ANDRIA The first Comedy of Terence, in English.  
A furtherance for the attainment unto the right knowledge, & true propriety, of the Latin tongue. And also a commodious mean of help, to such as have forgotten Latin, for their speedy recovering of ability, to understand, write, and speak the same.  
Carefully translated out of Latin, by Maurice Kyffin.  Haud frustrà Spero. 
Comoedia, Imitatio Vitae: Speculum Consuetudinis: Imago Veritatis.  Cic. 
Printed at London by T.E. for Thomas Woodcock, at the Sign of the black Bear in Paul's Churchyard. 1588.  Plura Posthac. 
 author's device HAUD FRUSTRA SPERO. 
M Kyffin  INVITA INVIDIA   


In M. Kyffini Andriam.  
CAutè sectatus quondam, sapiensque Menandrum,  
Aeternum nomen Publius est meritus.  
Consimiles laudes puto te Kyffine mereri,  
Afri quod Vatis strictè imitere pedem.  
Namque aliena sequi, quam sit vestigia magnum  
Novi. Qui nescit, carpere solus avet.  
Andria multarum fuit illi prima sororum:  
Andria sit caveas vltima scena tibi.  
W. Morgan.   

In Andriam a M. Kyffino Angl. donatam.  
ARte laborata prodit vetus Andria, vest  
Cultior: & nostris nunc magis apta scholis.  
Restat, vt Eunuchum, reliquosque annectere libros  
Pergas: nam facilis iam labor omnis erit.  
Th. Lloid.   

Eiusdem in Zoylum.  
invide quid turges? quid non laudabile cernis?  
Dic, si displiceat, quis meliora dedit?   

In Andriam Anglicè a M. Kyffino conversam. G. Camdeni Tetrastichon.  
dum laudes cumulare tuas Kyffine parabam,  
Andria quòd studiis facta sit Angla tuis:  
Adstitit en statim, ridensque Terentius inquit,  
Quid vis? quid laudas? carpere nemo potest.   

In amicis, sui, M. Kyffini Andriam, Petri Bizari Carmen.  

VT nemo ex Comicis, Latina lingua  
Quos effert, potuit Terentianum  
Stylum vincere, candidum, & nitentem,  
Purumque, ac sine fuco, & arte mira  
Constructum, ac salibus facetijsque  
Conditum undique, et omnibus placentem:   

Sic nemo tua scripta, quae Terentii  
Sensus, verbáque in Anglicum relata  
Sermonem, enucleant, venusta & apta,  
Verborum serie, optimîsque verbis  
Vincet. Perge itaque, vt facis, iuvare  
Et dulcem patriam, & simul perennem  
Aeternamque tibi parare laudem.   
Petrus Bizarus.   

R. Cook to the Readers of Mr. kyffin's Translation.  
THE perfect pattern of pure Latin speech,  
In English phrase most fitly here expressed,  
Yields Pleasure, Profit, Ease, and Aid, to each,  
That would of Latin language be possessed.  
Thank Kyffin then, whose pen hath purchased praise:  
His pain (your gain) deserves the same always.    

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, AND worthy gentleman, Master William Sackeville, son to the Right honourable (my very good L. and Master) The Lord Buckhurst, one of her majesties most honourable privy Council.  
SIR, by intermission of your noble exercises in feats of Arms, and your studious endeavour employed in foreign tongues: I must needs crave at your hands, to vouchsafe some spare time (for your recreation) in the entertainment of your old acquaintance Pub. Terentius: whom I here present unto you, in such and so much, English attire, as my poor judgement found fittest for him to be clad withal.  
While he lived at Rome, his most company, and conversation, was among the Nobility, and most of all other, with those two noble and learned gentlemen, Laelius, and Scipio African: In like sort, after his death, his works were right currently accounted of, and highly commended, by the two Princes of eloquence, even Caesar, and Cicero: as their own writings do witness the same unto us. Therefore, sith Terence, neither alive, nor dead, did ever want a noble Maecenas to protect him: I hope that now, being partly put into english, & having chiefly chosen you for his Patron in England: you likewise, in regard of your noble birth, & virtues, will grant him like courteous & friendly favour, as by these noble men in Rome, was heretofore afforded unto him. I trust also he shall be never the worse welcome unto you, in that he is diligently attended on, with my poor name: & like as my first attempt to translate him, proceeded chiefly from you, so look I that my labour spent on him, shall be favourably protected by your which to me will be a thing much comfortable, & to you nothing cumbersome. And so, fully resting, & relying myself on your wonted courtesies, I here make an end: & beseech the almighty, still to increase & accomplish, those his good gifts & graces, which he hath placed in you most shining & apparent.  
At London. Decemb. 3. 1587. By your wor, always to be commanded Maurice Kyffin.   

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL GENTLEmen, master Henry, and master Thomas Sackeville, sons to the Right Honourable the Lord Buckhurst (one of her majesties most honourable Privy Council,) Maurice Kyffin wisheth all health, and happiness.  
IT is now full. 7. years (as you can well remember) since I first attempted the translation of Andria into English verse, being thereto partly incited by your means: But afterward perceiving what difficulty it was, to enforce the pithy and proverbial sayings of Terence into Rhyme, and withal what inconvenience grew, by reason of divers several Speakers, sometime severally happening, within the length of one line or less: I plainly saw, that such manner of forced translation, must needs be both harsh and unpleasant to the Reader, and also not half seemly befitting the sweet style and eloquence of the Author. So as having thus translated the whole Comedy in verse (saving the two last leaves) my pains bestowed therein did somuch mislike me, as that ever sithence it lay by me, utterly neglected, and never fully finished: Till that now of late, being by some, much requested to make common the same, for the benefit of such as study the latin: I have thereupon somewhat altered my course, and endeavoured to turn it into prose, as a thing of less labour in show, and more liberty in substance, seeming withal, most accordant, with this Comical kind of writing. And because I am not ignorant, with what ardent love, and liking, you have always, most studiously embraced all good Authors: (being of yourselves, even naturally inclined, to all learning and knowledge:) I cannot therefore, but recommend to your favour, this piece of Terence, bearing the frame of my poor workmanship: which I desire you, at idle, and vacant times, to vouchsafe to peruse, both for Terence sake, whom I am sure you love: And also at my request, whom I know you do not hate. And so I commit you to the most gracious Protection of the Highest.   

A Preface to the courteous Reader.  
AMONG all the Roman writers, there is none (by the judgement of the learned) so much available to be read and studied, for the true knowledge and purity of the Latin tongue, as Pub. Terentius: for, sith the chiefest matter in speech, is to speak properly and aptly, and that we have not a more cunning Craftsmaster of apt and proper speech than Terence, well worthy is he then, even with all care and diligence, to be both taught and learned before any other. And surely, great is the pity, that Terence were not more used of masters in teaching, and made more familiar to scholars in learning, than commonly it is: being (as I have known myself) by divers men, in divers sentences, diversly misunderstood: for, the Author in many places, using abbreviations, and figurative speeches, as well in regard of his verse, as also that such manner of writing, was very eloquent and familiar in his time: doth thereby cause the sense seem very doubtful, to such Readers as are not fully acquainted with him: which comes to pass, by means that this book, is not so frequented in schools, nor laboured in study, according to the worthiness of it: but other base and inferior books, commonly preferred before it, to the utter marring, and maiming of Scholars both in style and judgement.  
Though this Comedy, now englished, perhaps seem not altogether so pleasant, as could be wished, neither in matter, nor manner of handling: Yet is it to be considered (besides that it loseth his natural grace, being turned into another language) that the time when, and the place where, it was first published in Latin, afforded no other sort of Comedies than this is. And therefore, it was no part of my meaning, to translate the same, as a thing either pleasant to be played, or very delightful to be read: (Notwithstanding that this Author was most excellent, and most learned, of any that wrote in this kind:) but especially, for that the Latin is pure & eloquent, much commended by tully himself, & right requisite to be studied, & understood of all such, as would attain to the knowledge of right speaking, and readiness of well writing, in the Latin tongue: for whose only sakes (and also at the earnest request of some, whom I was desirous to satisfy) I have adventured the englishing hereof: wishing, that as I have thus boldly begun with the first, so some other having more leisure, and learning, would go through with the rest of the Comedies. I have used (as near as I could) the most known, usual, and familiar phrases in common speech, to express the author's meaning, as (to my thinking) best agreeing therewithal. Nevertheless, I make account my doing herein, shall be carped and caviled at by some, from whose malicious censure, even the best writers can not scape untouched, and therefore no marvel if they spurn at me. Of which kind of men, I have known by experience, & noted for memory, two sorts: One sort pretending a show of learning, & being indeed but very dunces, love to be speaking they wot not what, to disgrace they care not whom, and yet not rendering any reason why, but only to feed their own bad humours: In whom, true judgement, being altogether suppressed, what with affection, or ignorance, or both: as either moved by fond liking, to commend that is bad: or stirred with foul hatred to dispraise that is good: are thus commonly carried along, with the vain tide and wind of their wills, without any regard of right, or due respect of wrong. another sort (whereof I knew some good scholars, the more the pity) blinded with overweening of themselves, and misliking all other men's doings (how well soever they deserve:) like only of their own, be they never so mean: never giving any man his due, fearing, by like, whatsoever commendation is attributed to others, that the same must needs be a derogation from themselves: wherein they are far unlike tully, the wellspring of wit and learning: who always praised, all men of desert, even in those things, wherein he both desired, and deserved, most praise himself: This is read of tully, to his great praise, and remembered of others to their just reproach. And here, lest perchance I be mistaken more than I would, & misconstrued otherwise than I mean, though my words before do sufficiently declare my meaning: yet (to avoid all doubt) it shall not be amiss, if I add a few more in this place. To disallow the judgement of such, as by learning can, and by reason know, where, when, and how, to find fault, as just cause and matter shall lead them: were to be wilfully blind, and obstinately foolish: God forbid I should be so unreasonable, or that men should judge of me so unrightly.  
Of the curious Carper I look not to be favoured, and yet if my labour may be equally compared with my author's words and meaning, I doubt not but it will appear unto him, an easier matter to find fault with part, than to amend the whole.  
Only, I submit this poor translation unto the view & judgement of the learned: who liking the Truth, and loving to speak Truth, will both allow what is well done, and amend that is amiss: As for others, I see not but that they ought first to learn, before they take upon them to Control:  
Farewell.   

To all young Students OF THE LATIN tongue (for whose only help and benefit this Comedy is published) Maurice Kyffin, wisheth increase of knowledge, & final perfection.  
HOw necessary, the use and familiarity of Terence, is for all such, as would attain, unto ripeness in understanding, readiness in speaking, and right judgement in writing Latin: is a thing, so commonly known and confessed of all men, as I shall not need any reasons to prove the same. Therefore, for the better furthering of those, that as yet are unacquainted with him, I was the rather persuaded, to publish this my Translation of Andria: wherein, whither my labour meriteth, aught, or nought, Aliorum sit judicium.  
My chiefest care hath been, to lay open the meaning of the Author, especially, in all hard and difficult places of this Comedy, and to utter the same, in such apt, plain, and familiar words, as are most meet, for this low style and Argument: for, to handle a mean matter, with high and lofty phrase, were as great oversight, & lack of judgement as could be.  
Touching the interpretation of some places in Andria. I was forced to dissent, from some of no small Authority, and specially from one very learned man, who occasioned (in a work that he wrote) to english certain dispersed phrases of Terence, hath (without offence be it spoken) so englished some, and namely in Andria, as I am feign to forsake the same, and give other quite contrary english unto them.  
One of those places in Andria, hath these words: Aliquid monstri alunt. 
Act. 1. Scen. 5.  By him thus englished: They bring some monstrous creature: And by me in this sort: They cloak some secret fault in her: which may be seen, interpreted to that effect, by Eras. Roterod. handling that place in his Chiliads.  
another place, is this, (containing the answer of Pamphilus unto Carinus:) Neque pol consilij locum habeo, neque auxilij copiam: 
Act. 2. Scen. 1.  which he hath thus englished: I neither have place to take counsel, nor help of any man: and by me contrariwise, as thus: In good faith, I am neither a meet man to give counsel, nor yet have wherewith to help another. Now to prove that I have given it a right English: read that page in Terence, and you shall soon find, that of necessity the sense must so be meant and taken. Some other like places I could recite, but these shall suffice for a Say: whereof I thought good to advertise you, to th'end you may see, that my dissenting (in these points) from a man of so great learning and authority, hath not been without urgent occasion.  
One thing more I must note unto you, that commonly in all books of Terence, this place of Andria, [Num quod tuisperas propulsabo facile] 
Act. 2. Scene. 3.  is noted thus in the margin: Speras i. times: which, put the case, Speras were here so to be understood (as I see no reason why it should) yet nevertheless, the sense remains still very lame and unperfect: understand you therefore, that as Davus in that Scene, counseleth Pamphilus to make answer to his father that he will marry: so Pamphilus on the other side, (fearing that would be a mean to induce marriage betwixt him and Philumena) will not in a good while give consent thereunto: thinking (as it seems) that by not assenting to his father's will therein, he shall be quite freed from marrying either her, or any other: for he hoped that no man would give him his daughter in marriage, sith his state and condition was so to be rejected: wherefore Davus perceiving whereupon he most insisted: seeks to dissuade him from the same, and among other reasons useth this: 
Nam quod tu speras, propulsabo facile,  
uxorem his moribus  
Dabit nemo: Iweniet inopem potius quam te corrumpi sinat.  Which (for your better understanding) I have thus translated by way of Paraphrase:  
For as for that vain hope of yours (imagining thus with yourself, tush it is no danger for me to withstand my father: No man will marry his daughter unto a man of my manners) I shall easily put you out of that hope: he will find out a poor and mean marriage for you, rather than he will suffer you to be sp●t by Harlots. 
In the interpretation of this place. I have wholly relied upon the judgement of that learned man Muretus, who expoundeth the same to this effect . By this you may see, that it much better befits the word Speras, here in this place, to have his own natural signification of Hope, than that wrested signification of Fear. I know by experience, that some Schoolmasters are to seek in these matters themselves, and therefore no marvel though their Scholars be ignorant. And here I remember one Schoolmaster above the rest: who (notwithstanding he were master of Art,) was yet so blunt and unskilful in Terence, as (among other errors) he taught his Scholars to understand this place of Andria [Non tu ibi gnatum] in this sort. Non tu ibi gnatum supple Negasti: 
Act 1. Scen. 1.  whereas it manifestly appeareth by the next line following, that the word Obiurgasti is there to be understood, and not Negasti. Moreover, for that the not well understanding of the Argument of this comedy, hath in divers, bred errors and mistakings: I have therefore been careful herein to explain the Argument at large unto you: and withal, to set down each particular Argument before every Scene. Likewise, by my notes in the margin, you shall be instructed (as occasion is offered) touching any doubtful speeches of the speakers: as whether they speak unto him that spoke last before, or else to the audience, or to themselves.  
Thus, have I for your sakes, been careful to dissolve all doubts, and difficulties, in this part of Terence: which, if I may perceive, that you do as courteously accept from me, as it is friendly meant for you: I shall be more willing (if God spare me life and health) to pleasure you hereafter in a greater matter: In the mean time, I commit you to God, and myself into your good love and friendship.  
Your faithful well-willer M. K.   

