Chremes. Enough already, Simo, and enough
I’ve shown my friendship for you; hazarded
Enough of peril: urge me then no more!
Wishing to please you, I had near destroy’d
My daughter’s peace and happiness forever.
Simo. Ah, Chremes, I must now entreat the more,
More urge you to confirm the promis’d boon.
Chremes. Mark, how unjust you are through willfulness!
So you obtain what you demand, you set
No bounds to my compliance, nor consider
What you request; for if you did consider,
You’d cease to load me with these injuries.
Simo. What injuries?
Chremes. Is that a question now?
Have you not driven me to plight my child
To one possess’d with other love, averse
To marriage; to expose her to divorce,
And crazy nuptials; by her woe and bane
To work a cure for your distemper’d son?
You had prevail’d: I travel’d in the match,
While circumstances would admit; but now
The case is chang’d, content you:— It is said
That she’s a citizen; a child is born:
Prithee excuse us!
Simo. Now, for Heav’n’s sake.
Believe not them, whose interest it is
To make him vile and abject as themselves.
These stories are all feign’d, concerted all,
To break the match: when the occasion’s past
That urges them to this, they will desist.
Chremes. Oh, you mistake: e’en now I saw the maid
Wrangling with Davus.
Simo. Artifice! mere trick.
Chremes. Aye, but in earnest; and when neither knew
That I was there.
Simo. It may be so: and Davus
Told me beforehand they’d attempt all this;
Though I, I know not how, forgot to tell you.
Enter Davus from Glycerium’s.
Davus (to himself). He may be easy now, I warrant him —
Chremes. See yonder’s Davus.
Simo. Ha! whence comes the rogue?
Davus. By my assistance, and this stranger’s safe. (To himself.)
Simo. What mischief’s this? (Listening.)
Davus. A more commodious man,
Arriving just in season, at a time
So critical, I never knew. (To himself.)
Simo. A knave!
Who’s that he praises? (Listening.)
Davus. All is now secure. (To himself.)
Simo. Why don’t I speak to him?
Davus. My master here! (Turning about.)
What shall I do? (To himself.)
Simo. Good Sir, your humble Servant! (Sneering.)
Davus. Oh, Simo! and our Chremes! — All is now
Simo. You’ve taken special care. (Ironically.)
Davus. E’en call them when you please.
Simo. Oh, mighty fine!
That to be sure is all that’s wanting now.
— But tell me, Sir! what business had you there? (Pointing to Glycerium’s.)
Davus. I? (Confused.)
Davus. I—? (Stammering.)
Simo. You, Sir.
Davus. I went in but now. (Disordered.)
Simo. As if I ask’d, how long it was ago.
Davus. With Pamphilus.
Simo. Is Pamphilus within?
— Oh torture. — Did not you assure me, Sirrah,
They were at variance?
Davus. So they are.
Simo. Why then
Is Pamphilus within?
Chremes. Oh, why d’ye think?
He’s gone to quarrel with her. (Sneering.)
Davus. Nay, but Chremes,
There’s more in this, and you shall hear strange news.
There’s an old countryman, I know not who,
Is just arriv’d here; confident and shrewd;
His look bespeaks him of some consequence.
A grave severity is in his face,
And credit in his words.
Simo. What story now?
Davus. Nay, nothing, Sir, but what I heard him say.
Simo. And what says he, then?
Davus. That he’s well assur’d
Glycerium’s an Athenian citizen.
Simo. Ho, Dromo! Dromo!
Davus. What now?
Davus. Hear me.
Simo. Speak but a word more — Dromo!
Davus. Pray, Sir, hear!
Dromo. Your pleasure, Sir?
Simo. Here, drag him headlong in,
And truss the rascal up immediately.
Simo. Because I’ll have it so.
Take him, I say.
Davus. For what offense?
Simo. Off with him!
Davus. If it appear that I’ve said aught but truth,
Put me to death.
Simo. I will not hear. I’ll trounce you.
Davus. But though it should prove true, Sir!
Simo. True or false.
See that you keep him bound: and do you hear?
Bind the slave hand and foot. Away!
Exeunt Dromo and Davus.
Manent Simo, Chremes.
— By Heav’n,
As I do live, I’ll make you know this day
What peril lies in trifling with a master,
And make him know what ’tis to plague a father.
Chremes. Ah, be not in such rage.
Simo. Oh Chremes, Chremes,
Filial unkindness! — Don’t you pity me!
To feel all this for such a thankless son! —
Here, Pamphilus, come forth! ho, Pamphilus!
