THE TWO FIRST COMEDIES OF Terence called Andria, and the Eunuch newly Englished by THOMAS NEWMAN. FITTED FOR scholar Private action in their Schools. Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus Interpres. Horace. LONDON, Printed by G. M. and are to be sold at the house of M. Fenricus next to the greyhound Tavern in the Blackfriars. 1627. Author ad Librum OLd wives and fools have faith, the cricket's song In the warmed chimney portends death ere long My creed holds no such thing. If crickets sing, I rather doubt th'o'reheated bricks may bring Some danger to my house when these I hear, (If any thing) I only fire do fear: But many things (poor Book) I justly fear, When critics descants on thy lines I hear. Libri ad Authorem responsio. Fear no true critic; all that know you, know What love and honour to such men you owe: And men of that high name, will never throw Their censures on an argument so low. These I not fear; but I do doubt them though, Who would from fools Censorious critics grow. T. N TO THE scholars of Paul's School, T. N. wisheth increase in grace and learning. WHat I at first intended for mine own employment to pass away spare time, and afterward purposed for your private exercise only, is now made public not by my free and voluntary election; but by an accident of near nature to constraint. For having hastily finished the translation of these two first comedies of Terence, and ended the four first acts of the third, I missed my book one alone day, and then found it again gelded of the three Latter Acts of the third Comedy. Shortly after I met the Copy thereof in the hands of a Stationer: whence I conjectured that my book had been copied out by character for sale; and that done by some lame and ignorant Author, who was not able to be his own decipherer. I had neglected this thief, this plagiary; and had suffered him to make use of my labour, but that one honest and learned gentleman had seen my doings in Andria, and who also knew I was about the residue. You apprehend the just reason of this publication. As touching my Dedication, I do not so much doubt the imputation of carelessness of my credit in seeking Patronage from raw and green youth, as I fear the challenge of ambitiousness in providing Patrons, who are to stand up in all succession of times so long as your Schools foundation shall continue: and some of you being likely very shortly to become of most full ability to defend your unknown Client. But till you arrive at such maturity, give me leave to maintain myself, and to prepare you. I have already heard somewhat, whereby I further suspect how I may be further quarrelled. There will perhaps some be found who on their good faiths will protest that this general licentiousness of turning Latin books into English, caries with it much inconvenience. I hope in the general looseness they include not those extant translations of Livy, pliny, Plutarch, Suetonius, Tacitus, and the like Authors: if they mean only such versions as was that of Ovid's Art of love, & the like books tending to corruption of youth, I will join with them; and add, that such translations are not only inconvenient but impious also. But in Terence is no such danger. In those few passages where his matter bears any rank sent or sense, you shall find it hushed by some modest close Eclipse, or stopping Aposiopesis; or else couched under such dark and mystical terms, as the young scholar cannot apprehend to any danger of defiling: which course I have also pursued. Besides Terence (as I heard) hath formerly been Englished and published: so that this way I might decline the crime, of first turning him into our tongues, but because I never saw that English Author, and therefore know not how he hath carried it, I dare not shelter myself under such precedent: but I dare venture to share with Theod. Beza in any hazard of this imputation; and let such cavilers know, that they by this aspersion shall be found to wound that learned Frenchman through my sides: for his translation is extant, imprinted in French on one side and in Latin on the other side of every leaf: and is now in the hands of all young scholars, throughout the whole French Kingdom. From the matter of the translation I come to the manner, and therein do foresee, that it may be objected, that where Terence many times useth general terms, I do so rashly particularise him, places that in many places I retain not the purpose & meaning of my Author; and again, that in some my English doth not render the Latin truly: by the first they would enforce, that I conceive not the drift and scope of my Author; by the later that I understand not his words. I will only give you two or three instances, the better to prepare you to apprehend the rest. An. Act. 1. Sc. 1. ver. 3. Curentur haec that these things be well ordered or looked too, I in special terms thus restrain, that these things be well cooked; having relation to Isthaec intrò auferte going before, where I understand Isthaec to be meant of provision for a dissembled wedding supper. Here it may be opposed by some, not out of their own brains or conceit, but by arguments filched out of blind and ignorant Authors, that I am beside the cushion. I am not ignorant of three reasons used above a hundred years ago against this interpretation. First it is said that Auferre is a word denoting things contemptible, and therefore cannot be meant of Cates or dainties of diet. Secondly, it is affirmed that here was no such provision made as would require these servants to carry in: and this they ground on the words of Davus Act. 2. Scen. 2. Paululum obsonij. And again, Act. 2. Scen. 6. Vix drachmis inquit obsonatus est decem. Thirdly, they urge the old French printed books, where by the pictures expressing the arguments of every Scene certain logs or billets are figured, and not baskets with provision from the market. Whence they would infer that by Isthaec no feasting stuff is intended but matter of fuel only. Perceive you not the blockish conceit of these loggerhead arguers? stay a while; and perhaps I shall afford you means, better to understand the matter. First, therefore I confess and avoid the argument of contempt: for though Auferre (according to Donat) be commonly used of things spoken of with disdain, yet not always so; for that which Terence meant by Auferte isthaec in the first line, is named Curentur haec in the third: Now Curatio in its proper notion is Medicinae, aut (quae est eius famula) coquinae; and cannot be said of any thing whereof we speak with disdain or loathing. Davus words prove nothing: they only extenuate, do not deny the provision. And for the French pictures. Painters and Poets (you know) take much liberty: but for answer I say, that Ascensius a learned critic, great Grammarian and famous Printer above 100. years ago in France, and so best able to determine, the doubt, taking upon him to argue the question, hath left the matter indifferent: yet inclines rather to Edulia than ligna. And methinks such interpretation may be evinced by evidence of reasons; for besides that a wedding was strongly to be borne up (this could not handsomely be carried without a feast) it is manifest that Simo came from the market: for so Pamphilus, Act. 1. Scen. 5. Pater praeteriens modò apud forum. Did these servants attend Simo thence with billets or bavins on their shoulders? this construction were as ridiculous, as improbable that a man of Simo's estate whose son was worthy to receive ten talents in portion with a wife, Act. 5. Scen. 4. should be unfurnished of such ordinary provision. Or came these servants empty home after Simo? and were appointed to carry in logs and faggots then lying before their Master's door? this conjecture is as absurd; for how came the wood there? why did it trouble the stage? or which way might it concern the Argument? Especially why should Sosia formerly made free, now suspect that his Master Simo would Mutare factum; and recall him to a second bondage, by imposing upon him such slavish drudgery as Curare focum; a scullion's no freed man's office? what art needed hereto? and Sosia tenders employment of art in the words immediately following Quid est, quod ars mea tibi efficere possit amplius? Indeed to steward a feast had in it some art, and seems to have been a part of freed men's employments, Eunuch, Act. 3. Scen. 5. ver. 60. Thus I hope I have given you some reason of this interpretation. Besides Guido hath long ago so construed it, viz. Anno Dom. 1497. and Ascensius reviewing Guido & in many places correcting him, hath yet herein against his own french printed copies allowed him, at lest left it indifferent. I told you before I had heard somewhat: it was of him in whose hands I met with my adulterate copy. This man charged the book with many foul errors, and that justly: One thing he taxed which was mine own; yet which I durst not maintain, for fear of giving suspicion that I was father of the rest. Ander. Act. 2. Scen. 2. The words were Olera & pisciculos portantem in coenam seni, Which I render with herbs and small sprats for the old man's supper: The challenge was, that the doer took Pisciculus to be Latin for the sprot; beside (said he) it would be considered whether this fish were to be found in the Attic seas. I would not have vouchsafed answer hereunto, but that many coincident passages in the book will directly fall under the same frivolous cavil. In this respect therefore I thought good to satisfy you herein; that by the same reason you may be the better armed to defend the residue. I know Pisciculus to be a general word including every species of small fishes, and not the sprot only, as well as Coetus doth comprehend Quamuis belluam marinam, and not the whale alone: yet should I translate Immania cete hideous or dreadful whales, I think the sharpest sighted Grammarian would wink at it. Whither the sprot hath ever been eaten in Athens, I neither know nor care: I writ in London, and would speak to be understood: And being to set down a poor & homely fish supper thought by sprats it might be well expressed. Master Gascoigne long since translated a Comedy of Ariosto's, which he Englished Supposes: this was presented in Gray's Inn. He therein thus describes an homely and scanty supper— One small shotterel a pennyworth of cheese, and ten spurlings. I think no wise man would press that translator to instance in the very fishes in kind by Ariosto named: I could indeed have wished he had named some other course fish better known to his audience: which he might have done if he had said, One shotten herring, and some half score of red sprats: For my part, I do not understand what a Shottrellor a Spurling meaneth. Yea Terence himself in the Eunuch Act. 2. sc. 2. brings in Gnato reckoning up a number of several kinds of Victuallers, Cetarij, lanij, coqui, fartores, piscatores &c. It shall be hard for the best critic to prove all these professions to be had in Athens in menander's time. This is {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} Comicum as pardonable as usual among translators. Furcifer I call pillory rogue: the pillory being with us a punishment of reproach, nearest to that which they underwent, who thence were called Furciferi amongst the ancient Romans. Grammarians divide themselves into two parties about the word Riscus, Eunuch A. 4.1.6. I incline to the one side, and imagine it some such thing as is our hamper of Wicker covered with leather. Peniculus is a word of large extent, and manifold signification, I render it a mop wherewith our servants use to cleanse wet floors; if another shall call it the cook's malkin wherewith they clear ovens, I will not challenge it. Many things were in Athens in menander's time, which Terence had never seen, there were as many in Rome in Terence his time, which no English man knoweth. Shall I be driven to give names of things not extant? If I put in things now in being to supply the place of other things long since lost, to the understanding of my Reader and sufficient expression of my Author, I hope I can be no further required. These and the like are the main things which I doubt to hear of; for the rest I leave to your free and courteous censure; which yet I desire you to spare, till a few years more be over your heads; and then also to use this method. Let the original and the English copy be laid together; consult for evidence with the old expositors: if they chance to wrangle (as they do almost everywhere) then if you please harken to Donat and Ascensius; if these at any time be silent, or else varie (this happens seldom) then make use of your own judgement. After this course taken you may with pleasure stuff your book with marginal castigations; to me it shall be no disparagement, to you it will prove much advantageous; there being no book of this kind, to the studious and often turning over whereof I would more willingly excite you. The hope of this your diligence shall encourage me to let slip no vacant time till I have sent the other four Comedies among you. Now the Father of lights and giver of all good gifts enlighten your understandings; strengthen your memories; rectify your wills; and furnish you with all needful graces, that you may become a comfort to your parents and governors, a credit to your schoolmaster, and Tutors, an ornament to the Church and state wherein you are to live. In the mean time. committing you to your studies, I bid you heartily farewell. Your very hearty well wisher T. N. The Andrian Woman. The ARGUMENT according to muretus' collection. THere were two brethren Citizens of Athens, the one called Chremes the other Phania. Chremes being to travel into Asia left the charge of his then only daughter Basibula an infant with his brother Phania. Shortly after his departure out of Attica, Phania also to avoid the rage of war growing hot in Greece, shipped himself thence with his little niece, directing his course towards the place where he supposed Chremes abode: but suffering shipwreck was cast with the little one, upon the shore of the Isle of Andros, where getting entertainment of a poor Islander he shortly after died. His host after his decease, changeth the child's name from Pasibula into Glycerium; and having bred her up for some years in equal education with his own natural child called Chrysis, himself also dyeth. Chremes in the Interim had returned to Athens, and there had another daughter named Philumena: And all this while supposed his brother and his other daughter to have long since perished at sea. Chrisis being left fatherless and poor leaves Andros, and taking Glycerium with her sails to Athens; where they dwell together as reputed sisters. Chrisis turns harlot: her lovers draw along with them to her house one Pamphilus' son of Simo an ancient Athenian Citizen. Pamphilus falling in love with Glycerium gets her with child, and affianceth himself to her. Chremes upon a public fame of Pamphilus his virtues treats with Simo for a match between their children Pamphilus and Philumena: and a marriage is agreed upon between the two old fathers, Pamphilus being not made acquainted. Chrysis soon after dies, at whose funerals Pamphilus occasionally discovered signs of very ardent affection to Glycerium; which Chremes hearing of, renounceth him for son in law as one apparently besotted and entangled with extraordinary love to a straggling strumpet (so ignorantly he styled the issue of his proper loins) Pamphilus (now first hearing of the determined match) is glad such marriage is disappointed. Simo frets at it. And now is the prefixed day of marriage come, being the day containing the argument of this Comedy. Simo makes show to all the people of his family, as if the marriage were on this day to be solemnised, and this he did out of a foxlike subtlety to feel his son's inclination to marriage, and upon his