The Argument of the comedy.  
CHremes & Phania (two brethren) were citizens of Athens: which Chremes, taking his journey into Asia, left Passibula (as then his only daughter) to the charge and safe keeping of his brother Phania: but not long after his departure, there ensued in Greece so great stir and tumult of war, as that Phania determining to follow his brother into Asia, did therefore embark himself (and his little Niece Passibula) for that voyage: But, a sore tempest arising, he sustained shipwreck in such sort, as both he and his forenamed Niece, were cast on shore at the isle of Andros, where he chanced into the house of a certain dweller in that country, by whom he was gently received and relieved, & in whose house shortly after he died. After whose death, the good man of the house changed the name of the young child, calling her by the name of Glycerie: and when he had by the space of certain years, brought her up with like care, and in like knowledge, as he did bring up his own daughter Chrysis, he likewise ended his life. Chrysis (perceiving herself bereft of Father and friends, & being also pinched with poverty) took Glycerie with her, and sailed to Athens. In which City, during a small season, she earned her living by Wool and making Cloth: but afterward, being haunted by certain youths, who fed her with gifts and fair promises, she (overcome by those men, and by these means) yielded the use of her body for gain. Among other younkers, Pamphilus the son of Simo, a well minded young man, did oftentimes resort to the house, not for her sake, but only for the great love and liking he bore unto Glycerie: by whom Glycerie, (within a while,) proving to be with child, he made faithful promise unto her, that he would make her his wife. By this time, Chremes (having long since returned home to Athens,) had another daughter become marriageable, named Philumena, whom he much desired to match in marriage with Pamphilus, in respect of the good report that generally went of him: Whereupon, by his own seeking unto Simo for the same, the match with consent of both parents, is made up, & utterly unawares unto Pamphilus, a day is appointed for the marriage.  
In the mean season Chrysis dieth, by which means Simo came first to knowledge that his son is in love. For at the burial of Chrysis, Glycerie for pure grief and sorrow being about to have thrown herself into the fire with the coars, was so speedily stayed, and so lovingly recomforted by Pamphilus, as thereby their wonted love and familiarity was manifestly bewrayed. Hereupon Chremes revoked his former offer, declaring how he had certain intelligence that Pamphilus used this strange minion for his wife: little thinking that she whom he termed by so vile a name, was his own daughter.  
Pamphilus (at length) perceiving that Chremes broke of the marriage, was very joyful: Simo on the other side was exceeding sorry. The day once appointed for the wedding, is come. Simo therefore of mere craft and policy (determining to feel the mind of his son Pamphilus) pretendeth notwithstanding all this, that the marriage shall be made out of hand: with intent that if his son should refuse to marry, that thereby he might have good occasion to reprehend him, which till then he could not well do. But contrariwise, if his son should consent to marry, than he hoped to obtain his desire at Chremes hands, and so to make up the marriage presently. Therefore meeting with his son, (who little minded any such matter) he spoke thus unto him: Pamphilus, go home and make thee ready, thou must be married today.  
Pamphilus suddenly amazed with these words, knew neither what to say, nor what to do: But Davus (a crafty knavish servant) smelling out the drift and devise of the old man, comes to Pamphilus and showeth by circumstance of time, place, and persons, the great unlikelihood of the marriage.  
In this very time Carinus (a young man of Athens) exceedingly enamoured on Philumena, and hearing she should be forthwith married unto Pamphilus, did therefore come to him and prayed him for God's sake, as he tendered his life, that either he would not marry her at all, or at least wise, that he would put of the marriage for a few days longer.  
Pamphilus on the other side being wonderfully in love with Glycerie, desires nothing more than that he might have quite and clean riddance of this same marriage pretended for him, and so made answer unto Carinus accordingly. To this end therefore, Davus adviseth Pamphilus to say unto his father, that he is willing to marry (though he meant nothing less) hoping thereby both to satisfy the mind of Simo, and withal to continue still love and familiarity with Glycerie, having no mistrust in the world that Chremes would ever be induced to match his daughter Philumena unto Pamphilus, whom he had once before rejected for his son in law. But Pamphilus following this devise of Davus, is notably overtaken, when and where he least thought of: for Simo so much prevailed with Chremes by earnest entreaty, as that contrary to all expectation, the marriage matter is brought to that pass, even to have been made out of hand: so as Davus, having no other mean to shift of this marriage, causeth the child, whereof Glycerie the same day was delivered, to be laid before Simoes' door: which, when Chremes saw, and understood to be the child of Pamphilus, he straight way falls of again from performance of the marriage. Hereupon ensueth great stir and hurleburly, till that by the coming of Crito from Andros to Athens, (by mere chance) even the whole difficulty of the Comedy is dissolved: for through him, Chremes comes to certain knowledge that Glycerie is his own daughter, sometime called by the name of Passibula: And so with great joy and contentation of all parts, he gives Glycerie in marriage unto Pamphilus, and Philumena to Carinus.  

* Some will have it consist of 4. & then the Prologue is the first . ¶ The Comedy consists of three parts: to wit: 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 Which in Latin are signified by these three words: Propositio, Intentio, conversio.  

〈◊〉. Propositio.  The first, is Proposition, containing the first Act and the beginning of variety of Speakers, some entering, some remaining on the Stage, and some departing away.  

〈◊〉. Intentio.  The second is Intention or Full Sway, containing the growing on & continuance of all the hot stir, trouble and difficult state of the Comedy.  

〈◊〉. conversio.  The third and last part, is Conversion, in the which all is turned to a joyful end, and the whole matter made known.  
By heedful reading, and diligent marking, the due Decorum observed by Terence in his Comedies, the scholar shall gather very much pleasure and profit, as for example, in this Comedy of Andria, he opposeth several speakers, of several natures, and contrary conditions, one to another: as, Simo being hot and testy, is opposed unto Chremes, a mild and moderate man. Pamphilus, a stayed and shamefast young man, is opposed unto Carinus, a harebrained fellow void of discretion. Davus, a sly and subtle servant, is opposed unto Byrria, a slothful and reckless fellow. Mysis, a sober maid, is opposed unto Lesbia, a drunken Gossip. Crito, honest and poor, is opposed unto Chrysis, dishonest and rich.  
These persons, are of set purpose thus placed by Terence, to the end that the undue demeanour in the one, may the sooner be seen by the contrary in the other.  
Very singular also is the eloquence of the Author, in setting down the moan and complaint of Pamphilus, The Narration, Consultation, and Reprehension of Simo: From which places, are to be learned choice words, apt figures, and right order of speaking Latin.   

¶ The speakers in this Comedy.  
Simo, 
the old man.  Sosia, 
the late Bondman.  Davus, 
the servant.  Mysis, 
the maid.  Pamphilus, 
a young man.  Byrria, 
the servant.  Lesbia, 
the Midwife.  Glycerie, 
Lover unto Pamphilus.  Chremes, 
the old man.  Crito, 
the stranger.  Dromo, 
the whipping beadle.    


¶ Act. 1. Scen. 1.  
The Argument.  
Simo discourseth unto his late Bondman, first of the honest life of his son: And afterward of his falling in love: lastly he discloseth for what cause he feigneth a marriage for him.  

Simo, the old man.  
Sosia, the servant.   
SIrs, have in these things: dispatch. Sosia stay thou here. I will speak a word or two with thee.  Sosia. 
I know your mind already, you would have these things well handled.  Simo. 
Nay, it is another manner of matter.  So. 
What is it sir? that my science can stand you in more stead than this comes to?  Si. 
There is no need of that science, for this matter which I am now about: But faithfulness and secrecy, which I always noted to be in thee, are the sciences I have need of now.  So. 
I long to know what is your will with me.  Si. 
Thou wotst how reasonable and easy a bondage thou hadst with me, ever since the time I bought thee of a little one: and by cause thou didst thy service honestly, and with good will, lo, of a Bondslave I made thee my free man, so as I rewarded thee with the very best thing I had.  So. 
I remember it well.  Si. 
I repent me not of that I did.  So. 
Master, I am glad if I have done, or do, any service that may please you, and I thank you with all my heart that you take it in good worth: But yet this speech of yours troubles me: for this manner of ripping up things past, is as it were an upbraiding to one unmindful of a good turn done him: but speak at a word what is your will with me.  Si. 
So will I do, only this I tell thee first and foremost: This marriage which thou weenest to be certain, is but a feigned marriage.  So. 
For what cause do you pretend it than?  Si. 
Thou shalt hear all the matter from the beginning, so shalt thou understand both my sons life, and my purpose, and also what I would have thee do in this behalf. When my son grew to man's estate, it lay in his power to live more at random, for till than, how could a man know his nature, or discern his disposition, while as tender years, fearfulness, and his Master, kept him under.  So. 
It is true Sir.  Si. 
That which all young men for the most parts do applying their minds to some kind of study or other, as either to horses, and horsemanship: or to keep hounds for hunting, or to study Philosophy: he gave himself specially, to none of these things more than other, and yet was reasonably well seen in them all: I was glad of it.  So. 
And good cause why, for I hold it a very commodious matter in a man's life, Not to go too far in any thing.  Si. 
In this sort was the manner of his life, even gently to bear, and take all in good worth, at all men's hands that he kept company with: betaking himself to do as they did, and to follow their studies and exercises: Not thwarting any man, nor at any time putting forth himself before his companions, so as a man might full easily purchase praise, and not be envied, and also furnish himself with friends.  So. 
He took him to a wise course of living, for nowadays, Flattery gains Friends, and Truth gets Foes.  Si. 
In the mean time, a certain woman of excellent beauty, and in the flower of age, came from Andros, (now three years since) to dwell here, in our neighbourhood, being thereto driven through very poverty, and the small reckoning that was made of her among her own kindred.  So. 
Alas I fear me, that this woman of Andros, might be cause of some evil.  Si. 
At the first, she lived chastely, sparingly, and hardly, earning her living by wool and web. But afterwards resorted, now one lover, and then another, promising reward unto her, and as all are naturally given full soon to leave of labour and follow lust, even so this woman accepted the offers, and then she began the gain.  
They which then loved her (as it fell out) carried my son thither, in company with them. I straight way imagined with myself: without doubt he is caught for a bird: he hath his errand: I watched their Pages betimes in the morning, as they were wont to come thence, or go thither: I oft-times asked, ho Sir boy, tell me if thou be a good fellow, who yesterday had his pleasure of Chrysis, (for so was the name of her of Andros.)  So. 
I perceive you.  Si. 
They would say, either Phedria, or Clinia, or Niceratus: for these three then loved her all at once. But what did Pamphilus, hah? (What, said they) Marry he supped and paid his share. I was well apaid of this. In like sort, I made inquiry at another time, and could not find, that Pamphilus was any way touched with dishonesty. Therefore I thought I had sufficient trial of him, and that he was a notable Pattern of Chastity: for he that hath to do with men of such conditions, and yet is not moved in mind that way, one would think he might full well have the rule and guiding of his own life. Now over and beside that this liked myself well, lo all other men also, even with one consent, gave all the commendations that might be, and praised my happy state, in that I 〈◊〉 a son, endued with so good wit and government. What need I make many words? Chremes stirred up by this good report, came of himself unto me, to the end to match his only daughter in marriage to my son, and that with a very large dowry: I was well pleased withal: promised him my son: and this very day was appointed for the marriage.  So. 
Why then what letteth, that it is not made accordingly?  Si. 
That shall thou hear: shortly after within few days that these things were a doing, this Chrysis our neighbour died.  So. 
O happy chance, you have now made me glad, for still I doubted the worst of that Chrysis.  Si. 
Than specially my son used thither, ever and anon in company with those which loved Chrysis: he was as busy as the best, in setting forth the burial: being all this while very sad: and now and than, would even shed tears with them for company: well, this also liked me well-enough: for thus thought I: he that upon small acquaintance and familiarity, takes this woman's death so grievously at the heart? what if he had loved her himself? or how would he take on for me his father? so as I took all this to have proceeded of a good nature, and gentle heart. To be brief, I myself likewise for his sake go forth to the burial, mistrusting no ill in the world.  So. 
O what followed?  Si. 
Thou shalt know by and by. The Coars is brought forth: we pass along with it: Anon I chance to cast mine eye (among the women there) upon an odd young damosel, of such favour.  So. 
What, so good?  Si. 
Yea Sosia, of such modest and sober countenance and so passing beautiful to look too, as there could not possibly be more in a woman: who than to my seeming, made greater sorrow than any of the rest: And for that she excelled all the other women, bearing a face worthy an honest woman and well borne, I get me to the waiting maids and ask what she might be: They tell me that she is sister unto Chrysesa That went by and by, to the very heart of me. Out alas, this is it I wist not of: hence grew those tears of his: here is she whom he pitied so.  So. 
O how greatly I fear whereto your tale tends.  Si. 
Well, on goeth the coars still: we follow after: we are come to the place of burial: it is put into the fire: They weep. In the mean space, this sister whom I told you of, rushed headlong to the flame with no small jeopardy: whereat my son Pamphilus being sore frighted, did then lo, bewray his love which he had cunningly cloaked and kept secret all this while: he runs unto her, and takes her about the middle: My sweet heart Glycerie (quoth he) what do you? why go you about to cast away yourself? with that, she cast herself weeping, and leaning upon him so familiarly, as a man might easily perceive their old accustomed love.  So. 
What, say you so?  Si. 
I return thence angry and disquieted in mind, & yet had I not cause sufficient to chide him: for he mought have said: father what have I done? What punishment have I deserved? or wherein have I offended? The maid which wilfully would have thrown herself into the fire, I stayed and saved her life: This were an honest excuse.  So. 
It is well considered of you: for if you would chide him which helped to save one's life, what would you do to him that wrought ones harm or mischief?  Si. 
The next day following, Chremes came to me exclaiming what a shameful Act it was, that Pamphilus (as he had found out for certainty) used this strange noughty pack even as his wife: I straight way denied that there was any such matter, he earnestly affirms that it was so: well, in the end I parted from him, as one then utterly refusing to match his Daughter to my son.  So. 
Did you not then rebuke your Son for it?  Si. 
No, nor this was not cause great enough to rebuke him.  So. 
How so I pray you?  Si. 
He inought have answered thus: Father you yourself have set a time when these things shall cease: iwis it is not long hence that I must live after another's pleasure: suffer me then, now in the meanwhile to live as I list myself.  So. 
What occasion then is left to rebuke him?  Si. 
marry, if for cause of this love he shall refuse to take a wife, Than lo, for that offence will I first correct him to begin with all. And now my endeavour is this, that by means of this feigned marriage, I may have unfeigned cause to rebuke him, if he do not agree to it: And with all that the naughty knave Davus, if he have any subtle device, may spend it now, while his craft can do no harm: whom I verily believe will labour with tooth and nail, to the uttermost that in him lieth, and so much the rather that he may work me a displeasure, than for any care he hath to follow my sons fancy.  So. 
Why so?  Si. 
Ask you why so? An ill mind, an ill meaning: whom if I shall perceive, But what need I use many words, and if so be it, all do fall out as I would, that there be no let or delay in my son Pamphilus: Than resteth that I entreat Chremes for his Daughter, and that I hope to bring to pass well enough. Now is it thy part to set on a good face in feigning this same marriage: to make Davus thoroughly afraid, and to be a watch over my son, espying what he doth, and whereof Davus and he do consult together.  So. 
You have said enough. I will see to it: we may now go in.  Si. 
Go thou first, I will come anon.   

