stood, certainly you should have thought of her whom you have now at home, that she might not suffer any harm in consequence of her confiding in you, whose hopes and resources, poor thing, are all now centred in yourself alone.
Ant. (to himself.) Honestly, Antipho, you really have no one to blame but yourself for how you feel; you ran away and put your life in the hands of others. Did you really think that other people would care more about your interests than you do? No matter what else was going on, you definitely should have considered the woman back home, making sure she wouldn’t be hurt because she trusted you, whose hopes and expectations, poor thing, are now all focused solely on you.
Geta (coming forward.) Why really, master, we have for some time been censuring you here in your absence, for having thus gone away.
Geta sandals (coming forward.) Honestly, master, we've been criticizing you for a while now while you've been away for leaving us like this.
Ant. You are the very person I was looking for.
Ant. You are exactly the person I was looking for.
Geta. But still, we were not a bit the more remiss on that account.
Geta sandals. But still, we weren't any less careful because of that.
Ant. Tell me, I beg of you, in what posture are my interests and fortunes. Has my father any suspicion?
Ant. Please tell me, I’m begging you, what’s the status of my interests and fortunes. Does my father suspect anything?
Geta. Not any at present.
Geta. None available right now.
Ant. Is there still any hope?
Ant. Is there still hope?
Geta. I don’t know.
Geta. I have no idea.
Ant. Alas!
Ant. Oh no!
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Geta. But Phædria has not neglected to use his endeavors in your behalf.
Geta. But Phædria has made sure to do everything he can for you.
Ant. He did nothing new.
Ant. He did nothing innovative.
Geta. Then Phormio, too, in this matter, just as in every thing else, showed himself a man of energy.
Geta sandals. Then Phormio, in this situation, just like in all others, proved to be a man of action.
Ant. What did he do?
What did he do?
Geta. With his words he silenced the old man, who was very angry.
Geta sandals. His words shut the old man up, who was really mad.
Ant. Well done, Phormio!
Ant. Great job, Phormio!
Geta. I, too, did all I could.
Geta. I also did my best.
Ant. My dear Geta, I love you all.
My dear Geta, I love you all.
Geta. The commencement is just in this position, as I tell you: matters, at present, are going on smoothly, and your father intends to wait for your uncle till he arrives.
Geta sandals. Things are just starting out like this, as I’m telling you: right now, everything is going well, and your dad plans to wait for your uncle until he gets here.
Ant. Why him?
Ant. Why that guy?
Geta. He said he was wishful to act by his advice, in all that relates to this business.
Geta sandals. He said he was eager to follow his advice in everything related to this matter.
Ant. How greatly now, Geta, I do dread my uncle’s safe arrival! For, according to his single sentence, from what I hear, I am to live or die.
Ant. I'm really worried about my uncle arriving safely, Geta! Because, from what I've heard, my life or death depends on just one thing he says.
Geta. Here comes Phædria.
Geta. Here comes Phædria.
Ant. Where is he, pray?
Ant. Where is he, please?
Geta. See, he’s coming from his place of exercise.58
Geta sandals. Look, he’s coming from his workout.58
Scene V.
Enter from Dorio’s house, Dorio, followed by Phædria.
Enter from Dorio’s house, Dorio, followed by Phædria.
Phæd. Prithee, hear me, Dorio.
Phæd. Please, listen to me, Dorio.
Dor. I’ll not hear you.
Dor. I won't listen to you.
Phæd. Only a moment.
Phæd. Just a sec.
Dor. Let me alone.
Dor. Leave me alone.
Phæd. Do hear what I have to say.
Phaedrus. Listen to what I have to say.
Dor. Why really I am tired of hearing the same thing a thousand times over.
Dor. Honestly, I’m so tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.
Phæd. But now, I have something to tell you that you’ll hear with pleasure.
Phaedrus. But now, I have something to share that you’ll enjoy hearing.
Dor. Speak then; I’m listening.
Dor. Go ahead; I’m listening.
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Phæd. Can I not prevail on you to wait for only three days? Whither are you going now?
Phaedrus. Can I convince you to wait just three days? Where are you headed now?
Dor. I was wondering if you had any thing new to offer.
Dor. I was curious if you had anything new to share.
Ant. (apart, to Geta.) I’m afraid for this Procurer, lest——
Ant. (aside, to Geta.) I’m worried about this Procurer, in case——
Geta (apart, to Antipho.) Something may befall his own safety.59
Geta (aside to Antipho.) Something could happen to his own safety.59
Phæd. You don’t believe me?
Phæd. You don’t believe me?
Dor. You guess right.
You got it right.
Phæd. But if I pledge my word.
Phaedrus. But if I give my word.
Dor. Nonsense!
Dor. That's ridiculous!
Phæd. You will have reason to say that this kindness was well laid out by you on interest.
Phaedrus. You’ll have every reason to believe that this kindness was cleverly done for your own benefit.
Dor. Stuff!
Dor. Things!
Phæd. Believe me, you will be glad you did so; upon my faith, it is the truth.
Phaedrus. Trust me, you'll be thankful you did; I promise, it's the truth.
Dor. Mere dreams!
Dor. Just dreams!
Phæd. Do but try; the time is not long.
Phaedrus. Just give it a go; it won't take much time.
Dor. The same story over again.
Dor. The same story repeats.
Phæd. You will be my kinsman, my father, my friend; you——
Phaedrus. You would be my relative, my father, my friend; you——
Dor. Now, do prate on.
Dor. Now, go ahead and talk.
Phæd. For you to be of a disposition so harsh and inexorable, that neither by pity nor by entreaties can you be softened!
Phaedrus. How can you be so harsh and unyielding that no amount of compassion or pleading can change your mind!
Dor. For you to be of a disposition so unreasonable and so unconscionable, Phædria, that you can be talking me over with fine words,60 and be for amusing yourself with what’s my property for nothing!
Dor. It's unreasonable and unfair of you, Phædria, to try to sweet-talk me with nice words, 60 and to think you can play around with what I own without any cost!
Ant. (apart, to Geta.) I am sorry for him.
Ant. (aside, to Geta.) I feel sorry for him.
Phæd. (aside.) Alas! I feel it to be too true.
Phaedrus. (aside.) Unfortunately, I know it to be all too true.
Geta (apart, to Antipho.) How well each keeps up to his character!
Geta slippers (aside, to Antipho.) They really stick to their roles!
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Phæd. (to himself.) And would that this misfortune had not befallen me at a time when Antipho was occupied with other cares as well.
Phaedrus. (to himself.) I wish this bad luck hadn’t hit me when Antipho was busy with other things too.
Ant. (coming forward.) Ah Phædria, why, what is the matter?
Ant. (coming forward.) Hey Phædria, what's wrong?
Phæd. O most fortunate Antipho!
Phæd. Oh, lucky Antipho!
Ant. What, I?
What, me?
Phæd. To have in your possession the object of your love, and have no occasion to encounter such a nuisance as this.
Phaedrus. To have the one you love by your side and not have to deal with an annoyance like this.
Ant. What I, in my possession? Why yes, as the saying is, I’ve got a wolf by the ears;61 for I neither know how to get rid of her, nor yet how to keep her.
Ant. What, do I have her? Yeah, as the saying goes, I'm holding a wolf by the ears;61 because I don't know how to let her go, nor do I know how to keep her.
Dor. That’s just my case with regard to him (pointing to Phædria).
Dor. That’s exactly how I feel about him (pointing to Phaedria).
Ant. (to Dorio.) Aye, aye, don’t you show too little of the Procurer. (To Phædria.) What has he been doing?
Ant. (to Dorio.) Yeah, just don't act too stingy with the Procurer. (To Phædria.) What has he been up to?
Phæd. What, he? Acting the part of a most inhuman fellow; been and sold my Pamphila.
Phaedrus. What, him? Playing the role of a totally heartless guy; he actually sold my Pamphila.
Geta. What! Sold her?
Geta. What! She was sold?
Ant. Sold her, say you?
Ant. Sold her, did you?
Phæd. Sold her.
Phæd. She was sold.
Dor. (ironically.) What a shocking crime—a wench bought with one’s own money!
Dor. (ironically.) What a shocking crime—buying a woman with your own money!
Phæd. I can not prevail upon him to wait for me the next three days, and so far break off the bargain with the person, while I get the money from my friends, which has been promised me; if I don’t give it him then, let him not wait a single hour longer.
Phaedrus. I can’t get him to wait for me the next three days, and so far break off the deal with the person, while I gather the money from my friends, which they've promised me; if I don’t give it to him then, he shouldn’t wait a single hour longer.
Dor. Very good.
Dor. Awesome.
Ant. It’s not a long time that he asks, Dorio; do let him prevail upon you; he’ll pay you two-fold for having acted to him thus obligingly.
Ant. He hasn't been asking for long, Dorio; please let him convince you; he'll repay you double for being so helpful to him.
Dor. Mere words!
Dor. Just words!
Ant. Will you allow Pamphila to be carried away from this place? And then, besides, can you possibly allow their love to be severed asunder?
Ant. Will you let Pamphila be taken away from here? And can you really allow their love to be torn apart?
Dor. Neither I nor you cause that.
Dor. Neither you nor I do that.
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Geta. May all the Gods grant you what you are deserving of!
Geta sandals. May all the Gods give you what you deserve!
Dor. I have borne with you for several months quite against my inclination; promising and whimpering, and yet bringing nothing; now, on the other hand, I have found one to pay, and not be sniveling; give place to your betters.
Dor. I’ve put up with you for several months even though I didn’t want to; making promises and complaining, but not delivering anything; now, on the other hand, I’ve found someone who will actually pay up without whining; step aside for those who are better than you.
Ant. I’ faith, there surely was a day named, if I remember right, for you to pay him.
Ant. I swear, there definitely was a day set, if I recall correctly, for you to pay him.
Phæd. It is the fact.
Phæd. That's the truth.
Dor. Do I deny it?
Dor. Am I denying it?
Ant. Is that day past, then?
Ant. Is that day over, then?
Dor. No; but this one has come before it.
Dor. No; but this one has come before it.
Ant. Are you not ashamed of your perfidy?
Ant. Aren't you ashamed of your betrayal?
Dor. Not at all, so long as it is for my interest.
Dor. Not at all, as long as it benefits me.
Geta. Dunghill!
Geta. Trash!
Phæd. Dorio, is it right, pray, for you to act thus?
Phaedrus. Dorio, is it okay for you to do this?
Dor. It is my way; if I suit you, make use of me.
Dor. This is how I am; if I work for you, go ahead and use me.
Ant. Do you try to trifle with him (pointing to Phædria) in this manner?
Ant. Are you trying to mess with him (pointing to Phaedria) like this?
Dor. Why really, on the contrary, Antipho, it’s he trifling with me, for he knew me to be a person of this sort; I supposed him to be quite a different man; he has deceived me; I’m not a bit different to him from what I was before. But however that may be, I’ll yet do this; the captain has said, that to-morrow morning he will pay me the money; if you bring it me before that, Phædria, I’ll follow my rule, that he is the first served who is the first to pay. Farewell!
Dor. Honestly, Antipho, it's the other way around; he's the one playing games with me because he knew what kind of person I am. I thought he was completely different; he tricked me. I'm no different from him than I was before. But anyway, I'll do this: the captain said he would pay me the money tomorrow morning. If you bring it to me before then, Phædria, I’ll stick to my rule that the first to pay is the first to be served. Goodbye!
Goes into his house.
Enters his house.
Scene VI.
Phædria, Antipho, and Geta.
Phædria, Antipho, and Geta.
Phæd. What am I to do? Wretch that I am! where am I now in this emergency to raise the money for him, I, who am worse than nothing? If it had been possible for these three days to be obtained of him, it was promised me by then.
Phaedrus. What am I supposed to do? What a miserable state I'm in! How can I possibly come up with the money for him, I, who am worth less than nothing? If it had been possible to get these three days from him, it was promised to me by then.
Ant. Geta, shall we suffer him to continue thus wretched, when he so lately assisted me in the kind way you were mentioning? On the contrary, why not, as there’s need of it, try to do him a kindness in return?
Ant. Geta, should we let him stay miserable like this when he recently helped me in the way you mentioned? Instead, why not, since it's needed, try to do something nice for him in return?
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Geta. For my part, I’m sure it is but fair.
Geta. As far as I'm concerned, I’m sure it is only fair.
Ant. Come then, you are the only man able to serve him.
Ant. Alright then, you’re the only person who can help him.
Geta. What can I do?
Geta. What can I help with?
Ant. Procure the money.
Ant. Get the money.
Geta. I wish I could; but where it is to come from—tell me that.
Geta sandals. I wish I could; but where is it supposed to come from—can you tell me that?
Ant. My father has come home.
Ant. My dad is home.
Geta. I know; but what of that?
Geta. I get that, but so what?
Ant. Oh, a word to the wise62 is quite enough.
Ant. Oh, a little advice goes a long way.
Geta. Is that it, then?
Geta. Is that all?
Ant. Just so.
Got it.
Geta. Upon my faith, you really do give me fine advice; out upon you! Ought I not to be heartily glad, if I meet with no mishap through your marriage, but what, in addition to that, you must now bid me, for his sake, to be seeking risk upon risk?
Geta sandals. Honestly, you really do give me great advice; shame on you! Shouldn't I be completely relieved if I avoid any trouble because of your marriage? But now, on top of that, you want me to go looking for trouble, all for his sake?
Ant. ’Tis true what he says.
Ant. It's true what he says.
Phæd. What! am I a stranger to you, Geta?
Phaedrus. What! Am I a stranger to you, Geta?
Geta. I don’t consider you so. But is it so trifling a matter that the old gentleman is now vexed with us all, that we must provoke him still more, and leave no room for entreaty?
Geta sandals. I don’t see you that way. But is it such a small thing that the old man is upset with all of us that we have to annoy him even more, leaving no space for a plea?
Phæd. Is another man to take her away from before my eyes to some unknown spot? Alas! speak to me then, Antipho, and look upon me while you have the opportunity, and while I’m present.
Phaedrus. Is someone else going to take her away from me to some unknown place? Oh no! Please talk to me, Antipho, and look at me while you still can and while I’m here.
Ant. Why so, or what are you going to do? Pray, tell me.
Ant. Why not? What are you planning to do? Please, share with me.
Phæd. To whatever part of the world she is borne away, I’m determined to follow her or to perish.
Phaedrus. No matter where she goes in the world, I’m set on following her or dying trying.
Geta. May the Gods prosper your design! Cautiously’s the word, however.
Geta sandals. May the Gods support your plan! But let’s be careful—that’s the key.
Ant. (to Geta.) Do see if you can give him any assistance at all.
Ant. (to Geta sandals.) Please see if you can help him in any way.
Geta. Any at all—how?
Geta. Any at all—how?
Ant. Pray, do try, that he mayn’t be doing something that we may afterward be more or less sorry for, Geta.
Ant. Please, try to make sure he isn't doing something that we might regret later, Geta.
Geta. I’m considering. (He pauses.) He’s all safe, so far as I can guess: but still, I’m afraid of mischief.
Geta sandals. I'm thinking. (He pauses.) He seems fine, as far as I can tell: but still, I'm worried about trouble.
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Ant. Don’t be afraid: together with you, we’ll share good and bad.
Ant. Don’t worry: we’ll face the good and bad together.
Geta. (to Phædria.) How much money do you want? Tell me.
Geta sandals. (to Phaedria.) How much money do you need? Just let me know.
Phæd. Only thirty minæ.
Phæd. Only thirty minas.
Geta. Thirty? Heyday! she’s monstrous dear, Phædria.
Geta sandals. Thirty? Wow! She’s really something, dear Phædria.
Phæd. Indeed, she’s very cheap.
Phæd. Indeed, she's really inexpensive.
Geta. Well, well, I’ll get them for you.
Geta sandals. Alright, I’ll grab them for you.
Phæd. Oh the dear man! (They both fall to hugging Geta.)
Phaedrus. Oh, the sweet guy! (They both start hugging Geta sandals.)
Geta. Take yourselves off. (Shakes them off.)
Geta sandals. Get out of here. (Shakes them off.)
Phæd. There’s need for them directly.
Phæd. They need them directly.
Geta. You shall have them directly; but I must have Phormio for my assistant in this business.
Geta sandals. You will get them right away; but I need Phormio to help me with this.
Ant. He’s quite ready; right boldly lay on him any load you like, he’ll bear it: he, in especial, is a friend to his friend.