refusal to have just occasion of complaint against him, which hitherto he had not. And if his son should declare readiness to entertain the match, he then thought it would prove no such difficult matter to overrule Chremes; and so the business to go on as it was first determined. Simo having thus projected matters, meets his son; and will him to pray to the gods for success upon his marriage instantly to be accomplished. The son at his father's salutation stands thunderstrucken, ignorant what course to take for prevention. Davus comes to him in this distraction, at what time one Charinus was with him. This Charinus was a young man inflamed with the love of Philumena, the intended bride; and was now in a manner desperate, when he understood that Pamphilus was that day to marry her: Pamphilus assures him of his purposed resolution to the contrary. This was the theme of their discourse when Davus came upon them. Davus (now) was Simoes' servant, a fellow of good reach: and he upon grounds reasonable had conceived his old master's fetch in this pretended marriage, which (having sent away Charinus) he opens to Pamphilus: resolving him that in all likelihood the old man did but cast out a hook to catch at his inclination to Glycerium: wishing him therefore without all scruple to promise his father all obedience and readiness in embracing this faced marriage; he further intimates, that no hazard was likely hereby to ensue: for that Chremes having once openly refused him, would not (at least so suddenly) entertain him for a son in law. Pamphilus puts the advice in execution. Simo and Davus venture either of them upon the hazard, but Simo his luck carries it. For Chremes is won to a new consent, and now is Pamphilus in danger to be cast upon a present marriage, where he never intended. What may Davus how do? author of a counsel not so unlikely as unlucky? Chance presents him occasion, and he hath good brain to make use of the least offered occasion: what is that? Glycerium is brought to bed: the new borne child is by her maid, but by Davus' direction) laid at Simo's door: and this is done just when Chremes must of necessity see it: Davus further so carries the matter, that Chremes understands who is father, who is mother to the child. These things justly moan Chremes to a second renunciation: Hence great stirie ariseth: Crito a man of Andros (arrived at Athens upon news of crisis her death, being next heir to her estate) ends all; by discovering glycerium's freedom & parentage. Pamphilus marries Glycerium now again known by her first name Pasibula; Charinus marries the other sister Philumena. The Actors and their Characters. SImo An old man careful of his son, whom he loved at first for his reported virtues: and after he once doubted his carriage, showed his greater love in his care of him. In the first Seen he carries himself mild in discourse and behaviour: and still after increaseth in angry mood, till at length he grows to rage and passion. Pamphilus. Son to Simo, a well qualified young man and faithful lover. Davus Servant of the family, subtle wife, confident. Dromo. Another servant, only used for Davus' punishment. Sosia. Snno's freedman, a protatic person brought in only, to whom the ground of the argument might be opened. Chremes. an old man of a quiet and tranquil spirit. Glycerium. Daughter of Chremes not presented on the Stage; neither speaks but within doors in labour of childbirth: Lesbia. Her midwife. Misis. Her maid-servant. Charinus. A young man, simple and ignorant. Byrrhia. His man for wit above his master. Discreet. Crito. A stranger of Andros, poor yet honest, wise and of a good spirit and stomach. The Prologue. Our Poet first setting his mind to write, Deemed this the sole main charge upon him laid, To please the people with the plays he made: But now he finds that he misreckoned quite. For, that he cannot (Prologue wise) now lay The argument of this his play aright, Is caused by an old rancorous poet's spite; Who drutes him to clear faults, leave the meant way. Now pray observe their cavilings: those plays Andria and Perinthia, which Menander wrote, (Know one, know both) not much unlike in plot, Are different yet both in their style and phrase. He not denies that from Perinthia Those things which seemed convenient in the same, He (as his own) hath drawn into the frame, And course of this presented Andria. This is the thing they challenge: and they brawl That in such sort a cleanly Comedy Should not be hotch-potched. These men verily While much they seem, show they know nought at all: Who him accusing draw his precedents Navius, Plautus, Ennius, in like crime, To whose mistakings he would rather climb, Then follow these men's obscure diligence. I further wish 'em hence forth keep 'em still; And cease with evil language him to sting; Lest their ill doing in their ears do ring. Spectators kind, of you we crave good will; In silence shown and kind attention; That without prejudice our play you'd hear: Thence you may fully know, if it rest clear, That all our future purposed action Of new made plays be to be banished quite; Without adventuring your hereafter sight: THE ANDRIAN WOMAN. Act. 1. Scen. 1. Enter Simo and Sosia with two or three servants more bearing provision from the Market. Simo. You sirs have those things in: away I say. Exeunt the servants. Sosia draw near; I am to speak with you. Sos. I think th'errand given; your meaning is I look to those things careful cookery. Sim. No: 'tis another matter. Sos. Pray say on What 'tis, my art may further do for you. Sim. Here's need of no such art, in what I purpose; But of those parts which I have ever noted To dwell in thee; trust, and true secrecy. Sos. I wait your pleasure. Sim. Since I bought thee first Being then a youngling, in what gentle sort, In what due course, thou ledst thy service with me, thyself well know'st: and for I found thee careful In thy employments, the best good I had To answer it, I gave thee; liberty. Sos. I ●●●re it sir in mind. Sim. And I repent nor. Sos. 〈◊〉 is my heart's joy Master, if I did Or 〈◊〉 can do, ought to your satisfaction; And further owe you thanks that you acknowledge I well accepted: yet it troubles me, For this remembrancing your benefit, Seems to upbraid me, as forgetting it. Pray in one word acquaint me with your pleasure. Sim. I will; but first I tell thee of this thing, This which thou thinkst is no meant marriage. Sos. Why make you as it were then? Sim. Thou shalt hear From the beginning all: and by that means Shalt better know my son's forepast life, My present purpose, and thy future charge. My Son having passed his childhood Sosia Hath now more scope allowed him; before How could one know or fist his disposition, While tender age, fear, tutors awed him? Sos. Sir, you say right. Sim. What almost all youth do, To set their mind on one some chosen course; That to breed Hearse, this Hounds, and both to hunt, A third to study of Philosophy: He none of these followed professedly, Above the rest: but yet all moderately. I joyed at it. Sos. Sir, not without good cause: "For to o'erdo no one thing, in my sense " To man's life is of chiefest consequence. Sim. Such his behaviour; all those gently To bear and forbear, that he kept withal; Apply himself to please and humour all; Cross none, nor proudly seek to overtop His young companions: so that easily He got him friends and praise; yet without envy. Sos. He bore him wisely: for in this times state Sweet yielding procures friends; blunt truth gets hate. Sim. meanwhile a certain woman three years since Drawn by her wants and kindred's negligence, From Anaros Isle came to our neighbourhood; Of passing beauty, flouring womanhood. Sos. I fear this Andrian woman bodes no good. Sim. She at the first a sparing chaste life led; At Rock and Loom, hard laboured to get bread: But when a first, a second, a third came; Tendering their loves, gifts promised with the same, (As all our natures are prone commonly From labour unto wanton liberty) She stooped to lure, began the gainful trade. By those that then chief love unto her made, My Son was drawn along occasionally To banquet with 'em; keep 'em company. I to myself— Sure the young fry is ta'en: H'as catched the poisoned bait; with it, his bane. These lovers' servants passing to and fro I every morning watch; and calling to One that I spied, thus question; Prithee lad, Who yesterday yond Chrysis company had? So was the Andrian called. Sos. Sir. I conceive you. Sim. The answer was, Phoedrus, or Nicerate, Or Clinias (for at that time those three Her jointly loved.) I reply presently, And what did Pamphilus? what? (answers he.) He staked his share, and supped: this gladded me. At other times I cast more news to learn; Still nothing found that did my Son concern. I thought him now proof-tempered 'gainst excess, Great pattern of a settled staidness. For he that deals with natures of this kind, Yet thereby grows not staggering in his mind; To such a man's own hands thou mayst be bold To leave the free reigns of his life in hold. As this gave me most satisfying pleasure, So all tongues talked my good, proclaimed my treasure, In having such a qualified Son. What should I make further relation? Chremes our neighbour drawn by this same bruit, Freely comes to me; and makes earnest suit To place his daughter, yea his only one With a large dowry as wife unto my Son: I agreed the marriage, on his motion; And this the day, it is appointed on. Sos. What barie now stoppeth? why in very deed According to the show, it not proceed? Sim. I'll tell thee: few days after this befell, Our neighbour Chrysis died. Sos. That's chanced well. You have revived me; I much doubted her. Sim. With Chrysis lovers still my Son comes there Alike her funeral looks to; alike cheer Sometimes of sadness shows, sometimes alike Weeps with 'em: I his carriage well did like Thus argued I; Her death how tenderly For very small acquaintance doth he take? What, if himself had loved her? what for me, What will he do for me, his Father's sake? All this I thought in my simplicity, Merely the functions of humility, And of kind heart. Why lengthen I my tale? myself for his sake tend the funeral. Dreaming as yet no evil. Sos. Ha! what means this? Sim. I'll cause thee know. The dead corpse is brought out; Along we go; now there amidst the throng Of wanton, I a maiden very young Perchance espied; of person— Sos. Perhaps handsome. Sim. ay, and of countenance Sosia so delightsome, So modest, fair, that nothing might her stain: Who for she seemed to me, in all the train Most to lament; and was above the rest Of sweet and comely personage and face. I pressed near to the Maids, asked what she was: They told me Chrysis sister. Instantly It struck me cold at heart. Oh God! thought I, Hence grew his tears: his tenderness she breeds. Sos. How I do fear whither your tale proceeds. Sim. The Funeral goes on: we attend the same To th'Sepulchre she's come: into the flame She's put: all weep. The maid I named late Approached the fire, as careless, desperate; To her evident danger: here my frighted Son Well showed his long concealed affection So close dissembled: to her hies he fast, And both his arms folding about her waist, My dear Glycerium says he, how dost? say, What cause hast thou to make thyself away? Then she (that all their endeared love might spy) Cast herself on him, weeping tenderly. Sos. How? what do you say? Sim. Home I get me straight, Enraged and fretting; yet no cause of weight Appeared to me to chide him: he might plead, What foul fact have I done? what merited? Or wherein faulted, Father? one that sought To burn herself, I hindered (as I ought) And saved her life. It were a fair reply. Sos. You weigh things well; for if deservedly He may be chidden which helped life to save, Who hurts or spoils one, what should that man have? Sim. Next day comes Chremes to me, urging thus, Oh case to be lamented! Pamphilus (I find clear) holds yond stranger harlotry In place of a just wife: this earnestly I do deny, he stiffly holds. In fine, I so part with him, as one utterly Denies to give his Daughter to my Son. Sos. Chid you not Pamphilus yet? Sim. Nor yet I saw A grounded cause to build a chiding on. Sos. Why I pray? Sim. Thus my Son might urge his law: yourself sir set a limitation To this my course: the time is coming on, I must myself to another's will apply: Let me ath interim mine own satisfy. Sos. For what cause then of blaming will you 〈◊〉 Sim. If for loose love he shall doom to marry That is the first occasion that I seek Against him; and the present way I make By this self marriage, if he show mislike Is hereby true pretence of blame to take. Besides, if wicked Davus have afoot Any contrivement, that he now consume His stock of knavery whilst it cannot hurt Who (I imagine) tooth and nail will practise, And that with purpose rather to cross me Then please my Son. Sos. Why should you so conceive? Sim. Makest thou a question? evil minds, ill manners. Whom if in any thing I shall discover— But what need talk? if happily it fall (As I do wish) my Son be nothing backward, It only rests, that I persuade with Chremes: Which I hope may be wrought. Now, be't your charge Well to bear up this seeming marriage; Fright Davus; observe my son's carriage; And note their consultations. Sos. 'tis enough; I'll see to 't: shall we in. Sim. Go before, I follow. Exit Sosia. There is no question, my Son would decline This marriage; that I marked in Davus' fear, When he had heard that wedding did go forward. But he himself comes forth. Scen. 2. Enter Dauus. Dau. I mar'ld if this would end so, and still doubted Whereto my Masters caline remissness tended: Who when he saw his Son could have no wife, Never made word to us on't; nor gave sign Of being troubled at it. Sim. Now he will Talk to you on't; and as I do suppose To your no little cost. Dau. This was his cunning, To lead us on in fair fools paradise; And in our secure dreaming take us napping, Having no time to cast prevention. A fox i'faith. Sim. What is't the knave talks on? Dau. My Master, and unheeded! Sim. Dauus— Dau. Ha, what is the affair? Sim. Come you hither to me. Dau. What now trow is in working? Sim. What fairest thou? Dau. What sir the business? Sim. Dost thou demand that? folks talk my son's in love. Dau. That by’r lady Concerns the world to think on. Sim. Dost mark me In what I say or not? Dau. Oh, yes sir well. Sim. But now of this for me to make inquiry Were no kind Father's part. What hitherto H'as done, I pass not: while the time permitted I gave him way to take his course and pleasures: His years now call for a new life, new manners. Henceforward Davus I require, or rather (If the word may befit me) I request thee, Retrieve my Son from this loose liberty. Dau. What may this mean? Sim. All these loose libertines That wantonly do love, cannot endure To hear of wiving. Dau. So indeed they say Sim. Beside, if such one chance to light upon Some patron of his inclination, His raw green sickly mind he commonly Wonts to the worser part still to apply. Dau. Troth sir I understand you not. Sim. How, not? Dau. No verily: I am your plain man Davus; No riddle-teller, cunning Oedipus. Sim. thou'dst then in plain terms have me speak my mind? Dau. Yes, pray at any hand sir. Sim. If I find That thou today use any cunning crotchet, Whereby to hinder this intended wedding; Or fain wouldst show thy wits fine nimbleness: When I have first well whipped thee, in the Mill I'll thrust thee, to thy very dying day: With this proviso and condition, If ever I thence free thee, I'll grind for thee. What, understandest me yet, or not yet neither? Dau. Yes clearly now; you've used no round-abouts, But come to th' matter roundly. Sim. In aught else Save this, I better could endure a slighting. Dau. Pray sir good words yet. Sim. Makest thou a jest on't? I know thee to