¶ Act. 1. Scen. 2.  
The Argument.  
The father having found out that his Son is in love, pretendeth a marriage for him, he threateneth Davus with punishment if he shall go about any deceit to hinder the marriage.  

Simo, the old man.  
Davus, the servant.   
THere is no doubt of this, but that my Son will refuse to have a wife: I noted such fear ere while in Davus, as soon as he heard that there was a marriage towards: but lo where he comes forth himself.  Dauus. 
I marveled if this matter should pass away so, and still I feared whereto my Masters long gentleness would grow at length: who after he heard that she whom he thought of, should not be given in marriage to his son, did, (notwithstanding) never speak word to any of us, nor yet was any thing moved at it.  Si. 

Simo speaketh this out of the hearing of Dauus . But now he will, and that, as I ween to thy cost.  Da. 
His purpose was to have us brought under hand into fools paradise, to the end that now hoping the best, and having cast of all fear, we should suddenly be taken napping, in such sort, as we might not have time to bethink us how to prevent the marriage. A subtle fox I warrant him.  Si. 
What prates this Gallow-clapper?  Da. 
Good Lord my master is here, and I saw him not till now.  Si. 
Davus?  Da. 
Now, what is the matter?  Si 
Come your way hither to me.  Da. 
What a Devil will he have?  Si. 
What is that thou talkest of?  Da. 
Whereof should I talk?  Si. 
Askest thou whereof? Sirrah, the report is that my son is in love.  Da. 
Yea no doubt the world cares much for that.  Si. 
Nay, but dost thou mind what I speak to thee or not?  Da. 
Yes truly I mind it well enough.  Si. 
Well, for me now to go search and fift out that matter, were but the part of a hard father: for what he did heretofore, pertains nothing at all to me: so long as he took time convenient for it, I suffered him to fulfil his desire. Now it is high time for him to lead another life, and change his manners. And therefore I require, or if it be reason I desire thee Davos, that now at length he do return into the right way.  Da. 
What mean you by this?  Si. 
All men that be in love, can ill away to have wives appointed them by others.  Da. 
So they say.  Si. 
Then if one take a knave for his schoolmaster in that behalf, The love sick mind of the scholar is by him commonly applied to all naughtiness.  Da. 
Truly I understand you not.  Si. 
No, dost thou not?  Da. 
No, I am plain Davus, and not Oedipus [the reader of riddles.]  Si. 
Wilt thou then that I speak the rest of my mind plainly.  Da. 
Yea a God's name.  Si. 
If I shall perceive that thou go about to work any deceit this day, to the end to break of this marriage, or that thou wilt therein show how sly and crafty a companion thou art: I will kudgill thee well and thriftily, and then cast thee into the grinding house to grind till thou die: with this covenant and condition, that if I take thee out thence, than I myself to grind in thy place. What, hast thou understood me now? or dost thou not yet understand this neither?  Da. 
Yes full well, you went now very plainly to the matter, and nothing about the bush.  Si. 
I could rather bear any abuse at thy hands, than be deluded in this matter.  Da. 
Yet good words I pray you sir.  Si. 
What, dost thou laugh me to scorn? I see I am not a whit deceived in thee: But I tell thee this, that thou be not over rash, and that thou mayst not hereafter say but thou hadst a fair warning.   

¶ Act. 1. Scen. 3.  
The Argument.  
In this scene Davus deliberateth whether it be best for him to aid Pamphilus, or to obey the old man.  

Davus alone.   
IN good earnest Davus it is no time now to be slow and sluggish, so far as I perceived of late by the old man's speech touching the marriage: which if it be not cunningly provided for and prevented, will cast either me or my master clean under foot: And yet I wot not in the world what to do: whether I shall help Pamphilus, or else listen after the old man. If I leave him helpless, I fear me it will cost him his life: Contrariwise, if I aid and further him, than stand I in fear of the old man's threatening, whom it is a hard matter to beguile: for first and foremost, he knoweth certainly of this same love, and being at deadly feud with me, he watcheth lest I go about some guile to hinder the marriage: if he shall see any such matter by me, I am utterly undone: or if the Toy take him in the head, he will find some cause or other, and so be it right or wrong, he will tumble me headlong into the grinding house: Now over and besides these mischiefs, this comes also in the very nick: This same woman an of Andros whether she be wife to Pamphilus, or but his love, I know not, but great with child she is by him: And it is a world to hear their presumption: They fare as they were lunatic, and not love sick, for be it boy or girl that she shall be delivered of, they are determined to bring it 
* It was not Lawful in Athens to bring up the children begotten out of wedlock upon strange women, but rather to do them away.  up. And now they fain betwixt themselves an odd piece of craft, that this Glycerie is a free borne woman of Athens: There was a good while since (say they) a certain old Merchant which suffered shipwreck at the isle of Andros, who afterward died there: and that she being then a small succourless child cast on the shore, should (forsooth) be fostered by Chrysis father: A trim fable. In good faith methinks it sounds nothing like troth, and yet this feigned devise pleaseth them well. But lo where Mysis comes forth from her. Now will I go get me hence to the market place to meet with Pamphilus, lest his father come upon him unawares with this marriage matter.   

¶ Act. 1. Scen. 4.  
The Argument.  
MYSIS declareth the cause of her coming forth from Glycerie: And here Terence gives a lesson, That such especially as have charge of weighty business, aught to eschew immoderate drinking of wine, concluding that a drunkard can do nothing rightly.  

Mysys, the maid.   
ARchillis, I heard you a pretty while since, bid that Lesbia should be brought hither: In very truth she is a drunken harebrained woman, and far unfit to take charge of a woman in travail of her first child: yet nevertheless I will bring her: See how earnest the old Trot is, to have her here, and all because she is a drinking Gossip of hers. God grant my Mistress safe and speedy deliverance, and that any other miscarry under the hands of the Tipsy Midwife, rather than she: But what is the matter that I see Pamphilus so much out of quiet, I fear me all is not well: I will stay, and know whither this his trouble of mind, bring not some heavy news.   

¶ Act. 1. Scen. 5.  
The Argument.  
This scene contains the grief of Pamphilus as touching the marriages where likewise he promiseth to keep faithful touch with Glycerie, yea, whether his father will or no, if cause so require.  

Pamphilus, the young man.  
Mysis the, Maid.   
IS this a point of good nature, or a kindly deed? Is this the part of a Father?  My. 

* Mysis speaks this to herself, out of the hearing of Pamphilus . What might that be?  Pamph. 
O the faith of God and man, what can be greater spite than this? he had purposed with himself to marry me to a wife today: ought not I have known so much before hand? had it not been meet to have made me privy to it long ere this?  My. 

* This also is spoken by Mysis, out of the hearing of Pamphilus . Woe is me (silly wench that I am,) what news do I hear?  Pamph. 
What means Chremes, who having once denied to give me his daughter to wife, doth he now change his mind in that, because he seeth me still one manner of man? Doth he deal so overthwartly, to th'end to part me from Glycerie, forlorn man that I am? which, if it come to pass, I am clean cast away. Alas, alas, is there any man living so rest of all grace and good fortune as myself? O Lord God, shall I by no means be able to avoid the Alliance of Chremes? How many ways am I despised and set at nought? All things were done and passed, and so, I that was refused am sought for again, and wherefore, without it be as I suspect, they cloak some secret fault in her, and because she cannot be shifted to any other, they would thrust her on me.  My. 

This likewise she speaks to herself . These words do astony me for fear, (silly wench that I am)  Pamph. 
But what should I now say of my father? is it fit he go so carelessly to work about so great a matter? who passing by me erewhile at the market place, spoke to me in this sort: Pamphilus; thou must be married today: Get the home and make thee ready. It seemed to me he said, Get thee away quickly and hang thyself. I was utterly amazed: Think ye that I could bring forth one word, or make any excuse for myself, were it wrong, falls, or never so foolish? I became quite dumb. But had I wist so much before, if one should now ask me, what would I then have done, surely somewhat I would have done, rather than do as I did. But now whereto shall I first betake me? I am cumbered with so many cares, which diversly hale my mind to & fro, what with love & pity toward this woman, The grief I conceive of this marriage, and the shame I incur with my father, who hitherto so gently suffered me to do what I would, (and shall I now gainsay him?) That woe is me, I wot not what to do.  My. 

This speech of Mysis is overheard by Pamphilus . I fear me wretch whereto this doubtful pang will break in the end, so as now it is very needful that either he come and speak with my Mistress himself, or else that I say somewhat to him as touching her. For while his mind hangs thus in doubt, it is carried here, and there, with the least thing in the world.  Pamph. 
Who talks here? O Mysis, welcome.  My. 
God save you master Pamphilus.  Pamph. 
How doth thy mistress?  My. 
do you not know? she is in labour with child: And for this the silly woman takes care and thought, because heretofore your marriage was appointed to be made as this day: Moreover she is in great fear lest you will forsake her.  Pamph. 
O Lord, should I find in my heart to do so? Alas poor soul, should I suffer her to be deceived through me, which committed her whole trust unto me, and even put her life in my hands? Shall I deal so by her (whom I have entirely loved as my wife) that through need and necessity her chaste behaviour and well ordered life should be corrupted and changed? No, I will never do it.  My. 
I would not fear at all, if it lay only in you, but I fear how you will be able to hide the brunt of your father.  Pamph. 
What, dost thou think me so faint hearted, or moreover, so unkind, or uncourteous, or so cruel, as that neither our daily familiarity, nor love, nor yet very shame, can move me nor put me in mind to keep promise with her?  My. 
This one thing I wot well: she hath deserved that you should be mindful of her.  Pamph. 
That I should be mindful of her? O Mysis Mysis, those words of Chrysis remain yet printed in my mind, which she spoke unto me, as touching Glycerie: Being near the point of Death, she calls me to her: I came, and after you were gone aside and nobody left but we two: thus she began: Friend Pamphilus, you see of what beauty and years this same maiden is: neither are you to be told, what inconvenience these two things are unto her, both for saving her honesty and her stock: And therefore I pray you by this right hand of yours, and your honesty: I beseech you also on your faith and troth, and in respect of the solitary state of this maiden, that you will neither part her from you, nor forsake her: even as I have loved you as mine own brother, and as she always esteemed you alone above all men living, and was in all things ready at your commandment. I bequeath you to her, as husband, friend, tutor, and father. These our goods I commit unto you, and charge you with them of trust. Hereupon she delivered Glycerie unto me in way of marriage, and by and by gave up the Ghost: I received Glycerie of her, and having once received her, I will keep her still.  My. 
Truly I hope no less.  Pamph. 
But why art thou come from her?  My. 
I go for the midwife.  Pamph. 
high thee apace: and hearst thou me? beware thou speak not one word of the marriage, lest that also increase her grief.  My. 
O, I understand you.    