Have you no shame? (Calling at Glycerium’s door.)
Pam. Who calls? — Undone! my father!
Simo. What say you? Most —
Chremes. Ah, rather speak at once
Your purpose, Simo, and forbear reproach.
Simo. As if ’twere possible to utter aught
Severer than he merits! — Tell me then; (To Pam.)
Glycerium is a citizen?
Pam. They say so.
Simo. They say so! — Oh amazing impudence! —
Does he consider what he says? does he
Repent the deed? or does his color take
The hue of shame? — To be so weak of soul,
Against the custom of our citizens,
Against the law, against his father’s will,
To wed himself to shame and this vile woman.
Pam. Wretch that I am!
Simo. Ah, Pamphilus! d’ye feel
Your wretchedness at last? Then, then, when first
You wrought upon your mind at any rate
To gratify your passion: from that hour
Well might you feel your state of wretchedness.
— But why give in to this? Why torture thus,
Why vex my spirit? Why afflict my age
For his distemp’rature? Why rue his sins?
— No; let him have her, joy in her, live with her.
Pam. My father! —
Simo. How, my father! — can I think
You want this father? You that for yourself
A home, a wife, and children have acquir’d
Against your father’s will? And witnesses
Suborn’d, to prove that she’s a citizen?
— You’ve gain’d your point.
Pam. My father, but one word!
Simo. What would you say?
Chremes. Nay, hear him, Simo.
Simo. Hear him?
What must I hear then, Chremes!
Chremes. Let him speak.
Simo. Well, let him speak: I hear him.
Pam. I confess,
I love Glycerium: if it be a fault,
That too I do confess. To you, my father,
I yield myself: dispose me as you please!
Command me! Say that I shall take a wife;
Leave her; I will endure it, as I may —
This only I beseech you, think not I
Suborn’d this old man hither. — Suffer me
To clear myself, and bring him here before you.
Simo. Bring him here!
Pam. Let me, father!
Chremes. ’Tis but just:
Pam. Grant me this!
Simo. Well, be it so.
I could bear all this bravely, Chremes; more,
Much more, to know that he deceiv’d me not.
Chremes. For a great fault a little punishment
Suffices to a father.
Re-enter Pamphilus with Crito.
Crito. Say no more!
Any of these inducements would prevail:
Or your entreaty, or that it is truth,
Or that I wish it for Glycerium’s sake.
Chremes. Whom do I see? Crito, the Andrian?
Nay certainly ’tis Crito.
Crito. Save you, Chremes!
Chremes. What has brought you to Athens?
But is this Simo?
Simo. Asks he for me?
So, Sir, you say that this Glycerium
Is an Athenian citizen?
Crito. Do you
Simo. What then are you come prepar’d?
Crito. Prepar’d! for what?
Simo. And dare you ask for what?
Shall you go on thus with impunity?
Lay snares for inexperienc’d, lib’ral youth,
With fraud, temptation, and fair promises
Soothing their minds? —
Crito. Have you your wits?
Simo. — And then
With marriage solder up their harlot loves?
Pam. Alas, I fear the stranger will not bear this. (Aside.)
Chremes. Knew you this person, Simo, you’d not think thus:
He’s a good man.
Simo. A good man he? — To come,
Although at Athens never seen till now,
So opportunely on the wedding-day! —
Is such a fellow to be trusted, Chremes?
Pam. But that I fear my father, I could make
That matter clear to him. (Aside.)
Simo. A Sharper!
Chremes. It is his humor, Crito: do not heed him.
Crito. Let him look to ’t. If he persists in saying
Whate’er he pleases, I shall make him hear
Something that may displease him. — Do I stir
In these affairs, or make them my concern?
Bear your misfortunes patiently! For me,
If I speak true or false, shall now be known.
— “A man of Athens once upon a time
Was shipwreck’d on the coast of Andros: with him
This very woman, then an infant. He
In this distress applied, it so fell out,
For help to Chrysis’ father — ”
Simo. All romance.
Chremes. Let him alone.
Crito. And will he interrupt me?
Chremes. Go on.
Crito. “Now Chrysis’ father, who receiv’d him,
Was my relation. There I’ve often heard
The man himself declare, he was of Athens.
There too he died.”
Chremes. His name?
Crito. His name so quickly! —
Crito. Troth, I think ’twas Phania;
But this I’m sure, he said he was of Rhamnus.
Chremes. Oh Jupiter!
Crito. These circumstances, Chremes,
Were known to many others, then in Andros.
Chremes. Heav’n grant it may be as I wish! — Inform me,
Whose daughter, said he, was the child? his own?