a hair: but I do tell thee, lest thou shouldst rashly venture. Do not say But thouhast had fair warning given thee: look to't. Exit Simo. Scen. 3. Dau. Upon my faith now Davus here's no leisure Left thee, to rest or dream upon the matter; For ought I gather of the old man's purpose Touching this wedding. which not wisely holpen Me or young Master undoes utterly. Not can I judge my best course, him to succour, Or lean to the old man's counsel: forsake him? I doubt his life; assist him? th'other's threats; Whom to o'er reach it's hard. First h'as discovered All of their love: then keeps hard watch o'er me, lest I should lead some trumping card in th'way: Which if he find, I'm lost: or else at pleasure he'll take occasion, be it right, be it wrong; And to the Mill I shall be tumbled headlong. To all these hazards comes another mischief: This Andrian woman, be she his wife, or leman, Is great with child by him. Now, 'tis worth nothing To hear their bold adventure: none can judge it Fond lover's fancy, but mere frenzy rather: For whether boy or girl she shall bring forth, They have resolved to keep and nourish it. Besides they coin a pretty cunning fable, Among themselves, that she's free Attic borne. There was long since (say they) an ancient Merchant Shipwrecked on Andros Island; who there died; And that with him then saved, Chrysis Father Took up a little girl. Conceited fiction! To me it seems unlikely: yet they soothe Themselves i'th' tale. But see Mysis coming Enter Mysis. From out glycerium's house. I'll to the Market To seek out Pamphilus: for fear his Father unwates do press him with this business. Exit Dauus. Scen. 4. Mys. GOod God Archillis, I do hear you woman: You would have Lesbia fetched; upon my word She is a drunken gossip, and unheedy: And one scarce fit to whom you may commit A woman in first childbirth: Yet He fetch her. Note you the old ones importunity! None but her pot companion will serve turn. But I pray God grant this a good delivery: Enter Pamphilus. And that the Midwife rather may elsewhere Neglect, than here. But what may be the cause I Pamph 'us see so much disquieted? I fear what it may be. I'll stay a while To know the reason of his troubled gesture. Scen. 5. Pam. IS this kind dealing? courteous attempt? Is this a Father's carriage? Mys. What is that? Pam. Oh gods and men your faith! what can be said, Neglect, disgrace, or scorn, if this be none? Say he had meant to marry me today; Ought I not have foreknown it? ought I not Have been made privy to it? Mys. Out alas, Wretch that I am, what do I hear him talk of? Pam. What should I think of Chremes? who denied To trust me as a husband with his daughter? Changeth he mind, because I rest unchanged? That he should still thus obstinately endeavour Me most accursed to divorce and sever From my Glycertam? which, if it fall out, I am undone for ever. Amongst men Was ever yet found out one more disgraceful? More every way unhappy than myself? Men, gods assist me! is there left no way For me to shun Chremes affinity? How many ways have I been scorned? refused? (All done, all ended) the other day cast of Ain now again required: and why so? Unless (I guess) h'has some deformed piece, Which when he cannot fasten upon any, He seeks to 〈◊〉 on me? Mys. This talk of his Kills me poor wretch with fear. Pam. For what should I Now of my Father speak? Oh God! that he So weighty a thing should do so carelessly. Passing now by me in the Marketplace, Go, get you home, says he; and fit yourself: This day you must be married Pamphilus. To me his words seemed of such sound and sense, As he had said, get home and hang thyself. I stood confounded at it. Do you think I had a word to utter? any excuse? Though foolish, false, unfitting? I stood dumb. Yet had I known't afore, what could I do? If any now should ask me, I would surely Use other course, then (as I did) keep silence. But now what first thing shall I enter on? So many cares, several distraction, Puzzles my mind: love, pity of her, fear About this marriage so loathed, so near: Then the respect I owe my Father, who So mildly hath me suffered hitherto Without restraint to run my own free race, In every course I listed: with what face May I now cross his pleasure? wretched me! I know not what to rest on. Mys. I poor woman Doubt th'end of this irresolution. But now 'tis very needful that I draw him To speak with her; or else of her Find some discourse to him. Whilst yet his mind Hangs wavering, every little moment turns it. Pam. Who is't talks hereabout? Mysis well met. Mys. Pamphilus and you. Pam. How does my dearest? Mys. How does she? marry sir in pangs of travail: And many troublous thoughts come in her mind About this day, once purposed for your wedding. She further doubts, lest you may mind to leave her. Pam. May I be thought to mind a thing so foul? And through my fault suffer mine own dear soul To be abused? trusting her heart, her life To me? whom I have made my dearest wife? May I permit her chaste well trained mind Enforced by foul want to change it kind? No, I will never do it. Mys. If it lay In you, I need not fear: but how you may Be forced by your Father, is the doubt. Pam. What Mysis dost thou think me such a love? So ingrateful further? so inhuman, bestial? That nor acquaintance, love, or shame, at all May move or prompt me to keep plighted faith? Mys. One thing I know, that she deserved hath That you should mind her. Pam. Should mind her Mysis? even now the very latest words of Chrysis Touching Glycerium, rest imprinted here; Here at my heart. Her last hour drawing near, She called for me: I came to her: all you Voided the room: being alone we two She thus began. Kind Pamphilus you see glycerium's youth and beauty; verily Two weak unsafe guards (as yourself perceive) To keep her chaste, guard the small stock I leave. Wherefore by this right hand I crave of thee, By thy good nature, thy fidelity: I adjure thee by her here unfriendedness Thou wouldst not leave her: do not part from her. If as a brother I thee still respected, If she of all men hath thee best affected, As she in all things sought thy full contentment In true observance, due obedience. I leave thee as a friend, a guardian, Father, A husband to her. All the little wealth I leave behind, I trust to thy disposing. Then her hand taking, in my hand she clasped it; And forthwith died. I then there received her; Received will keep. Mys. Indeed sir I hope so. Pam. But why dost now come from her? Mys. I am sent To fetch the Midwife. Pam. Oh, I prithee hasten. And hear you? see you mention not a word About the marriage: lest it may perhaps Add to her weakness. Mys. I do mind it sir. Exeunt Pamphilus and Mysis several ways. Act. 2. Scen. 1. Enter Charinus and Byrrhia his man. Cha WHat sayst thou Byrrhia? must she then today Be married unto Pamphilus? Byrr. Yes sir. Chae. How dost thou know it? Byr. But e'en very now Davus so told me in the Marketplace. Cha. Accursed, wretched me! how hitherto My thoughts have waited upon hope and fear? But hope now being fled, my fainting spirits Wasted with care, yield to confusion. Byr. Pray, for God's love Charinus, since that things Cannot be as you would, seek to desire What you may compass. Cha. There is nothing else In all the world I wish, but Philumen. Byr. But how much better were it, to endeavour To unlodge this idle love out of your heart, Then thus to talk of that which adds more fuel To this your bootless vain affection? Enter Pamphilus walking in a dump. Cha. All men in health can easily prescribe To the sick patient good directions. If thou wert in my case thy mind would alter. Byr. Well sir then do your pleasure. Cha. But lo yonder Where Pamphilus is. I do mean to venture All trials yet, ere I do fully perish. Byr. What means he now to do? Cha. I will request, Beseech him, open to him all my love. I hope I may obtain of him at least, For some few days to put the wedding of. I trust in th'Interim somewhat may be done. Byr. That somewhat is just nothing. Cha. Byrrhia, What think'st thou of it? shall I go to him? Byr. What else? if he will yield to nothing, yet Let him suspect, you have good mind to horn him If he shall marry her. Cha. Away lience varlet, With this thy lewd suspicion. Pam. Charinus, God save you. Cha. And you also Pamphilus. I was a coming to you, with desire To crave hope, help, health, counsel at your hands. Pam. Troth I have neither place for counsel left, Nor means to help. but what's the matter man? Cha. Are you today to marry? Pam. So they say. Cha. If you do Pamphilus, I can assure you, This is the last day you shall ever see me. Pam. How so? Cha. I shame to tell it, Birrhia prithee Declare the matter to him. Byr. Yes, I will. Pam. What is it? Byr. Sir, he loves your wife that shall be. Pam. Troth he and I are of two several minds: I can assure thee. Prithee harken hither Charinus; hast not had to do with her More, than thy man here talks of. Cha. Pamphilus, No o'my troth. I am. Oh, how I wish thou hadst. Cha. Now I entreat thee by our friendship, love; First that you would not marry her at all. Pam. I'll (what I can) avoid it. Cha. If't full so, You cannot shun it, or do else affect it— Pam. Affect it? Cha. Yet defer it of awhile, That I may void hence somewhere, and not see't. Pam. Charinus, now hear me. I do not think't At any time a part of honesty, When one deserves nought, to expect for thanks. I'd rather shun this match than thou obtain't. Cha. You put new life into me. Pam. If thou canst now, Or this this thy man here; work, invent, fashion, Take all the course you can to make her thine: I will find means, that mine she shall not be. Enter Dauus. Cha. I have enough. Pam. And in good time I see Danus, whose counsel I rely upon. Cha. But thou dull head canst nothing cast about Worth knowing. Can you leave us? Byr. Yes, and gladly. Exit Byrrhia. Scen. 2. Dau. GOod God! what good news bring I? But where●row may I find Pamphilus out? To end his fears, and fill his heart with comfort. Cha. He is jocund, at what I know not. Pam. Tut, man, 'tis, nothing. The mischief now afoot, he yet not hears of. Dau. Who if he have heard of this prepared wedding— Cha. Do you not hear him? Dau. I guess verily Hunts all the town over for me, like a madman. But where shall I look for him? to what place First bend my course? Cha Why speak you not unto him? Dau. I'll get me hence, and seek him. Pam. Davus, stay: Come hither. Dau. Who is't calls? Oh Pamphilus, I sought you: you here too Charinus? brave. Both in the nick. You're the men, I looked for. Pam. Oh Davus I me undone. Dau. Tut, list to me. Cha. I am for ever lost. Dau. Your fear I know. Pam. My life now lies at stake. Dau. Yours I know too. Pam. I must be married. Dau. That I also know. Pam. ay, but this very day. Dau. You weary me With news, that I am perfect in already. You fear to have her; you to miss her. Cha. Thou'st it. Pam. I that's the point. Dau. Well, and I say the point Has then no danger in it. Observe me. Pam. For God's sake rid me quickly of this fear. Dau. Lo, I fice thee. Chremis now's not minded To trouble you with a wife. Pam. How dost know it? Dau. Your Father took me by the sleeve e'en now, And told me this day he would marry you: Adding much more, which now's no time to talk on. Presently hastening to acquaint you with it, I ran to the Marketplace: there missing you I got to a high raised ground, and round about Looked to espy you; could not. Then by chance I saw Charinus servant, Birrhia: Of him I asked, he said he had not seen you: It vexed me: still I cast what I should do. Returning thence, a certain jealousy By circumstances bred came in my mind. Umph! here's small roast; the old man sad, a wedding? It scarce hangs well together. Pam. Whereto this? Dau. I buy me straight to hremes; thither come, I note a silent stillness at the door. Now, this gave me good heart. Cha. Well said, go on. Dau. Somewhile I there continue: all that while I saw no creature passing out or in; No matron there; no decking of the house; No stir; I nearer came, and peeped in. Pam. I know they are good conjectures. Dau. Do such things Think you agree unto a nuptial day? Pam. In troth I think not Davus. Dau. Do you say, think? You construe things not well: the case is plain. Besides, thence going I met Chremes servant With herbs and small sprats for the old man's supper. Cha. Davus, through thee I am now rid of care. Dau. Nay of my faith not so. Cha. Why man prithee? For thou concludest, he will not give her him. Dau. Conceited pate! as if it therefore followed, If he not have her, you must marry her. Unless you looked to't, make your suit, and means T'her father's friends, you may hap hop wifeless. Cha. Thou promptst me well; I'll go about it straight. Though ought this hope have failed me: fare ye well. Exit Charinus. Scen. 3. Pam. WHat means my father then? Why doubles he? Dau. I'll tell you. If he now should chafe at you, Cause Chremes will not let you have his daughter, Himself may see he plainly injured you: If he should press you on, before he knew How your mind stood inclined to the match. But if you shall stiffly deny to wed her; Then he will justly lay the blame on you: Then shall we have a coil on't. Pam. What wouldst have me To undergo this marriage? Dau. Pamphilus, He is your Father: and it will be hard T'oppose him: this your sweet heart too (you know) Is friendless here. he'll find cause easily To thrust her out o'th' town. Pam. Out o'th' town man? Dau. And speedily too. Pam. Counsel me then Davus. What I should do. Dau. Tell him you'll marry her. Pam. How? Dau. What's the matter? Pam. Should I tell him so? Dau. Why not? Pam. I ne'er will do't. Dau. Deny me not. Pam. Persuade me not. Dau. Note, what hence will follow. Pam. To be shut out from her, mewed up to this. Dau. No, no such thing. I guess your father thus Will say to you: my purpose Pamphilus Is that this day you wed: then answer you, Sir, I am ready: pray you tell me now For what cause can he chide you? by this means His settled plots you shall disorder clean: yourself yet run no hazard; for the thought Is groundless, vain, that Chremes may be wrought To give his daughter: nor do you let fall Your course, lest he his purpose should recall. Tell you your Father that you like the Bride: That, when he would, he have no cause to chide. And for the dangerous passage that you fear; I'll steer your course, and waft you over clear. No man will give his daughter as a wife To one discovered of your wanton life. he'll with some poor man rather seek to place her, Then suffer you to injure or disgrace her. But if your father see you quiet take This his command, you shall him reckless make. At leisure he'll seek out some other wife, Mean time your father's death may end the strife Or some like good chance happen. Pam. Thinkst thou so? Dau. There is no doubt i'th' world on't. Pam. Take you heed to what you lead me. Dau. Will you sir be quiet? Pam. I'll tell my father as thou bidst me: but There must be care had, he by no means know she's with child by me; for I have promised To give it breeding. Dau. Oh bold enterprise! Pam. She begged this promise of me, as assurance That I would not forsake her. Enter Simo. Dau. I'll look to't. Your Father's here: let him not note you sad. Scen. 4. Sim. I Come to observe their carriage, note their plots. Dau. He thinks now surely, you'll refuse to marry: And comes from some lone place premeditate, Thinking to puzzle you with a set speech: Therefore collect yourself. Pam. Well, as I can. Dau. In this thing Pamphilus you shall take my word, You shall not now change two cross syllables, If you but say, you ready are to marry. Scen. 5. Enter Byrrhia listening the encounter between Simo and his Son. Byr. MY Master willed me (all things else set of) Pamphilus watch: & learn what course he takes About the Bride. This caused me dog him hither: And