¶ Act 2. Scen. 1.  
The Argument.  
CARINUS understanding that Philumena shall be married to Pamphilus: entreateth Pamphilus that he do not marry her. Here Carinus and Byrria are purposely brought in, lest that Philumena should not be esteemed of at all.  

Carinus, a young man.  
Byrria, the servant.  
Pamphilus.   
BYrria, what sayest thou? shall she be married this day to Pamphilus?  Byr. 
Yea, even so.  Ca. 
How knowest thou?  Byr. 
I heard it of Davus but a little while since, at the market place.  Car. 
Woe is me unhappy man, for as my mind was held between hope and fear ever till now: so now that all hope is past, even worn and wearied with care, it is utterly dismayed.  Byr. 
I pray you Sir for God's sake, sith you cannot have what you would, that you will have what you may.  Car. 
There is nothing that I will have but Philumena.  Byr. 
Alas how much better were it for you, to seek to wear this love out of your mind, than to utter forth such speeches, whereby your desire is kindled more and more in vain.  Car. 
We can all lightly when we are in health, give good counsel to such as are sick: But if thou wert in my case, thou wouldst sing me a new song.  Byr. 
Well, go too then, do as you list.  Car. 
But to where I see Pamphilus, I am determined to prove all manner of ways before I die.  Byr. 
What will he now do?  Car. 
This same man will I entreat, him will I earnestly beseech, to him will I discover my love: I believe I shall get him to put of the marriage, at least, for a few days longer: and in the mean space I hope somewhat may be done.  Byr. 
That somewhat, will prove just nothing.  Car. 
But how thinkest thou Byrria, were I best go to him or not?  Byr. 
Yes, what else? though you obtain nothing at his hands, that yet he may think you ready to make him cuckold, if he do marry her.  Car. 
Go get thee hence knave, with a mischief to thee for thy peevish suspicion.  Pamph. 
I see Carinus: God speed sir.  Car, 
O Pamphilus, God save you: I come to you requesting at your hands, hope, health, help, and counsel.  Pamph. 
In good faith I am neither a meet man to give counsel, nor yet have wherewith to help another: but what is your matter?  Car. 
Do you marry today?  Pamph. 
So the talk goeth.  Car. 
Pamphilus if you do so, then shall you never see me alive after this day.  Pamph. 
Why, how so?  Car. 
Alas I fear to utter it: I pray thee Byrria do thou tell it him.  Byr. 
I will.  Pamph. 
What is it?  Byr. 
He is in love with your Bride.  Pamph. 
Now in good faith he is not of my mind: but come near and tell me Carinus, hath there been any further matter between you and her?  Car. 
O, Alas Pamphilus, no.  Pamph. 
marry sir I would there had.  Car. 
Now I heartily beseech you, even for the love and friendship betwixt you and me: first and foremost, that you do not marry her at all.  Pamph. 
Truly I will do my best endeavour.  Car. 
But if you may not otherwise choose, or that this marriage be according to your own heart:  Pamph. 
According to my heart?  Car 
Yet at least wise, prolong it for a day or two, while I get me away somewhither, that I may not behold it.  Pamph. 
Nay but listen to me now Carinus, I hold it in no wise the part of an honest man, to pike a thank where none is due unto him: God wot I am more desirous to be rid of this marriage, than you are to obtain it.  Car. 
You have revived my spirits.  Pamph. 
Now if either yourself, or Byrria here, can do aught in the matter, be doing, fain, find out and procure the means that you may have her: I for my part will so handle the matter, as she may not be married to me.  Car. 
I have my desire.  Pamph. 
Oh, in very good time do I see Davus, whose advise I use altogether.  Car. 

He speaketh to his servant Byrria . But in good sooth thou wilt tell me nothing, except such things as are not worth the knowing: dost thou not get thee hence.  Byr. 
Yes truly, and that with a very good will.   

¶ Act. 2. Scen. 2.  
The Argument.  
DAWS having gathered by sundry signs and conjectures the unlikelihood of the marriage, seeketh all the town over for Pamphilus, & rejoiceth out of measure.  

Davus.  
Charinus.  
Pamphilus.   
O Good God, what good news do I bring with me, But where shall I now find Pamphilus, that I may release him from that fear he is in, and fill his heart with joy.  Car. 

* This talk of Carinus and Pamphilus must be supposed to be betwixt themselves, Dauus neither hearing nor seeing them, and therefore he goeth on still with his speech  He is very merry, what the matter is I know not.  Pamph. 
It is nothing to any purpose, he hath not yet understood of this mischief.  Da: 
Whom I verily believe, if he have yet hard of the marriage prepared for him.  Car. 

* He speaketh still to Pamphilus . do you not hear what he saith?  Da: 
That he is beside himself, seeking for me all the Town over. But where shall I seek for him, or whither shall I now first go?  Car. 

* And this also he speaketh to Pamphilus . What, do you linger to speak to him?  Da: 
Well, I go my ways.  Pamph. 
Davus, come hither, stay.  Da. 
Who calls me? O my Master Pamphilus, you are the man I look for. Well met Carinus: I find you both in good time, even you two I would speaks with all.  Pamph. 
Davus, I am a forlorn man.  Da: 
But yet listen to me a little.  Pamph. 
I am cast away.  Da: 
I wot what you fear.  Car. 
Truly and my lief is in hazard in very deed.  Da: 
I wot also what you fear.  Pamph. 
I must be married.  Da: 
And that I know too.  Pamph. 
Yea but too day.  Da. 
You dull me with too many words, and yet I know the matter already. You fear lest you must marry Philumena: And you (Carinus) take care how you may marry her.  Car. 
Thou hast hit the nail on the head.  Pamph. 
That same is it.  Da. 
And in that, is there no danger at all: I warrant you.  Pamph. 
I pray thee for God's sake, rid me presently out of this fear, poor wretch that I am.  Da: 
Lo, I put you out of fear, Chremes will not at this time give you his daughter to wife.  Pamph. 
How knowest thou somuch?  Da: 
I know it full well: your father met me erewhile and told me that he would marry you this day to a wife, besides many things else, which now is no time to rehearse. By and by I hasted me and ran every foot to the market place, to tell you of this: and when I could not find you there, I got me up, on a high standing, and looked round about me, you were nowhere to be seen. By chance I spied Byrria this man's servant, I ask him for you, he said he saw you not. This troubled me: Than I bethink me what to do: and as I was returning thence, I fell to mistrust whether there were any marriage towards or no, I remembered there was very small provision of meat: he himself was very sad: The marriage was to be made on the sudden, This did not hang well together.  Pamph. 
What of all this?  Da: 
I presently got me to Chremes house, and being come thither, there was nobody stirring about the door, I was glad of that.  Car. 
You say well.  Pamph. 
Tell on.  Da: 
I stay there a while, and could see nobody either going in, or coming out, I went my ways in, and looked narrowly, there was never an elderly woman, no trimming up of the house, no stur or preparation.  Pamph. 
I grant you, it is great likelihood.  Da: 
Nay but do these things seem to agree with a marriage matter?  Pamph. 
No Davus, as I guess.  Da: 
Guess say you? you take your mark amiss: The matter is out of all doubt: Moreover, as I was coming thence, I met with Chremes boy, carrying potherbs and a halpwoorth of small fish for the old man's supper.  Car. 
Davus, I am rid out of danger this day by thy means.  Da: 
Truly but you are never the nearer.  Car: 
How can that be? for surely Chremes will not give his daughter in marriage to him.  Da: 
O wise woodcok, as though it must needs follow, if he give not his Daughter to him, that therefore you shall marry her: unless you see better unto it, and unless you make suit to the old man's friends, you do but throw your cap in the wind.  Car. 
You advise me well, I will go thither, although in good faith, this hope hath deceived me already more than once or twice. Farewell.   

¶ Act. 2. Scen. 3.  
The Argument.  
DAWS earnestly prayeth and persuadeth Pamphilus, to say unto his father that he will marry.  

Pamphilus.  
Davus.   
WHat means my father then? why doth he dissemble with us?  Da: 
marry I shall tell you, if so be it he be now in a chafe because Chremes will not marry his daughter unto you: Then lo, may he think with himself that he doth you wrong: But yet he will think it no wrong at all, before such time as he shall perceive how your mind is settled towards marriage. But if you shall refuse to marry, then will he lay all the fault upon you, and then will be old stir and hurleburly.  Pamph. 
What wouldst thou have me to do? that I should yield to marry?  Da: 
O master consider, he is your father, it is hard to withstand him: Moreover this Glycerie is a love woman, he will quickly pick a quarrel against her, and so turn her packing out of town:  Pamph. 
May he turn her away?  Da. 
Yes, out of hand.  Pamph. 
Then I pray thee Davus what shall I do?  Da. 
Say to your father that you will marry.  Pamph. 
Alas.  Da. 
Why, what is the matter?  Pamph. 
Should I say so?  Da. 
Why not?  Pamph. 
I will never do it.  Da: 
Never deny it.  Pamph. 
Never do thou persuade me to it.  Da: 
Do but consider what will follow of this.  Pamph. 
This will follow, that I shall be shut from Glycerie, and tied up to this woman.  Da: 
Not so: Marry I ween your father will say thus much to you: I will have you to marry a wife today. You shall say, I will: And then I pray you what cause shall he have to chide you? By this means you shall make all his devices which now are of force, to be then altogether frivolous: and that without any danger to yourself: for this is without all question, that Chremes will not marry his daughter unto you: And for more surety, you shall not cease to use glyceries' company still as you have done, lest haply he should alter his mind. Tell your father that you are willing to marry, so as when he would be angry with you, he may have no cause: for as for that vain hope of yours (imagining thus with yourself: Tush, it is no danger for me to withstand my father, No man will marry his daughter unto a man of my manners) I shall easily put you out of that hope: he will find out a poor and mean marriage for you, rather than he will suffer you to be spilled by harlots. But if he shall perceive that you are well content with this marriage, you shall make him reckless of the matter, he will seek another wife for you at leisure, and in the mean space some good fortune will fall.  Pamph. 
Dost thou think so?  Da: 
Nay surely there is no doubt of that.  Pamph. 
Yea, but take heed whereto thou persuadest me.  Da: 
What, are you not yet resolved?  Pamph. 
Well, I will say so to my father: but we must take heed, that he understand not of the child I have by Glycerie, for I have promised to bring it up.  Da. 
O notable hold deed.  Pamph. 
She earnestly besought me to give her my faith and troth on this, that so she might be sure I would not forsake her.  Da. 
Well, it shall be cared for. But your father is here hard by, beware that he do not find you sad.   

¶ Act 2. Scen 4.  
The Argument.  
In this scene be devices practised of both sides: Davus putteth Pamphilus in mind that he do not fear or faint, but that he be provided what to say to his father.  

Simo.  
Davus.  
Pamphilus.   
I Come again to see what they are a doing or consulting.  Da. 

* This he saith softly to Pamphilus: Simo neither hearing nor seeing them . He makes sure account that you will refuse to marry: he hath studied by himself, and is now come out of some solitary corner, hoping he hath devised talk wherewith he may bring you beside yourself: Therefore see that your wits be your own.  Pamph. 
I will do as well as I may.  Da. 
Master, credit me in this: I say unto you that your father will not give you one evil word today, if you do but say that you will marry.   

¶ Act. 2. Scen. 5.  
The Argument.  
BYRRIA watcheth Pamphilus: Pamphilus answereth his father that he is ready in all things at his commandment. Byrria makes report thereof to Carmus.  

Byrria.  
Simo.  
Davus.  
Pamphilus.   
MY master gave me commandment, that setting all business aside, I should watch Pamphilus this day, to th'end I might learn what he did as touching the marriage: and that is the matter I am now come after him hither: but lo where he is with Davus, here hard at hand. I will do that, that I come for.  Si. 

* Simo saith this to himself, having Dauus and Pamphilus in sight . I see them both present before my face.  Da. 

˘ Dauus speaketh this to Paphilus, because Simo draweth nigh . Hem, look to yourself.  Si. 
Pamphilus.  Da. 

ʒ All the speech of Dauus in this Scene, is only unto Pamphilus, and out of the hearing of Simo . Turn suddenly toward him as though you were not aware of his coming.  Pamph. 
Oh father.  Da. 
Well handled of you.  Si. 
I will have thee to be married to day, as I told thee before.  Byr. 

* Byrria saith this to himself out of their hearing . Now fear I of our side, how this man will answer.  Pamph. 
Neither in this thing, nor in any thing else, shall you find any let or delay, in me.  Byr. 