Ant. He’s totally ready; go ahead and put any burden on him, he can handle it: he is, in particular, a true friend to his friends.
Geta. Let’s go to him at once then.
Geta sandals. Let’s head over to him right now.
Ant. Will you have any occasion for my assistance?
Ant. Do you need my help with anything?
Geta. None; but be off home, and comfort that poor thing, who I am sure is now in-doors almost dead with fear. Do you linger?
Geta sandals. Nothing; just go home and comfort that poor person, who I’m sure is inside almost dead with fear. Are you still here?
Ant. There’s nothing I could do with so much pleasure.
Ant. There’s nothing I could do with so much enjoyment.
Goes into the house of Demipho.
Enters Demipho's house.
Phæd. What way will you manage this?
Phaedrus. How are you going to handle this?
Geta. I’ll tell you on the road; first thing, betake yourself off.
Geta sandals. I’ll tell you on the way; first, you should head out.
Exeunt.
Exit.
ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Demipho and Chremes.
Enter Demipho and Chremes.
Dem. Well, have you brought your daughter with you, Chremes, for whom you went to Lemnos?
Dem. So, did you bring your daughter with you, Chremes, the one you went to Lemnos for?
Chrem. No.
Chrem. Nope.
Dem. Why not?
Dem. Why not?
Chrem. When her mother found that I staid here longer than usual, and at the same time the age of the girl did not 335 suit with my delays, they told me that she, with all her family, set out in search of me.
Chrem. When her mother realized that I was staying here longer than usual, and the girl's age didn't match my delays, they informed me that she, along with her whole family, had left to look for me. 335
Dem. Pray, then, why did you stay there so long, when you had heard of this?
Dem. So, why did you stick around for so long after hearing about this?
Chrem. Why, faith, a malady detained me.
Chrem. Honestly, I was held up by an illness.
Dem. From what cause? Or what was it?
Dem. From what reason? Or what was it?
Chrem. Do you ask me? Old age itself is a malady. However, I heard that they had arrived safe, from the captain who brought them.
Chrem. Are you asking me? Old age is a sickness in itself. Anyway, I heard from the captain who brought them that they arrived safely.
Dem. Have you heard, Chremes, what has happened to my son in my absence?
Dem. Have you heard, Chremes, what happened to my son while I was away?
Chrem. ’Tis that, in fact, that has embarrassed me in my plans. For if I offer my daughter in marriage to any person that’s a stranger, it must all be told how and by whom I had her. You I knew to be fully as faithful to me as I am to myself; if a stranger shall think fit to be connected with me by marriage, he will hold his tongue, just as long as good terms exist between us: but if he takes a dislike to me, he’ll be knowing more than it’s proper he should know. I am afraid, too, lest my wife should, by some means, come to know of it; if that is the case, it only remains for me to shake myself63 and leave the house; for I’m the only one I can rely on at home.64
Chrem. It’s exactly that which has messed up my plans. If I offer my daughter to marry anyone who’s a stranger, everyone will find out how and by whom I had her. I knew you to be as loyal to me as I am to myself; if a stranger wants to connect with me through marriage, they’ll keep quiet as long as we’re on good terms. But if they end up disliking me, they'll learn more than they should. I’m also worried that my wife might find out somehow; if that happens, I’ll have no choice but to pull myself together63 and leave the house because I’m the only one I can trust at home.64
Dem. I know it is so, and that circumstance is a cause of anxiety to me; and I shall never cease trying, until I’ve made good what I promised you.
Dem. I know it’s true, and that situation worries me; and I won’t stop trying until I make good on what I promised you.
Scene II.
Enter Geta, on the other side of the stage, not seeing Demipho or Chremes.
Enter Geta, on the other side of the stage, not noticing Demipho or Chremes.
Geta. (to himself.) I never saw a more cunning fellow than this Phormio. I came to the fellow to tell him that money 336 was needed, and by what means it might be procured. Hardly had I said one half, when he understood me; he was quite delighted; complimented me; asked where the old man was; gave thanks to the Gods that an opportunity was afforded him for showing himself no less a friend to Phædria than to Antipho: I bade the fellow wait for me at the Forum; whither I would bring the old gentleman. But see, here’s the very man (catching sight of the Old Man). Who is the further one? Heyday, Phædria’s father has got back! still, brute beast that I am, what was I afraid of? Is it because two are presented instead of one for me to dupe? I deem it preferable to enjoy a two-fold hope. I’ll try for it from him from whom I first intended: if he gives it me, well and good; if I can make nothing of him, then I’ll attack this new-comer.
Geta sandals. (to himself.) I've never seen someone as clever as Phormio. I went to him to say we needed money and how we could get it. Before I could even finish explaining, he understood me completely; he was thrilled, praised me, asked where the old man was, and thanked the gods for the chance to prove he’s as much a friend to Phædria as he is to Antipho. I told him to wait for me at the Forum, where I’d bring the old man. But look, here he is now (noticing the Old Man). Who’s that other guy? Wow, Phædria’s dad is back! Still, what was I scared of? Is it because now I have two people to fool instead of one? I think it’s better to have double the opportunity. I'll go after the one I first intended to approach; if he gives me what I want, great; if not, then I’ll go for the newcomer.
Scene III.
Enter Antipho from the house, behind at a distance.
Enter Antipho from the house, a bit further back.
Ant. (to himself.) I’m expecting every moment that Geta will be here. But I see my uncle standing close by, with my father. Ah me! how much I fear what influence his return may have upon my father!
Ant. (to himself.) I’m expecting Geta to show up any minute now. But I see my uncle standing nearby with my dad. Oh man! I’m so anxious about how his return might affect my dad!
Geta. (to himself.) I’ll accost them. (Goes up to them.) O welcome to you, our neighbor Chremes.
Geta shoes. (to himself.) I’ll go talk to them. (Goes up to them.) Oh, welcome to you, our neighbor Chremes.
Chrem. Save you, Geta.
Chrem. Save yourself, Geta.
Geta. I’m delighted to see you safe returned.
Geta sandals. I’m so glad to see you back safe.
Chrem. I believe you.
Chrem. I trust you.
Geta. How go matters?
Geta. How are things?
Chrem. Many changes here upon my arrival, as usually the case.
Chrem. A lot has changed since I got here, as is usually the case.
Geta. True; have you heard what has happened to Antipho?
Geta sandals. Really; have you heard what happened to Antipho?
Chrem. All.
Chrem. Everything.
Geta. (to Demipho.) What, have you told him? Disgraceful conduct, Chremes, thus to be imposed on.
Geta sandals. (to Demipho.) What, have you told him? It's shameful, Chremes, to put up with this.
Dem. It was about that I was talking to him just now.
Dem. I was just talking to him about that.
Geta. But really, on carefully reflecting upon this matter I think I have found a remedy.
Geta sandals. But honestly, after thinking this through, I believe I've found a solution.
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Dem. What is the remedy?
Dem. What’s the solution?
Geta. When I left you, by accident Phormio met me.
Geta sandals. When I ran into you, I accidentally bumped into Phormio.
Chrem. Who is Phormio?
Chrem. Who is Phormio?
Geta. He who patronized her.
Geta. He who supported her.
Chrem. I understand.
Chrem. Got it.
Geta. It seemed to me that I might first sound him; I took the fellow aside: “Phormio,” said I, “why don’t we try to settle these matters between us rather with a good grace than with a bad one? My master’s a generous man, and one who hates litigation; but really, upon my faith, all his friends were just now advising him with one voice to turn her instantly out of doors.”
Geta sandals. I thought I should first gauge his thoughts; I pulled the guy aside: “Phormio,” I said, “why don’t we try to resolve these issues between us in a friendly way instead of being hostile? My master is a kind person who dislikes legal battles; but honestly, I swear, all his friends were just advising him unanimously to kick her out immediately.”
Ant. (apart.) What is he about? Or where is this to end at last?
Ant. (aside.) What is he doing? Or when is this going to end?
Geta (continuing the supposed conversation.) “He’ll have to give satisfaction at law, you say, if he turns her out? That has been already inquired into: aye, aye, you’ll have enough to do, if you engage with him; he is so eloquent. But suppose he’s beaten; still, however, it’s not his life, but his money that’s at stake.” After I found that the fellow was influenced by these words, I said: “We are now by ourselves here; come now, what should you like to be given you, money down, to drop this suit with my master, so that she may betake herself off, and you annoy us no more?”
Geta sandals (continuing the supposed conversation.) “So you’re saying he’ll have to face legal action if he kicks her out? That’s already been looked into: yeah, you’ll have your hands full if you decide to take him on; he's really persuasive. But let’s say he loses; even then, it’s not his life that’s on the line, but his money.” Once I saw that he was swayed by this, I said: “We’re here alone now; tell me, what would it take for you to drop this lawsuit against my master and let her leave so you won't bother us anymore?”
Ant. (apart.) Are the Gods quite on good terms with him?65
Ant. (aside.) Are the gods really on good terms with him?65
Geta (continuing the conversation.) “For I’m quite sure, if you were to mention any thing that’s fair and reasonable, as he is a reasonable man, you’ll not have to bandy three words with him.”
Geta sandals (continuing the conversation.) “I’m sure that if you bring up something fair and reasonable, since he is a reasonable man, you won’t need to say much to him.”
Dem. Who ordered you to say so?
Dem. Who told you to say that?
Chrem. Nay, he could not have more happily contrived to bring about what we want.
Chrem. No, he couldn't have planned it better to get us what we want.
Ant. (apart.) Undone!
Ant. (aside.) Unraveled!
Chrem. Go on with your story.
Chrem. Continue with your story.
Geta. At first the fellow raved.
Geta. At first, the guy raved.
Dem. Say, what did he ask?
Dem. So, what did he ask?
Geta. What? A great deal too much.
Geta. What? That's way too much.
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Chrem. How much? Tell me.
Chrem. How much is it?
Geta. Suppose he were to give a great talent.
Geta sandals. Imagine if he were to give an amazing talent.
Dem. Aye, faith, perdition to him rather; has he no shame?
Dem. Yeah, seriously, damn him instead; doesn’t he have any shame?
Geta. Just what I said to him: “Pray,” said I, “suppose he was portioning an only daughter of his own. It has been of little benefit that he hasn’t one of his own, when another has been found to be demanding a fortune.” To be brief, and to pass over his impertinences, this at last was his final answer: “I,” said he, “from the very first, have been desirous to marry the daughter of my friend, as was fit I should; for I was aware of the ill results of this, a poor wife being married into a rich family, and becoming a slave. But, as I am now conversing with you unreservedly, I was in want of a wife to bring me a little money with which to pay off my debts; and even yet, if Demipho is willing to give as much as I am to receive with her to whom I am engaged, there is no one whom I should better like for a wife.”
Geta sandals. Just what I said to him: “Look,” I said, “let's say he was giving away his only daughter. It doesn’t really matter that he doesn’t have one himself when someone else is asking for a fortune.” To get to the point and ignore his rudeness, this was ultimately his final answer: “I,” he said, “have always wanted to marry my friend’s daughter, as I should; because I know how awful it is for a poor wife to be married into a rich family and end up as nothing more than a servant. But, since I’m being completely honest with you now, I wanted a wife who could bring me a bit of money to help pay off my debts; and even now, if Demipho is ready to offer as much as I’m set to receive with the woman I’m engaged to, there’s no one I’d prefer to have as my wife.”
Ant. (apart.) Whether to say he’s doing this through folly or mischief, through stupidity or design, I’m in doubt.
Ant. (apart.) I'm not sure if he's doing this out of foolishness or on purpose, whether it's from stupidity or a plan.
Dem. What if he’s in debt to the amount of his life?66
Dem. What if he owes a debt that costs him his life?66
Geta. His land is mortgaged,—for ten minæ he said.
Geta sandals. His land is mortgaged—for ten minæ, he said.
Dem. Well, well, let him take her then; I’ll give it.
Dem. Alright, let him have her then; I'll handle it.
Geta. He has a house besides, mortgaged for another ten.
Geta sandals. He has a house as well, mortgaged for another ten.
Dem. Huy, huy! that’s too much.
Huy, huy! That’s too much.
Chrem. Don’t be crying out; you may have those ten of me.
Chrem. Don’t shout; you can have those ten of me.
Geta. A lady’s maid must be brought for his wife; and then too, a little more is wanted for some furniture, and some is wanted for the wedding expenses. “Well then,” said he, “for these items, put down ten more.”
Geta sandals. A maid needs to be hired for his wife, and also, a bit more is needed for furniture, and some is required for the wedding expenses. “Alright then,” he said, “add ten more for these things.”
Dem. Then let him at once bring six hundred actions67 against me; I shall give nothing at all; is this dirty fellow to be laughing at me as well?
Dem. Then let him immediately file six hundred lawsuits against me; I won’t give anything at all; is this sleazy guy going to laugh at me too?
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Chrem. Pray do be quiet; I’ll give it: do you only bring your son to marry the woman we want him to have.
Chrem. Please be quiet; I’ll say this: just make sure you bring your son to marry the woman we want him to have.
Ant. (apart.) Ah me! Geta, you have ruined me by your treachery.
Ant. (aside.) Oh no! Geta, you have betrayed me and it has destroyed me.
Chrem. ’Tis on my account she’s turned off; it’s right that I should bear the loss.
Chrem. It’s because of me that she’s been dismissed; it’s only fair that I should take the loss.
Geta. “Take care and let me know,” said he, “as soon as possible, if they are going to let me have her, that I may get rid of the other, so that I mayn’t be in doubt; for the others have agreed to pay me down the portion directly.”
Geta sandals. “Be sure to keep me posted,” he said, “as soon as you find out if they are going to let me have her, so I can get rid of the other one and stop worrying; the others have already agreed to pay me the portion upfront.”
Chrem. Let him have her at once; let him give notice to them that he breaks off the match with the other, and let him marry this woman.
Chrem. Let him have her right away; he should inform them that he’s ending the engagement with the other, and let him marry this woman.
Dem. Yes, and little joy to him of the bargain!
Dem. Yes, and he gets little happiness from the deal!
Chrem. Luckily, too, I’ve now brought home some money with me, the rents which my wife’s farms at Lemnos produce. I’ll take it out of that, and tell my wife that you had occasion for it.
Chrem. Fortunately, I’ve also brought home some money from the rents my wife’s farms in Lemnos produce. I’ll use that and let my wife know that you needed it.
They go into the house of Chremes.
They enter Chremes' house.
Scene IV.
Antipho and Geta.
Antipho and Geta.
Ant. (coming forward.) Geta.
Geta.
Geta. Well.
Geta. Alright.
Ant. What have you been doing?
Ant. What have you been up to?
Geta. Diddling the old fellows out of their money.
Geta sandals. Tricking the old guys out of their money.
Ant. Is that quite the thing?
Ant. Is that really the point?
Geta. I’ faith, I don’t know: it’s just what I was told to do.
Geta. Honestly, I have no idea: it’s just what I was told to do.
Ant. How now, whip-scoundrel, do you give me an answer to what I don’t ask you? (Kicks him.)
Ant. What’s up, you whip-loser? Why are you answering questions I didn’t even ask? (Kicks him.)
Geta. What was it then that you did ask?
Geta sandals. What was it that you wanted to know?
Ant. What was it I did ask? Through your agency, matters have most undoubtedly come to the pass that I may go hang myself. May then all the Gods, Goddesses, Deities above and below, with every evil confound you! Look now, if you wish any thing to succeed, intrust it to him who may bring you from smooth water on to a rock. What was there less advantageous than to touch upon this sore, or to name 340 my wife? Hopes have been excited in my father that she may possibly be got rid of. Pray now, tell me, suppose Phormio receives the portion, she must be taken home by him as his wife: what’s to become of me?
Ant. What was it I asked? Because of you, I've definitely reached the point where I might as well hang myself. May all the Gods, Goddesses, and Deities above and below, along with every evil, curse you! Look, if you want anything to work out, trust it to someone who can take you from calm waters onto a rock. What could be less helpful than bringing up this sore spot or mentioning 340 my wife? My father has gotten his hopes up that she might be gotten rid of. Tell me, if Phormio gets the dowry, she has to come home with him as his wife: what happens to me?
Geta. But he’s not going to marry her.
Geta sandals. But he’s not going to marry her.
Ant. I know that. But (ironically) when they demand the money back, of course, for our sake, he’ll prefer going to prison.