lo, where he is with Davus. To my task. Sim. I see 'em both together. Dau. Now sir look to't. Sim. Pamphilus. Dau. Look you back as on the sudden. Pam. Oh, you my father? Dau. ay, that's well carried. Sim. As I late told thee, 'tis my purpose Son That thou this day be married. Dau. Now I fear His answer on our side. Pam. Sir, or in this Or in what else I wait upon your pleasure. Byr. Ha! Dau. Mute. Byr. What said he? Sim. Thou dost now my Son As well becomes thee, when so graciously Thou yield'st to what I crave. Dau. Was I not right? Byr. My Master (as I hear) hath lost his wife. Sim. Get you now in that when the time requires, We be not driven to stay for you. Pam. Yes sir. Exit Pamphilus. Byr. That in nothing one man may trust another! It is an old said saying, and as common, All to themselves wish best. myself have seen The maiden, and remember her a fair one. Which makes me better bear with Pamphilus, If he himself had rather nightly bed her, Then let my Master. I'll bear back this news: That he may pay me well, for my ill tidings. Exit Byrrhia. Scen. 6. Dau. MY Master thinks now I have some device A foot: and that, for that end I stay here. Sim. What is't, thou talkest Davus? Dau. e'en just sir. Sim. What, nothing? ha? Dau. Indeed sir nothing, I. Sim. I sure did look to hear some news from thee. Dau. I know 'tis chanced quite besides his aim: That's it which nettles him. Sim. Is't possible I get thee tell me a truth? Dau. Most readily. Sim. does this same wedding grieve him any thing, By reason of the acquaintance that he holds With yonder stranger? Dau. Truly I think not. Or if it do, the matter of his trouble Will be at most two or three days' disquiet: (Conceive you sir?) then it will clearly vanish. For with himself h'as ta'en a due account, And set all clear that way. Sim. I do commend him. Dau. Whilst he had leave, & his green youth did suffer't He wenched a little; but yet privately: He ever had a care to keep his name Untouched; as did become a wise young man. Now marriage fits, he frames his mind that way. Sim. And yet methought he appeared somewhat sad. Dau. Nothing about this business; but there's cause That makes him somewhat angry with you. Sim. What? Dau. A trifle. Sim. What is't? Dau. Nothing. Sim. Tell me what? Dau. He says you're overniggardish in Cost. Sim. Who, I? Dau. That you have scarce disbursed ten groats In your provision for his wedding supper: What (says he) is this like a son's nuptials Whom chiefly of my fellow bachelors May I invite (quoth he) to such a banquet? And to speak that which may be said herein; Intruth you are too too sparing, I lik't not. Sim. Hold your tongue. Dau. I have galled him. Sim. I will see That all shall be well carried. What means this? What is't this old fox-hunt doth hammer on? If there be any knavery, his pare forged it. Exeunt Simo and Dauus. Act. 3. Scen. 1. Enter Lesbia, the Midwife and Mysis glycerium's pity at one door, Simo and Dauus at another. Mys. ay, Indeed Lesbia you have said aright: A woman hardly finds a faithful lover. Sim. Belongs this maid to th' Andrian here? Dau. Yes sir. Mys. But this kind Pamphilus Sim. What is't she says? Mys. Hath given her full assurance— Sim. Out alas! Dau. Would either he were dease now or she dumb. Mys. That son or daughter, he will foster it. Sim. Oh jupiter! what news is this I hear? All is lost utterly; if she speak truth. Lesb. You do describe a young man honest natured. Mys. Oh, the best natured gentleman— but pray, Follow me in, for fear she stay for you. Les. Yes I follow. Dau. What help for this now, trow? Exet Lesbya and Mysis. Sim. What, is he mad? a loose land loping strumpet? Oh! I have it: old dullhead (as I was) I fierce at length could hit on't. Dau. What has he hit on, says he? Sim. This first knavish practice Of my man here is now thus put upon me: She is to be in child birth, to flight Chremes. Glycerium within doors. juno, Lucina help; save me, I pray thee. Sim. Horda such speed? ha, ha, ridiculous As soon as are she heard me at the door, The throws come on: scarce fitly a'my word, You rank and place your times scarce fitly Davus. Dau. ay sir? Sim. Or have your Actors missed their Cues? Dau. I know not what you mean, sir. Sim. If this fellow Had set upon me, being unprovided In a true marriage oh, what pageants Would he have played me? Let him now make sure His own adventure; smsith port secure. Scen. 2. Enter Lesbia speaking to the Nurse within doors. Lesb. AS yet Archillis I do note in her All usual matters, and good signs of health First see her cleansed, and then deliver her That drink, in measure as I gave in charge: I'll be here straight again: as God shall help me. She hath brought Pamphilus a goodly boy. If it please God, may it live to be a man: Seeing the father is of disposition So honest; and makes conscience to wrong This good young woman. Exit Lesbia. Sim. Who did ever know thee That would not swear, this thy contriving now? Dau. Pray, what? Sim. She cannot in the house give order, For what is needful to the childbed woman: But coming forth a doors, proclaims i'th' street Her mind to them within: what? what sir Davus Slight you me so? or deemest me now at length Such a fine easy property, thou mayst So plainly pass thy juggling tricks upon me? At least yet, it was circumspectly carried; And showed your awe, if 'twere discovered. Dau. Troth his own cunning cheats him now; not I. Sim. Did I not forewarn thee? threaten further If thou shouldst dare attempt this? hast thou yet Stood in fear of't? hath it in aught prevailed? Thinkest thou I do believe this woman here Hath had a child now by my Pamphilus? Dau. I now find his mistaking, know my course. Sim. Why speak'st thou not? Dau. What talk you of your thinking? As if you'd had no notice of the matter? Sim. I notice? Dau. Why good sir, tell me I pray Found you of yourself that this was counter? Sim. I'm flouted. Dau. Come, come, it has been told you: How else a God's name could you dream of it? Sim. How? 'cause I well did know thy qualities. Dau. You think it then a thing of my direction. Sim. ay, and I know 'tis. Dau. Truly sir I see You throughly do not know me. Sim. Not I, thee? Dau. But when I seek to tell you any thing, You straight suppose, I put some trick upon you. Sim. 'tis false. Dau. So that I dare scarce speak to you. Sim. This one thing I am sure on; here's no child born. Dau. Are you so sure? yet sir notwithstanding They straight will lay a child before your door. I tell you on't aforehand, for your knowledge: lest you should say hereafter, Davus plots And cunning managed all. I very fain Would work myself out of your jealousy. Sim. How know'st it? Dau. I have heard so and believe it. Sim. They are many & those grounded circumstances, Which my conjectures build on. Near before Named she herself with child by Pamphilus; And that is false, unless my judgement err: But seeing now a wedding is preparing, A midwife straight is sent for, by the maid, Who was to bring a young borne child with her. Dau. Unless you see a child, the wedding still Stands fairly. Sim. ay but, sirrah tell me this, When thou hadst found they plotted this among them, her? Why told you not it straight to Pamphilus? Dau. Pray, but myself then who hath drawn him from We know how fondly he did dote upon her: Now he desires a wife to live withal. In fine, trust me with this whole business: Yet pursue you, to make the marriage up; And I do hope the Gods will further it. Sim. Nay, get you in; there see you stay my coming: And have such things as need in readiness. Exit Dauus He hath not drawn me yet to give full credit To this he says; nor to conclude all true. But I regard it little: the main thing I rest on, is the promise of my Son. I'll now go speak with Chremes, and desire He would bestow his daughter: that obtained, Why should I linger? and not now this day Finish the match afoot? doubtless my Son Will stand t'his word: if not, what hinders me Enter Chremes. But I may force him? and in good time see Where Chremes is, Chremes good time of day. Scen. 3. Chr. OH! you are the man I sought for. Sim. And I you. Chr. You're come as I would wish: a many men Have pressed unto me; who report as heard From you, that on this very day your Son Should wed my daughter. Now I come to see Whether or you or they be from their wits? Sim. Pray list a while, and I will satisfy This doubt: and withal acquaint you further What suit I have unto you. Chr. I attend. Say what you please. Sim. Chremes I request you For love of God; and for the unfeigned friendship Which in our youth begun along together Hath grown up with our years; by the respect You bear your only child; for my son's cause Chief power of whose preserving lies in you, Lend me your furtherance in this business, That the match this day meant may so go on. Chr. Oh! I pray crave it not, as if 't were fit I should in this thing listen to your suit? Think you me altered from the man I was, When late I made you promise? if 't may be For both our welfares, take my daughter to you But if hereby more harm then good will follow To either of us by it, than I pray Cast for the common good: as if my daughter Were yours, I father to your Pamphilus. Sim. Nay, that's my meaning Chremes: and I do Crave nothing of you but upon such terms: Nor would I ask it of you, if the case itself did not require it. Chr. Why, how is't? Sim. There's jar between Glycerium and my son. Chr. I hear. Sim. So great, I hope't will sunder them. Chr. A tale. Sim. In very deed 'tis so Chr. Indeed It will just so (as I shall tell thee) prove; The jars of lovers give fresh life to love. Sim. ay, but I pray you let us prevent that, Whilst his love's flame is smothered by abuse: Before this harlots lewd designs, false tears Reduce his sickly mind to passion, Let's marry 'em. Chremes I have good hope, Fair wedlock and a wife's experienced love Will easily pluck him out of these feared ills. Chr. You think so: but I deem't impossible That either they will always live together, Or I may endure their jarring. Sim. How do you know, Unless you make a trial? Chr. But 'twere hard For me to make such trial in my child. Sim. Why, all the inconvenience which can happen Should the worst fall (which I pray God forbid) Were at the most a separation. In counterpoise now weigh the benefits That will ensue, if my son prove reclaimed: First you restore t' your friend his son: yourself Gain a fast son in law: your child a husband. Chr. Why, if you think it so commodious, For my part I will be no hindrance to't. Sim. I justly always held you my best friend. Chr. But as to that you said. Sim. What? Chr. Marry how know you There's now debate between 'em. Sim. Davus self (who is their Counsels inward secretary) So told me; and withal advised me further To haste the marriage with all speed I could. Think you he would do thus, but that he knows. My son desires it likewise? you yourself Shall heat him. Ho there, one call Davus forth. Enter Dauus. But lo, I see him coming out a doors. Scen. 4. Dau. I Was a coming to you. Sim. What's the matter? Dau. Why is the bride not sent for? it grows late. Sim. Do you now hear him? I will tell thee Davus, I lately had thee in some jealousy; That thou didst take the course most servants hold, By seeking to delude me in the matter. Of Pamphilus wanton loving. Dau. Who, I sit? Sim. I thought so: and for that I kept from you A secret, I'll now utter. Dau. What was that? Sim. I'll tell thee; for I almost now do trust thee. Dau. At length you find what servant you have of me. Sim. This was not to have been a marriage Dau. What, no. Sim. But I therefore counterfeited, That I might feel your minds. Dau. What is't you say? Sim. just as thou hear'st. Dau. La ye; I could never, Think such a matter: oh fine cunning plot? Sim. List this; when hence I bade thee get thee in, Chremes came fitly to me. Dau. Are we trow Not lost for ever? Sim. I told all to him Thou late toldst me. Dau. What hear I? Sim. Begged of him, And scarce at length won him to give his daughter. Dau. I am undone. Sim. What sayst? Dau. Excellently done. Sim. Now he's not backward. Chre. I'll straight get me home, And leave word all be had in readiness! Thence give you notice. Sim. Now I prithee Davus, Exit Chremes Since thou alone hast wrought this marriage for us— Dau. Yes sure, I was th'only worker. Sim. Do now Endeavour further to reclaim my son. Dau. Yes truly, I will look to't carefully. Sim. Thou mayst now do it, whilst his mind is vexed. Dau. Pray take no Care. Sim. Look to't then: But where now is he himself? Dau. 'tis mar'le but he's at home. Sim. I'll too him then, and to himself deliver All I told thee. Dau. I am now just nothing. Exit Simo. What hinders, but I fairly take my way Directly to the mill, and fall a grinding? entreaty may do nothing; I have drawn All things to such confusion: first deceived My Master: then have headlong thrust his son Upon a marriage, that he looked not for: And clean against his will: and this today To be made up, by my alone procurement. Pray mark th'end of cunning: had I sat still, No evil in the world had happened. Enter Pamphilus. And see where he is. I am a mere dead man. Would I had any means to break my neck now. Scen. 5. Pam. WHere is the villain has undone me? Dau. I Am a plain castaway. Pam. But I confess 'tis justly fallen upon me; since I am So idle, vain, and inconsiderate: Ought I to trust my whole state to a slave; A prating slave? I have my folly's hire: But unrevenged he ne'er shall scape with it. Dau. I'll ne'er doubt tempest, if I scape this storm. Pam. But now what answer shall I make my father? Shall I deny to marry, who but now Consented to it? with what impudence May I dare do it? neither with myself Know I what course to take. Dau. Troth nor I, neither But I am canvassing my brains about it. I'll tell him I'll forthwith find out some means A little to put off his threatened vengeance. Pam. Oh— Dau. I'm spied. Pam. Oh, you sir, honest fellow Come nearer: what sayst to me? do you see now How I am puzzled through your goodly counsel? Dau. I'll presently make all clear. Pam. Thou make clear? Dau. Pamphilus indeed I will. Pam. ay, as erewhile. Dau. Nay, I hope better Pam. Trust thee pillory? Or thou make good a case perplexed, lost? See what a suresby I have trusted too; Who from a quiet state I late stood in, This day hast thrust me on a marriage: Did I not tell thee it would thus fall out? Dau. You did. Pam. What hast then deserved Dau. Hanging. A little yet let me collect myself. I'll straight find out some help. Pam. Oh me accurst: Why want I time to plague thee as I would? This scarce will serve my danger to prevent, Permits me not pursue thy punishment. Exeunt Pamphilus and Dauus. Act. 4. Scen. 1. Enter Charinus at one door; Pamphilus and Dauus at another. Cha. MAy't be believed? or may it once be talked on? That any should be so self-willed perverse, As to take pleasure in another's harms? Or think his own gain sweeter, if procured By others' disadvantage? oh good God! Is this a brood of men? Men let them be; Worst are they of the generation. They show a little tricksy modesty, Not to deny a craved courtesy: But when performance comes, they then declare (Nature will show itself) what men they are. They are ashamed a little, but in trial Their temper bursteth forth to flat denial. Then shall you hear their shameless Oratory— Pray who are you? are what at least to me. Why yield my love to you? good sir attend, I am unto myself the nearest friend. Touch them with faith and troth, they blush no whit: So that when no constraint enforceth it, They make some scruple; when it comes to th' pinch, Then at the proof your hollow friend doth flinch. But what's my best course? shall I to him straight, And with him this his wrong expostulate? And ply him with harsh terms? but some may say, What good shall I procure myself that way? Yes much: I shall both chafe him, and give ease To my grieved heart. Pam. Charinus, less God please To succour us, I have both thee and me Against my will undone unwarily. Cha. Unwarily: is that word now thought on? You've broke your promisd faith. Pam. As how, I pray? Cha. Seek you again with fair words to abuse me? Pam. What means this? Cha. After I said I loved her, You must needs like her too. Oh me accurst, That scantled out your dealing by mine own! Pam. You are mistaken. Cha. Seemed your content not full, Unless you fooled, and with false hope trained on A wretched lover? much good do ye; take her. Pam. I take her? oh I perceive thou know'st not In what a gulf of misery I am plunged: What peck of troubles this my torturer Hath brought me to, by harkening to his counsel. Cha. No mar'le: he takes his precedent from you. Pam. You would not say this, if you fully knew Or me, or her I've set my fancy on. Cha. Yes, I do know; you were at hot high words Late with your father; and have angered him, Because he cannot make you marry her. Pam. Nay, which discovers thou less know'st my grief, This marriage never was prepared for me: Nor did now any force me to a wife. Cha. I know't your own will forced you. Pam. Tarry, yet thou know'st not all. Cha. I know thou'st marry her. Pam. Why do you thus torment me? hear but this He never ceased to be urgent on me, That I should tell my father I would marry: To entreat, persuade, till he had drawn me to it. Cha. What man did this. Pam. This Davus. Cha. Davus? Pam. Davus brings all things out of square. Cha. What the inducement? Pam. I nothing know, except this one thing only, That I well see the Gods are much displeased With me, for listening to him. Cha Did you thus Davus? Dau. I did. Cha. Ha, what fairest thou caitiff? The gods give thee a death fitting thy doings. Sir than, but tell me; say that all his foes Had laid their heads together for a plot To yoke him to a wife, what stratagem Could they have framed more speeding than this was? Dau. I am deceived, but faint not. Cha. ay, I know't. Dau. It thrived not this way, we'll attempt some other. Unless you judge because at first we sped not, There's no means jest us to salve up the mischief. Pam. Nay more, I well believe if thou watch for it, Of one thou'lt make me out a double marriage. Dau. I (Pamphilus) by reason of my bondage Owe you thus much: to do, go, night and day To endeavour all I may, with my life's hazard, For your advantage: it is yet your part To bear with me, if things come cross my hopes: My plots fail; yet I use all carefulness: yourself else frame things wiseher, discharge me. Pam. I crave thou leave me in that state thou foundst me; Dau. I will. Pam. But't must be straight. Dau. How now! hist, stay. glycerium's door did creak. Pam. That's nought to thee. Dau. I am a forging. Pam. How, is't now to forge. Dau. But I will give't you fashioned presently. Scen. 2. Enter Mysis. Mys. WHere ere he be, I'll find your Pamphilus And bring him with me straight; meanwhile good heart vex not yourself. Pam. Mysis? Mys. What's the matter? Oh, was't you Pamphilus? you are well met. Pam. What news? Mys. My Mistress prays you of all love To come to her: she longs to speak with you. Pam. I am a forlorn wretch: the mischief spreads. That she and I should both be thus perplexed By means of thee? for I am therefore sent for Because she hears my wedding is prepared. Cha. From which how easily had you now been quiet, Had he been quiet? Dau. Yes, so, go on: If of himself he be not vexed enough, Urge him on further. Mys. I indeed 'tis that Does now afflict her. Pam. Mysis, I do swear By all the Gods unto thee, I will never Forsake her: no, though I were sure thereby To undergo the whole world's enmity. I did desire her; have obtained her; see That we both jump in minds, and quality. Farewell to all that seek us two to sever: But death none takes her from me. Cha. I recover Pam. I do desire (if't may be so borne up) My father should not think I am the cause The marriage holds not: if that cannot be, I'll take the next course: that he may perceive I cross it. What kind of man dost think me. Cha. Faith every way as wretched as myself. Dau. I cast for help. Cha. ay, thou hast a good heart. Dau. And will effect it for you. Pam. 'T must be now. Dau. Why, I ha''t now. Cha. What is it? Dau. You mistake; It is for him, not you. Cha. I am content. Pam. Say, what wilt do? Dau. I have scarce day enough To finish it I fear: and think me not At leisure therefore now, to tell you it. But get y'hence both; you, now but hinder me. Pam. I'll visit her here. Dau. And you, whither you? Exit Pamphilus. Cha. Wilt thou I tell thee truth? Dau. Nay see, he makes a prologue to a tale. Cha. What dost for me? Dau. Oh impudent! is't not enough I give thee Some hours; by putting off his marriage? Cha. Yet Davus— Dau. Well, what? Cha. That I may have her.— Dau. Ridiculous! Cha. Yet if thou canst do aught— Come home to me. Dau. To what end should I come? I nothing have to help thee. Cha. ay but if— Dau. Well, I will come. Cha. If thou canst think of aught I'll be at home. Exit Charinus. Dau. Mysis, while I go hence Stay here a little for me. Mys. To what end? Dau. 'tis needful now, thou do so. Mys. Make haste then. Dau. I will be here straightway again with thee. Exit Dauus. Scen. 3. Mys. THat no one holdeth any thing in certain? Your help good Gods! I thought this Pamphilus Had been my Mistress's firm, chiefest good; Took him to be her friend, her lover, husband; Ready at all essays to stand to her: And yet what grief sustains she now through him? Hence sure more ill she reaps then good from him. But here comes Davus. Enter Dauus. What's that prithee friend? the child? Whither dost bear it? Scen. 4. Dau. MYsis, now I need thy readiest memory and wit In this I go about. Mys. What art to do? Dau. Take the child from me straight, & lay it down Before our door. Mys. What on the bare ground pray? Dau. Take a few strewings from the altar there— And lay 'em under. Mys. Why dost not thou thyself? Dau. That if perchance my Master urge my oath 'twas not my doing, I may safely swear it. Mys. I understand you: but pray tell me whence This now new tender conscience comes upon thee? Dau. Stir you more quick; that you may further know What 'tis I have in hand. Oh jupiter! Enter Chremes. Mys. What? Dau. The father of the bride is come on us. leave the course which I at first intended. Mys. I know not what you talk on? Dau. myself too Will make as if I came from the right hand. Have you a care now as occasion serves You mark my talk, and suit your words to mine. Mys. I understand nothing you go about: But if in any thing you need my help Or see more than myself, I here will stay, That I may be no hindrance in your way. Exit Dauus. Scen. 5. Chr. Having prepared all in readiness Was needful to my daughter's marriage, I now return to will 'em send for her. But what is here? so help me God, a child! Woman, laid you this child here? Mys. Where is he? Chr. Dost not answer me? Mys. Woes me, out of sight. Alas, Davus has left me: and is gone. Enter Dauus. Dau. Faith of the Gods! What coil's yond at the Market? What throng of wranglers brawl there? and beside Corn bears excessive price. I know not now What other words to use. Mys. For God's sake man Why left you me alone here? Dau. Hoida what Denice is this? you Mysis, whence this child? Or who here laid it? Mys. Are you in your wits, To ask me that? Dau. Of whom else should I ask, That see none else here? Chr. I mar'le whence it is. Dau. wost tell me. Mys. Au! Dau. Come here, o'my right side. Mys. thouart mad did not yourself? Dau. Look thou beware Thou utter not a word, but what I ask thee. Mys. D'ye threaten me? Dau. From whence is it? speak out. Mys. From you. Dau. Ha, ha, he, is't news, if women Of your condition do grow impudent? Chr. This maid belongs to th' Andrian, as I think. Dau. Seem we such fitting persons to you, trow That you should play on us? Chr. I came in time. Dau. Therefore with speed take you the child away Ilence from our door: yet stay, see thou stir not One inch out of this place. Mys. The Gods confound thee That me poor woman frightest thus. Dau. Do I speak to thee, or not? Mys. What would you? Dau. Asked thou still? Say, tell me whose child 'tis thou hast laid here? Mys. Do not you know? Dau. Talk not of what I know, But tell me that I ask. Mys. 'tis of your house Dau. Whose, of us? Mys. Pamphilus. Dau. Ha, what, Pamphilus? Mys. Is't not? Chr. I always rightly shunned this match. Dau. Oh notable vile practice! Mys. Why exclaim'st thou? Dau. Which child did not myself see yesternight Brought late to you? Mys. Oh most audacious fellow Dau. 'tis truth, I saw Canthara thick stuffed out. Mys. I thank the Gods yet, that some City wives Were present at the labour. Dau. She not knows Him (I assure thee) for whose cause she plots this. She thinks if Chremes see a child laid here, he'll not bestow his daughter: yes of truth, For this the rather. Chr. Faith but he will not though. Dau. Now therefore, for thy knowledge, take it hence Or I will tumble it in the high way; And further lay thee by it in the kennel. Mys. Thou certainly art drunk. Dau. One cunning prank Treads on another's he'll. I hear it whispered She's a freeborn Athenian. Chre. Ha! Dau. And that He shall be forced by law to marry her. Mys. Why sir I pray you, is she not freeborn? Chr. I had almost unawares jested myself Into a dangerous mischief. Dau. Who talks here? Oh Chremes you are come in happy time. Pray listen sir— Chr. I have heard all already. Dau. How all say you? Chr. ay, from the beginning all. Dau. Have you pray heard it? see their villainies! 'tis fit she were hence hurried to the rack. This is the man I talked of: do not think You play your tricks on Davus. Mys. Oh wretched me! Indeed (good old Sir) I have spoke no falsehood. Chr. I know all to the full: but is your Master Simo within? Dau. Yes Sir. Exit Chremes. Mys. Rogue hand me not. Troth if Glycerium know not of all this— Dau. Attend you fool, thou know'st not what is done: This the Bride's father: by no other means Could he be made to know what we would have him. Mys. Why then you should have told me on't. Dau. Dost think There no great difference, when a thing is carried The natural way, and when premeditate. Scen. 6. Enter Crits. Crit. 'tIs told me Chrysis dwelled in this same street: Who rather chose here lewdly to grow rich, Then in her Country honestly live poor: She dead, the Law hath cast her state on me. But now I see some I may question: God save you. Mys. Oh good God whom do I see? Is not this Crito, Chrisis' cousin German? 'tis he. Crit. Oh Mysis! you are well met. Mys. The Gods Prosper you Crito. Crit. Chrysis then is— well? Mys. Yes truly she has left us, to th'wide world. Crit. And you, what shift d'ye make? any thing well? Mys. We? faith e'en according to the proverb; Live as we can, since cannot as we would. Crit. Glycerium— what, hath she yet sound her parents? Mys. I would she had. Crit. What not yet? I came hither In an unlucky hour: for had I known it I sure would ne'er have stirred a soot this way. She always was both said and deemed her sister And holds all that was hers: now for me their To follow law suits being here a stranger, How easy and commodious 'tmay be Rife precedents of other men do warn me. Besides, I judge by this she has got herself Some friend and patron: for when she came thence She had well-near attained to ripe years' Men will cry out I am a sycophant, A beggar laying claim to others right: Withal, myself list not impoverish her: Mys. Good Crito, you still hood your ancient course. Crit. Bring me unto her, since I am come hither, I may at least yet see her. Mys. Yes I will. Dau I'll follow yet the old man shall not see me. Mysis and Crito enter glycerium's house and Davus follows them. Act. 5. Scen. 1. Enter Chremes and Simo out of Simoes' house. Chr. SImo enough, I have enough tried your friend ship: Ventured sufficient hazard, pray now leave Entreating. Whilst I seek to pleasure you I almost trifled my child's life away. Sim. Nay, but I earnestly beg and crave Chremes, This your good turn now late begun in words You would in deeds make up. Chr Note how unjust You grow, through earnestness to work your aims: You nor consider bounds in courtesies, Nor yet what 'tis you crame: for if you did, you'd cease to load me with these injuries. Sim. What injuries? Chr. Oh, do you question them? You wrought me to bestow my only child To one entangled in a stranger's love: A wild young youth abhorring marriage: To most sure discord, marriage as insure; That by her grief and sorrow I might physic Your riotous son: this y'obtainedobtain'd: I went on, Whilst things permitted: now that the case not brooks it, You must brook my denial. 'tis affirmed This stranger is fice borne; hath a child by him: Leave troubling us. Sim. By all the Gods I beg You would not bend your mind to trust these people, Whose best advantage 'tis, to make him worst. These things are only feigned and fashioned To dash the wedding: take away the cause Moves them to this, they'll straight weigh leave contriving. Chr. You're wide: myself saw a maid scolding here With Davus. Sim. I know't. Chr. ay but this was done In good sad earnest; neither of them both Knowing that I was near. Sim. I do believe it And Davus late told me it would be so. I know not how I did forget to tell you, As I had meant. Scen. 2. Enter. Dauus out of glycerium's house. Dau. I Will you now rest quiet— Chr. See, here's Davus. Sim. Whence comes he? Dau. Through my furtherance and this guests. Sim. What new mischief? Dau. Man, time, coming fitter, I never saw. Sim. Who is't, the rogue so praises? Dau. All's now secure. Sim. Cease I to speak to him? Dau My Master! what's my course? Dau. Oh Simo, oh our Chremes, All things are now in readiness within. Sim. Thou'st looked too 't well. Dau. When you please, send for her. Sim. 