℈ All the speech of Byrria in this Scene, is either to himself, or to the audience: and not to any of the speakers . Out alas.  Da. 
He hath never a word more to say.  Byr. 
What did he answer?  Si. 
Thou dost as becometh thee, in that I obtain with thy good will, the thing which I require at thy hands.  Da: 
did not I say true?  Byr. 
As far as I here, my master is like to leap beside his wife.  Si. 
Now go thy ways in, that there be no tarrying for thee when need is.  Pamph. 
I go.  Byr. 
Is there no trust to be put in any man, for any thing in the world? 
Every man for himself and God for us all . That same is a true saying which is commonly used: Every man wisheth more good to himself than to another. I myself have seen that same maiden, and I remember she was of a good lovely favour: Therefore I blame not Pamphilus so much though he had leaver, lie colling of her himself a-nights, than that my Master should: well, I will go show all to my Master, that for these ill news he may give me ill language.   

¶ Act. 2. Scen. 6.  
The Argument.  
IN this scene Davus and Simo deceive one another: which is worth the noting.  

Davus.  
Simo.   

This he speaketh to the audience . NOw thinks the old man verily, that I bring some fly shift to beguile him, and that I stayed here therefore of purpose.  Si. 
What saith Davus?  Da: 
Truly even as much now as before.  Si. 
What, is it nothing thou sayest?  Da: 
Nothing at all.  Si. 
But I had hoped to hear somewhat.  Da. 

Dauus speaketh this to the Audience, out of the hearing of Simo . I perceive the matter fell out otherwise than he thought for, and that troubles the man.  Si. 
Canst thou tell me truth?  Da. 
Why, nothing readier.  Si. 
Is my son any thing grieved at this marriage, in respect of the love and familiarity betwixt him and this strange harlotry?  Da. 
No certainly, or if he be, his grief is but for two or three days (perceive you me?) and than it is done: for he will take a right course with himself, as touching that matter.  Si. 
I commend him for it.  Da. 
While he might, & while it stood with his youthful years, he gave himself to love: nor then neither, but secretly: for he took heed that it should not at any time bring him to ill name, even as became a manly man to do. Now it is meet for him to have a wife, he hath settled his mind on marriage.  Si. 
methought that he was somewhat sad.  Da. 
Not a whit for this matter, but there is some cause why he is not well pleased with you.  Si. 
What is that?  Da. 
A trifling matter.  Si. 
What is it, I say?  Da. 
Nothing in effect.  Si. 
But yet tell me what it is?  Da. 
He saith that there is too much niggardness used in this matter.  Si. 
What, by me?  Da. 
Yea by you. He scarcely (quoth he) bestowed forty pence in cates, and doth he seem to marry his son to a wife: what man of calling (of my friends and equals) shall I bid to my wedding feast, as the case now stands? And you likewise, here be it spoken, are too much sparing indeed, which I do not commend in you.  Si. 
Sirrah hold you your peace.  Da. 
I have moved his patience.  Si. 
I will see those things cared for well enough: but what is the meaning of this? what is it that this deceitful knave goeth about? surely if any thing happen otherwise than well, even that same varlet is the chief worker of it.    


¶ Act. 3. Scen. 1.  
The Argument.  
SIMO, through his overmuch wiliness, is notably deceived, thinking the birth of the child to be a feigned matter: which indeed was nothing less.  

Mysis.  
Simo.  
Davus.  
Lesbia, the Midwife.  
Glycerie, lying in childbed.   

This talk between Mysis and the midwife is overheard by Simo, whom they see not . IN good sooth Lesbia, it is very true as you say: one shall hardly find a man that is faithful and true of his word to a woman.  Si. 
This maid belongs to her of Andros, how sayest thou?  Da. 
She doth so.  My. 
And yet this young man Pamphilus.  Si. 

* He speaketh still to Dauus, & Mysis goeth on with her speech, not hearing him . What saith she?  My. 
Was as good as his word.  Si. 
What?  Da. 

ʒ Dauus speaks to the audience out of Simoes' hearing . I would to God that either the old man were deaf, or that prattling wench dumb.  My. 
For were it man child or woman child that my mistress were delivered of, he took order for the nursing of it.  Si. 
O the king of heaven, what is this I hear? Why, all is past help, at least if it be true that this maid tells.  Lesb. 

Lesbia & Mysis go on still with their talk and these interspeeches of Simo and Dauus, must be supposed to be uttered by themselves, out of the women's sight and hearing . He is a good natured young man, by your saying.  My. 
Yea of an excellent good nature: But do you follow me in presently, that she need not to stay for you.  Lesb. 
I come after you.  Da. 

℈ Dauus speaks this to the audience, out of Simoes' hearing  What remedy now may I find for this mischief?  Si. 
What means this? doth he dote so much on this strange harlot indeed? Now I perceive how this gear cottons: I scarce found it out now at last, foolish man that I am.  Da. 

˘ He speaks (as it were) to the audience . What doth he say that he hath found out?  Si. 
That knave seeks to abuse me with this falsehood first and foremost. They feign that this quean is brought a-bed, to th'end that so they may drive Chremes from giving his daughter.  Glycer. 

* This is uttered within by Glycerie, being in travail with child . Oh lady juno Lucina, help and save me I beseech thee.  Si. 
Whup hoyda: what in all the haste? see a foolish devise: as soon as she heard me at the door, she straight falls in labour: Davus, this was not half cunningly contrived of thee, each thing in his due time.  Da. 
What, by me?  Si. 
Why make you it so strange, have you forgot your scholar?  Da. 
I wot not what you say.  Si. 
If this knave had set his craft a brooch against me unawares, and in a marriage meant in good earnest: what pranks would he then have played me, trow you? But now, be it upon his peril: as for me I am safe.   

¶ Act. 3. Scen. 2.  
The Argument.  
LESBIA coming forth, showeth the state of Glycery lying in childbed: and withal appoints a drink to be given her, thereby imitating the Physicians, which are wont to prescribe unto the sick, what they shall eat and drink. Lastly, Simo and Davus are at variance about the birth of the child.  

Lesbia,  
Simo,  
Davus.   
HItherto Archillis I see all good signs of health in her, that are usual & ought to be in a woman in her case: Now first and foremost, cause you those things to be washed, and then give her that drink, and the same quantity that I appointed for her. I will come back again hither by and by. Before god there is a jolly bouncing boy borne unto Pamphilus: Now I pray God send him long to live, because he hath so honest a man to his father, who had care & conscience not to deal amiss with this kind hearted young woman.  Si. 
And who that knew thee, would not judge this also to be a craft of thy budget.  Da. 
And what is that, I pray you?  Si. 

So as Simo thinks that Glycerie is not brought a-bed, but that all this is feigned to blear his eyes with all . She did not will them while she was in the house, to do what was needful for the woman that lies in, but after she was come forth, she kept a prattling out of the street, unto them which were within doors. Why Davus, am I so little set by of thee? Or I pray thee, do I seem so fit a man, for thee to seek to beguile, with such manifest fraud and falsehood? At least wise thou dost thy diligence, so as I may well seem to be put in fear by thee: Surely if I had known it before.  Da. 

* Dauus saith this to the Audience . Now in good faith this man beguiles himself, I do not.  Si. 
Why, did I not give thee straight charge to the contrary? did I not threaten thee with punishment, that thou shouldst not do it? did it fear thee a whit? what hath it booted? Shall I now give thee credit in this: that she there, is brought a-bed of child by Pamphilus?  Da. 

* This he speaks to himself . O, ho, I see now wherein he is deceived: I wot well what I will do.  Si 
Dost thou not answer me?  Da. 
What should you give me credit? as though it was not told you before, that these things would come so to pass.  Si. 
Did anybody tell me so?  Da. 
Why then, did you of yourself, find that this is a feigned matter?  Si. 
He laughs me to scorn.  Da. 
No doubt it was told you before, for how else should it come upon you to suspect it?  Si. 
How? marry because I knew thee.  Da. 
As who should say, it was done by my devise.  Si. 
Yea I am well assured of that.  Da. 
Well sir, you do not yet thoroughly know what manner of man I am.  Si. 
do not I know thee knave?  Da. 
But when I begin to tell you any thing, you straight way think that I go about to beguile you.  Si. 
That is a lie.  Da. 
So as in good faith, now a days, I dare not scarce open my lips to you.  Si. 
This one thing I am sure of, that here is no woman delivered of child.  Da. 
Have you understood so? But nevertheless ere it be long, the child shall be brought here and laid before the door: Master, I tell you of it now before hand, that you may certainly know what will follow: lest hereafter you should say, that this was done by the counsel or craft of Davus: And I would in any wise, that this evil opinion which you have of me, were clean out of your mind.  Si. 
How camest thou to know this?  Da. 
I heard it, and I believe it be true.  Si. 
There be many things more than one, which cause me to conjecture as I do: Even now, is the first time that this quean declared herself to be with child by Pamphilus, which is but a false devise. Moreover, now that she sees preparation at home for the wedding, the maid forsooth, in all haste is sent for the midwife to come to her, and withal to bring also a child with her.  Da. 
Well, without that it come so to pass that you do see the child with your own eyes, nothing will hinder the course of this marriage.  Si. 
What sayest thou? when thou once understoodst that they purposed such a matter, why didst thou not then presently tell it unto Pamphilus?  Da. 
Why then, who else hath withdrawn him from these harlots but myself? for certainly we all know how exceedingly he loved this woman. Now he is desirous to have a wife, and as for that matter, let me alone withal: yet nevertheless go you on forward still with this marriage as you do: and I hope God will prosper it.  Si. 
Very well, go thy ways in, stay there till I come: and provide what is needful. 
Dauus being gone in, Simo turn his tale to the audience . He could not drive it into my head, to make me believe all this, neither am I certain whether all that he told me be true or no: But I pass not greatly for that. Marry the matter I stand most upon, is the promise which my son himself made unto me: Now will I go meet with Chremes: I will entreat him for his daughter to my son in marriage, and if I do obtain her, why should I make any more daying for the matter, but marry them out of the way? for as touching my sons promise, I have no doubt at all, if he shall refuse to perform it, but I may full rightly compel him to it. But lo yonder where Chremes himself comes towards me, even in as good time as may be.   

¶ Act. 3. Scen. 3.  
The Argument.  
In this scene, by means of Chremes and Simo meeting together, the feigned marriage is become a marriage in good earnest.  

Simo,  
and Chremes ,  the old men. 
GOD save you neighbour Chremes.  Chr. 
O sir, you are the only man I sought.  Si. 
And I you.  Ch. 
You come as well as I could wish: There have some been with me, which told me they heard you say that my daughter should this day be married to your son: Now the matter I come for, is to see, whether you, or they, do dote.  Si. 
Hear me a word, or two, and you shall soon know both what I desire of you, and also what you require of me.  Ch. 
I hear you, go to, speak your mind.  Si. 
Chremes I beseech you for God's sake, and for our friendships sake begun betwixt us from our childhood, and grown together with our years: I beseech you as you love your only daughter, & as you tender my son, whom it lieth in you chiefly to save or to spill, that you will help me now in this matter, and like as the marriage should have been, that so now, it may be made up betwixt them.  Chre. 
Tush, never pray me so much, as though you could not obtain this at my hands but by much praying: Do you think me now another manner of man, than I was then, when I promised my daughter unto you? If it be a matter profitable for both parts, that this marriage be made, then 'cause her forthwith to be sent for. But if there grow of this, more harm than good, as well to the one as to the other: Then my desire is, that you will consider of the matter indifferently for both parts, even no otherwise than if she were your daughter, and that I were father unto Pamphilus.  Si. 
Yea Chremes, even so is my meaning, and therefore do I request that it may be effected. Neither would I request it at your hands, if the matter if self did not give me good occasion.  Chr. 
What may that be?  Si. 
marry sir, my son and Glycerie are fallen out.  Chr. 
I hear you.  Si. 
Nay, but so far fallen out, as I hope they may be quite set asunder.  Chr. 
Tush, it is but a Tale.  Si. 
Nay, without doubt it is as I say.  Chr. 
Yea forsooth, thus, as I shall tell you, The falling out of Lovers, is a Renewing of Love.  Si. 
Alas, I pray you then, let us now prevent that, while time is, and while his hot love is alaid with bitter words: Let us couple him to a wife, before that this naughty parks shrewd crafts, and feigned tears, do work again his lovesick mind, unto pity and compassion: I hope (Chremes) that being once reclaimed, by means of good company and honest wedlock, he will afterward, with case, wind himself out of these mischiefs.  Chr. 
It seems so to you, but I think it neither possible for him to continue with this wife, nor yet for me to be able to endure it.  Si. 
How can you know that, until you have made trial of it?  Chr. 
Yea marry, but it is a shrewd matter to make that Trial upon my daughter.  Si. 
Well yet, the very worst and uttermost of all, can be but a divorce or separation, if any such matter should happen, as God forbid it should: But contrariwise, if by this means he do amend and become a new man, see than how many commodities ensue: First and foremost, you shall restore to your friend his son: next, you shall find a sure son in law to yourself, and lastly, a stayed husband to your daughter.  Chr. 
What? say you so? If you be persuaded that this is expedient, I for my part, will not have you hindered of any good turn that I may afford you.  Si. 
Chremes, not without good cause have I always set most store by you of any man.  Chr. 
But what said you erewhile?  Si. 
What?  Chr. 
How came you to know, that they be at jar between themselves?  Si. 
even Davus himself, the chief of their privy Council, did tell it me. And he likewise persuades me to hasten this marriage, as much as I may: Think you he would have done this, unless he were sure that my son desires the same? You shall hear him yourself, by and by. Holo sirs, call me out Davus hither. But see yonder where he comes forth of himself.   