Ant. I get that. But (ironically) when they ask for the money back, obviously for our benefit, he'll choose to go to jail instead.
Geta. There is nothing, Antipho, but what it may be made worse by being badly told: you leave out what is good, and you mention the bad. Now then, hear the other side: if he receives the money, she must be taken as his wife, you say; I grant you; still, some time at least will be allowed for preparing for the nuptials, for inviting, and for sacrificing. In the mean time, Phædria’s friends will advance what they have promised; out of that he will repay it.
Geta sandals. There’s nothing, Antipho, that can’t be made worse by being told badly: you skip the good parts and highlight the bad. Now, listen to the other side: if he gets the money, then she has to become his wife, right? I agree; however, there will still be some time to get ready for the wedding, to send out invites, and to make sacrifices. In the meantime, Phædria’s friends will provide what they promised; from that, he will pay it back.
Ant. On what grounds? Or what will he say?
Ant. Why's that? Or what will he say?
Geta. Do you ask the question? “How many circumstances, since then, have befallen me as prodigies? A strange black dog68 entered the house; a snake came down from the tiles through the sky-light;69 a hen crowed;70 the soothsayer forbade it; the diviner71 warned me not: besides, before winter there is no sufficient reason for me to commence upon any new undertaking.” This will be the case.
Geta sandals. Are you asking the question? “How many strange events have happened to me since then? A weird black dog entered the house; a snake came down from the roof through the skylight; a hen crowed; the fortune-teller said not to; the diviner warned me against it: besides, there’s no good reason for me to start any new project before winter.” This will be the case.
Ant. I only wish it may be the case.
Ant. I really hope that's true.
Geta. It shall be the case; trust me for that. Your father’s coming out; go tell Phædria that the money is found.
Geta sandals. It will happen; you can count on me for that. Your father is coming out; go tell Phædria that the money has been found.
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Scene V.
Enter Demipho and Chremes, from the house of the latter, the former with a purse of money.
Enter Demipho and Chremes, coming from Chremes' house, with Demipho carrying a bag of money.
Dem. Do be quiet, I tell you; I’ll take care he shall not be playing any tricks upon us. I’ll not rashly part with this without having my witnesses; I’ll have it stated to whom I pay it, and for what purpose I pay it.
Dem. Please be quiet; I’ll make sure he doesn’t pull any tricks on us. I'm not going to hand this over without having my witnesses. I’ll make it clear who I’m paying and why I'm paying it.
Geta. (apart.) How cautious he is, when there’s no need for it!
Geta sandals. (apart.) How careful he is when it’s unnecessary!
Chrem. Why yes, you had need do so, and with all haste, while the fit is upon him; for if this other woman shall prove more pressing, perhaps he may throw us over.
Chrem. Yes, you need to do that quickly, especially while he's in the mood; if this other woman becomes more insistent, he might just choose her over us.
Geta. You’ve hit upon the very thing.
Geta. You got it.
Dem. Lead me to him then.
Dem. Take me to him then.
Geta. I won’t delay.
Geta. I won't hold up.
Chrem. (to Demipho.) When you’ve done so, go over to my wife, that she may call upon her before she goes away. She must tell her that we are going to give her in marriage to Phormio, that she may not be angry with us; and that he is a fitter match for her, as knowing more of her; that we have in no way departed from our duty; that as much has been given for a portion as he asked for.
Chrem. (to Demipho.) Once you’ve done that, go to my wife and have her talk to her before she leaves. She needs to inform her that we’re planning to marry her off to Phormio, so she won’t be upset with us; and that he’s a better match for her since he knows her better; that we haven’t neglected our responsibilities; and that we’ve given as much for the dowry as he requested.
Dem. What the plague does that matter to you?
Dem. Why does that even matter to you?
Chrem. A great deal, Demipho. It is not enough for you to do your duty, if common report does not approve of it; I wish all this to be done with her own sanction as well, that she mayn’t be saying that she has been turned out of doors.
Chrem. A lot, Demipho. It's not enough for you to just do your duty if people don’t approve of it; I want everything to be done with her permission too, so she won't claim she was kicked out.
Dem. I can do all that myself.
Dem. I can do *all* that myself.
Chrem. It will come better from one woman to another.
Chrem. It will sound better coming from one woman to another.
Dem. I’ll ask her.
I'll ask her.
Goes into the house of Chremes; and exit Geta.
Goes into the house of Chremes; and exit Geta.
Chrem. (to himself.) I’m thinking where I can find them now.72
Chrem. (to himself.) I’m trying to figure out where I can find them now.72
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Scene VI.
Enter Sophrona from the house of Demipho, at a distance.
Enter Sophrona from the house of Demipho, from afar.
Soph. (to herself.) What am I to do? What friend, in my distress, shall I find, to whom to disclose these plans; and where shall I look for relief? For I’m afraid that my mistress, in consequence of my advice, may undeservingly sustain some injury, so extremely ill do I hear that the young man’s father takes what has happened.
Sophomore. (to herself.) What should I do? Who can I turn to in my time of need to share these plans with; and where can I find some help? I’m worried that my mistress might unfairly suffer because of my advice, especially since I've heard how upset the young man's father is about what happened.
Chrem. (apart, to himself.) But what old woman’s this, that has come out of my brother’s house, half dead with fright?
Chrem. (aside, to himself.) But who is this old woman, coming out of my brother’s house, looking half dead from fear?
Soph. (to herself, continuing.) It was distress that compelled me to this step, though I knew that the match was not likely to hold good; my object was, that in the mean time life might be supported.
Soph. (to herself, continuing.) It was my distress that drove me to take this step, even though I knew the relationship probably wouldn't last; my goal was to make sure that, in the meantime, I could get by.
Chrem. (apart, to himself.) Upon my faith, surely, unless my recollection deceives me, or my sight’s not very good, I espy my daughter’s nurse.73
Chrem. (aside, to himself.) Honestly, unless I’m remembering wrong or my eyesight isn’t great, I see my daughter’s nurse. 73
Soph. (to herself.) And we are not able to find——
Sophomore. (to herself.) And we can't find——
Chrem. (apart.) What must I do?
Chrem. (apart.) What should I do?
Soph. (to herself.) Her father.
Soph. (to herself.) Dad.
Chrem. (to himself, apart.) Shall I accost her, or shall I wait to learn more distinctly what it is she’s saying?
Chrem. (to himself, aside.) Should I approach her, or should I wait to understand more clearly what she’s saying?
Soph. (to herself.) If now I could find him, there’s nothing that I should be in fear of.
Sophomore. (to herself.) If I could just find him now, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
Chrem. (apart, to himself, aloud.) ’Tis the very woman. I’ll address her.
Chrem. (away from others, to himself, speaking out loud.) It's definitely her. I’ll go talk to her.
Soph. (turning round.) Who’s that speaking here?
Soph. (turning around.) Who's speaking here?
Chrem. (coming forward.) Sophrona.
Sophrona.
Soph. Mentioning my name, too?
Soph. Bringing up my name, too?
Chrem. Look round at me.
Chrem. Look around at me.
Soph. (seeing him.) Ye Gods, I do beseech you, isn’t this Stilpho?
Sophomore. (seeing him.) Oh my Gods, I really need to ask, isn’t this Stilpho?
Chrem. No.
Chrem. Nope.
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Soph. Do you deny it?
Soph. Do you deny it?
Chrem. (in a low voice.) Step a little this way from that door, Sophrona, if you please (pointing). Don’t you, henceforth, be calling me by that name.
Chrem. (in a low voice.) Step a bit away from that door, Sophrona, if you don’t mind (pointing). From now on, don’t call me by that name.
Soph. Why? Pray, are you not the person you always used to say you were?
Sophomore. Why? Come on, are you not the person you always claimed to be?
Chrem. Hush! (pointing to his own house.)
Chrem. Quiet! (pointing to his own house.)
Soph. Why are you afraid about that door?
Sophomore. Why are you scared about that door?
Chrem. (in a low voice.) I have got a shrew of a wife shut up there. For by that name I formerly falsely called myself, in order that you might not chance indiscreetly to blab it out of doors, and then my wife, by some means or other, might come to know of it.
Chrem. (in a low voice.) I have a real pain of a wife locked up over there. I used that name before to falsely refer to myself, just so you wouldn’t accidentally let it slip outside, and then my wife might somehow find out about it.
Soph. I’ faith, that’s the very reason why we, wretched creatures, have never been able to find you out here.
Sophomore. Honestly, that’s exactly why we, miserable beings, have never been able to find you out here.
Chrem. Well, but tell me, what business have you with that family from whose house you were coming out? Where are the ladies?74
Chrem. So, tell me, what do you need from that family you just left? Where are the women?74
Soph. Ah, wretched me!
Soph. Oh, poor me!
Chrem. Hah! What’s the matter? Are they still alive?
Chrem. Hah! What’s going on? Are they still alive?
Soph. Your daughter is alive. Her poor mother died of grief.
Sophomore. Your daughter is alive. Her poor mother died from heartbreak.
Chrem. An unfortunate thing!
Chrem. What a bummer!
Soph. As for me, being a lone old woman, in want, and unknown, I contrived, as well as I could, to get the young woman married to the young man who is master of this house (pointing).
Sophomore. As for me, being an old woman alone, in need, and unnoticed, I did my best to arrange for the young woman to marry the young man who owns this house (pointing).
Chrem. What! to Antipho?
Chrem. What! to Antipho?
Soph. The very same, I say.
The same, I say.
Chrem. What? Has he got two wives?
Chrem. What? Does he have two wives?
Soph. Dear no, prithee, he has only got this one.
Sophomore. No, please, he only has this one.
Chrem. What about the other one that’s called his relative?
Chrem. What about the other one who's referred to as his relative?
Soph. Why, this is she.
Soph. This is her.
Chrem. What is it you say?
Chrem. What are you saying?
Soph. It was done on purpose, in order that her lover might be enabled to marry her without a portion.
Sophomore. It was done deliberately so that her partner could marry her without having to provide a dowry.
Chrem. Ye Gods, by our trust in you! How often do those things come about through accident, which you couldn’t dare 344 to hope for? On my return, I have found my daughter matched with the very person I wished, and just as I wanted; a thing that we were both using our endeavors, with the greatest earnestness, to bring about. Without any very great management on our part, by her own management, she has by herself brought this about.
Chrem. Oh my gods, we trust in you! How often do things happen by chance that you wouldn't even dare to hope for? When I came back, I found my daughter engaged to exactly the person I wished for, just as I wanted; something we were both working hard to achieve. Without much planning from us, she managed to make it happen on her own. 344
Soph. Now consider what’s to be done. The young man’s father has returned, and they say that he bears this with feelings highly offended.
Sophomore. Now think about what needs to be done. The young man's father has come back, and people say he is really upset about this.
Chrem. There’s no danger of that. But, by Gods and men, do take care that no one comes to know that she’s my daughter.
Chrem. There's no risk of that. But, for the love of the Gods and men, please make sure no one finds out that she's my daughter.
Soph. No one shall know it from me.
Soph. No one will know it from me.
Chrem. Follow me; in-doors we’ll hear the rest.
Chrem. Come with me; we'll hear the rest inside.
He goes into Demipho’s house, followed by Sophrona.
He enters Demipho’s house, followed by Sophrona.
ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Enter Demipho and Geta.
Enter Demipho and Geta.
Dem. ’Tis caused by our own fault, that it is advantageous to be dishonest; while we wish ourselves to be styled very honest and generous. “So run away as not to run beyond the house,”75 as the saying is. Was it not enough to receive an injury from him, but money must be voluntarily offered him as well, that he may have something on which to subsist while he plans some other piece of roguery?
Dem. It's our own fault that it's beneficial to be dishonest, even as we want to be seen as very honest and generous. “So run away as not to run beyond the house,”75 as the saying goes. Was it not enough to be harmed by him, but we also have to offer him money voluntarily so he has something to live on while he comes up with another piece of trickery?
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Geta. Most clearly so.
Geta. Definitely.
Dem. They now get rewarded for it, who confound right with wrong.
Dem. They now get rewarded for it, those who mix up right and wrong.
Geta. Most undoubtedly.
Geta. Definitely.
Dem. How very foolishly, in fact, we have managed the affair with him!
Dem. How incredibly foolish we've been in handling this situation with him!
Geta. If by these means we can only manage for him to marry her.
Geta. If through these methods we can just get him to marry her.
Dem. Is that, then, a matter of doubt?
Dem. Is that seriously a question?
Geta. I’ faith, judging from what the fellow is, I don’t know whether he mightn’t change his mind.
Geta sandals. Honestly, looking at what the guy is like, I’m not sure if he might change his mind.
Dem. How! change it indeed?
How can we change it?
Geta. I don’t know: but “if perhaps,” I say.
Geta sandals. I’m not sure, but “maybe,” I say.
Dem. I’ll do as my brother advised me, bring hither his wife, to talk with her. Do you, Geta, go before; tell her that Nausistrata is about to visit her.
Dem. I’ll follow my brother's advice and bring his wife here to talk. You, Geta, go ahead; let her know that Nausistrata is coming to see her.
Demipho goes into the house of Chremes.
Demipho enters Chremes' house.
Scene II.
Geta, alone.
Geta, by herself.
Geta. The money’s been got for Phædria; it’s all hushed about the lawsuit; due care has been taken that she’s not to leave for the present. What next, then? What’s to be done? You are still sticking in the mud. You are paying by borrowing;76 the evil that was at hand, has been put off for a day. The toils are increasing upon you, if you don’t look out. Now I’ll away home, and tell Phanium not to be afraid of Nausistrata, or his talking.77
Geta sandals. The money has been arranged for Phædria; the lawsuit is all quiet; everything’s been handled so she doesn’t leave for now. What’s next, then? What should we do? You’re still stuck. You’re paying by borrowing; 76 the trouble that was coming has just been postponed for a day. The pressures are piling up on you if you’re not careful. Now I’ll head home and tell Phanium not to worry about Nausistrata or what he’s saying. 77
Goes into the house of Demipho.
Enters Demipho's house.
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Scene III.
Enter Demipho and Nausistrata, from the house of Chremes.
Enter Demipho and Nausistrata, from the house of Chremes.
Dem. Come now, Nausistrata, after your usual way, manage to keep her in good-humor with us, and make her do of her own accord what must be done.
Dem. Come on, Nausistrata, as you usually do, try to keep her in a good mood with us, and get her to do what needs to be done on her own.
Naus. I will.
Sure.
Dem. You are now seconding me with your endeavors, just as you assisted me with your money78 before.
Dem. You're now supporting me with your efforts, just like you helped me with your money before.
Naus. I wish to do so; and yet, i’ faith, through the fault of my husband, I am less able than I ought to be.
Nausea. I want to, but honestly, because of my husband, I’m not as capable as I should be.
Dem. Why so?
Dem. Why's that?
Naus. Because, i’ faith, he takes such indifferent care of the property that was so industriously acquired by my father; for from those farms he used regularly to receive two talents of silver yearly; there’s an instance, how superior one man is to another.
Nausea. Honestly, he cares so little for the property that my father worked so hard to acquire; he used to receive two talents of silver every year from those farms. That's just one example of how one person can be so much better than another.
Dem. Two talents, pray?
Dem. Two talents, please?
Naus. Aye, and when things were much worse, two talents even.
Nausea. Yeah, and when things were even worse, two talents too.
Dem. Whew!
Dem. Wow!
Naus. What! does this seem surprising?
Naus. What! Is this surprising?
Dem. Of course it does.
Dem. Of course it does.
Naus. I wish I had been born a man; I’d have shown——
Nausea. I wish I had been born a guy; I would have shown——
Dem. That I’m quite sure of.
Dem. I'm sure of that.
Naus. In what way——
Naus. How——
Dem. Forbear, pray, that you may be able to do battle with her; lest she, being a young woman, may be more than a match for you.
Dem. Hold on, please, so you can actually take her on; otherwise, since she's a young woman, she might be more than you can handle.
Naus. I’ll do as you bid me; but I see my husband coming out of your house.
Nausea. I'll do what you ask; but I see my husband coming out of your house.
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Scene IV.
Enter Chremes, hastily, from Demipho’s house.
Enter Chremes, quickly, from Demipho’s house.
Chrem. Ha! Demipho, has the money been paid him yet?
Chrem. Ha! Demipho, has he been paid the money yet?
Dem. I took care immediately.
Dem. I handled it right away.