'tis very well; but that course now here fails us. But may I know, what thou hadst there to do? Dau. I Sir. Sim. ay, Sir. Dau. Me mean you? Sim. Yes, mean thee. Dau. I went in but now— Sim. As if I ask 't thee, when? Dau. Together with your son. Sim. Is my son there? I wretch am set o'th' rack. Didst not hangman Tell me, they were at deadly odds together? Dau. They are. Sim. What does he there then? Chr. He? what thinkst? I warrant railing at her. Dau. Nay but Chremes I'll tell you now of a strange accident. I know not what old man is newly come, Note him, a man both confident and wise, When you shall see him, you'll much value him. A grave austerity rests on his face; And in his words dwell faith. Sim. What news bring'st thou? Dau. No other, than I heard that man report. Sim. And what does he report? Dau. That he does know Glycerium here, a free Athenian borne. Sim. Hoe Dromo, Dromo. Enter Dromo. Sim. Dromo. Dro. What's the matter? Dau. Hear me. Sim. If thou speakest one word more— Dromo. Dau. I do beseech you hear me. Dro. What would you've? Sim. Hoist in this fellow here, hence speedily. Dro. Whom? Sim. Davus. Dau. Why? Sim. For it is my pleasure. Away with him I say. Dau. What have I done? Sim. In with him. Dau. If you shall find I have lied In any thing, then kill me. Sim. I'll hear nothing. I'll straightway put thee into motion. Dau. Though that I said the truth? Sim. Though— see you I'll be kept bound; and hear you, bound all four. I'll show thee, what 'tis to abuse a Master, If I but live this day: and teach the other What 'tis to cross a father. Exit Dromo with Dauus. Chr. Oh, I pray you rage not so much. Sim. Chremes dost not, seeing How unkindly he deals with me, pity me? That I should toil and care for such a son? But Pamphitus you, come you out Pamphilus: Doth any shame possess thee? Scen. 3. Enter Pamphilus. Pam. WHo called me? I am lost, it is my father. Sim. What sayst now? Thou of all— Chr. Oh, rather go to th'point man: And spare ill speaking. Sim. As if any thing Can be spoke ill enough of such a one? But Sirrah say, is your Glycerium now Free borne of Athens? Pam. So they say of her. Sim. Do they say so? Monstrous audaciousness! Considers he his words? grieves at his deeds? Or shows his colour any note of shame? That he should be of such debauched manners, That clear beyond all precedent of freemen, Against the form of law, in opposition Of me his father, he should bend to have her Though 't reach to th'highest pitch of infamy? Pam. Oh me most wretched! Sim. Dost thou now at length Perceive that Pamphilus? that word of old Of old that word then truly fitted thee, When first thou setst thy heart to please thyself; Though at what rate soever compassed. But wherefore do I thus? why yex my soul? Why waste myself away? why do I grieve My old and fainting age with his youth's follies? Shall I endure the penance of his faultings? No, let him have her; ay, God speed him well; Yes, let him keep with her. Pam Oh my father— Sim. Why call'st me father? as if thou hadst need Of me to be thy father? a house, wise, Children are had maugre thy father's will: Fellows are hired shall bear her up freeborn. You've got the mast'tie. Pam. I beseech you father, May I have leave to utter a few words. Sim. What wilt say to me? Chr. Vet hear him Simo. Sim. I hear him: what is't Chremes I should hear him. Chr. Permit him tell you. Sim. Well, tell he: I permit Pam I do confess I love this woman here If it be faulty, I confess that too. Further I yield me up to your full pleasure, Lay any task, any command upon me. Will you I marry that, leave this? I will Endure it as I may. But this one thing I beg of you, that you would not imagine That this old man is by my means brought in Suffer me clear myself, and fetch him hither Into your presence Sim. Fetch him. Pam. Let me pray. Chr. He craves but reason, grant it. Pam. I pray sir. Exit Pamphilus. Sim. Well, I do: I wish Chremes ought be proved, So that I find he does not juggle with me. Chr. Slight accusation in a son's offence Sufficeth for a father. Scen. 4. Enter Crito and Pamphilus. Crit. CEase to entreat. Each of the reasons you have used, persuade me To your request? either your own self cause, Or for it is a truth, or cause I wish All furtherance unto Gl Chr. Do I not see Crito of Andros there? 'tis he. Crito you are here well met: You have been long a stranger here: what chance Hath brought you now to Athens. Crit. An occasion. But is this Simo? Chr. Yes. Sim Ask you for me? D'ye hear sir, is it you that do affirm Glycerium to be free borne of Athens? Crit. Are you one, do deny it? Sim. Is 't e'en so? Come you so well prepared too? Crit. Wherefore? Sim. Dost thou use question? thinkst thou to escape Fairly thus of with 't? seekest thou to work on The easy natures of unguided youth, Perverting our well nurtured children? Winning their hearts with fawning promises. And this, in Athens. Crit. Are you in your wits? Sim. And harlot-loves knit'st up in marriage? Chr. If you knew this man Simo thoroughly, You would not judge so: he is an honest man. Sim. An honest man; to come jump in th'instant Of dosing hands, and ne'er seen here before? Chremes, may such a man be credited? Pam. If I not doubted to displease my father I easily could prompt him to that point. Sim. caviling sycophant— Crit. How? Chr. Forbear Crito; It is his temper. Crit. Let him regard his temper: If he will vent his pleasure upon me He shall be forced to hear what will displease him. Trouble I his matters? or yet care for'em? Cannot you bear your own ills patiently? For my part, it may instantly be known Whether 't be false or true, you heard me say A certain man of Athens, now long since shipwrecked at sea, was cast on Andros Isle; And with him this Glycerium, than a child: He being poor had harbour at the house Of Chrisis, father. Sim. He begins a tale. Chr. Pray give him leave. Crit. Does he disturb me thus? He that entertained him was my kinsman: Of him I then heard, that this shipwrecked man Was an Ithenian. Chr Pray, what was his name? Crit. His name so suddenly? Pha— Pha-nia. Chr. Oh, my heart! Crit. Yes sure, I think 'twas Phania. This I well know, he named himself of Ramnes. Chr. O jupiter! Crit. A many more in Andros Then heard it. Chr. I beseech the Gods, it prove According to my hopes: but pray you Crito, What said he of the child, that 'twas his own? Crit. No. Chr. whose's then? Crit. The daughter of his brother. Chr. 'tis certainly mine own. Crit. What do you say? Sim. What say you? Pam. Pamphilus give heed to this. Sim. Why think you so? Chr. That Phania was my brother. Sim. I knew him well, and know that he was so. Chr. He flying hence to avoid the rage of war, Travailed toward Asia in pursuit of me; And feared withal to leave the child behind: Since whence, now I hear the first news of him. Pam. I scarcely feel myself: my mind's so tossed Twixt fear, and hope, and joy, and wondering, At this so great, so sudden happiness. Sim. In truth I much rejoice, she is found yours. Pam. I do believe you father. Chr. But there rests One scruple yet, which somewhat troubles me. Pa. You are worthy now of hate, with these your scruples Crit. What is 't? Chr. The name agrees not. Crit. She had sure Another being young. Chr. What was it Crito? Canst thou remember? Crit. I am thinking on 't. Pam. Shall I permit his tardy memory To slacken my joy's current, being able Herein to give myself a remedy? No, I will not: hark you hither Chremes; The name you doubt of is Pasibula. Crit. That's it. Chr. 'tis right. Pam. I heard it of herself At lest a thousand times. Sim. I believe Chremes, You think we all joy at it. Chr. As may the Gods Assist me, I do think so. Pam. What rests father? Sim. The case itself now reconcileth us. Pam. Oh my most loving father and you Chromes Change nothing in the wife I now possess? Chr. The cause is just, your father so agreeing. Pam. Thus much— Sim. Yea marry— Chr. Her dowry Pamphilus I make ten talents. Pam. I accept of it. Chr. I'll forthwith see my daughter: Crito, pray Go with me; for I think she knows me not. Sim. Why cause you not your wife be brought to us? Pam. You warn me well, I'll e'en give Davus charge out. Sim. He cannot now effect it. Pam. Pray why so? Sim. Has more and greater charge upon himself. Pam. What? Sim. he's bound. Pam he's not bound rightly father. Sim. No; I did will him be bound otherwise. Pam. Pray order he be loosed. Sim. Well, be it so. Pam. But good sir, haste. Sim. I'll in and see it done. Exit Simo. Pam. Oh happy, oh this prosperous blessed day. Scen. 5. Enter Charinus. Cha. I Come to see how Pampirlus speeds, and lo. Pam. Some man perhaps may think I feed on dreams: But now I please to think all real truth. I on this ground judge the God's lives eternal, Because heir pleasure's certainly their own For I myself have gained immortal state, If with this joy no grief ere intermeddle But who might I now wish especially Here at this time, to tell the tidings to? Enter Dauus. Chae. What joy is that he talks of? Pam. I now see Davus our man: there is no living one, I rather would have had. I know he will? Full truly joy in the true joy I feel. Scen. 6. Dau. Where is this Pamphilus trow? Pam. Davus Dau. Who's that? Pam. 'tis I. Dau. Oh Pamphilus! Pam. Thou knowest not what has befallen me? Dau. True: yet know, what has chanced me. Pam. And so do I. Dau. Why this haps just o'th' fashion, That you my ill luck learn, ere I your good. Pam. Glycerium hath found out her parents. Dau. Good. Cha. How's that? Pam. Her father our chief friend. Dau. Who is't? Pam. Chremes. Dau. Oh brave! Pam. Nor now is any stay, But that I take her home forthwith to wife. Cha. Dreams he trow, of things he desires waking? Pam. Now Davus, for the child? Dau. Leave of I pray: The gods sure purpose him their minion. Cha. I am a made man, if these things be true I'll speak to'hem. Pam. O Charinus, Thou com'st in a fit time. Cha. Oh happy news. Pam. Hast heard on't then? Cha. Yes all: pray think on me, Now in the height of your felicity. Chremes is now your own, and I do know He'll yield to any thing you motion. Pam. I mind it. But 't would now be overlong Here to attend, till he come forth to us. Follow me in; he's with Glycerium. Get you home Davus, hasten; and procure Some that may bear her hence: why stand'st thou so? Why stayest thou still? Dau. Sir I'll go presently. Exeunt Pamphilus, and Charinus. Epilogue. Epilogue by Davus. Addition, by way of paraphrase on Davus last words in the Scene. I Note you sit with kind attention bent, As pleased with what hath passed; and expect The further issue of our argument; And on the marriage now your minds reflect. We pray you cease such expectation; For we have done: the bride you do conceive But newly brought to bed; night coming on Women shall bear her hence, at Siono's leave. Chremes his younger daughter Philumen Charinus gets, at sure of Pamphilus. Crito of Andros, who has been the mean The long lost child should be discovered thus, What course he now shall take to obtain his right In Chrysis goods, I here not mention will; Nor in indeed can I: I have no insight In law points, triable at Mars his hill. Yet knowing Chremes nature tractable, Seeing withal he hath dealt liberally In portion, so that amph lus is able To bear the loss, though-common honesty Did not exact it I not doubt they will Use the poor stranger well. Me you have scene heis Venture to binding, grinding in the Mill: That fell on me, this was approaching near. I purpose further in their joy to sue My present freedom: Pamphilus love I have, Glyceriums also; both I think of due: My Master's chase is off I only crave Your furtherance in the matter; which if gained, I have good hope: for I have heard it said By men i'th' Periclean laws well read, If I make you my friends, my suit's obtained: For they have told me my discharge now stands not upon whispering voices; but clapped hands. Finis Andriae. THE EUNUCH. The ARGUMENT. A Citizen of Athens dwelling at Sunium a port-town of Attica having two children, Chremes a Son, and Pamphila a daughter, had his daughter stolen away by Pirates when she was of such tender age that she could only tell her own and parents names. After this the Athenian died. The Pirates sold the child to a Merchant of Rhodes, who gave her to a Strumpet which he loved. This Harlot had a daughter called Thais, somewhat elder than Pamphila: Which children she so brought up together, that all men of Rhodes did repute them for Sisters. Thais in process of time took to her mother's trade of life; and yielding up herself to a stranger's devotion, was by him carried to Athens; where he dying left her good means. He thus dead, she was taken up by one Thraso a soldier: he also having a while accompanied her, had occasion of travail into Caria. meanwhile the mother of Thais died at Rhodes: Her goods fell to a brother, who (with them) exposed to sale the abovenamed Pamphila, just upon the time wherein the soldier passed that way. Her youth and beauty induced the soldier (ignorant of all passages) to buy her, as a fit gift to bestow on Thais at his return to Athens. But she before that time (whores do not live in expectation, nor upon the means of one man only) had entertained the love of one Phaedria a young gentleman, son of an ancient Athenian Citizen. She also had by this time gained some inkling of the parentage of Pamphila, and that one Chremes a gentleman of Athens was in good likelihood natural brother to the maiden: for better discovery whereof, she had had conference with him (a loof off) touching the matter. The soldier returns to Athens bringing Pamphila along with him, (her maidenhead is questioned by Terence, Act. 1. Sen. 2. in these words etiamne amplius? To avoid matter unfitting for the grace of the Comedy, but she was (beyond any contrary supposable conjecture) a maiden: for a child might fillip this soldier out of his courage; and foolery was all the allurement he could use to her) and being thus returned, he finds Phaedria entered into Thais her books: out of which if he be not clean wiped, Pamphila is not for her, as the soldier affirmeth. Terence hath set out this Thais as none of the worst of that course of life; and withal of good discretion in her carriage. A Dilemma is now put upon her; love and consideration are the two horns: she must venture the goring by one of them. Love pleads first, and this is natural to her blood; and Phaedria besides deserves it. I but he may be tendered a wife; his appetite cloyed his father work her displeasure. Resolute love in spite of these premises hath down the conclusion On the other side a reputed sister, that sister hath good friends, those friends able to strengthen her unsettled fortunes; if by her means the one be restored to the other: Thus pleads Consideration. Wisely therefore she keeps the middle way for barring Phaedria her company for a brace of days (telling him why) she aims to gull the soldier of the wench by this courtesy; and then to recall Phaedria to his former contentment. Phaedria assents, leaves the City. gives withal charge to Parmeno his father's man, for bringing an Eunuch to Thais in his absence: Phaedria gone, Thraso also sends Pamphila to her by Gnato a Parasite. In the passing of the maiden thither, Chaerea a younger brother of Phaedria spies her, falls in love with her, dogs her, by accident loseth her, chafes with himself at it: then to Parmeno coming upon him, discovers his mind and whereto carried. Parmeno informs him of an Eunuch by his brother Phaedria sent, and by him forthwith to be conveyed to the very house where the maid abideth. So that by shifting clothes with the Eunuch he may undiscovered be brought to her; the Eunuch nor he having ever before been seen by Thais or any of her family Chaerea follows the advice, is brought thither, ravisheth the maiden. Much coil hence ariseth, Pamphila at length being found to be freeborn, Chaerea marries her; Thais is taken into protection by the father of the two brothers. The Soldier for mirth and cost sparing is admitted among them, by Gnato's persuasion, with the consent of Phaedria. The Actors and their Characters. SEnex, an old man not named by Terence; father of two sons: himself being retired to his Country Grange, at his return to the City finds that either of his sons have played Rex in his absence: his nature sudden and fiery. Phaedria one of his sons, a young man entangled with the love of a harlot: well qualified and straggling with his faulty inclination. Chaerea. Another of the old man's sons, an early Cock of the game: the heat of his youthful blood violently caries him on to a rape: either he was passed an Ephebus, or Grammarians mistaken in the word, or else Terence hath been very bold in the part of Chaerea lustful, heady, headstrong. Parmeno, servant of the family, wise and discreet while he gives advice; when he undertakes employment diligent and faithful. Thais, A strumpet of a sweet and pleasing disposition: graceful in language, in manners free and indifferently modest. Terence (in a word) hath strived in her person to set out a tolerable harlot. Pythias maid to Thais. A busy prattling housewife. Dorias another of her maids, of clean contrary temper: an idle meacock. Chremes, A young country gentleman. Clownish of manners, very timorous and fearful. Sophrona an old nurse, she hardly huddles over the stage: And all the news I hear from her, is this one word, Moveo. Amipho a young gentleman of good demeanour, familiar. Thraso. Gnato. These I couple: for what good Music makes a trumpet without its echo. The first a Parat, th'other a fellow clawing his poll. The soldier a bragging sot, of necessity therefore a Cowherd; the other a clawback rubbing his proud itch. The Parasite thus far wise, that he can make use of his foolish Master: for he picks matter of mirth and means out of him. Sanga a Cook, by consequence inclining to sauciness. malapert. The Prologue. IF there be any who their studies frame To give good men contentment, displease none; In their fair rank our Poet files his name: If any further hold opinion, That harsh uncivil terms to procure shame To any man, be here ungently sown; Let him think so a God's name: but with all He lets them know, whatever words do pass, Do not on such as free invectives fall; But forced replies of him first wronged was: To utter the man's name not need I shall: One, shrewdly tossed, lewdly glossed has Many Greek comedies: and by that mean In that tongue good, in Latin marred clean. 