Crito. No, not his own.
Chremes. Whose then?
Crito. His brother’s daughter.
Chremes. Mine, mine undoubtedly!
Crito. What say you?
Pam. Hark, Pamphilus!
Simo. But why believe you this?
Chremes. That Phania was my brother.
Simo. True. I knew him.
Chremes. He, to avoid the war, departed hence:
And fearing ’twere unsafe to leave the child,
Embark’d with her in quest of me for Asia:
Since when I’ve heard no news of him till now.
Pam. I’m scarce myself, my mind is so enrapt
With fear, hope, joy, and wonder of so great,
So sudden happiness.
Simo. Indeed, my Chremes,
I heartily rejoice she’s found your daughter.
Pam. I do believe you, father.
Chremes. But one doubt
There still remains, which gives me pain.
With all your doubts! you puzzle a plain cause. (Aside.)
Crito. What is that doubt?
Chremes. The name does not agree.
Crito. She had another, when a child.
Chremes. What, Crito?
Can you remember?
Crito. I am hunting for it.
Pam. Shall then his memory oppose my bliss,
When I can minister the cure myself?
No, I will not permit it — Hark you, Chremes,
The name is Pasibula.
Chremes. The same.
Pam. I’ve heard it from herself a thousand times.
Simo. Chremes, I trust you will believe, we all
Rejoice at this.
Chremes. ’Fore Heaven I believe so.
Pam. And now, my father —
Simo. Peace, son! the event
Has reconcil’d me.
Pam. O thou best of fathers!
Does Chremes too confirm Glycerium mine?
Chremes. And with good cause if Simo hinder not.
Pam. Sir! (To Simo.)
Simo. Be it so.
Chremes. My daughter’s portion is
Ten talents, Pamphilus.
Pam. I am content.
Chremes. I’ll to her instantly: and prithee, Crito,
Along with me! for sure she knows me not.
Exeunt Chremes and Crito.
Simo. Why do you not give orders instantly
To bring her to our house?
Pam. Th’ advice is good.
I’ll give that charge to Davus.
Simo. It can’t be.
Simo. He has other business of his own,
Of nearer import to himself.
Pam. What business?
Simo. He’s bound.
Pam. Bound! how, Sir!
Simo. How, Sir? — neck and heels.
Pam. Ah, let him be enlarg’d.
Simo. It shall be done.
Pam. But instantly.
Simo. I’ll in, and order it.
Pam. Oh what a happy, happy day is this!
Enter Charinus behind.
Char. I come to see what Pamphilus is doing:
And there he is!
Pam. And is this true? — yes, yes,
I know ’tis true, because I wish it so.
Therefore I think the life of Gods eternal,
For that their joys are permanent: and now,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That I too am immortal, if no ill
Step in betwixt me and this happiness.
Oh, for a bosom-friend now to pour out
My ecstasies before him!
Char. What’s this rapture? (Listening.)
Pam. Oh, yonder’s Davus: nobody more welcome:
For he, I know, will join in transport with me.
Davus (entering). Where’s Pamphilus?
Pam. Oh Davus!
Davus. Who’s there?
Davus. Oh Pamphilus!
Pam. You know not my good fortune.
Davus. Do you know my ill fortune?
Pam. To a tittle.
Davus. ’Tis after the old fashion, that my ills
Should reach your ears, before your joys reach mine.
Pam. Glycerium has discover’d her relations.
Davus. O excellent!
Char. How’s that? (Listening.)
Pam. Her father is
Our most near friend.
Davus. Charming news!
Pam. And I’m to marry her immediately.
Char. Is this man talking in his sleep, and dreams
On what he wishes waking? (Listening.)
Pam. And moreover,
For the child, Davus —
Davus. Ah, Sir, say no more.
You’re th’ only favorite of the Gods.
Char. I’m made,
If this be true. I’ll speak to them. (Comes forward.)
Pam. Who’s there?
Charinus! oh, well met.
Char. I give you joy.
Pam. You’ve heard then —
Char. Ev’ry word: and prithee now,
In your good fortune, think upon your friend.
Chremes is now your own; and will perform
Whatever you shall ask.
Pam. I shall remember.
’Twere tedious to expect his coming forth:
Along with me then to Glycerium!
Davus, do you go home, and hasten them
To fetch her hence. Away, away!
Davus. I go.
Exeunt Pamphilus and Charinus.
Davus. (addressing the audience.)
Wait not till they come forth: within
She’ll be betroth’d; within, if aught remains
Undone, ’twill be concluded — Clap your hands!
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Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 12:01