Chrem. I wish it hadn’t been paid him. (On seeing Nausistrata, aside.) Halloo, I espy my wife; I had almost said more than I ought.
Chrem. I wish that money hadn’t been given to him. (Noticing Nausistrata, aside.) Hey, I see my wife; I almost said too much.
Dem. Why do you wish I hadn’t, Chremes?
Dem. Why do you want me to regret it, Chremes?
Chrem. It’s all right.
Chrem. It's okay.
Dem. What say you? Have you been letting her know why we are going to bring her? (pointing to Nausistrata.)
Dem. What do you think? Have you been informing her about why we're bringing her? (pointing to Nausistrata.)
Chrem. I’ve arranged it.
Chrem. I’ve got it sorted.
Dem. Pray, what does she say?
Dem. So, what does she say?
Chrem. She can’t be got to leave.
Chrem. She isn’t leaving.
Dem. Why can’t she?
Dem. Why can't she?
Chrem. Because they are fond of one another.
Chrem. Because they care about each other.
Dem. What’s that to us?
Dem. What does that matter to us?
Chrem. (apart, to Demipho.) A great deal; besides that, I’ve found out that she is related to us.
Chrem. (aside, to Demipho.) A lot; also, I discovered that she's part of our family.
Dem. (apart.) What! You are mad, surely.
Dem. (apart.) What! You must be crazy, surely.
Chrem. (apart.) So you will find; I don’t speak at random; I’ve recovered my recollection.
Chrem. (aside.) So you'll see; I don't just talk aimlessly; I’ve got my memory back.
Dem. (apart.) Are you quite in your senses?
Dem. (apart.) Are you actually thinking clearly?
Chrem. (apart.) Nay, prithee, do take care not to injure your kinswoman.
Chrem. (aside.) No, please, do be careful not to hurt your relative.
Dem. (apart.) She is not.
Dem. (apart.) She's not.
Chrem. (apart.) Don’t deny it; her father went by another name; that was the cause of your mistake.
Chrem. (apart.) Don’t deny it; her dad went by a different name; that’s why you made that mistake.
Dem. (apart.) Did she not know who was her father?
Dem. (apart.) Didn’t she know who her father was?
Chrem. (apart.) She did.
Chrem. (apart.) She did.
Dem. (apart.) Why did she call him by another name?
Dem. (apart.) Why did she call him by a different name?
Chrem. (apart, frowning.) Will you never yield to me, nor understand what I mean?
Chrem. (apart, frowning.) Will you ever give in to me or understand what I mean?
Dem. (apart.) If you don’t tell me of any thing——
Dem. (apart.) If you don’t tell me anything——
Chrem. (impatiently.) Do you persist?
Chrem. (impatiently.) Are you still at it?
Naus. I wonder what all this can be.
Naus. I wonder what this all is.
Dem. For my part, upon my faith, I don’t know.
Honestly, I have no clue.
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Chrem. (whispering to him.) Would you like to know? Then, so may Jupiter preserve me, not a person is there more nearly related to her than are you and I.
Chrem. (whispering to him.) Want to know? Then, I swear by Jupiter, no one is more closely connected to her than you and I.
Dem. (starting.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! let’s away to her; I wish for all of us, one way or other, to be sure about this (going).
Dem. (starting.) Oh my God, let's go to her; I just want us all, one way or another, to be sure about this (going).
Chrem. (stopping him.) Ah!
Chrem. (stopping him.) Oh!
Dem. What’s the matter?
Dem. What's wrong?
Chrem. That you should put so little confidence in me!
Chrem. I can’t believe you have so little trust in me!
Dem. Do you wish me to believe you? Do you wish me to consider this as quite certain? Very well, be it so. Well, what’s to be done with our friend’s79 daughter?
Dem. Do you want me to believe you? Do you want me to take this as totally true? Fine, let it be. So, what should we do about our friend's79 daughter?
Chrem. She’ll do well enough.
Chrem. She'll be fine.
Dem. Are we to drop her, then?
Dem. Are we going to let her go, then?
Chrem. Why not?
Chrem. Why not?
Dem. The other one to stop?
Dem. The other one to quit?
Chrem. Just so.
Chrem. Exactly.
Dem. You may go then, Nausistrata.
You can go now, Nausistrata.
Naus. I’ faith, I think it better for all that she should remain here as it is, than as you first intended; for she seemed to me a very genteel person when I saw her.
Nausea. Honestly, I think it's better for everyone if she stays here as things are, instead of how you originally planned; because she seemed to me like a very classy person when I saw her.
Goes into her house.
Enters her home.
Scene V.
Demipho and Chremes.
Demipho and Chremes.
Dem. What is the meaning of all this?
Dem. What's all this about?
Chrem. (looking at the door of his house.) Has she shut the door yet?
Chrem. (looking at the door of his house.) Has she closed the door yet?
Dem. Now she has.
Dem. Now she’s got it.
Chrem. O Jupiter! the Gods do befriend us; I have found that it is my daughter married to your son.
Chrem. Oh Jupiter! The Gods are on our side; I’ve discovered that my daughter is married to your son.
Dem. Ha! How can that possibly be?
Ha! How is that possible?
Chrem. This spot is not exactly suited for me to tell it you.
Chrem. This place isn't really the right one for me to share this with you.
Dem. Well then, step in-doors.
Dem. Well then, come inside.
Chrem. Hark you, I don’t wish our sons even to come to know of this.
Chrem. Listen, I don't want our sons to find out about this.
They go into Demipho’s house.
They enter Demipho’s house.
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Scene VI.
Enter Antipho.
Enter Antipho.
Ant. I’m glad that, however my own affairs go, my brother has succeeded in his wishes. How wise it is to cherish desires of that nature in the mind, that when things run counter, you may easily find a cure for them! He has both got the money, and released himself from care; I, by no method, can extricate myself from these troubles; on the contrary, if the matter is concealed, I am in dread—but if disclosed, in disgrace. Neither should I now go home, were not a hope still presented me of retaining her. But where, I wonder, can I find Geta, that I may ask him what opportunity he would recommend me to take for meeting my father?
Ant. I’m glad that, no matter how my own situation turns out, my brother has achieved his goals. It’s so smart to keep desires like that in mind, so when things go wrong, you can easily find a way to fix them! He’s got the money and freed himself from worries; I, on the other hand, can’t escape these problems. If I keep it hidden, I'm scared—but if I reveal it, I’ll be humiliated. I wouldn’t even think about going home if I didn’t still have hope of keeping her. But where can I find Geta? I need to ask him what advice he has for meeting my father.
Scene VII.
Enter Phormio, at a distance.
Enter Phormio, from afar.
Phor. (to himself.) I received the money; handed it over to the Procurer; brought away the woman, that Phædria might have her as his own—for she has now become free. Now there is one thing still remaining for me to manage,—to get a respite from the old gentlemen for carousing; for I’ll enjoy myself the next few days.
Pharmacy. (to himself.) I got the money; gave it to the Procurer; took the woman away so Phædria could have her for himself—since she is now free. Now I just need to figure out how to get the old man to give me a break so I can party; I’m going to have some fun the next few days.
Ant. But here’s Phormio. (Going up to him.) What have you to say?
Ant. But here’s Phormio. (Going up to him.) What do you want to say?
Phor. About what?
Phor. About what now?
Ant. Why—what’s Phædria going to do now? In what way does he say that he intends to take his fill of love?
Ant. Why—what’s Phædria up to now? How does he say he plans to indulge in love?
Phor. In his turn, he’s going to act your part.
Pharmaceutical. Now it's his turn to play your role.
Ant. What part?
What role?
Phor. To run away from his father; he begs that you in your return will act on his behalf—to plead his cause for him. For he’s going to carouse at my house. I shall tell the old man that I’m going to Sunium, to the fair, to purchase the female servant that Geta mentioned a while since, so that, 350 when they don’t see me here, they mayn’t suppose that I’m squandering their money. But there is a noise at the door of your house.
Phor. He wants to escape from his father; he asks that you, when you come back, represent him—to advocate for him. Because he’s planning to party at my place. I’ll tell the old man that I’m going to Sunium for the fair to buy the female servant that Geta mentioned earlier, so that when they don’t see me here, they won’t think I’m wasting their money. But there’s a noise at your door.
Ant. See who’s coming out.
Ant. Check who's coming out.
Phor. It’s Geta.
Phor. It's Geta.
Scene VIII.
Enter Geta, at a distance, hastily, from the house of Demipho.
Enter Geta (Japanese sandals), quickly, from the house of Demipho.
Geta. (to himself.) O fortune! O good luck!80 with blessings how great, how suddenly hast thou loaded this day with thy favors to my master Antipho!—
Geta sandals. (to himself.) Oh, fortune! Oh, good luck! With such great blessings, how suddenly have you filled this day with your favors for my master Antipho!—
Ant. (apart to Phormio.) I wonder what it is he means.
Ant. (aside to Phormio.) I’m curious about what he means.
Geta. (continuing.) And relieved us, his friends, from alarm; but I’m now delaying, in not throwing my cloak81 over my shoulder (throws it over his shoulder), and making haste to find him, that he may know what has happened.
Geta sandals. (continuing.) And relieved us, his friends, from worry; but I’m now hesitating, not throwing my cloak81 over my shoulder (throws it over his shoulder), and rushing to find him, so he knows what’s happened.
Ant. (apart to Phormio.) Do you understand what he’s talking about?
Ant. (aside to Phormio.) Do you get what he's talking about?
Phor. (apart to Antipho.) Do you?
Do you?
Ant. (apart to Phormio.) Not at all.
Not at all.
Phor. (apart to Antipho.) And I just as much.
Same here.
Geta. (to himself.) I’ll be off hence to the Procurer’s; they are there just now. (Runs along.)
Geta sandals. (to himself.) I’m heading over to the Procurer’s; they’re there right now. (Runs along.)
Ant. (calling out.) Halloo! Geta!
Ant. (calling out.) Hey! Geta!
Geta. (still running.) There’s for you. Is it any thing new or wonderful to be called back, directly you’ve started?
Geta sandals. (still running.) There you go. Is it anything new or amazing to be called back right after you’ve started?
Ant. Geta!
Geta!
Geta. Do you persist? Troth, you shall not on this occasion get the better of me by your annoyance.
Geta. Are you still at it? Honestly, you won't get the best of me this time with your annoyance.
Ant. (running after him.) Won’t you stop?
Ant. (running after him.) Will you just stop?
Geta. You’ll be getting a beating.
Geta. You're getting a beatdown.
Ant. Assuredly that will befall yourself just now unless you stop, you whip-knave.
Ant. That will definitely happen to you right now if you don't stop, you idiot.
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Geta. This must be some one pretty familiar, threatening me with a beating. (Turns round.) But is it the person I’m in search of or not? ’Tis the very man! Up to him at once.
Geta sandals. This has to be someone I know well, threatening me with a beating. (Turns around.) But is this the person I'm looking for or not? It's definitely the guy! I'll go right up to him.
Ant. What’s the matter?
Ant. What’s wrong?
Geta. O being most blessed of all men living! For without question, Antipho, you are the only favorite of the Gods.
Wooden sandals. Oh, you are the most blessed of all people alive! Because there's no doubt, Antipho, you are the only one favored by the Gods.
Ant. So I could wish; but I should like to be told why I’m to believe it is so.
Ant. I wish that were the case; but I’d really like to know why I should believe it is.
Geta. Is it enough if I plunge you into a sea of joy?
Geta sandals. Is it enough if I immerse you in a sea of joy?
Ant. You are worrying me to death.
Ant. You're stressing me out.
Phor. Nay but do have done with your promises, and tell us what you bring.
Pharmacy. But please, stop with your promises and just tell us what you have.
Geta. (looking round.) Oh, are you here too, Phormio?
Flip-flops. (looking around.) Oh, you're here too, Phormio?
Phor. I am: but why do you delay?
Phor. I am: but why are you waiting?
Geta. Listen, then. When we just now paid you the money at the Forum, we went straight to Chremes; in the mean time, my master sent me to your wife.
Geta shoes. Listen up. When we just paid you the money at the Forum, we went straight to Chremes; in the meantime, my master sent me to your wife.
Ant. What for?
Ant. What's the reason?
Geta. I’ll omit telling you that, as it is nothing to the present purpose, Antipho. Just as I was going to the woman’s apartments, the boy Mida came running up to me, and caught me behind by my cloak, and pulled me back; I turned about, and inquired for what reason he stopped me; he said that it was forbidden for any one to go in to his mistress. “Sophrona has just now,” said he, “introduced here Chremes, the old gentleman’s brother,” and he said that he was then in the room with them: when I heard this, on tip-toe I stole softly along; I came there, stood, held my breath, I applied my ear, and so began to listen, catching the conversation every word in this fashion (shows them).
Geta sandals. I won’t bother telling you that, since it doesn’t really matter right now, Antipho. Just as I was heading to the woman’s quarters, the boy Mida came sprinting up to me, grabbed the back of my cloak, and pulled me back. I turned around and asked him why he stopped me; he said it was forbidden for anyone to go in to see his mistress. “Sophrona just now,” he said, “introduced Chremes, the old man’s brother,” and he mentioned that he was in the room with them. When I heard this, I quietly tiptoed closer; I got there, stopped, held my breath, pressed my ear to the door, and began to listen, catching every word of the conversation like this (shows them).
Ant. Well done, Geta.
Ant. Great job, Geta.
Geta. Here I overheard a very pretty piece of business; so much so that I had nearly cried out for joy.
Geta. I just overheard something really exciting; it was so amazing that I almost shouted out with joy.
Ant. What was it?
What was it?
Geta. (laughing.) What do you think?
Geta. (laughing.) What do you think?
Ant. I don’t know.
Ant. I have no idea.
Geta. Why, something most marvelous. Your uncle has been discovered to be the father of your wife, Phanium.
Geta sandals. Wow, this is something truly amazing. Your uncle has been found out to be the father of your wife, Phanium.
Ant. (starting.) Ha! what’s that you say?
Ant. (starting.) Ha! What did you just say?
Geta. He formerly cohabited secretly with her mother at Lemnos.
Geta sandals. He used to secretly live with her mother on Lemnos.
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Phor. A dream: how could she be ignorant about her own father?
Phore. A dream: how could she not know about her own father?
Geta. Be sure, Phormio, that there is some reason: but do you suppose that, outside of the door, I was able to understand every thing that passed between them within?
Geta sandals. You can be sure of that, Phormio, there's a reason for it: but do you really think that I could understand everything that was said between them inside, just from outside the door?
Ant. On my faith, I too have heard the same story.
Ant. I swear, I’ve heard the same story too.
Geta. Aye, and I’ll give you still further reason for believing it: your uncle in the mean time came out from there; not long after he returned again, with your father; each said that he gave you permission to retain her; in fine, I’ve been sent to find you, and bring you to them.
Geta. Yeah, and I’ll give you even more reason to believe it: your uncle came out from there; not long after, he came back with your dad; both said they gave you permission to keep her. In short, I’ve been sent to find you and take you to them.
Ant. Why then carry me off82 at once;—why do you delay?
Ant. Why are you taking me away82 immediately;—why are you waiting?
Geta. I’ll do so.
Geta. I’ll take care of it.
Ant. O my dear Phormio, farewell!
Ant. O my dear Phormio, goodbye!
Phor. Farewell, Antipho.
Phor. Goodbye, Antipho.
Antipho and Geta go into Demipho’s house.
Antipho and Geta enter Demipho’s house.
Scene IX.
Phormio, alone.
Phormio, by himself.
Phor. So may the Gods bless me, this has turned out luckily. I’m glad of it, that such good fortune has thus suddenly befallen them. I have now an excellent opportunity for diddling the old men, and ridding Phædria of all anxiety about the money, so that he mayn’t be under the necessity of applying to any of his companions. For this same money, as it has been given him, shall be given for good, whether they like it or not: how to force them to this, I’ve found out the very way. I must now assume a new air and countenance. But I’ll betake myself off to this next alley; from that spot I’ll present myself to them, when they come 353 out of doors. I sha’n’t go to the fair, where I pretended I was going.
Pharmacy. Thank the Gods, this has turned out well. I’m really happy about it; such good luck has suddenly come their way. I now have a great chance to trick the old men and spare Phædria from worrying about the money, so he doesn’t have to rely on any of his friends. The same money that was given to him will be given for good, whether they like it or not: I’ve figured out exactly how to make that happen. I need to put on a different look and demeanor now. But I’ll head over to this next alley; from there, I’ll approach them when they come outside. I won’t go to the fair, where I said I was headed. 353
He retires into the alley.