¶ Act. 3. Scen. 4.  
The Argument.  
Davus fawning upon the old man, doth persuade him to make up the marriage, little thinking that it should come to pass in deed: But when he perceiveth that Simo deals in good earnest with Chremes as touching his daughter: he is then much perplexed, and clean beside himself.  

Davus.  
Simo.  
Chremes.   
I was coming to you.  Si. 
well, what is the matter?  Da. 
Why is not the bride sent for? it waxeth now very late.  Si. 

* Simo saith this softly to Chremes . do you not here him. Well Davus, I stood somewhat in fear of thee erewhile, lest thou (as the common sort of servants are wont) shouldst by craft and knavery have deceived me, in respect that my son is in love.  Da. 
Alas sir, should I have done such a deed?  Si. 
I was of that belief, and therefore fearing such a matter, I kept secret from my son and thee, that which now I will tell thee.  Da. 
What is it?  Si. 
Thou shalt know, for now in a manner, I begin to have some trust in thee.  Da. 
At last then, you know what manner of man I am.  Si. 
This marriage, was not meant to have been made indeed.  Da. 
What, was it not?  Si. 
No, but I feigned it of purpose, that I might thoroughly try you.  Da. 
What, is it true sir?  Si. 
It is even so as I tell thee.  Da. 
See, I could never perceive so much. O notable policy.  Si. 
Nay but listen to me, as soon as I bade thee go hence in, this man met me in excellent good time.  Da. 

* Dauus saith this softly to himself . Out alas, are we not clean cast a way?  Si. 
I show him all that thou toldst me erewhile.  Da. 

* And this like wise to himself . What is this I here?  Si. 
I entreat him for his daughter, and with much a do I obtain her.  Da. 
I am utterly undone.  Si. 
Hah, what sayest thou?  Da. 
I say it is excellently well done.  Si. 
Now is there no let or delay on this man's behalf.  Chr. 
I will straight go hence to bid every thing be made ready, and so bring word hither again.  Si. 
Now Davus I pray thee, sith thou alone hast brought this marriage for me to pass:  (Da. 
Yea truly, ay, and none else.)  Si. 
That thou wilt yet moreover labour my sons amendment.  Da. 
In deed I will do what I can.  Si. 
Thou mayst now well do it, especially while he is nettled at the heart.  Da. 
Well, set your mind at rest.  Si. 
Go to then, But where is he now?  Da. 
It is marvel if he be not at home.  Si. 

* Simo departeth and Dauus stayeth still . I will go to him, and tell him my mind in the same sort, as I told it thee.  Da. 
I am a forlorn creature, what shall keep me but that I must go hence straight into the grinding house to prison? No prayer or entreaty will serve, I have now brought all out of frame: I have deceived my master: I have forced a marriage on my Master's son: I was the cause that the marriage shall be made today, even quite unhoped for of the old man, & clean contrary to the mind of Pamphilus. See these goodly crafts of mine: had I not busied myself, there had happened no harm at all: 
Dauus espieth Pamphilus coming.  But lo yonder I see him himself, I am but a dead man: I would to God here were some place, where I might throw myself down headlong.   

¶ Act. 3. Scen. 5.  
The Argument.  
PAMPHILUS takes on very much, that by following the deceitful devise of Davus, he made answer to his father that he would marry.  

Pamphilus,  
Davus.   
WHere is that same mischievous varlet, which hath clean undone me?  Da. 
Now Lord have mercy upon me.  Pamph. 
And yet I confess, this that hath happened, is even good enough for me, when I would be so sottish, and so very a dolt, as to commit my whole estate and welfare unto a prating villain. Therefore I reap a just reward for my folly. But he shall never scape scotfree with it.  Da. 

This he saith out of Pamphilus hearing . I am sure to be safe enough for ever hereafter, if I may but now avoid this mischief.  Pamph. 
But what may I now say to my father? shall I now refuse marriage, and yet promised erewhile that I would marry? with what face dare I do that? I wot not what to do with myself.  Da. 

* Dauus speaketh all this out of Pamphilus hearing . Truly nor I neither, what to do with myself: yet this is it I am fully resolved upon, I will tell him that I shall presently find out some remedy, and so put of my punishment yet a little while.  Pamph. 
Oh.  Da. 
Now he sees me.  Pamph. 
Come hither you honest man: how say you sirrah, see you not how I (poor soul) am bestead by means of your devices?  Da. 
But I will remedy it by and by.  Pamph. 
Wilt thou remedy it?  Da. 
Yes certainly master Pamphilus.  Pamph. 
Yes, even as thou didst of late.  Da. 
Nay rather better, I hope.  Pamph. 
O, should I credit thee vile hangman? canst thou recover a matter full of trouble, and past all hope of help? Out alas, what a sure stay had I of thee, who this day, out of my greatest quietness, hast forced me into a marriage spite of my teeth? did I not tell thee it would come thus to pass?  Da. 
You did so.  Pamph. 
What then art thou worthy of?  Da. 
Hanging. But yet suffer me a little to come to myself, I will straight way seek out some help.  Pamph. 
Alas that I have not leisure to punish thee as I would: it is now time for me to see to myself, and not to be avenged of thee.    


¶ Act 4. Scen. 1.  
The Argument.  
This scene doth chiefly contain the angry speeches of Carinus against Pamphilus.  

Carinus.  
Pamphilus.  
Davus.   
IS this a thing credible, or worthy to be spoken of, that there should be somuch perverseness in any man, as to delight in evil, and to seek his own commodity, even by the discommodity of another? Is this kind of people to be trusted? Nay certainly, those are the very worst kind of people, who are somewhat shamefast in denying a Request, but afterward, when time requires performance of their promises, Then of necessity, they bewray themselves and falter, and yet the matter itself drives them then to a flat denial: Then is their speech void of all shame and honesty, as thus: who are you sir? What friend of mine are you? why should you desire my sweet heart? O sir, hear you me, I love you well, but myself better. Nevertheless, if you ask where is truth and trustiness of promise, they are never a whit ashamed. Now they are not afraid to deny, whenas they ought to perform: And yet are they then afraid, when they should not. But what shall I do? Is it best that I go to him, to taunt and take him up for this injury? I shall give him shrewd words his fill: But one may say to me, thou shalt be never the near: yes very much: without doubt I shall anger every vain in his heart, and withal shall ease mine own mind.  Pamph. 
Carinus, I have unawares (without God help us) even clean cast away both you and myself.  Car. 
Yea, unawares: is it so indeed? Now at last you have got an excuse: Tush, thou hast broken thy faith and promise.  Pamph. 
Why, what excuse now at last?  Car. 
What, wouldst thou yet again deceive me now, with those subtle speeches of thine?  Pamph. 
Why, what is the matter with you now?  Car. 
marry after I had told you that I was in love with Philumena, forsooth it pleased you to like her well for yourself: Woe is me woeful wretch, who esteemed the honesty of thy mind by mine own.  Pamph. 
You mistake the matter.  Car. 
Why, and dost thou not think this yet a joy perfect enough for thee, unless thou mayst make a tame fool of me that am in love, and feed me with vain hope? well, take her to thee.  Pamph. 
Should I take her? Alack, full little do you know, in how great troubles I am wrapped, unhappy man that I am: and what care and anguish, this my Tormentor hath put me to, with his devices.  Car. 
Why, is that such a marvel? he takes ensample by you.  Pamph. 
Well, you would not say this, if you knew either me, or my love.  Car. 
I know you were at words with your father of late, and that is the matter he is now displeased with you, but yet he could not compel you to marry her today.  Pamph. 
Yea and by how much the more you are ignorant of my heaviness: This same marriage was not meant or intended for me, neither did any man motion, now at this time, to procure a wife for me.  Car. 
I wot well, you are compelled to it even of your own free will.  Pamph. 
Abide, you wot not yet how the case stands.  Car. 
Yes certainly, I wot full well that you will marry her.  Pamph. 
Why do you thus kill my heart? hear me what I shall say to you: he never ceased, pressing, persuading, and praying me so long, till at last he enforced me to say unto my father, that I would marry her.  Car. 
What man did this?  Pamph. 
Davus.  Car. 
What, Davus?  Pamph. 
Yea, he brought all out of square.  Car. 
Wherefore did he so?  Pamph. 
I wot not in the world, without that God were highly offended with me, in that I followed his counsel.  Car. 
Davus, Didst thou do this?  Da. 
Yes.  Car. 
Hah, what sayest thou villain? Now I pray God give thee a mischievous end as thou hast deserved. Why I pray thee tell me, if all the enemies he hath in the world would have wished to force a marriage upon him, what other counsel could they have given him than this?  Da. 
Well, I am deceived, but not discouraged.  Car. 

* Ironic . I know it well.  Da. 
The matter came not well to pass this way, now we will take another course, unless you be of opinion, that because it had ill success at the first: that therefore this evil may not now be remedied at the last.  Pamph. 
Yes marry may it, for I verily believe if thou do bend thy whole endeavour unto it, thou wilt make for me two marriages of one.  Da. 
Master Pamphilus, this I owe unto you of duty, as being your servant: even day and night to labours to my uttermost with might and main, and to hazard my life to do you good withal: it is your part, if aught hath happened otherwise than was looked for, to pardon me. Be it that my doings prosper not: Why yet I do my true intent: Or find you some better remedy yourself, and let not me either make or meddle withal.  Pamph. 
That is it I desire: set me again in the same state thou foundest me.  Da. 
I will.  Pamph. 
But it must be done by and by.  Da. 
Alas, but yet stay a little, glyceries' door creaks.  Pamph. 
That is nothing to thee.  Da. 
Yet I would know.  Pamph. 
What, still more staying?  Da. 
Well, I will presently find you out a devise for this.   

¶ Act. 4. Scen. 2.  
The Argument.  
HERE Pamphilus makes promise unto Mysis that he will never forsake Glycerie: yea though he shall procure all men to be his enemies for it.  

Mysis.  
Pamph.  
Carinus.  
Davus.   
WHeresoever your friend Pamphilus be, I will forthwith seek him out, and bring him with me: In the mean time (dear heart) do not you vex yourself with thought.  Pamph. 
Mysis?  My. 
Who is there? O master Pamphilus, you meet me in very good time.  Pamph. 
What is the matter with thee?  My. 
My mistress bade me pray you for God's sake, if you love her, that you will come to her, now out of hand. She saith that she longs much to see you.  Pamph. 
Out alas, I am a forlorn man? This mischief begins now again afresh: Is it meet that both I and she (silly souls) should be thus vexed and disquieted through thy means? for doubtless that is the cause she now sends for me, having understood of the marriage I am towards.  Car. 
Concerning which matter truly, full easily mought we have been at quiet, if this knave had not busted himself.  Da. 
Go to, if he be not mad enough of himself, do thou prick him forward.  My. 
Truly forsooth, and even that is the cause that the woeful woman is in sorrow for.  Pamph. 
Mysis I swear to thee by all the Gods, that I will never forsake her, no not if I wist, I should have all men living mine enemies for it. I have desired this woman in my heart: She is fallen to my lot: we are alike in manners and condition: farewell they, that would set us two asunder. There shall none part her from me, but only death.  Car. 
I am now come to myself.  Pam. 
No not the answer of God Apollo can be truer than this. marry I would fain (if it may be) that my father shall not think, that I withstood the going forward of this marriage: But if it may not be, then will I go the plain way to work, that he may think that I did withstand it. What manner of man do I seem?  Car. 
even as forlorn a creature as myself.  Pamph. 
I seek for counsel.  Car. 
Thou art a valiant man.  Pamph. 
Davus I know whereabout thou goest.  Da. 
Well, certainly I will bring this to pass for you.  Pamph. 
It is more than time it were done.  Da. 
I have it but even now to do.  Car. 
What is it?  Da. 
That thou deceive not thyself, I have it for this man's behoof, and not for thine.  Car. 
That is sufficient for me.  Pam. 
Tell me I pray thee, what is that thou wilt do?  Da. 
I fear me, this day will scant serve me to do my business: Think not than, that I am now at leisure to discourse: Therefore get ye both away hence, for ye do but trouble me.  Pamph. 
I will go see Glycerie.  Da. 
And what will you? whither away hence?  Car. 
Wilt thou have me say the truth?  Da. 
Nay, now he begins to tell me some long tale.  Car. 
But what shall become of me?  Da. 
Why thou shameless man, is it not well for thee, that I gain thee one little days respite, in that I do prolong his marriage?  Car. 
O Davus, yet notwithstanding.  Da. 
What then?  Car. 
That I may attain to marry her.  Da. 
See a fool.  Car. 
Well, look thou come hither to me, if so he thou mayst do any good in the matter.  Da. 
To what end shall I come? I can do nothing.  Car. 
But yet if thou may do aught.  Da. 
Well, go to, I will come.  Car. 
If thou mayst do any thing, thou shalt find me at home.  Da. 

* Now he speaketh to Mysis . Mysis do thou stay here a little for me, till I come forth again.  My. 
Wherefore?  Da. 
For a thing that must needs be done.  My. 
high thee apace.  Da. 
I tell thee, I will be here again by and by.   

Act. 4 Scen. 3.  
The Argument.  
DAWS brings the child before Simoes' door, to th'end to drive Chremes back from accomplishing the marriage. And this scene consists more in gesture, then in utterance.  