'Twas he who but erewhile presented you Menander's Phasis. to name it is enough: But in the Treasure, there you saw him show rare work, exceeding his rich stuff. One man another for found gold did sue: (Our Orators are but a glimmering snuff To this bright Poets shining Oratory.) Now in that case judiciously he wrought The parry at the bar, then defensory, To plead first, for the gold inquestion brought; Before the plaintiff urged his injury; or reason showed why he by action sought Recovery of that gold: or how the same into the comb of his dead father came. I wish him henceforth, he himself not flatter; Or think (his plays being passed) he stands secure This will be unsafe refuge for the matter I have against him: which (I him assure) Is kept in store: and (cease he not to scatter His tales abroad our scandal to procure; As he begins; and leave to urge us on) Yet hull 't shall be produced to public view. This Eunuch now a foot for action Being by the Aediles bought, he hard did sue. To be at sight of the relation. The Overseers come, the Actors drew To the rehearsal. I beseech you now, But hear, what he hath challenged and how, My man baules out in roar, a pilferer No Poet hath now tendered you a play: And yet in all the same, no one word neither Of's own, for's money tendered. Why, I pray? Why out of Navius, Plautus, (choose you whether) All is purloined that you shall hear today. And going on, the envious point he plies; That this is stale stuff in each author named: That either of them in their Comedies The soldier and flatterer's part have framed: And that both thence are hither brought he cries. Which, if 't be such a fault as must be blamed; Our Author says disknowing led him on: No purposed filching practice thought upon. That this is so, may by you straight be tried: menander's Flatterer hath a Parasite, Which Colax called is; there is beside A braggart Soldier: that he did indite Those personages thence is not denied, To fill his Eunuch: but that he did wite * The Eunuch was never before produced in Latin. That this had ever been the argument Of Latin plays before he utterly Denies. If this now be so insolent, To assume the persons used formerly By other Poets; why is sufferance lent To frame a servant running hastily? To fashion harlots wanton? matrons chaste? soldiers to vaunt? parasites cramming fast? Why of false children are drabs brought to bed? Why the old Master cheated by his slave? Why are not love, hate, jealousy yet dead? There is no sentence (to conclude) we have, Which hath not formerly been uttered. It is but reason therefore, if we crave Notice be ta'en; and our course pardoned: If what in precedent the ancients gave, New Poets modestly have followed. Pray lend your favour, and attentive ear; That you our Eunuchs news may fully hear. Act. 1. Scen. 1. Enter Phaedria and Parmeno. Phae. WHat should I then resolve on rot to go? Not now at least, being so kindly sent to? Or rather this way bend, my settled course, Not to endure these scornful tricks of Whores? She shut me out of doors; now sends for me. Go? never I, should she sue earnestly. Par. Sir, surely if you can do as you say, 'twere your most worthy, your most manly way. But if beginning, you so go not one, And faintly bearing love's affliction, When you're not sought to, when you are at square Shall then come creeping to her; and declare Your ardent love, whose flames you cannot bear; You are gone: shall be her pipe to play upon, When you are sound at her devotion. And therefore master timely yet consider, That such a thing as holdeth in it neither Reason, nor measure; such unruly thing Cannot be brought to reasons governing. In love these vicious humours settled are; Suspicious, wrongs, enmities, truces, war, New league again: Now this uncertainty To draw to certain, were like mystery, As if one should a project venture on To make a man mad with discretion. And what you now here to yourself in passion Do utter, shall I brook this base quean's fashion? Who hugs you'd soldier? bars her door on me? Not caring? I'll die first: she it shall see What manner man she has to do withal. These your high words, these hot terms tragical With one false tear shall allay easily; Which (rubbing of her eyes most pitifully) She hardly shall force from'em: and anon You'll tender your own accusation, And stoop to her set penance. Phae. Oh my hard fate! I clearly find myself unfortunate; And her a wicked strumpet. I do fry In flames of love to one I loathing fly: Knowing and seeing fall; alive, awake: Nor see my course. Par. To what course should you take, But seek to gain your liberty now lost, At what low rate you may? if little cost Will not procure it, then at th'utmost price; And do not vex yourself. Phae. That thy advice? Par. If you be wise, and to love's misery Add not: what 'thas, strive to bear moderately. Enter Thais. But she comes forth; our households known decay. For what we ought to have, she sweeps away. Scen. 2. Tha. Woes me, I fear Phaedria hath ta'en it hard And worse than I did mean it, he was bar His entrance here last day. Phae. Oh Parmeno, How I do shake and shudder every part At sight of her. Par. I pray Sir take good heart. Approach that fire, you'll be warmed thoroughly. Tha. Who's that? oh, were you my Phaedria so nigh? Why stayed you here? why entered not straight way? Par. But ne'er a word of's shutting out last day. Tha. Why art silent? Phae. Yes indeed I confess Your house is still ope to my free access: And I the favourite. Tha. Pray no more of this. Phae. Why no more of it? o, o, Thais, Thais, I would our loves were like; that this might thee equally trouble, as it troubles me; Or that I could not weigh thy injury. Tha. I prithee sweet heart Phaedria do not grieve Troth 'twas not that I love any alive More than thyself, I did it: but the case (As things fell out) so to be carried was. Par. Why, I believe her; as things came about, The poor kind soul for mere love shut him out. Tha. Say you so Parmeno? Leave that: and hear Wherefore I now sent for you. Phae. Well. I hear. Tha. But pray say first, can this your man keep counsel? Par. Who, I? exceeding well. But hear you Thais? I pass my word to you, with this proviso, All truth I hear I hold in exlently: If lie, or toy, or fable, out it goes: I'm full of chinks then, I leak everywhere: If therefore you'll have counsel kept, speak truth. Tha. My mother borne at Samos, dwelled at Rhodes. Par. This may be well concealed. Tha. There a merchant Bestowed a little girl upon my mother, Stolen hence from Athens. Phae. Was the child freeborn? Tha. I think so; do not know the certainty. herself did tell father and mother's name; Country or other signs to be known by. She knew not; nor indeed was't possible By reason of her tender age she should. The Merchant thus much added, that he heard The Pirates say of whom he bought the child, That it was brought from Sunium. My mother Having received it, bred it, taught it so In every thing, as if't had been her own: And indeed most reputed her my Sister. Long after I left Rhodes, in company Of a then stranger, whom alone I kept to, And hither came. That stranger dying, gave All the now goods unto me, which I have. Par. Either of these is false, 'twill out. Tha. Why so? Par. Because that neither were you satisfied With him alone, nor yet had all from him: Good and great part of it, my Master brought you. Tha. I grant thee but permit me to go on Whither I aim. Since that, a soldier Who had begun to love me, travailed To Caria: after which I grew into Acquaintance with yourself. And you well know. That I since then have held you inwardly: Made you my bosoms only Secretary. Phae. Neither will this be hushed by Parmeno. Par. o do you make a doubt on't? Tha. Pray attend. My mother there at Rhodes deceased late; Her covetous brother, heir to her estate, Nothing the wench was fair, and skilled well In Music; hoped her at good rate to sell: So forth he brought her, sold her to my friend Who then there was; and fully did intend To give the maid to me: Yet nothing knew Of all the passage I have told to you. He coming home, and understanding too, That in my love you likewise have to do, He frames excuses to keep back the maid. For (says he to me) could he get belief That he in my account should be held chief, And you put by? or stood he not afraid I having got her from him, presently Would then forsake him; he would give her me? But this he doubts. Yet I do rather guess He fancies her. Phae. Has he yet done no more? Tha. No surely: for myself have (Phaedria) Upon that point sisted her narrowly. For many reasons I desire to get her; First for she's deemed my sister: then beside That to her friends I may the maid deliver. myself do hear a lovely woman bide, Having nor kinsmen here nor yet fast friend; Wherefore I seek to win some Phaedria, By this good turn, I to the wench intend. For my more ready working, I do pray Thy help dear heart. The manner of my plot Is, by your free consent for some few days He may enjoy my love. Answer you not? Phae Oh woman wickedest of all thy race! Should I reply aught to thy filthy doings? Par. o our brave young Master! I commend him. He's vexed at length: now sir you are a man. Phae. The issue of the tale I could not find: Small girl stolen hence; my mammy as her own Bred it; deemed sister; have a childing mind To hea't; and to put it where 'tis known. Whereto doth this your tale now wheel about? But that thou lov'st me less than yonder lout, And jealous art thy sweet pigsney does toute On her, thee of his greasy grace cast out? Tha. I jealous of it? Phae. What else troubles thee? Is he alone a giver? didst e'er see My bounty slight or slack? when late you said You had a great mind to an Aethiop maid; Did not I, laying all else care aside, Cast out for one? and Eunuch too beside Thou wishedst; cause great Ladies have Such creatures; I found one; yesterday gave twenty pounds for'em. Now despised by thee, I yet retain this in my memory: For these my kindnesses thou slights me. Tha. Why speak you Phaedria in this angry manner? Though I desire her, and think may obtain her Best this way: rather yet then have a foe Of you, I'll do as you will have me do. Phae Would that word truly from thy heart were brought; Rather then me thy foe if I but thought That this was spoke without dissembling, I could myself frame to bear any thing. Par. How quickly one poor word hath tamed him? Tha. do I poor soul speak it dissemblingly? What thing did you ere crave though reastingly At my hand, but you had it? I of you Cannot obtain leave for a day or two. Phae If only two, and that if they prove not twenty. Tha. Indeed but two, or— Phae. Or I wait nothing. Tha. Tshall be no more: pray yield this liberty. Phae. Well: Thais I must do as you will have me. Tha. Deservedly I love you. Phae. 'tis well done I'll to the country, and there pine alone For these two tedious days: I am resolved so. Thais must be obeyed. You Parmeno See those brought hither straight. Par. Yes sir. Phae. Thais Farewell for two days. Tha. And you Phaedria. Command you all else? Phae. What else should I say With this same soldier present absent be: Days nights thy love, fix thy desire on me: Thy longings, dreams, thy hopes, delights, and mind,. Fix upon me: be all with me: in fine Be thy soul mine, as mine is truly thine. Exeunt Phaedria and Parmeno. Tha. Woes me; perhaps he hardly credits me, But judgeth me by other wantoness trade: But I that best know my own privity, Know I have now no kind of leazing made: And that I love, no man more heartily Than Phaedria here: and that what I have said Or done, is only for to help the maid: I hope I have well nigh discovered Who is her brother: a young man well bred. He promised to visit me this day. I'll get me in, and for his coming stay: Exit Thait Act. 2. Scen. 1. Enter Phaedria and Parmeno. Phae. AS I late bade, see those be hither brought. Par. I will. Phae. But carefully. Par. It shall be done. Phae, And speedily. Par. I Warrant you. Phae. Is this Sufficient? Par. Good God! What need you ask so? Would you could find some good commodity, As easily as all this will be lost. Phae. myself, to myself dearer, am lost too. Do not so thwartly entertain the charge. Par. No: but will see it done. Would you ought else? Phae. Grace this my present with what words thou canst And what thou canst, disgrace my rival from her. Par. I had thought o''at, though you had not Mentioned it. Phae. I'll to the country, and there keep. Par. I judge so. Phae. But hear'st? Par. What say y'? Phae. Dost judge I may fettle There to abide without returning back, For all the time of my enjoined penance? Par. You? troth I think not: either I imagine You'll pace again back to her presently; Or want o' sleep i'th' i'th' night will force you hither, Phae. I'll work to weariness, that I may force sleep. Par. Put this into your task you'll watch weary. Phae. A way fool, thou talk'st idly Parmeno: I sure must weed this my effeminate mind; myself Lovercoker. Can I not (If need should be) for bear her company, Yea, for three days together. Par. Wonderful! For three whole days? advise sir what you do. Phae. The word shall stand. Par. Oh you good gracious gods! Exit Phaedria. What disease call you this? is it not strange That none should know him the same thing to be, That erst he was? who late more stayed than he? More temperate? less vain? but who comes here? Enter Gnato with Pamphila, and a waiting wends. How! troth us the soldier's Parasite Gnato; who with him brings the maid along. As present unto Thais. Oh rare sight! Sweet countenance! 