He goes into the alley.
ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Enter Demipho and Chremes, from Demipho’s house.
Enter Demipho and Chremes from Demipho’s house.
Dem. I do give and return hearty thanks to the Gods, and with reason, brother, inasmuch as these matters have turned out for us so fortunately. We must now meet with Phormio as soon as possible, before he squanders our thirty minæ, so that we may get them from him.
Dem. I'm really grateful to the gods and for good reason, brother, since things have turned out so well for us. We need to meet with Phormio as soon as we can, before he spends our thirty minæ, so we can get them back from him.
Enter Phormio, coming forward, and speaking aloud, as though not seeing them.
Enter Phormio, walking in and talking out loud, as if he doesn’t see them.
Phor. I’ll go see if Demipho’s at home; that as to what83—
Pharmacy. I'm going to check if Demipho is home; as for what83—
Dem. (accosting him.) Why, Phormio, we were coming to you.
Dem. (approaching him.) Hey, Phormio, we were on our way to see you.
Phor. Perhaps about the very same affair. (Demipho nods assent.) I’ faith, I thought so. What were you coming to my house for? Ridiculous; are you afraid that I sha’n’t do what I have once undertaken? Hark you, whatever is my poverty, still, of this one thing I have taken due care, not to forfeit my word.
PhD. Maybe about the same thing. (Demipho nods in agreement.) I honestly thought so. What were you coming to my house for? It’s silly; are you worried that I won’t follow through on what I’ve promised? Listen, no matter how poor I am, I’ve made sure of one thing: I won’t break my word.
Chrem. (to Demipho.) Is she not genteel-looking,84 just as I told you?
Chrem. (to Demipho.) Doesn’t she look classy, just like I said?
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Dem. Very much so.
Absolutely.
Phor. And this is what I’m come to tell you, Demipho, that I’m quite ready; whenever you please, give me my wife. For I postponed all my other business, as was fit I should, when I understood that you were so very desirous to have it so.
Pharmacy. And this is what I’m here to tell you, Demipho: I’m completely ready; whenever you want, give me my wife. I put all my other business on hold, as I should have, when I realized how much you wanted it to happen.
Dem. (pointing to Chremes.) But he has dissuaded me from giving her to you. “For what,” says he, “will be the talk among people if you do this? Formerly, when she might have been handsomely disposed of, then she wasn’t given; now it’s a disgrace for her to be turned out of doors, a repudiated woman;” pretty nearly, in fact, all the reasons which you yourself, some little time since, were urging to me.
Dem. (pointing to Chremes.) But he convinced me not to give her to you. "What will people say if you do this?" he asked. "Before, when she could have been properly matched, she wasn’t given to anyone; now it would be a shame for her to be turned out, a rejected woman;" almost all the reasons you yourself were just telling me a little while ago.
Phor. Upon my faith, you are treating me in a very insulting manner.
Phor. Honestly, you’re being really insulting to me.
Dem. How so?
Dem. How come?
Phor. Do you ask me? Because I shall not be able to marry the other person I mentioned; for with what face shall I return to her whom I’ve slighted?
Pharmaceutical. Are you asking me? Because I won't be able to marry the other person I mentioned; how can I face her after I've disrespected her?
Chrem. Then besides, I see that Antipho is unwilling to part with her. (Aside, prompting Demipho.) Say so.
Chrem. So, I can tell that Antipho doesn't want to let her go. (Aside, urging Demiphon.) Just say it.
Dem. Then besides, I see that my son is very unwilling to part with the damsel. But have the goodness to step over to the Forum, and order this money to be transferred to my account,85 Phormio.
Dem. Additionally, I can tell that my son really doesn’t want to say goodbye to the girl. But please do me a favor and go to the Forum to make sure this money is transferred to my account, 85 Phormio.
Phor. What, when I’ve paid it over to the persons to whom I was indebted?
Phor. What, after I’ve paid back the people I owed?
Dem. What’s to be done, then?
Dem. What’s the plan, then?
Phor. If you will let me have her for a wife, as you promised, I’ll take her; but if you prefer that she should stay with you, the portion must stay with me, Demipho. For it isn’t fair that I should be misled for you, as it was for your own sakes that I broke off with the other woman, who was to have brought me a portion just as large.
Phor. If you’ll let me marry her, like you said you would, I’ll accept; but if you want her to stay with you, then the dowry should come to me, Demipho. It’s not fair for me to be misled for your benefit, especially since I ended things with the other woman, who was going to bring me a dowry just as big.
Dem. Away with you to utter perdition, with this swaggering, you vagabond. What, then, do you fancy we don’t know you, or your doings?
Dem. Get lost to total destruction, you cocky drifter. What, do you think we don’t know you or what you’re up to?
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Phor. You are provoking me.
Phor. You're pushing my buttons.
Dem. Would you have married her, if she had been given to you?
Dem. Would you have married her if she had been offered to you?
Phor. Try the experiment.
Phor. Give the experiment a shot.
Dem. That my son might cohabit with her at your house, that was your design.
Dem. You wanted my son to live with her at your place, that was your plan.
Phor. Pray, what is that you say?
Phor. What did you just say?
Dem. Then do you give me my money?
Dem. So, are you going to give me my money?
Phor. Nay, but do you give me my wife?
Phor. No, but are you giving me my wife?
Dem. Come before a magistrate. (Going to seize hold of him.)
Dem. Step up to a judge. (About to grab him.)
Phor. Why, really, if you persist in being troublesome——
Pharmacy. Honestly, if you keep being a pain——
Dem. What will you do?
Dem. What are you going to do?
Phor. What, I? You fancy, perhaps, just now, that I am the protector of the portionless; for the well portioned,86 I’m in the habit of being so as well.
Phor. What, me? You might think that I’m the protector of those without resources; because, for those who are well-off, I tend to be like that too.
Chrem. What’s that to us?
Chrem. What does that matter to us?
Phor. (with a careless air.) Nothing at all. I know a certain lady here (pointing at Chremes’s house) whose husband had——
PhD. (with a careless air.) Nothing at all. I know a certain lady over there (pointing at Chremes’ house) whose husband had——
Chrem. (starting.) Ha!
Chrem. (starting.) Haha!
Dem. What’s the matter?
Dem. What's wrong?
Phor. Another wife at Lemnos—
Phor. Another wife at Lemnos—
Chrem. (aside.) I’m ruined!
Chrem. (aside.) I’m done for!
Phor. By whom he had a daughter; and her he is secretly bringing up.
Phore. He had a daughter with her, and he is raising her secretly.
Chrem. (aside.) I’m dead and buried!
Chrem. (aside.) I’m totally out of it!
Phor. This I shall assuredly now inform her of. (Walks toward the house.)
Pharmaceutical. I definitely need to tell her about this now. (Walks toward the house.)
Chrem. (running and catching hold of him.) I beg of you, don’t do so.
Chrem. (running and grabbing him.) Please, don’t do that.
Phor. (with a careless air.) Oh, were you the person?
Pharmacy. (with a nonchalant attitude.) Oh, were you the one?
Dem. What a jest he’s making of us.
Dem. What a joke he’s making of us.
Chrem. (to Phormio.) We’ll let you off.
Chrem. (to Phormio.) We’ll give you a pass.
Phor. Nonsense.
Phor. Nonsense.
Chrem. What would you have? We’ll forgive you the money you’ve got.
Chrem. What do you want? We’ll let you keep the money you have.
Phor. I hear you. Why the plague, then, do you two trifle with me in this way, you silly men, with your childish 356 speeches—“I won’t, and I will; I will, and I won’t,” over again: “keep it, give it me back; what has been said, is unsaid; what had been just a bargain, is now no bargain.”
Phor. I get you. So why on earth do you two mess around with me like this, you foolish guys, with your silly 356 talk—“I won’t, and I will; I will, and I won’t,” again and again: “keep it, give it back; what was said is now unsaid; what was just a deal is now no deal.”
Chrem. (aside, to Demipho.) In what manner, or from whom has he come to know of this?
Chrem. (aside, to Demipho.) How did he find out about this, and who told him?
Dem. (aside.) I don’t know; but that I’ve told it to no one, I know for certain.
Dem. (aside.) I don’t know; but I’m sure I haven’t told anyone.
Chrem. (aside.) So may the Gods bless me, ’tis as good as a miracle.
Chrem. (aside.) If the Gods are good to me, this is practically a miracle.
Phor. (aside, to himself.) I’ve graveled them.
Phor. (aside, to himself.) I’ve messed them up.
Dem. (apart, to Chremes.) Well now, is he to be carrying off87 from us such a sum of money as this, and so palpably to impose upon us? By heavens, I’d sooner die. Manage to show yourself of resolute and ready wit. You see that this slip of yours has got abroad, and that you can not now possibly conceal it from your wife; it is then more conducive to our quiet, Chremes, ourselves to disclose what she will be hearing from others; and then, in our own fashion, we shall be able to take vengeance upon this dirty fellow.
Dem. (aside, to Chremes.) So, is he really planning to take such a huge amount of money from us and fool us like this? Honestly, I’d rather die. You need to be bold and clever about this. You know that your mistake has gotten out, and you can't hide it from your wife now; it’s better for us to be the ones to tell her before she hears it from someone else. Then, we can deal with this slimy guy in our own way.
Phor. (aside, to himself.) Good lack-a-day, now’s the sticking-point, if I don’t look out for myself. They are making toward me with a gladiatorial air.
Pharmacy. (aside, to himself.) Oh man, this is the real challenge if I don’t take care of myself. They’re coming at me like they’re ready to fight.
Chrem. (apart, to Demipho.) But I doubt whether it’s possible for her to be appeased.
Chrem. (aside, to Demiphon.) But I’m not sure if she can be calmed down.
Dem. (apart, to Chremes.) Be of good courage; I’ll effect a reconciliation between you; remembering this, Chremes, that she is dead88 and gone by whom you had this girl.
Dem. (aside, to Chremes.) Stay strong; I'll make peace between you two. Just remember, Chremes, that she is dead88 and gone, the one who gave you this girl.
Phor. (in a loud voice.) Is this the way you are going to deal with me? Very cleverly done. Come on with you. By heavens, Demipho, you have provoked me, not to his advantage (pointing at Chremes). How say you? (addressing Chremes). When you’ve been doing abroad just as you pleased, and have had no regard for this excellent lady here, 357 but on the contrary, have been injuring her in an unheard-of manner, would you be coming to me with prayers to wash away your offenses? On telling her of this, I’ll make her so incensed with you, that you sha’n’t quench her, though you should melt away into tears.
Phor. (in a loud voice.) Is this how you're going to treat me? Very clever indeed. Come on now. By God, Demipho, you’ve really pushed me, and not to his advantage (pointing at Chremes). What do you say? (addressing Chremes) While you’ve been off doing whatever you wanted and ignoring this wonderful lady here, 357 you’ve actually been harming her in unimaginable ways. Would you come to me asking for forgiveness? When I tell her about this, I’ll make her so furious with you that you won’t be able to calm her down, even if you cry your eyes out.
Dem. (aside.) A plague may all the Gods and Goddesses send upon him. That any fellow should be possessed of so much impudence! Does not this villain deserve to be transported hence to some desolate land at the public charge?
Dem. (aside.) May all the gods and goddesses bring down a curse upon him. How can anyone have so much nerve! Doesn't this jerk deserve to be sent off to some deserted place at the public's expense?
Chrem. (aside.) I am brought to such a pass, that I really don’t know what to do in it.
Chrem. (aside.) I’ve reached a point where I honestly don’t know what to do anymore.
Dem. I know; let’s go into court.
Dem. I know; let’s head to court.
Phor. Into court? Here in preference (pointing to Chremes’s house), if it suits you in any way. (Moves toward the house.)
Ph.D. To court? Here instead (pointing to Chremes’ house), if that works for you. (Moves toward the house.)
Dem. (to Chremes.) Follow him, and hold him back, till I call out the servants.
Dem. (to Chremes.) Go after him and stop him until I call the servants.
Chrem. (trying to seize Phormio.) But I can’t by myself; run and help me.
Chrem. (trying to grab Phormio.) But I can't do it alone; go and help me.
Phor. (to Demipho, who seizes hold of him.) There’s one action of damages against you.
Phor. (to Demipho, who grabs him.) You’re facing a lawsuit for damages.
Chrem. Sue him at law, then.
Chrem. Sue him in court, then.
Phor. And another with you, Chremes.
Phor. And another with you, Chremes.
Dem. Lay hold of him. (They both drag him.)
Dem. Grab him. (They both pull him.)
Phor. Is it thus you do? Why then I must exert my voice: Nausistrata, come out (calling aloud).
Phor. Is this how you act? Then I have to raise my voice: Nausistrata, come out (calling aloud).
Chrem. (to Demipho.) Stop his mouth.
Chrem. (to Demipho.) Shut him up.
Dem. See how strong the rascal is.
Dem. Look at how strong this guy is.
Phor. (calling aloud.) Nausistrata, I say.
Phor. (calling out.) Nausistrata, I'm saying.
Chrem. Will you not hold your tongue?
Chrem. Can you please be silent?
Phor. Hold my tongue?
Phor. Keep my mouth shut?
Dem. (to Chremes, as they drag him along.) If he won’t follow, plant your fists in his stomach.
Dem. (to Chremes, as they pull him along.) If he won’t cooperate, punch him in the gut.
Phor. Or e’en gouge out an eye. The time’s coming when I shall have a full revenge on you.
Pharmacy. Or even gouge out an eye. The time is coming when I will get complete revenge on you.
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Scene II.
Enter Nausistrata, in haste, from the house.
Enter Nausistrata, rushing out of the house.
Naus. Who calls my name?
Naus. Who's calling my name?
Chrem. (in alarm.) Ha!
Chrem. (in alarm.) Wow!
Naus. My husband, pray what means this disturbance?
Nausea. My husband, what is going on with this disruption?
Phor. (to Chremes.) Oh, oh, why are you mute now?
Phosphor. (to Chremes.) Oh, come on, why are you silent now?
Naus. Who is this man? Won’t you answer me?
Nauseous. Who is this guy? Can you tell me?
Phor. What, he to answer you? who, upon my faith, doesn’t know where he is.
Pharmacy. What, is he going to answer you? I swear, he doesn’t even know where he is.
Chrem. (to Nausistrata.) Take care how you believe that fellow in any thing.
Chrem. (to Nausistrata.) Be careful about what you believe regarding that guy.
Phor. (to Nausistrata.) Go, touch him; if he isn’t in a cold sweat all over, why then kill me.
Phosphor. (to Nausistrata.) Go ahead, touch him; if he’s not drenched in a cold sweat, then go ahead and kill me.
Chrem. ’Tis nothing at all.
Chrem. It's nothing at all.
Naus. What is it, then, that this person is talking about?
Nausea. So, what is this person talking about?
Phor. You shall know directly; listen now.
Phor. You'll know soon; listen now.
Chrem. Are you resolved to believe him?
Chrem. Are you really going to believe him?
Naus. Pray, how can I believe him, when he has told me nothing?
Nausea. Seriously, how can I trust him when he hasn't told me anything?
Phor. The poor creature is distracted from fright.
Phor. The poor thing is scared and unable to focus.
Naus. It isn’t for nothing, i’ faith, that you are in such a fright.
Nausea. There's a good reason, honestly, that you’re so scared.
Chrem. What, I in a fright?
Chrem. What, am I scared?
Phor. (to Chremes.) All right, of course: since you are not in a fright at all, and this is nothing at all that I’m going to tell, do you relate it.
Phor. (to Chremes.) Okay, fine: since you’re not scared at all, and this is nothing serious that I’m about to say, go ahead and share it.
Dem. Villain, is he to relate it at your request?
Dem. Is he going to tell it at your request?
Phor. (to Demipho.) Come now, you’ve managed nicely for your brother.
Phora. (to Demipho.) Come on, you've done well for your brother.
Naus. My husband, will you not tell me?
Nausea. Will you not tell me, my husband?
Chrem. But—
Chrem. But—
Naus. But what?
Naus. But what’s going on?
Chrem. There’s no need to tell you.
Chrem. No need to explain.
Phor. Not for you, indeed; but there’s need for her to know it. At Lemnos—
Phor. Not for you, definitely; but she needs to know it. At Lemnos—
Chrem. (starting.) Ha! what are you doing?