Mysis.  
Davus.   
WHat, can one be sure of nothing in this world? O Lord God, I still thought, that this Pamphilus was my mistress chiefest joy, as being her friend, her lover, her husband, and one ready to serve her turn in all assays. But now (alack forlorn woman,) what grief takes she for his sake? without doubt there is more harm in this, than there was good in the other. But lo, Davus comes forth. Abide fellow, what is that, I pray thee? whither away carriest thou the child?  Da. 
Mysis, now must I needs have thee show thy ready wit and cunning in this matter.  My. 
Where about goest thou?  Da. 
Take this same child of me quickly, and lay it down before our door.  My. 
What I pray thee, on the bare ground?  Da. 
Take thee some herbs of this altar, and straw under it.  My. 
And why dost not thou do it thyself?  Da. 
Because if perhaps I shall be driven to swear to my master, that I laid it not there: That then I may swear with a safe conscience.  My. 
I perceive you. But yet tell me, I pray thee, how is it come upon thee to be so holy now of late?  Da. 
Go to, bestir thee, that thou mayest know further of my mind, what I will do. O good Lord.  My. 
Why, what now?  Da. 
The Bride's father is come, and hath prevented me. Now I leave of my purpose which I first intended.  My. 
I wot not what thou sayest.  Da. 
I will now make as though I came this other way on the right hand: See that thou be ready to answer and uphold my talk, in every point as shall be needful.  My. 
I perceive not at all, what thou intendest to do. But if there be any thing that my help may stand you in stead, or that thou see further into the matter than I do: I will stay here, lest you should be hindered of any benefit by my default.   

Act. 4. Scen. 4.  
The Argument.  
CHREMES heareth that Glycerie hath a child by Pamphilus, and withal that she is a free borne woman of Athens: by which means, he is quite withdrawn from the marriage.  

Chremes.  
Mysis.  
Davus.   
NOw that I have made all things in a readiness for my daughter's marriage, I am come again that I may cause her to be sent for. But what have we here? In good faith it is a child: woman didst thou lay this same child here?  My. 

* She looks after Dauus . Whether is this fellow gone?  Chr. 
What, wilt thou not answer me?  My. 
Alack he is nowhere in sight, woe is me (poor wench) the fellow is gone his ways, and left me here.  Da. 

* Now Dauus comes along . Good Lord of heaven, what hurlyburly is yonder at the market? how much people is there at strife? without it be that corn be at a high price, I wot not in the world what to make of it.  My. 
I pray you sirrah, why did you leave me here all alone?  Da. 
How now, what tale is this of a roasted horse? Nay but hearest thou me Mysis, whose child is this? or who brought it hither?  My. 
Art thou well in thy wits, that askest me this question?  Da. 
Whom then should I ask, seeing here is nobody else?  Chr. 

* This he saith to himself. Chremes must be supposed to stand a loof listening unto all the talk between Dauus and Mysis, and yet not showing himself unto them, but upon occasion of their talk he oft-times uttereth speeches as to himself . I marvel whence it should be?  Da. 
Wilt thou not tell me what I ask?  My. 
alas.  Da. 
Come thy way hither on my right hand.  My. 
Thou ravest, didst not thou thyself?—  Da. 
hushed, be not so hard for thy ears as to speak one word more than I shall ask thee.  My. 
Thou railest.  Da. 
Whence is this child? speak out aloud.  My. 
From among you.  Da. 
Ha ha ha, it is a wonder no doubt, if a whore play a shameless part.  Chr. 

* He speaks this to himself  This maid belongs to her of Andros for aught I can perceive.  Da. 
do we seem such fit copesmates for you to mock and dally withal?  Chr. 

˘ To himself . I came in time.  Da. 
bestir thee quickly, and take a way the child hence from the door. 
℈ This, Dauus speaks in a lower voice, that Chremes may not hear him . Abide still, see thou stir not a foot out of the place thou standst in.  My. 
I pray God a very vengeance light on thee, that so dost terrify me, poor wretch that I am.  Da. 
do I speak to thee or not?  My. 
What wouldst thou?  Da. 
And dost thou yet ask me what? I pray the whose child hast thou laid here? Tell me.  My. 
Dost not thou know?  Da. 

£ This he speaketh softly unto her . Let pass what I know, and tell me what I ask.  My. 
It is yours among you.  Da. 
Which of us oweth it?  My. 
Pamphilus.  Da. 

℥ This he repeats aloud because Chremes may hear him . Hah, what saidst thou? Is it Pamphilus' child?  My. 
Why I pray thee and is it not?  Chr. 

℞ To himself . I see I did well always to shun this same marriage.  Da. 
O notable prank worthy of punishment.  My. 
What exclaiming makest thou?  Da. 
Why, did not I see this same child brought unto you yesterday in the evening?  My. 
O thou brazen fast fellow.  Da. 

* Dauus urgeth Mysis to prove plainly that the child is borne of Glycerie, lest otherwise Chremes should imagine it to be a feigned matter, as Simo doth. Act. 3. Scen. 1.  At least I saw gammer Canthara with her clothes tucked about her, carrying somewhat in her lap.  My. 
In good faith yet I thank GOD with all my heart, that there were some free women of the city, at my mistress deliverance.  Da. 
Without doubt she knew not him, for whose cause she takes this matter in hand. If Chremes shall see this same child, laid here before the door, then will he not give his daughter in marriage: Ah, in good sooth he will give her somuch the sooner.  Chr. 

Meaning by himself . But in good sooth he will not.  Da. 
Now be thou well assured of this, that if thou do not take away the child, I will by and by spurn it into the midst of the street, where I will trample thee also in the dirt.  My. 
In good sadness fellow, thou art not well in thy wits.  Da. 
One deceitful devise brings another to light: I hear now such whispering among them, that this same Glycerie is free borne of Athens.  Chr. 

* Chremes speaks still to himself . What is this?  Da. 
So as he shall be driven by law to marry her.  My. 
Why I pray thee, and is she not free of this City indeed?  Chr. 
I see I was well nigh fallen into a shrewd sporting game unawares.  Da. 
Who talketh here? O Chremes, you come, in as good time as may be: hear me what I shall say.  Chr. 
I have heard every word already.  Da. 
What, have you heard all this talk?  Chr. 
I tell thee I heard all from the beginning.  Da. 
I pray you and have you heard it in deed? fie, out upon these lewd pranks: Now should this same quean be had hence into Bridewell. This same is the man thou dost mock: think not then, that thou mockest Davus.  My. 
Alas for me unhappy wench that I am: In good sooth, old father, I have told nothing but truth.  Chr. 
I know the whole matter already: but is Simo within.  Da. 
Yes.  My. 

* It seems that Dauus offereth to dally and play with Mysis, seeking thereby to please her: and she will not abide him . Touch me not thou varlet. By God if I tell not all this unto Glicerie, [never credit me.]  Da. 
Why thou foolish wench, thou perceivest not what is done.  My. 
What should I perceive?  Da. 
This man is the Bride's father: it might not otherwise be compassed, to make him understand these things that we would have him.  My. 
Why then, thou shouldst have told me so before.  Da. 
I pray thee now, and dost thou think but small difference between that, that one doth in good earnest, and that which is done for the nonce.   

¶ Act. 4. Scen. 5.  
The Argument.  
CRITO coming from Andres to Athens, inquireth whether Glycerie have found out who be her parents or no: and understanding that she hath not yet found them, he is therewith much grieved, because that matter doth hinder his enjoying of the goods fallen unto him by glyceries' death.  

Crito, the stranger.  
Mysis.  
Davus.   
IT was told me, that here in this street, dwelled Chrysis, who chose rather in this town to gather goods with dishonesty, than to lead an honest poor life, in her own country. By whose death, those same goods, by right of law, are come to me. But I see now of whom I may inquire. God speed you.  My. 
I pray you whom do I see? Is not this Crito, cousin germane to Chrysis? it is even he.  Cr. 
O Mysis, God save you.  My. 
And you too good Crito.  Cr. 
Alack for pity, and is Chrysis dead indeed?  My. 
Yea truly forsooth, we poor souls are undone by her death.  Cr. 
Why, what do you? how goeth the world with you here, all well?  My. 
What we? Truly (as the proverb goeth) we do as we may, sith we may not as we would.  Cr. 
How fares Glycerie, hath she found out yet who be her parents here?  My. 
Would God she had.  Cr. 
Why then, & hath she not yet? Than in an ill hour am I come hither. For in good faith if I had known this, I would never have set foot forward in this journey. For she hath ever been held and reputed for Chrysis own sister. She is in present possession of all that the other had. And now, for me a stranger to go follow suits and brabbles in law, how easy and profitable a matter were that for me here to do, even the examples of others do foreshow me. Besides that, I cannot but think, that she hath now some friend and defender, for she was of meetly good age and stature, when she went from us. I should be exclaimed upon to be a beggarly fogger, greedily hunting after heritage. And moreover, it were no reason to spoil her of that she hath.  My. 
O gaffer Crito, in good sooth full well dost thou keep thy old wont still.  Cr. 
Well, sith I am come hither, bring me to her, that I may yet see her.  My. 
With a very-good will.  Da. 
I will follow these, but I would not for any thing, that the old man should now see me.    


¶ Act. 5. Scen. 1.  
The Argument.  
SIMO earnestly desireth to effect the marriage: Chremes on the other side utterly renounceth Pamphilus for his son in law, because he hath a child by Glycerie.  

Chremes.  
Simo.   
WELL neighbour Simo, you have now had trial enough and enough again, of my love and friendship towards you. I began to enter into danger far enough for you. Now at length cease your entreating: for while I bent myself to follow your fancy, I had well nigh cast away my daughter.  Si. 
Nay rather (neighbour Chremes) I most instantly request and beseech you, that you will now perform in deed, the good turn that ere while you promised me on your word.  Chr. 
See how unreasonable you are, respecting your own desire: so you may bring to pass what you would have, you neither regard a mean in courtesy, nor yet consider what you request at my hands: for if you did, you would (now at last) give over to surcharge me with your unreasonableness.  Si. 
With what unreasonableness?  Chr. 
Why, & do you ask me with what? marry sir, you enforced me thus far, that to a loose young man entangled in love with a strange harlot, and utterly misliking marriage, I should give my daughter to wife, to be in daily discord, and uncertain state of wedlock, to th'end that with her travail, and trouble, I might heal your sons disease. You obtained this at my hands, and I went about it while there was any boot: now it boots not, you must therefore bear with me. They say, that same woman is free born of this City. She is delivered of a child. Seek to us no further.  Si. 
I beseech you for God's sake, not to give your mind to credit those, whose greatest profit groweth by my sons lewdest living: All this, is but forged and framed for the nonce, by reason of this marriage: when the cause why they do this, is once taken away, Than they will cease.  Chr. 
You are deceived, for I myself saw her maid chiding and brawling with Davus.  Si. 
I grant you.  Chr. 
Nay but in right good earnest, whenas neither of them both was aware of my being there.  Si. 
I believe it well, and that they would do so, Davus foretold me a pretty while since, but I wot not how, otherwise than I meant, I forgot to tell you somuch.   

¶ Act. 5. Scen. 2.  
The Argument.  
SIMo hearing by Davus, that there was one come, which affirmed Glycerie to be free borne of Athens: in a great rage, causeth Davus to be had into prison fast bound. And herein, Terence doth lively express the usual manner both of an angry father, and also of an angry master.  

Davus.  
Chremes.  
Simo.  
Dromo, the whipping beadle.   
AT my word, now (at length) set your heart at rest:  Chr. 

* Thus Simo and Chremes do talk betwixt themselves, & Dauus goeth on still in his speech . See where Davus is.  Si. 

* Thus Simo and Chremes do talk betwixt themselves, & Dauus goeth on still in his speech . Whence comes he?  Da. 
What through my help, and yonder stranger.  Si. 

℈ He speaketh out of Davus' hearing . What knavery is that?  Da. 
I have not seen a meeter man, a more seasonable coming, nor a fitter time.  Si. 

˘ And so here likewise . Whom doth this varlet prays thus?  Da. 
Now all is out of danger.  Si. 
Why do I linger to speak to him?  Da. 

℥ Now at last he espieth Simo . My master is here, what shall I do.  Si. 
O, all hail to you honest man.  Da. 
Now master, and master Chremes, all things be in a readiness within.  Si. 
O it is trimly done of you.  Da. 
Now send for him when you will.  Si. 
Very well surely: that is the cause forsooth he is now absent: Nay but answer me to this, what business hast thou there? 
* That is in Glyceries house   Da. 
Who, I?  Si. 
Yea.  Da. 
What, I?  Si. 
Yea, you sirrah.  Da. 
I went in but even now.  Si. 
As though I asked how long ago it was.  Da. 
Your son and I went in together.  Si. 
Why then, and is Pamphilus within? I am still vexed unhappy man that I am. Why thou hangman thou, didst not thou tell me that they are fallen at debate.  Da. 
So they are.  Si. 
What makes he there than?  Chr. 

* This is spoken in derision . What think you that he is a doing? he is sure chiding with her.  Da. 
Nay but master Chremes, you shall hear me tell you of a notable strange matter: I wot not what old man is come yonder even now, but to look to, he is a substantial and wary man: if you saw his face, you would take him for a right honest man. In his countenance is sad gravity, and his words do sound of truth.  Si. 
What tidings bringst thou?  Da. 
Nothing forsooth but what I heard him say.  Si. 
And what saith he, I pray you?  Da. 
marry that he knoweth Glycerie to be a free born woman of Athens.  Si. 