Chrem. (starting.) Ha! What are you up to?
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Dem. (to Phormio.) Won’t you hold your tongue?
Dem. (to Phormio.) Can you please be quiet?
Phor. (to Nausistrata.) Unknown to you——
Phor. (to Nausistrata.) You don't know—
Chrem. Ah me!
Chrem. Oh man!
Phor. He married another——
Phor. He got married again—
Naus. My dear sir, may the Gods forbid it!
Naus. My dear sir, may the Gods prevent it!
Phor. Such is the fact.
Phor. That's the reality.
Naus. Wretch that I am, I’m undone!
Nauseous. What a wretched situation I'm in, I’m ruined!
Phor. And had a daughter by her, too, while you never dreamed of it.
Phor. And he had a daughter with her, too, while you never even thought about it.
Chrem. What are we to do?
Chrem. What should we do?
Naus. O immortal Gods!—a disgraceful and a wicked misdeed!
Nausea. O immortal Gods!—what a shameful and evil act!
Dem. (aside, to Chremes.) It’s all up with you.
Dem. (aside, to Chremes.) It's all on you.
Phor. Was ever any thing now more ungenerously done? Your men, who, when they come to their wives, then become incapacitated from old age.
Pharaoh. Has anything ever been done more unkindly? Your men, who, when they return to their wives, are then made useless by old age.
Naus. Demipho, I appeal to you; for with that man it is irksome for me to speak. Were these those frequent journeys and long visits at Lemnos? Was this the lowness of prices that reduced our rents?
Nausea. Demipho, I'm asking for your help; talking to that guy is really uncomfortable for me. Were those the many trips and long stays in Lemnos? Is this the low prices that brought down our rent?
Dem. Nausistrata, I don’t deny that in this matter he has been deserving of censure; but still, it may be pardoned.
Dem. Nausistrata, I won't argue that he deserves criticism in this situation; however, it might be forgivable.
Phor. (apart.) He is talking to the dead.
Pharmacy. (apart.) He talks to the dead.
Dem. For he did this neither through neglect or aversion to yourself. About fifteen years since, in a drunken fit, he had an intrigue with this poor woman, of whom this girl was born, nor did he ever touch her afterward. She is dead and gone: the only difficulty that remained in this matter. Wherefore, I do beg of you, that, as in other things, you’ll bear this with patience.
Dem. He didn't do this out of neglect or dislike for you. About fifteen years ago, in a drunken state, he had an affair with this poor woman, which resulted in the birth of this girl. He never saw her again afterward. She's gone now, which was the only remaining issue. Therefore, I ask you to be patient with this, as you are with other things.
Naus. Why should I with patience? I could wish, afflicted as I am, that there were an end now of this matter. But how can I hope? Am I to suppose that, at his age, he will not offend in future? Was he not an old man then, if old age makes people behave themselves decently? Are my looks and my age more attractive now, Demipho? What do you advance to me, to make me expect or hope that this will not happen any more?
Nauseous. Why should I be patient? I wish, given my suffering, that this whole situation would just come to an end. But how can I hold onto hope? Am I supposed to believe that, at his age, he won't mess up again? Wasn't he an old man back then, if age is supposed to make people act decently? Do my looks and my age seem more appealing now, Demipho? What can you tell me that makes me think or hope this won't happen again?
Phor. (in a loud voice.) Those who have89 a mind to come 360 to the funeral of Chremes, why now’s their time. ’Tis thus I retaliate: come now, let him challenge Phormio who pleases: I’ll have him victimized90 with just a like mischance. Why then, let him return again into her good graces. I have now had revenge enough. She has got something for her as long as she lives, to be forever ringing into his ears.
Pharmacy. (in a loud voice.) Those who want to come to Chremes' funeral, now's your chance. This is how I get back at him: let anyone challenge Phormio if they want; I'll make sure he suffers a similar fate. So, let him try to win her back. I've had enough revenge for now. She’s got something to hold over him for the rest of his life, always reminding him.
Naus. But it was because I deserved this, I suppose; why should I now, Demipho, make mention of each particular, how I have conducted myself toward him?
Nausea. But I guess I brought this on myself; why should I now, Demipho, go into detail about how I’ve treated him?
Dem. I know it all, as well as yourself.
Dem. I know everything just as well as you do.
Naus. Does it appear, then, that I deserved this treatment?
Nausea. So, do you really think I deserved this treatment?
Dem. Far from it: but since, by reproaching, it can not now be undone, forgive him: he entreats you—he begs your pardon—owns his fault—makes an apology. What would you have more?
Dem. Not at all: but since it can't be undone now that he's been called out, please forgive him. He’s asking you—he’s really sorry—admits he messed up—apologizes. What more do you want?
Phor. (aside.) But really, before she grants pardon to him, I must take care of myself and Phædria. (To Nausistrata.) Hark you, Nausistrata, before you answer him without thinking, listen to me.
Phor. (aside.) But honestly, before she forgives him, I need to look out for myself and Phædria. (To Nausistrata.) Hey Nausistrata, before you respond to him thoughtlessly, hear me out.
Naus. What’s the matter?
Naus. What's wrong?
Phor. I got out of him thirty minæ by a stratagem. I give them to your son; he paid them to a Procurer for his mistress.
Phoro. I got thirty minæ out of him using a trick. I’m giving them to your son; he paid them to a procurer for his girlfriend.
Chrem. Ha! what is it you say?
Chrem. Ha! What did you just say?
Phor. (sneeringly.) Does it seem to you so very improper for your son, a young man, to keep one mistress, while you have two wives? Are you ashamed of nothing? With what face will you censure him? Answer me that.
Pharmacy. (sneeringly.) Do you really think it’s so wrong for your son, a young man, to have one mistress while you have two wives? Aren’t you embarrassed by anything? How could you possibly criticize him? Answer me that.
Dem. He shall do as you wish.
Dem. He will do what you want.
Naus. Nay, that you may now know my determination. I neither forgive nor promise any thing, nor give any answer, 361 before I see my son: to his decision I leave every thing. What he bids me, I shall do.
Nausea. No, you should understand my decision clearly. I won't forgive, promise anything, or give any answers until I see my son. I leave everything up to him. I'll do whatever he tells me to do. 361
Dem. You are a wise woman, Nausistrata.
Dem. You are a smart woman, Nausistrata.
Naus. Does that satisfy you, Chremes?
Naus. Does that satisfy you, Chremes?
Chrem. Yes, indeed, I come off well, and fully to my satisfaction; indeed, beyond my expectation.
Chrem. Yes, truly, I’m in a good place, and I'm really satisfied; honestly, more than I expected.
Naus. (to Phormio.) Do you tell me, what is your name?
Nausea. (to Phormio.) Can you tell me your name?
Phor. What, mine? Phormio; a well-wisher to your family, upon my honor, and to your son Phaedria in particular.
Pharmacy. What, mine? Phormio; a friend to your family, I swear, and to your son Phaedria especially.
Naus. Then, Phormio, on my word, henceforward I’ll both do and say for you all I can, and whatever you may desire.
Nausea. So, Phormio, I promise that from now on, I’ll do everything I can for you and whatever you want.
Phor. You speak obligingly.
Phor. You talk nicely.
Naus. I’ faith, it is as you deserve.
Nauseous. Honestly, it's exactly what you deserve.
Phor. First, then, will you do this, Nausistrata, at once, to please me, and to make your husband’s eyes ache with vexation?
Pharmacy. First, will you do this, Nausistrata, right now, to please me and give your husband a serious headache from irritation?
Naus. With all my heart.
Naus. With all my heart.
Phor. Invite me to dinner.
Phor. Invite me for dinner.
Naus. Assuredly indeed, I do invite you.
Naus. Of course, you're invited.
Dem. Let us now away in-doors.
Dem. Let's head inside now.
Chrem. By all means; but where is Phaedria, our arbitrator?
Chrem. Absolutely; but where is Phaedria, our mediator?
Phor. I’ll have him here just now. (To the Audience.) Fare you well, and grant us your applause.91
Phor. I’ll have him here in a moment. (To the Audience.) Take care, and give us your applause.91
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ADDITIONAL SCENE.
Which is generally considered to be spurious.
Which is usually deemed to be false.
Enter Phædria and Phormio, from opposite sides of the stage.
Enter Phædria and Phormio, from opposite sides of the stage.
Phæd. Assuredly there is a God, who both hears and sees what we do. And I do not consider that to be true which is commonly said: “Fortune frames and fashions the affairs of mankind, just as she pleases.”
Phaedrus. Definitely, there is a God who hears and sees what we do. I don't believe in the idea that people often say: “Luck controls and shapes human affairs however it wants.”
Phor. (aside.) Heyday! what means this? I’ve met with Socrates, not Phædria, so far as I see. Why hesitate to go up and address him? (Accosting him.) How now, Phædria, whence have you acquired this new wisdom, and derived such great delight, as you show by your countenance?
Phor. (aside.) Wow! What’s going on here? I’ve come across Socrates, not Phædria, as far as I can tell. Why should I hesitate to go up and talk to him? (Approaching him.) So, Phædria, where did you gain this new insight and find such great joy, as your expression suggests?
Phæd. O welcome, my friend; O most delightful Phormio, welcome! There’s not a person in all the world I could more wish just now to meet than yourself.
Phaedrus. Oh, welcome, my friend; oh, wonderful Phormio, welcome! There’s no one in the world I’d rather meet right now than you.
Phor. Pray, tell me what is the matter.
Phor. Please, let me know what's wrong.
Phæd. Aye, faith, I have to beg of you, that you will listen to it. My Pamphila is a citizen of Attica, and of noble birth, and rich.
Phaedrus. Yes, I truly beg you to listen to this. My Pamphila is from Attica, comes from a noble family, and is wealthy.
Phor. What is it you tell me? Are you dreaming, pray?
Pharmacy. What are you saying? Are you dreaming, perhaps?
Phæd. Upon my faith, I’m saying what’s true.
PhD. I swear, I’m speaking the truth.
Phor. Yes, and this, too, is a true saying: “You’ll have no great difficulty in believing that to be true, which you greatly wish to be so.”
Pharmacy. Yes, and this is also a true saying: “It’s not hard to believe something is true when you really want it to be.”
Phæd. Nay, but do listen, I beg of you, to all the wonderful things I have to tell you of. It was while thinking of this to myself, that I just now burst forth into those expressions which you heard—that we, and what relates to us, are ruled by the sanction of the Gods, and not by blind chance.
Phaedrus. No, but please listen, I really want to share all the amazing things I have to tell you. It was while I was thinking about this that I suddenly started saying those things you heard—that we, and everything about us, are governed by the will of the Gods, not by random chance.
Phor. I’ve been for some time in a state of suspense.
Phor. I've been in a state of suspense for quite a while.
Phæd. Do you know Phanocrates?
Phæd. Do you know Phanocrates?
Phor. As well as I do yourself.
Phor. Just like I do yourself.
Phæd. The rich man?
Phaedrus. The wealthy guy?
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Phor. I understand.
Phor. I get it.
Phæd. He is the father of Pamphila. Not to detain you, these were the circumstances: Calchas was his servant, a worthless, wicked fellow. Intending to run away from the house, he carried off this girl, whom her father was bringing up in the country, then five years old, and, secretly taking her with him to Eubæa, sold her to Lycus, a merchant. This person, a long time after, sold her, when now grown up, to Dorio. She, however, knew that she was the daughter of parents of rank, inasmuch as she recollected herself being attended and trained up by female servants: the name of her parents she didn’t recollect.
Phaedrus. He is Pamphila's father. To get to the point, here’s what happened: Calchas was his servant, a worthless, wicked guy. Planning to escape from the house, he took this girl, who her father was raising in the countryside, at that time just five years old, and secretly took her with him to Eubæa, where he sold her to Lycus, a merchant. Much later, Lycus sold her, now all grown up, to Dorio. She, however, was aware that she came from a family of status since she remembered being cared for and raised by female servants, but she couldn’t recall her parents' names.
Phor. How, then, were they discovered?
Phor. So, how were they found?
Phæd. Stay; I was coming to that. This runaway was caught yesterday, and sent back to Phanocrates: he related the wonderful circumstances I have mentioned about the girl, and how she was sold to Lycus, and afterward to Dorio. Phanocrates sent immediately, and claimed his daughter; but when he learned that she had been sold, he came running to me.
Phaedrus. Hold on; I was just getting to that. This runaway was caught yesterday and sent back to Phanocrates. He shared the amazing story I mentioned about the girl, how she was sold to Lycus and then to Dorio. Phanocrates immediately sent someone to claim his daughter, but when he found out she had already been sold, he came running to me.
Phor. O, how extremely fortunate!
Phor. Oh, how lucky!
Phæd. Phanocrates has no objection to my marrying her; nor has my father, I imagine.
Phèd. Phanocrates doesn't mind me marrying her; and I assume my father doesn't either.
Phor. Trust me for that; I’ll have all this matter managed for you; Phormio has so arranged it, that you shall not be a suppliant to your father, but his judge.
Pharmacy. Trust me on this; I'll handle everything for you. Phormio has set it up so that you won't be begging your father for anything, but rather deciding what's to be done.
Phæd. You are joking.
Phæd, you must be kidding.
Phor. So it is, I tell you. Do you only give me the thirty minæ which Dorio—
Phor. So it is, I tell you. Just give me the thirty minæ that Dorio—
Phæd. You put me well in mind; I understand you; you may have them; for he must give them back, as the law forbids a free woman to be sold; and, on my faith, I do rejoice that an opportunity is afforded me of rewarding you, and taking a hearty vengeance upon him; a monster of a fellow! he has feelings more hardened than iron.
Phaedrus. You remind me; I get you; you can have them; he’ll have to return them, since it’s against the law to sell a free woman; and honestly, I’m glad I have the chance to reward you and get some serious payback on him; that guy is a real monster! He’s got feelings harder than iron.
Phor. Now, Phædria, I return you thanks; I’ll make you a return upon occasion, if ever I have the opportunity. You impose a heavy task upon me, to be contending with you in good offices, as I can not in wealth; and in affection and zeal, I must repay you what I owe. To be surpassed in deserving well, is a disgrace to a man of principle.
Phor. Now, Phædria, thank you; I’ll find a way to return the favor whenever I get the chance. You’re putting a lot on me by making me compete with you in kindness, since I can’t match you in wealth; and out of love and dedication, I have to repay you what I owe. It’s a shame for a person of integrity to be outdone in doing good.
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Phæd. Services badly bestowed, I take to be disservices. But I do not know any person more grateful and more mindful of a service than yourself. What is it you were just now mentioning about my father?
Phaed. Poorly given help, I consider to be harmful. But I don't know anyone more thankful and more aware of a good deed than you. What were you just saying about my dad?
Phor. There are many particulars, which at present I have not the opportunity to relate. Let’s go in-doors, for Nausistrata has invited me to dinner, and I’m afraid we may keep them waiting.
Pharmacy. There are a lot of details I can't share right now. Let's head inside because Nausistrata has invited me to dinner, and I'm worried we might keep them waiting.
Phæd. Very well; follow me. (To the Audience.) Fare you well, and grant us your applause.
Phaedrus. Alright; come with me. (To the Audience.) Thank you, and please give us your applause.
FOOTNOTES
1. From δημὸς, “the people,” and φῶς “light”.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From δημὸς, “the people,” and φῶς “light.”
5. From φορμὸς, “an osier basket.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From φορμὸς, “a wicker basket.”
9. From κρατὸς, “strength.”
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From κρατὸς, “power.”
14. The Roman Games)—The “ludi Romani,” or “Roman Games,” were first established by Ancus Marcius, and were celebrated in the month of September.
14. The Roman Games)—The “ludi Romani,” or “Roman Games,” were first started by Ancus Marcius and were held in September.
15. Four times)—The numerals signifying “four,” Donatus takes to mean that this was the fourth Play composed by Terence; it is, however, more generally supposed that the meaning is, that it was acted four times in one year.
15. Four times)—The number “four” signifies that this was the fourth play written by Terence; however, it's more commonly understood that it means it was performed four times in one year.
16. Being Consuls)—M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius Strabo were Consuls in the year from the Building of the City 591, and B.C. 162.
16. Being Consuls)—M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius Strabo were Consuls in the year 591 from the founding of the City, which is 162 B.C.
17. Since the old Poet)—Ver. 1. He alludes to his old enemy, Luscus Lavinius, who is mentioned in all his Prologues, except those to the Hecyra.
17. Since the old Poet)—Ver. 1. He refers to his longtime rival, Luscus Lavinius, who is mentioned in all his Prologues, except for those to the Hecyra.
18. While one implored)—Ver. 8. “Et eam plorare, orare ut subveniat sibi.” This is probably in allusion to some absurd passage in one of the Plays of Lavinius. It is generally supposed to mean, that the stag implores the young man; but as the youth is mad, the absurdity, of the passage is heightened if we suppose that he implores the stag, and, in the moment of its own danger, entreats it to come to his own assistance; as certainly the Latin will admit of that interpretation.—Ovid has a somewhat similar passage in the Pontic Epistles, B. ii. Ep. ii. l. 39: “The hind that, in its terror, is flying from the savage dogs, hesitates not to trust itself to the neighboring house.”
18. While one begged)—Ver. 8. “And it weeps, prays for help.” This probably refers to some ridiculous line in one of Lavinius's plays. It's generally thought that the stag is begging the young man; however, since the youth is mad, the absurdity of the situation increases if we imagine him begging the stag and, at the moment of its own peril, asking it for help; as the Latin can definitely support that interpretation.—Ovid has a somewhat similar line in the Pontic Epistles, B. ii. Ep. ii. l. 39: “The doe, terrified and fleeing from the savage dogs, doesn’t hesitate to trust itself to the nearby house.”
19. Epidicazomenos)—Ver. 25. A Play of Apollodorus, so called from that Greek word, signifying “one who demands justice from another,” in allusion to Phormio, who is the complainant in the suit, which is the foundation of the plot.
19. Epidicazomenos)—Ver. 25. A play by Apollodorus, named after the Greek word that means “one who demands justice from another,” referring to Phormio, who is the one filing the complaint in the case that forms the basis of the plot.
20. Was driven from the place)—Ver. 32. Alluding, probably, to the disturbances which took place at the first representation of the Hecyra, and which are mentioned in the Prologues to that Play.
20. Was driven from the place)—Ver. 32. This likely refers to the disruptions that occurred during the initial performance of the Hecyra, which are noted in the Prologues to that play.
21. Davus)—Davus is a protatic character, only introduced for the purpose of opening the story.
21. Davus)—Davus is a minor character, introduced solely to kick off the story.
22. Out of his allowance)—Ver. 43. Donatus tells us that the slaves received four “modii,” or measures of corn, each month, which was called their “demensum.”
22. Out of his allowance)—Ver. 43. Donatus tells us that the slaves got four “modii,” or measures of corn, each month, which was referred to as their “demensum.”
23. Will be struck)—Ver. 48. “Ferietur.” “To strike” a person for a present was said when it was extorted from him reluctantly. So in the Trinummuns of Plautus, l. 247, “Ibi illa pendentem ferit.” “Then does she strike while he is wavering.”
23. Will be struck)—Ver. 48. “Ferietur.” “To strike” a person for a gift was said when it was taken from him unwillingly. So in the Trinummus of Plautus, l. 247, “Ibi illa pendentem ferit.” “Then does she strike while he is unsure.”
24. For another present)—Ver. 48. Presents were usually made to persons on their birthday, on the day of their marriage, and on the birth of their children.
24. For another present)—Ver. 48. Gifts were typically given to people on their birthday, the day they got married, and when their children were born.
25. Initiate him)—Ver. 49. It is not known what initiation is here referred to. Madame Dacier thinks it was an initiation into the great mysteries of Ceres, which was commonly performed while children were yet very young; others suggest that it means the period of weaning the child, and initiating it into the use of another kind of diet. Donatus says, that Varro speaks of children being initiated into the mysteries of the Deities Edulia, Potica, and Cuba, the Divinities of Eating, Drinking, and Sleeping.
25. Initiate him)—Ver. 49. It's unclear what kind of initiation is being referred to here. Madame Dacier believes it was an initiation into the important mysteries of Ceres, typically done when children were very young; others propose that it refers to the time of weaning the child and introducing them to a different kind of diet. Donatus mentions that Varro talks about children being initiated into the mysteries of the Deities Edulia, Potica, and Cuba, the Goddesses of Eating, Drinking, and Sleeping.
26. Ready counted out)—Ver. 53. “Lectum,” literally “picked out” or “chosen”—the coins being of full weight.
26. Ready counted out)—Ver. 53. “Lectum,” meaning “picked out” or “chosen”—the coins being of full weight.
27. Have been angry with me)—Ver. 74. He alludes to the common belief that each person had a Genius or Guardian Deity; and that when misfortune overtook him, he had been abandoned by his Genius.
27. Have been angry with me)—Ver. 74. He refers to the common belief that everyone had a personal Genius or Guardian Deity; and that when misfortune struck, it meant he had been deserted by his Genius.
28. Kick against the spur)—Ver. 78. “To kick against the pricks,” or “in spite of the spur,” was a common Greek proverb. The expression occurs in the New Testament, Acts ix. 5. “It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.”
28. Kick against the spur)—Ver. 78. “To kick against the pricks,” or “despite the spur,” was a common Greek saying. The phrase appears in the New Testament, Acts ix. 5. “It is hard for you to kick against the pricks.”
29. To make your market)—Ver. 79. This is a metaphorical expression taken from traffic, in which merchants suit themselves to the times, and fix a price on their commodities, according to the course of the market.
29. To make your market)—Ver. 79. This is a metaphorical expression from trade, where merchants adapt to current conditions and set prices for their goods based on market trends.
30. To the school)—Ver. 86. It was the custom for the “lenones,” or “procurers,” to send their female slaves to music-schools, in order to learn accomplishments. So in the Prologue to the Rudens of Plautus: “This Procurer brought the maiden to Cyrene hither. A certain Athenian youth, a citizen of this city, beheld her us she was going home from the music-school.”
30. To the school)—Ver. 86. It was common for the “lenones,” or “pimps,” to send their female slaves to music schools to learn skills. As mentioned in the Prologue to Plautus's Rudens: “This pimp brought the girl to Cyrene here. A certain Athenian youth, a citizen of this city, saw her as she was coming home from the music school.”
31. Young man in tears)—Ver. 92. In the Play of Apollodorus, it was the barber himself that gave the account how he had just returned from cutting off the young woman’s hair, which was one of the usual ceremonies in mourning among the Greeks. Donatus remarks, that Terence altered this circumstance that he might not shock a Roman audience by a reference to manners so different from their own.
31. Young man in tears)—Ver. 92. In the Play of Apollodorus, it was the barber who described how he had just come back from cutting the young woman's hair, which was a common mourning practice among the Greeks. Donatus notes that Terence changed this detail so he wouldn’t offend a Roman audience by mentioning customs that were so different from theirs.
32. Take out a summons)—Ver. 127. “Dica” was the writ or summons with which an action at law was commenced.
32. Take out a summons)—Ver. 127. “Dica” was the legal notice or summons that started a lawsuit.
33. Usher to the Music-girl)—Ver. 144. This is said satirically of Phaedria, who was in the habit of escorting the girl to the music-school. It was the duty of the “pædagogi,” or “tutors,” to lead the children to school, who were placed under their care. See the speech of Lydus, the pædagogus of Pistoclerus, in the Bacchides of Plautus, Act iii. Sc. 3, where, enlarging upon his duties, he mentions this among them.
33. Usher to the Music-girl)—Ver. 144. This is said in a sarcastic tone about Phaedria, who used to take the girl to music school. It was the responsibility of the "pædagogi," or "tutors," to escort the children under their care to school. See the speech of Lydus, the pædagogus of Pistoclerus, in the Bacchides of Plautus, Act iii. Sc. 3, where he elaborates on his duties and includes this among them.
34. Sever from me this connection)—Ver. 161. By forcing him to divorce her.
34. Cut this connection off from me)—Ver. 161. By making him end their marriage.
35. Neither right)—Ver. 176. No right to get rid of her in consequence of the judgment which, at the suit of Phormio, has been pronounced against him; nor yet, right to keep her, because of his father insisting upon turning her out of doors.
35. Neither right)—Ver. 176. He has no right to dismiss her due to the judgment against him obtained by Phormio; nor does he have the right to keep her just because his father is demanding he kick her out.
36. Be washing a brickbat)—Ver. 187. “Laterem lavare,” “to wash a brick,” or “tile,” was a proverb signifying labor in vain, probably because (if the brick was previously baked) it was impossible to wash away the red color of it. According to some, the saying alluded to the act of washing a brick which had been only dried in the sun, in which case the party so doing both washed away the brick and soiled his own fingers.
36. Washing a brickbat)—Ver. 187. “To wash a brick” or “tile” was a saying that meant pointless effort, probably because (if the brick was already fired) you couldn't wash away its red color. According to some, the phrase referred to washing a brick that was just sun-dried, so the person ended up both washing the brick and getting their own hands dirty.
37. Here in reserve)—Ver. 230. “Succenturiatus.” The “succenturiati” were, properly, men intrusted to fill up vacancies in the centuries or companies, when thinned by battle.
37. Here in reserve)—Ver. 230. “Succenturiatus.” The “succenturiati” were, properly, men assigned to fill in gaps in the centuries or companies when they were reduced by battle.
38. Let alone “authority”)—Ver. 232. “Ac mitto imperium.” Cicero has quoted this passage in his Epistles to Atticus, B. ii. Ep. 19.
38. Not to mention “authority”)—Ver. 232. “Ac mitto imperium.” Cicero referenced this passage in his letters to Atticus, Book II, Letter 19.
39. When affairs are the most prosperous)—Ver. 241. Cicero quotes this passage in the Third Book of his Tusculan Questions, and the maxim here inculcated was a favorite one with the Stoic philosophers.
39. When things are going well)—Ver. 241. Cicero references this line in the Third Book of his Tusculan Questions, and the principle stated here was a popular one among the Stoic philosophers.
40. Any giving evidence)—Ver. 293. Slaves were neither allowed to plead for themselves, nor to give evidence. See the Curculio of Plautus, l. 621, and the Notes to the Andria.
40. Any evidence given)—Ver. 293. Slaves were not allowed to defend themselves or provide testimony. See the Curculio of Plautus, l. 621, and the Notes to the Andria.
41. Given her a portion)—Ver. 297. By this remark, Donatus observes that Terence artfully prepares us for the imposition of Phormio, who extorts money from the old gentleman on this very ground.
41. Given her a portion)—Ver. 297. With this comment, Donatus points out that Terence cleverly sets the stage for Phormio, who pressures the old man for money based on this very reason.
42. While you were living)—Ver. 302. There was a law at Athens which enacted that persons who lent money to young men in the lifetime of their parents should have no power to recover it. In line 303 of the Pseudolus, Plautus alludes to the Quinavicenarian or Lætorian Law, at Rome, which forbade credit to be given to persons under the age of twenty-five years, and deprived the creditor of all right to recover his money or goods.
42. While you were living)—Ver. 302. There was a law in Athens that stated anyone who lent money to young men while their parents were still alive could not get it back. In line 303 of the Pseudolus, Plautus refers to the Quinavicenarian or Lætorian Law in Rome, which prohibited giving credit to anyone under the age of twenty-five and left the creditor with no right to recover their money or goods.
43. The woman’s next friend)—Ver. 307. The “patronus” was the person who undertook to conduct a lawsuit for another.
43. The woman’s next friend)—Ver. 307. The “patronus” was the person who agreed to represent someone in a lawsuit.
44. Salute the household Gods)—Ver. 311. It was the custom for those returning from a voyage or journey, to give thanks to their household Gods for having protected them in their absence. Thus, in the Amphitryon of Plautus, Jupiter, while personating Amphitryon, pretends, in l. 983, that he is going to offer sacrifice for his safe return.
44. Salute the household Gods)—Ver. 311. It was customary for those coming back from a trip or journey to thank their household Gods for keeping them safe while they were away. For example, in Plautus's Amphitryon, Jupiter, while pretending to be Amphitryon, claims in line 983 that he's about to make a sacrifice for his safe return.
45. And so you say)—Ver. 315. Donatus tells the following story with reference to this passage: “This Play being once rehearsed before Terence and some of his most intimate acquaintances, Ambivius, who acted the part of Phormio, came in drunk, which threw the author into a violent passion; but Ambivius had scarcely repeated a few lines, stammering and scratching his head, before Terence became pacified, declaring that when he was writing these very lines, he had exactly such a Parasite as Ambivius then represented, in his thoughts.”
45. And so you say)—Ver. 315. Donatus shares this story related to this passage: “Once when this play was rehearsed in front of Terence and some of his close friends, Ambivius, who was playing Phormio, showed up drunk, which made the author really angry. But after Ambivius managed to mumble a few lines, stumbling and scratching his head, Terence calmed down, saying that when he was writing those very lines, he had exactly the kind of Parasite Ambivius was portraying in mind.”
46. Have hashed it up)—Ver. 318. He is thought to allude here, figuratively, to the composition of a dish called “moretum,” (in praise of which Virgil wrote a poem) which was composed of garlic, onions, cheese, eggs, and other ingredients, beaten up in a mortar. The allusion to eating is appropriately used in an address to a Parasite.
46. Have hashed it up)—Ver. 318. He is believed to be referring here, metaphorically, to a dish called “moretum,” (which Virgil praised in a poem) made of garlic, onions, cheese, eggs, and other ingredients, all mixed together in a mortar. The reference to eating is fittingly used in a speech to a freeloader.
47. Turn upon myself)—Ver. 323. Donatus observes that in this Scene Terence exhibits the lower order of Parasites, who ingratiated themselves by sharping and roguery, as in the Eunuchus he describes Parasites of a higher rank, and of a newer species, who obtained their ends by flattery.
47. Turn upon myself)—Ver. 323. Donatus notes that in this scene, Terence shows the lower class of parasites, who ingratiate themselves through trickery and deceit, whereas in the Eunuchus, he depicts parasites of a higher status and a different type, who achieve their goals through flattery.
48. In the stocks at last)—Ver. 325. “In nervum crumpat denique.” There are several interpretations suggested for these words. Some think they allude to the drawing of a bow till it breaks; but they are more generally thought to imply termination in corporal punishment. “Nervus” is supposed to have been the name of a kind of stocks used in torturing slaves, and so called from being formed, in part at least, of the sinews of animals.
48. Finally in stocks)—Ver. 325. “In nervum crumpat denique.” There are several interpretations offered for these words. Some believe they refer to drawing a bow until it breaks; however, they are more commonly interpreted as indicating an end to corporal punishment. “Nervus” is believed to be the name of a type of stocks used for torturing slaves, named in part because it was made from animal sinews.
49. They will take you)—Ver. 334. At Rome, insolvent debtors became the slaves of their creditors till their debts were paid.
49. They will take you)—Ver. 334. In Rome, if someone couldn't pay their debts, they would become the slaves of their creditors until they worked off what they owed.
50. To his patron)—Ver. 338. “Regi.” The Parasites were in the habit of calling their patron “Rex,” their “King.”
50. To his patron)—Ver. 338. “Regi.” The Parasites usually referred to their patron as “Rex,” meaning “King.”
51. At free cost)—Ver. 339. “Asymbolum.” Without having paid his “symbola,” or “club,” for the entertainment. Donatus informs us that the whole of this passage is borrowed from one of Ennius, which is still preserved.
51. For free)—Ver. 339. “Asymbolum.” Without having paid his “symbola,” or “club,” for the entertainment. Donatus tells us that this entire passage is taken from one of Ennius, which is still preserved.
52. First to drink)—Ver. 342. To be the first to drink, and to take the higher place on the couch when eating, was the privilege of the most honored guests, who usually bathed, and were then anointed before the repast.
52. First to drink)—Ver. 342. Being the first to drink and sitting in the most prestigious spot on the couch during meals was a privilege reserved for the most esteemed guests, who usually bathed and were anointed before the meal.
53. Banquet full of doubts)—Ver. 342. “Coena dubia.” Horace, who borrows many of his phrases from Terence, uses the same expression.
53. Banquet full of doubts)—Ver. 342. “Coena dubia.” Horace, who takes a lot of his phrases from Terence, uses the same term.
54. Since you reign alone)—Ver. 605. This is a remark well put into the mouth of an Athenian, as the public were very jealous of any person becoming paramount to the laws, and to prevent it, were frequently guilty of the most odious oppression.
54. Since you reign alone)—Ver. 605. This is a well-stated comment from an Athenian, as the citizens were very protective of the laws and often resorted to the most appalling oppression to ensure that no one rose above them.