* Simo calls for him that whips the slaves . Hola howh, Dromo, Dromo.  Dro. 
What is the matter?  Si. 
Dromo.  Da. 
Why, hear me sir.  Si. 
If thou speak one word more— Dromo.  Da. 
I beseech you hear me.  Dro. 
What would you have sir?  Si. 
Hoist up this knave on thy back, and carry him in as fast as thou canst.  Dr. 
Whom?  Si. 
Davus.  Da. 
Wherefore?  Si. 
Because I will have it so, take him away I say.  Da. 
What have I done sir?  Si. 
Away with him.  Da. 
If you do find that I told you any lie, kill me forth right.  Si. 
I will not here one word: I shall set thee in a beat by and by, I warrant thee.  Da. 
What, notwithstanding I say nothing but Troth?  Si. 

˘ He speaks to Dromo . Yea nevertheless, sirrah see thou that he be kept fast fettered: and hearest thou me? bind his hands and feet together, 
* He turns his speech to Dauus and Pamphilus.  Now sir go to: By God if I live this day to an end, I will teach thee and him both, what danger it is for the one of you to beguile his master, and for the other to deceive his father.  Chr. 
Tush man, be not in so great a rage.  Si. 
O Chremes, do you not pity me, to see what reverend regard my son hath towards me? and that I should take somuch travail for such a son? Well go to Pamphilus: Come out here Pamphilus, Is there no shame in thee?   

Act. 5. Scen. 3.  
The Argument.  
SIMO sharply rebuketh his son: who confessing his fault, submitteth himself wholly unto his father's pleasure, Chremes endeavoureth to appease th extreme Rage of Simo.  

Pamphilus.  
Simo.  
Chremes.   
WHo calls me? O I am undone, it is my father.  Si. 
What sayest thou? thou errand—  Chr. 
Fie, go to the matter, and cease your evil language.  Si. 
Yea as though there could be any name too ill for this fellow. Now sirrah, do you say the same too? Is Glycerie free bone of this City?  Pamph. 
So it is reported.  Si. 
So it is reported? O wonderful impudence, doth he consider what he sayth, think you? is he any thing sorry for his misdeed? Nay but see, doth his colour any whit change, or show any sign of shamefastness? is it meet he should be so unruly, as that contrary to the custom of his countrymen, contrary to law, and contrary to the mind of his father, he do labour to have that same naughty pack, even to his utter infamy and reproach?  Pam. 
Woe is me, forlorn man that I am.  Si. 
O Pamphilus, Pamphilus, dost thou now perceive that, and never before? Long since iwis, long since, when thou gavest thy mind so lewdly, as that by one mean or other thou must fulfil thy lust: lo, even that very first day, had this been truly said of thee. But what mean I? why do I vex and disquiet myself? why do I consume myself with care? why do I wear my old age, with sorrowing for his madness? is it, that I should suffer punishment for his faults? Nay rather, let him have her: and farewell he: let him live with her and spare not.  Pam. 
My good father.  Si. 
What my good father? as who should say, you have any need of this father: why, you have got you house, and wife, and children, and all maugre your father's heart. There be also those brought, which affirm that same quean to be free borne of this city: well, you shall have the victory.  Pam. 
Father, may I speak a word or two?  Si. 
What wilt thou say to me?  Chr. 
O Simo, yet hear him.  Si. 
I hear him Chremes? what should I hear him?  Chr. 
Why man, yet give him leave to speak.  Si. 
Well go too, he may speak, I let him not.  Pamph. 
Father, I confess I love that same woman: and if that be an offence, I confess that also. I submit myself into your hands father, lay upon me what charge you will: command me. Is it your pleasure I should marry a wife? will you have me forego this woman? well, I will bear all as I may. Only this I beseech you, not to believe that this old man is come hither by my appointment. Give me leave to clear myself, and that I may bring the man here before your face.  Si. 
That thou mayst bring him here?  Pam. 
Yea Father, suffer. me.  Chr. 
He craves but reason, give him leave.  Pam. 
Let me obtain this much at your hands.  Si. 
I am content. Chremes, I yield to any thing, so that I find not myself to be deceived by this fellow.  Chr. 
Small punishment contents a father, for a great offence in his son.   

¶ Act. 5. Scen. 4.  
The Argument.  
In this scene Crito of Athens meeteth both with Simo and Chremes, whereby the whole error of the comedy is laid open: for here, Glycerie is manifested to be the daughter of Chremes.  

Crito, the stranger.  
Chremes.  
Simo.  
Pamphilus.   
cease to pray me, any one of these respects, shall cause me to do it: as either for your own sake, or for that the matter is truth, or in respect that I wish well to Glycerie.  Chr. 
What, is it Crito of Andros that I do see? Truly it is he indeed. Welcome Crito: what make you at Athens, being here such a stranger?  Cr. 
It is so fallen out. But is this Simo?  Chr. 
This same is he.  Si. 
What, is it for me thou askest? why sirrah, dost thou say that Glycerie is free borne of this City?  Cr. 
Dost thou deny it?  Si. 
What, and art thou come so well provided indeed.  Cr. 
Why so?  Si. 
Askest thou why? shalt thou do this, and scape unpunished? dost thou toll here into thy snare, young men void of experience, and honestly brought up? Art thou he that feedest forth their minds with enticing & fair promising?  Cr. 
Abide, art thou well in thy wits?  Si. 
And dost thou make marriages betwixt them and the harlots that they are in love withal?  Pamph. 

This to himself . Alas I am undone, I fear me the stranger will have never a word to say.  Chr. 
Simo, if you knew this man thoroughly, you would not think so of him: this is an honest man.  Si. 
May this fellow be an honest man? comes he this day so jump in the very time of this marriage: and could he come never before now? why Chremes, is this a man to be believed?  Pam. 
Were I not afeard of my father, I could tell him that which would satisfy him in this point well enough.  Si. 
Hah fogging knave.  Cr. 
What?  Chr. 
O Crito bear with him, this is his fashion.  Cr. 
Nay let him consider what he is: As for me, if he proceed to call me at his pleasure, he shall hear that, that shall be little to his liking. do I let that same marriage? or do I ought at all pass for it? 
* He turns his speech to Simo . Thou dost not bear thy grief patiently: for as touching what I spoke, whether it be true or false that you heard, may soon be known.  

Here is recited the argument of the Comedy . A certain man of Athens, a good while since, suffering Shipwreck, was cast on shore at Andros, together with that same Glycerie, as than a little child. This man being then in need & necessity: by chance first arrived at the house of Chrysis father.  Si. 
Now he begins a fable.  Chr. 
Suffer him to go on.  Cr. 
What, even so indeed? he interrupts me.  Chr. 
Go on with your tale.  Cr. 
Moreover, he which received him into his house, was my cousin: there did I hear the man himself say, that he was of Athens: and in that house he died.  Chr. 
What was his name?  Cr. 
would you know his name so quickly? Phania.  Chr. 
Out alas today.  Cr. 
In good sooth, I take it, his name was Phania. This I am well assured of, that he said he was a 
* Rhamnus was a famous village by Athens. And Rhamnusius, 〈◊〉 is a man of that village.  Rhamnusian.  Chr. 
O the King of heaven.  Cr. 
Yea Chremes, there were then many other in Andros, which hard him say the same.  Chr. 
Would to God it were no otherwise than I hope for. But tell me this Crito, what said he then as touching the girl? did he say that she was his daughter?  Cr. 
No.  Chr. 
Whose then?  Cr. 
His brother's daughter.  Chr. 
Without doubt she is mine.  Cr. 
What say you?  Si. 
Nay what sayest thou?  Pamph. 
Listen to this gear Pamphilus.  Si. 
What think you of this?  Chr. 
That same Phania was my brother.  Si. 
I knew the man, and I wot well he was your brother.  Chr. 
He flying hence, for fear of the war, takes his way after me into Asia, and than he was afraid to leave her here behind him. Since which time, I never heard what became of him till now.  Pam. 
I am well nigh beside myself, my mind is so whelmed, with fear, hope, Ioy, and with wondering at so great, and so sudden good hap.  Si. 
Now in good faith, I am glad that by many proofs she is found to be your daughter.  Pamph. 
Father I believe it well.  Chr. 
But there remains yet one doubt, which sore troubles me.  Pamph. 
You are well worthy to be hated for your peevish preciseness: you make a doubt where all is as plain as a pack staff.  Cr. 
What is that you doubt of?  Chr. 
Her name falls not out right.  Cr. 
Truly she had another name, when she was a child.  Chr. 
What name? Cannot you remember it Crito?  Cr. 
I am calling it to mind.  Pamph. 
Shall I suffer this man's memory to be a hindrance unto my wished joy, whenas I may help myself in this point? no, I will not suffer it. Lo you hear Cremes, the name you seek for, is Passibula.  Cr. 
That same is she.  Chr. 
Is it even she.  Pamp. 
she hath told it me her own self a thousand times.  Si. 
Chremes, I ween you believe that we all rejoice at this.  Chr. 
Yea so God me help, do I believe it.  Pamph. 
Father, what remains now to be done?  Si. 
The matter itself hath reconciled me a good while since.  Pamph. 
O an excellent father. Chremes altereth nothing as touching my wife, but that I may still enjoy her, as I have done.  Chr. 
marry and good cause why. Unless your father say otherwise.  Pamph. 
Only, as touching the dowry.  Si. 
Yea marry, that.  Chr. 
Pamphilus her dowry is five hundred pound.  Pamph. 
I accept it.  Chr. 
I will now high me to my daughter, and you Crito, go with me: for I believe she never knew me.  Si. 
And why do you not rather cause her to be brought hither to you?  Pamph. 
You put us well in mind, I will presently cause Davus to go about that matter.  Si. 
He cannot.  Pamph. 
How so?  Si. 
marry because he hath a great matter of his own, which toucheth him nearer.  Pamph. 
What is that?  Si. 
He lieth bound in prison.  Pamph. 
Father, then is he wrongfully bound.  Si. 
Not so, I commanded it.  Pamph. 
I beseech you, command that he be let loose.  Si. 
Go to, be it so.  Pamph. 
But make haste than.  Si. 
I go in straight way.  Pamph. 
O Blissful and happy day that this is.   

¶ Act. 5. Scen. 5.  
The Argument.  
PAMPHILUS declareth unto Davus, how that Glycerie is found to be free borne of Athens, & that he shall marry her Likewise Carinus showeth unto Pamphilus, that by his means, he also may obtain Philumena at Chremes hands. This Scene brings another son in law to Chremes: lest that either Carinus should depart away sorrowful, or that Philumena should be left unprovided for.  

Carinus.  
Pamphilus.  
Davus.   
I I am come forth, to see what Pamphilus is a doing: but lo where he is.  Pamph. 
Perhaps somebody would think that I scant believe this to be true, but I will have it to be true, as it is in deed. I suppose that therefore the life of the Gods is everlasting, because pleasures do properly belong unto them: for mine own part, I am in heaven all ready, if so be it, no grief of mind do intermingle with this joy. But now what man should I most specially desire to meet withal, to whom I might show all that hath happened.  Car. 

This to himself . What great joy is that?  Pamph. 
Lo, I see Davus: There is no man living that I would fainer have: for I am sure that he, of all other, will unfeignedly rejoice at my joy and gladness.  Da. 
whereabout here, is Pamphilus?  Pamph. 
Davus.  Da. 
What man is that?  Pamph. 
It is I.  Da. 
O my master Pamphilus.  Pamph. 
Thou wotst not what hath happened to me.  Da. 
Very true, but I wot well what hath happened to myself.  Pamph. 
And so do I too.  Da. 
Yea it came to pass after the common course of the world, that you knew of the evil that happened to me, sooner than I knew of the good that happened to you.  Pamph. 
My sweet love Glycerie, hath found out who be her parents.  Da. 
O happy chance.  Car. 

* This he saith to himself . What is that?  Pamph. 
Her father is a very special friend of ours.  Da. 
Who is that?  Pamph. 
Chremes.  Da. 
You say well.  Pamph. 
Neither is there any let or tarriance, but that I may marry her out of hand.  Car. 

This is spoken out of the hearing of Pamphilus . What, doth he not dream trow you, that which his mind ran upon being awake?  Pamph. 
Now moreover Davus, as touching the child.  Da. 
Tush let it alone, God doth specially provide for it above all other children.  Car. 

Carinus is over heard by Pamphilus . I am a made man, if this be true: I will sure speak with him.  Pamph. 
What man is there? O Carinus, you come to me, even as well as heart can wish.  Car. 
It is well.  Pamph. 
What, have you heard the matter?  Car. 
Yes every whit: Go to, have some respect of me, now in the time of your prosperity: I know that Chremes is now yours altogether, and will do all that you will have him do.  Pamph. 
I wot it full well: but it would be too long for us, to tarry and look for his coming forth:  
Therefore follow me along this way: he is now within with Glicerie. Davus go thou thy way home: high thee, go for company to bring her away hence. Why dost thou stand still? why goest thou not?  Da. 
I am going.  

This seems not to he spoken by any of the interlocutors, but by some other coming last on the stage . Do not stay looking for their coming out: for she shall be betrothed within: and if any thing more remain to be done, it shall be dispatched within also.  
Now clap hands, and rejoice.   
FINIS. 

Here is to be understood that as Pamphilus hath Glycerie to wife: Even so Carinus likewise hath Philumena, the other Daughter of Chremes.