55. So many minds)—Ver. 454. “Quot homines, tot sententiæ.” This is a famous adage. One similar to the succeeding one is found in the Second Eclogue of Virgil, l. 65: “Trahit sua quemque voluptas,” exactly equivalent to our saying, “Every man to his taste.”
55. So many minds)—Ver. 454. “As many people, so many opinions.” This is a well-known saying. A similar one appears in the Second Eclogue of Virgil, l. 65: “Each person is drawn by their own desires,” which is exactly like our saying, “To each their own.”
56. Must deliberate further)—Ver. 457. “Amplius deliberandum.” This is probably a satirical allusion to the judicial system of procrastination, which, by the Romans, was called “ampliatio.” When the judges could not come to a satisfactory conclusion about a cause, they signified it by the letters N. L. (for “non liquet,” “it is not clear”), and put off the suit for a rehearing.
56. Need to think more)—Ver. 457. “Must think more.” This likely sarcastically refers to the procrastinating legal system, which the Romans called “ampliatio.” When judges couldn't reach a satisfying decision on a case, they indicated this with the letters N. L. (for “non liquet,” “it is not clear”) and postponed the case for a later hearing.
57. Much more at a loss)—Ver. 459. See the Poenulus of Plautus, where advocates or assistants are introduced among the Dramatic Personæ. Colman has the following remarks on this quaint passage: “I believe there is no Scene in Comedy more highly seasoned with the ridiculous than this before us. The idea is truly comic, and it is worked up with all that simplicity and chastity so peculiar to the manner of Terence. An ordinary writer would have indulged himself in twenty little conceits on this occasion; but the dry gravity of Terence infinitely surpasses, as true humor, all the drolleries which, perhaps, even those great masters of Comedy, Plautus or Molière, might have been tempted to throw out. It is the highest art of a Dramatic Author, on some occasions, to leave a good deal to the Actor; and it has been remarked by Heinsius and others, that Terence was particularly attentive to this circumstance.”
57. Much more at a loss)—Ver. 459. See the Poenulus of Plautus, where advocates or assistants are introduced among the Dramatic Personae. Colman has the following comments on this unique passage: “I believe there is no scene in comedy more filled with the ridiculous than this one we have here. The concept is genuinely funny, and it's presented with all the simplicity and elegance that's characteristic of Terence's style. An average writer would have added numerous little jokes in this situation; however, Terence's straightforward seriousness far exceeds, as true humor, all the antics that even the great masters of comedy, like Plautus or Molière, might have been tempted to include. It's a high skill of a playwright, at times, to leave a lot for the actor to interpret; and it has been noted by Heinsius and others that Terence was especially mindful of this point.”
58. From his place of exercise)—Ver. 484. “Palæstra.” He alludes to the Procurer’s house under this name.
58. From his place of exercise)—Ver. 484. “Palæstra.” He refers to the Procurer’s house by this name.
59. Befall his own safety)—Ver. 490. Overhearing Phædria earnest and determined, and the Procurer obstinate and inflexible, Antipho and Geta join in apprehending that the brutality of the latter may provoke Phædria to some act of violence.
59. To protect his own safety)—Ver. 490. Hearing Phædria being so serious and determined, and the Procurer being stubborn and unyielding, Antipho and Geta become worried that the Procurer’s cruelty might push Phædria to do something violent.
60. With fine words)—Ver. 499. “Phaleratis dictis.” “Phaleræ” were, properly, the silver ornaments with which horses were decked out, and being only for show, and not for use, gave rise to this saying. “Ductes” was an obscene word, and not likely to be used by any but such characters as Dorio.
60. With fine words)—Ver. 499. “Phaleratis dictis.” “Phaleræ” were basically the silver decorations used to adorn horses, and since they were just for show and not practical, this saying came about. “Ductes” was a vulgar term, unlikely to be used by anyone except certain people like Dorio.
61. A wolf by the ears)—Ver. 505. A proverbial expression which, according to Suetonius, was frequently in the mouth of Tiberius Cæsar.
61. A wolf by the ears)—Ver. 505. A common saying that, according to Suetonius, Tiberius Caesar often used.
62. A word to the wise)—Ver. 540. “Dictum sapienti sat est.” The same proverb is found in the Persa of Plautus, l. 736.
62. A word to the wise)—Ver. 540. “A word to the wise is enough.” The same proverb is found in the Persa of Plautus, l. 736.
63. To shake myself)—Ver. 585. “Me excutiam.” In reference to the custom of the Greeks, and the Eastern nations, of shaking their clothes at the door of any house which they were going to leave.
63. To shake myself)—Ver. 585. “I will shake myself.” This refers to the tradition among the Greeks and Eastern cultures of shaking their clothes at the entrance of any house they were about to leave.
64. Rely on at home)—Ver. 586. “Nam ego meorum solus sum meus.” He means that he is the only person in his house friendly to himself, inasmuch as his wife, from her wealth, has supreme power over the domestics, in whom he himself can place no trust.
64. Rely on at home)—Ver. 586. “For I am the only one in my house who is friendly to myself.” He means that he is the only person in his house who is on his side, since his wife, because of her wealth, has total control over the staff, who he cannot trust at all.
65. Good terms with him)—Ver. 635. Meaning, “Is he in his senses or not?”
65. Good terms with him)—Ver. 635. Meaning, “Is he thinking straight or not?”
66. Amount of his life)—Ver. 660. “Quid si animam debet?” Erasmus tells us that this was a proverb among the Greeks applied to those who ran so deeply in debt, that their persons, and consequently, in one sense, their very existence, came into the power of their creditors.
66. Amount of his life)—Ver. 660. “What if he owes his soul?” Erasmus tells us that this was a proverb among the Greeks used for people who were so far in debt that their lives, in a sense, were completely under the control of their creditors.
67. Six hundred actions)—Ver. 667. “Sescentos;” literally, “six hundred.” The Romans used this term as we do the words “ten thousand,” to signify a large, but indefinite number.
67. Six hundred actions)—Ver. 667. “Sescentos;” literally, “six hundred.” The Romans used this term just like we use “ten thousand” to represent a large, though vague, number.
68. A strange black dog)—Ver. 705. This omen, Plautus calls, in the Casina, l. 937, “canina scæva.”
68. A strange black dog)—Ver. 705. This sign, Plautus refers to in the Casina, l. 937, as “canina scæva.”
69. Through the sky-light)—Ver. 706. So in the Amphitryon of Plautus, l. 1108, two great snakes come down through the “impluvium,” or “sky-light.” On the subject of the “impluvium,” see the Notes to the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 159.
69. Through the skylight)—Ver. 706. In Plautus's Amphitryon, l. 1108, two giant snakes descend through the “impluvium,” or “skylight.” For more on the “impluvium,” refer to the Notes in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, l. 159.
70. A hen crowed)—Ver. 707. Donatus tells us that it was a saying, that in the house where a hen crowed, the wife had the upper hand.
70. A hen crowed)—Ver. 707. Donatus tells us that it was a saying that in the house where a hen crowed, the wife had the upper hand.
71. The soothsayer—the diviner)—Ver. 708. According to some accounts there was this difference between the “hariolus” and the “aruspex,” that the former foretold human events, the latter those relating to the Deities. Donatus has remarked on these passages, that Terence seems to sneer at the superstitions referred to.
71. The soothsayer—the diviner)—Ver. 708. According to some accounts, there was a distinction between the “hariolus” and the “aruspex”; the former predicted human events, while the latter dealt with those concerning the Deities. Donatus noted in these passages that Terence appears to mock the superstitions mentioned.
72. Can find them now)—Ver. 726. His Lemnian wife and daughter. Colman remarks: “This is intended as a transition to the next Scene; but I think it would have been better if it had followed without this kind of introduction. The Scene itself is admirable, and is, in many places, both affecting and comic, and the discovery of the real character of Phanium is made at a very proper time.”
72. Can find them now)—Ver. 726. His Lemnian wife and daughter. Colman notes: “This is meant as a bridge to the next Scene; however, I believe it would have been more effective if it had flowed straight into it without this kind of setup. The Scene itself is impressive and, in many parts, both touching and humorous, and the revelation of Phanium's true character happens at just the right moment.”
73. My daughter’s nurse)—Ver. 735. Among the ancients, it was the custom for nurses who had brought up children to remain with them in after-life.
73. My daughter’s nurse)—Ver. 735. In ancient times, it was common for nurses who raised children to stay with them throughout their lives.
74. Where are the ladies?)—Ver. 748. “Ubi illæ?” literally, “Where are these women?”
74. Where are the ladies?)—Ver. 748. “Ubi illæ?” literally, “Where are these women?”
75. Run beyond the house)—Ver. 767. “Fugias ne præter casam.” This passage has given much trouble to the Commentators; but it is pretty clear that the explanation of Donatus is the correct one: “Don’t abandon your own home,” that being the safest place. Stallbaum agrees with Gronovius in thinking that it was first applied as a piece of advice to runaway slaves, as being likely to become worse off by the change; probably much in the same spirit as we say, “Out of the frying-pan into the fire.”
75. Run beyond the house)—Ver. 767. “Don’t run past the house.” This passage has caused a lot of confusion for commentators; however, it's pretty clear that Donatus's interpretation is the right one: “Don’t leave your own home,” since that is the safest place. Stallbaum agrees with Gronovius, believing it was originally advice given to runaway slaves, since they were likely to end up in a worse situation by making the change; probably in the same way we say, “Out of the frying pan into the fire.”
76. Paying by borrowing)—Ver. 779. “Versura solvere,” was “to pay a debt by borrowing money,” and consequently to be no better off than before. Geta having, by the money he has procured, freed Phædria from all danger of losing his mistress, but at the same time having brought Antipho into still greater danger of losing his wife.
76. Paying by borrowing)—Ver. 779. “Versura solvere” meant “to pay off a debt by borrowing money,” and therefore to end up no better off than before. Geta, with the money he obtained, saved Phædria from the risk of losing his girlfriend, but at the same time put Antipho in even more danger of losing his wife.
77. Or his talking)—Ver. 782. “Ejus” here alludes, not to Nausistrata but to Phormio. Madame Dacier suggests that it should be “hujus.”
77. Or his talking)—Ver. 782. “Ejus” here refers, not to Nausistrata but to Phormio. Madame Dacier suggests it should be “hujus.”
78. With your money)—Ver. 785. Colman observes: “Alluding to the money borrowed of her to pay Phormio; and as Donatus observes in another place, it is admirably contrived, in order to bring about a humorous catastrophe that Chremes should make use of his wife’s money on this occasion.”
78. With your money)—Ver. 785. Colman notes: “Referring to the money borrowed from her to pay Phormio; and as Donatus points out elsewhere, it is cleverly designed to create a humorous ending that Chremes should use his wife's money in this situation.”
79. Our friend’s)—Ver. 811. Chremes himself is so called, to deceive Nausistrata.
79. Our friend’s)—Ver. 811. Chremes himself is referred to this way to trick Nausistrata.
80. O good luck)—Ver. 840. “Fors fortuna,” “good fortune;” while “fortuna” merely means “chance.”
80. Oh good luck)—Ver. 840. “Fors fortuna,” “good fortune;” while “fortuna” just means “chance.”
81. Throwing my cloak)—Ver. 843. When expedition was required, it was usual to throw the ends of the “pallium,” or “cloak,” over the shoulders.
81. Throwing my cloak)—Ver. 843. When speed was necessary, it was common to throw the ends of the “pallium,” or “cloak,” over the shoulders.
82. Carry me off)—Ver. 881. Madame Dacier says that Antipho is so rejoiced here at Geta’s news, that he jumps upon his shoulders, and is carried off in triumph, which was a sort of stage-trick, and was very diverting to the Audience. On this, Colman observes: “I believe Madame Dacier has not the least foundation for this extraordinary piece of information; and I must confess, that I have too high an opinion, both of the Roman audience and actors, to believe it to be true.”
82. Carry me off)—Ver. 881. Madame Dacier says that Antipho is so excited by Geta’s news that he jumps on his shoulders and is carried off in triumph, which was a kind of stage trick and very entertaining for the audience. In response, Colman notes: “I think Madame Dacier has no basis for this unusual claim; and I must admit, I have too much respect for both the Roman audience and actors to think it's true.”
83. That as to what)—Ver. 898. Lemaire suggests that he is about to say: “that as to what was agreed upon between us, I may take home this young woman, and make her my wife.”
83. That as to what)—Ver. 898. Lemaire suggests that he is about to say: “as for what we agreed upon, I can take this young woman home and make her my wife.”
84. Is she not genteel-looking)—Ver. 904. Patrick has the following note here: “One can not conceive any thing more happy or just than these words of Chremes. Demipho’s thoughts are wholly taken up how to recover the money, and Phormio is equally solicitous to retain it; but Chremes, who had just left his daughter, is regardless of their discourse, and fresh from the impressions which she had made on him, longs to know if his brother’s sentiments of her were equally favorable, and naturally puts this paternal question to him.”
84. Doesn’t she look elegant?)—Ver. 904. Patrick has the following note here: “It’s hard to imagine anything more fitting or true than these words of Chremes. Demipho is completely focused on how to get back the money, and Phormio is just as eager to keep it; but Chremes, who has just left his daughter, is not paying attention to their conversation. Fresh from the feelings she left him with, he wants to know if his brother feels the same way about her and naturally asks him this fatherly question.”
85. Transferred to my account)—Ver. 921. “Rescribere argentum,” or “nummos,” meant “to transfer,” or “set down money to the account of another person in one’s banker’s books.” A passage in the Asinaria of Plautus, l. 445, seems to have the same meaning.
85. Transferred to my account)—Ver. 921. “Rescribere argentum,” or “nummos,” meant “to transfer,” or “credit money to someone else's account in one’s banker’s records.” A passage in the Asinaria of Plautus, l. 445, seems to have the same meaning.
86. For the well portioned)—Ver. 939. Though Colman thinks otherwise, it is pretty clear that he alludes to Nausistrata in these words.
86. For the well proportioned)—Ver. 939. Even though Colman has a different view, it's pretty clear that he's referring to Nausistrata with these words.
87. To be carrying off)—Ver. 954. Patrick has the following note here: “The different characters of the two brothers are admirably preserved throughout this Scene. Chremes stands greatly in awe of his wife, and will submit to any thing rather than the story should come to her ears; but Demipho can not brook the thoughts of losing so much money, and encourages his brother to behave with spirit and resolution, promising to make up matters between him and his wife.”
87. To be carrying off)—Ver. 954. Patrick has the following note here: “The distinct personalities of the two brothers are wonderfully maintained throughout this scene. Chremes is deeply afraid of his wife and will do anything to prevent her from finding out, while Demipho can't stand the thought of losing such a large amount of money and urges his brother to act decisively, promising to help resolve things between him and his wife.”
88. Dead and gone)—Ver. 965. “E medio excedere,” was an Euphemism signifying “to die,” which it was deemed of ill omen to mention.
88. Dead and gone)—Ver. 965. “E medio excedere” was a euphemism meaning “to die,” which was considered bad luck to say.
89. Those who have)—Ver. 1025. He here uses the terms which it was customary to employ in the celebration of a public funeral. See also the form of proclaiming an auction, at the end of the Menæchmi of Plautus.
89. Those who have)—Ver. 1025. He uses the language that was commonly used during a public funeral. Also, refer to the announcement of an auction at the end of the Menæchmi by Plautus.
90. Have him victimised)—Ver. 1027. “Mactatus” was the term applied to the pouring of wine and frankincense on the victim about to be sacrificed, on which it was said to be “magis auctus,” “increased,” or “amplified;” which, in time, became corrupted into the word “mactatus,” or “mactus.”
90. Have him victimized)—Ver. 1027. “Mactatus” was the term used for pouring wine and frankincense on the animal being sacrificed, which was said to be “magis auctus,” “increased,” or “amplified;” this eventually turned into the word “mactatus,” or “mactus.”
91. Grant us your applause)—Ver. 1054. Thus concludes the last, and certainly not the least meritorious of the Plays of our Author; indeed, for genuine comic spirit, it may challenge comparison with the Eunuch, which is in general considered to be the best.
91. Grant us your applause)—Ver. 1054. This wraps up the final play, which is definitely one of the strongest works by our Author; in fact, for true comedic flair, it can stand up to the Eunuch, which is usually regarded as the best.
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