'tis mar'le but I shall have Course entertainment of her here today With my decrepit Eunuch. Why her face Puts down the Mistress; Thais self doth pass. Scen. 2. Gna. OH you immortal gods! how far one man Outstrips another? and what difference is Twixt men of brain, and fools? this argument Comes to my mind on this occasion. Today I met one, of my rank and place; No niggard pinchgut: but one, took delight To havoc out his state in dainty morsels. I note him rugged, nasty, drooping grown; Beset with rags and age. Why how now fellow, Say I to him, what does this dressing mean? Marry, says he, poor creature having lost All I enjoyed, see to what state I am driven? Acquaintance, friends, all do abandon me. Here I began (measuring my own estate) To hold him in contempt; and school him thus: What, idle drone, hast thou so framed thy course That no hope's left thee? hast thou sent thy wits After thy wealth? dost not observe me One of thine own rank and condition? What clothing, colour, neatness, plight of body Have I? have every thing though nothing have: And nought possessing, yet do nothing want. I but (sighs out my fellow) I poor caitiff Cannot endure to be a jesting stock, Nor suffer stripes for money. What, I prithee (Reply I) should be gotten that way, thinkst? Thou art clean wide: in former times, of old, Such kind of fellows, shifted out a living: This a new way of birding found by me. There are a sort of men that fain would show To have rare parts; and yet are nothing so. I follow these; to these myself apply; Not to make them sport by my foolery, But my own sport of them I smile on these, Withal admire their wits: whate'er they please To say I do commend it: if straight way They do the very selfsame thing unsay, I praise that too: ought say they, ought deny? The same I say, deny for company. In fine, I on myself impose this law: Their humours at all hands to soothe and claw: And this is now found the most thriving way. Par. Troth a fine fellow: he of fool's mints madmen. Gna. While thus we talk, we reach to th' market place: The joyful vittlers haste to meet me there; Fishmongers, Butchers, sausagemakers, Cooks, And Fishermen: people to whom I had been both beneficial, while my state stood good; And since 'twas sunk: and still advantage them. These me salute, invite me home to dine: Do welcome me. The hunger-starved fellow I named, seeing the account men made o' me, And that I fared so well, so easily; Humbly besought me he might learn the trade. I bade him follow that if 't may be wrought, Lake as professed Philosophers have sought To keep their names up in their sectaries, According to their doctrines qualities: Epicures, Cynics, Stoics, Platonics: So these my followers be styled Gnatonics. Par. Do you not note what ease and trusting to Other men's roast, may work a man to do? Gna. Yet why thus loiter I, and not convey This maid to Thais; and her further pray To come to supper? but see Parmeno The soldier's rival's servant, at her door. he's melancholy: all's well. Sure the folk here Are frosty witted: I am now determined. To play upon the fool. Par. By this their gift They think that Thais now 's their own cocksure. Gnat. Gnato does greet his chief friend Parmeno. With wishes of much health. What dost man? Par. Stand. Gna. I see't, but seest aught hear does trouble thee? Par. Yes, thee. Gna. I do believe it; but aught else? Par. Why askest? Gna. Because you're sad. Par. Not I truly. Gna. No, be not. But what thinks thou of this maid? Par. Thus you now mean, that we are cashiered hence, 'las, all things suffer intercourse of change. Gna. Parm'no: for these six whole months together. I'll set thee at rest from trudging up and down Or watching today break: make I thee happy? Par. Me? wonder sully! Gna. So I use my friends. Par. I do commend you for it. Gna. I detain you: Perhaps you were to go some whither else. Par. No whither, I. Gna. Then I pray a little Lend me your furtherance: work my entrance here. Par. Well sir go on. Your passage now lies fair By reason of this maid you bring with you. Gna. Would ye have any called to you out of th' house? Exit Gnato and Pamphila. Par. Let but two days be passed over once; And you that have the happy readiness With your least singer now to ope the doors, I'll make you many a time hereafter knock And kick your heels against'em to no purpose Enter Gnato. Gna. What do you still attend here Parmeno? Pray, are you placed there sentinel, to watch lest any private messenger should run Between the soldier and Thais hither. Exit Gnato again. Par. Conceitedly! but indeed they must be Things extraordinary, that may please Enter Chaerea. The soldier. But my Masters younger son I spy a coming hither: I do marvel What 'tis hath drawn him out of the Pyreum: For there at this time he is public Custos. 'tis not for nothing. And he comes in haste: And (why God knows) his eyes about does cast. Scen. 3. Chae. I Am undone she's nowhere to be seen: And I that lost sight of her am lost too. Where may I search? where hunt? whom ask? what way Take? I have no direction; but I have this hope left Where ere she be, she cannot be long hid. Beautiful face! hence forward I do blot Out of the table of my fantasy All other women: and do fall to loathe These common beauties. Par. Mark this younker too? I know not what he talks to himself of love. Oh my most unfortunate old master! Why this is such a hotspur, if he take To wenching once, you'll think his brother's course mere tricks and gambads in comparison Of what his furious rage will venture on. Chae. Oh all you gods and goddesses confound That same old dotard stayed me on my way. Lee them plague me too, that did deign to stay: And further would not slight him. But behold Here's Parmeno: well met. Par. Why are you sad? Or about what so earnest? whither going? Chae. Troth I not know, nor whither, nor bout what; I am so utterly beside myself. Par. Why how comes this? Chae. I am in love man. Par. How? Chae. Now Parmeno make proof, what dwells in thee. Thou know'st thou oftentimes hast promised me, Bidding me think of something I desired; And thou wouldst show how thou couldst pleasure me. And this thou offeredst, when I secretly Brought to the seller all our victuals to thee. Par. Peace idlesbee Chae. Now on my part 'tis found What I desire: let me thy promise find. Besides it is an action of that value, Whereon thou mayst spend thy best sweat and labour. This wench is nothing like our City Mammets, Whom their mothers strive to make low shouldered; And lace hard in, to make 'em appear slender; If any grow a little fleshlier she's termed a champion; straightway dieted: That be they of natural temper ere so good, They tanner 'em to form of reeds or rushes: And therefore they are made much on. Par. What on yours? Chae. Face of a rare proportion. Par. Excellent! Chae. Colour her own plump body; full of mettle. Par. Her years? Chae. About sixteen. Par. The very prime. Chae. Procure her me by force stealth, or entreaty; I weigh not which way, so I may ento, her. Par. Of what condition is she? Chae. Troth I know not. Par Of whence. Cha Nor that. Par. Where dwells she? Chae. As little, that. Par. Where saw you her? Chae. Passing along the street. Par. How lost? Chae. That was chafing with myself Trust now as I came hither: neither think there's any living on, to whom good haps Offering well at first, do end more thwartly. Par. What mischief hath fall'n out? Chae. Oh me accurst! Par. Why, what's the matter? Chae. Ask thou? know'st thou not. My father's kinsman, Archidemides? A man much of his years? Par. What else? Chae. Whilst I Follow the maiden, he comes just upon me. Par. Unseasonably o' my word. Chae. Nay verily Unluckily. The word unseasonable Fits other chances better Parmeno. I may swear safe, this six or seven months' last passed, I ne'er happened to see the man; But now when least I would, or had less need. Seems it not strange, how thinkst thou? Par. Yes, y' faith. Chae. As distant as he was he huddled to me, Bow-bent, palsey-handed, blabber-lipped, cough-strangled: Ho, ho, stay, Chaerea (says he) Chaerea stay; Chaerea to thee I speak: knows thou my errand? What is it, say I to him? marry— marry— And half an hour after grunties to me I have a trial to be heard tomorrow— And what of that, say I? he answers me see that thou tell thy father carefully, That he remember to be early ready To plead my cause. This our dialogism Took up an hour of time, I asked what else? No more sares he. I left him; looking backward To spy the maid, she i'th' mean time had turned down this way to our street. Par. 'tis ten to one But he means her, that was now brought to Thais. Chae. When I come hither, she's not to be seen. Par. Did any company attend the wench? Chae. Yes, a Parasite and a maid servant. Par. 'tis she Cast of your care: all now is quiet. Chae. Thou talkest from the purpose. Par. Nay, but mind the business now in hand: Chae. Say dost know her? or sawest her? Par. Saw, know her, know where she is? Chae. Oh my sweet Parmeno know'st her? Par. I do know her. Chae. And where she is? Par. Here, brought to the harlot Thais, And given her for a gift. Chae. Who is so potent To give such gifts? Par. Thraso the soldier, Your brother Phaedria's rival. Chae. Thou declarest But a hard case my brother stands in then. Par. you'd say so indeed, if you had seen the present Which he provides to send in counterpoise. Chae. prithee, what is't? Par. An Eunuch. Chae. What, that drivel, That filthy fellow he brought yesterday? The old man-woman? Par. ay, the very same. Chae. He'll be coited out o' doors with's present. But I ne'er knew, this Thais was our neighbour Par. She has not long been. Chae. I'm a fellow of nothing. Strange, I should ne'er have seen her? but dost hear? Is she so fair, as she's reported for? Par. Yes fine. Chae. But not to be compared to mine? Par. 'tis otherwise. Chae. I prithee Parmeno Work that I may obtain her. Par. I'll see to't: I'll study for your furtherance and help. Command you me ought else? Chae. Whether now go'st thou? Par. Home; to convey those servants unto Thais. As late your brother charged me. Chae. Oh blessed Eunuch! Who is to be there placed in that house. Par. Wherein so blessed Chae. Wherein, demandest thou? That ever has so fair a fellow servant To look on; talk to: under the same roof Be still with her; sometimes take meals with her? Sometimes sleep nigh her? Par. What if now yourself May be made happy? Chae. Wherein Parmeno? Par. Say. take's clothes Chae. His clothes? what thence Will follow? Par. I'll lead y' in 's stead. Chae. I note. Par. I'll say you're he. Chae. I apprehend thee Par. You may then enjoy The benefits, which now you said he should; be present, eat, touch, play, and lie close by her: Seeing 〈…〉 'em do know you, what you are. Beside your face and years are such, you may Pass easily for an Eunuch. Chae. Excellent. I never in my life heard better counsel. Let's in; and help to dress me presently. Lead me, carry me, with all speed thou canst. Par. What mean'st? troth I but feasted. Chae. Thou wast's time in prating. Par. I have cast myself away. What have I done wretch? whither thrust you me? Will you now force me? Sir I warn you stay. Chae. Let's go. Par. Persist you? Chae. I am fully bent to't. Par. Foresee, if th'course be not too hot for us. Chae. 'tis not I warrant thee, let's on. Par. ay, but This bean will sure be threshed on my shoulders. Oh 'tis a heinous practice we attempt. Chae. A hamous fig: is that a heinous practice, If I be brought in a bawdy house, And there return their own upon these gibbets And plagues of men? which always hold om youth In such contempt, and always work our torment? If I do now put a like trick upon 'em, As we by them are still gulled? or else rather Is't fit, we still take their wrongs patiently? I say 'tis fit I put the jest upon her. who'll blame me that shall hear on't? every man Will say, I fitted 'em a pennyworth Par. What means all this? If you be so resolved You may go on. But pray you sir hereafter Lay not the fault on me. Chae. I will not. Par. You Command me then? Chae. Command, charge and compel. Par. I'll ne'er (decline then) your authority. Exeunt Parmeno and Chaerea. Follow. Chae The powers divine prosper our course. Act. 3. Scen. 1. Enter Thraso, and Gnato. Thr. DId Thais (sayest thou) give me such great thanks? Gna. Huge thanks sir. Thr. And glad sayst? ha? Gna. Not so much for the gifts worth, as that it came From you: that's her heart's pride sir. Enter Parmeno and keep aloof. Par. I come forth to see How time serves for conveyance of my present. But lo the soldier. Thr. My kind destiny Sure of a child bestowed this gift upon me, That all I do becomes most acceptable. Gna. Truly I note so much. Thr. The King himself Still used to give me singular great thanks For all I did; to other men not so. Gna. The man that hath brain in him doth derive Oft times the glory earned by others' sweat Upon himself: a thing that's rife in you. Thr. Thou hast it. Gna. Therefore the King still wore you— Thra. ay, Gna. In his eye. Thra. True: gave the oversight Of all his forces, all his plots to me. Gna. Rare! Thr. Then, if weariness at any time Of men, or tediousness of business Possessed him; when he minded to be private, Would— as it were— thou feelst me? Gna. Yes when he would Unload his mind— as 'twere— of care. Thr. Yes, than He would retire with me alone to banquet. Gna. o strange! you do describe a rare choice King. Thr. ay, he's a man of very few men's stamp. Gna. Rather of none's if he converse with you. Thra. All men envied me; closely snapped at me; I thus regard 'em; all (I say) bore me ill: But one most deadly, whom the King had made o'erseer of his Indian Elephants. He at a time being over saucy with me, What said I to him, take you boldness Strato, Because you have command over the beasts? Gna. So help me God, an exc'llent witty jest: Oh singular! this was a wipe unto him. Ah! and what he? Thr. Struck dumb. Gna. How could he choose? Par. Your faith good gods! desperate fellow, caitiff, Churchrobber. Thr. ay but what thinkst thou Gnato. Of that same jest, wherewith I girded once A youth of Rhodes being at dinner with me? Did I ne'er tell't thee? Gna. Never: I pray tell it. I have heard it told above a thousand times. Thr. This Rhodian I speak of, a raw young stripling Sat once at banquet with me: when by chance I had my harlot with me: This green novice Began to speak broad: how now impudence, Say I to him, art thou thyself hare-haunched And huntest for venison. Gna. ha, ha, he. Thra. How is't? Gna. Conceited, clearly, smooth, not to be mended For God's love was't your jest? I thought it old. Thr. Hast heard it? Gna. Oft, abroad it bears the bell For a prime witty one. Thr. 'twas mine. Gna. Alas, Rash headless youth. Par. Now the gods confound thee. Gna. For God's sake what did he? Thr. Blasted. All there Were ready every man to burst with laughter: And in conclusion all 'gan now fear me. Gna. I could not blame 'em. Thr. But dost hear wert Best I cleared myself to Thais, of this maid: For that she stands in jealousy I love her? Gna. At no hand: rather strive to increase her doubt. Thr. Why? Gna. Ask you? find you not, if any time She do commend or mention Phaedria, How it does vex you? Thr. Yes. Gna. To prevent that This is your only remedy. When she Names Phaedria to you, do you presently Name Pamphila: if she at any time Say, let us have home Phaedria to banquet, Reply you, call in Pamphila to sing: In fine, give like for like, to nettle her Thr. ay, if she loved me, this might further Gnato. Gna. Sing she expects and loves what you do give her, She long since loveth you; you have long since Easily got the start how you may grieve her. she'll always stand in awe, lest any time Upon offence ta'en you'll bestow elsewhere That benefit, she now does reap from you Thr. 'tis right thou sayst. Strange, 't came not to my Mind? Gna. That is a jest indeed; because you bent not Your mind out or else Thraso what rare strain Had it produced, if minted in your brain. Enter Thais and Pythias her maid, with other wenches attending. Scen. 2. Tha. methought, I e'en now heard the soldier's tongue See where he is: Thraso my friend, well met. Thr. Oh my dear Thais, my delight, how dost thou? Do you a little love me for your Minstrel? Par. What a sweet proper handsel has he given her At the first onset. Tha. Much for your deserving: Gna. Then let's to supper. Why here stay you? Par. Mark other Wiseacre too. A man may judge He was of a man's getting. Tha. When you please, I am in readiness. Par. I'll go toward 'em, And make as if I now but new came forth. Are you to go forth any whither Thais? Par. o Parmeno, well done: yes indeed today. I am to go abroad. Par. Pray whither? Tha. Seest thou not The man There? Par. Yes, withal his presence irks me. Those presents from my Master Phaedria Are ready when you please. Thr. What stay we for? Why yet not hence? Par. Pray sir grant truce a while, I may surrender up some trifling presents, I also may Imparle and treat with her. Thr. Some goodly present Sure: nothing like mine. Par. The matter self will Show that. Ho there, bid those two I gave in charge, Come quickly forth. Enter Blackemore Wench and Eunuch. Come you here forward. This same wench was brought From Aethiopia. Thr. Some three half penny purchase, Gna. Scarce that. Par. Where are you Dorus. Come you hither. Here is an Eunuch for you: mark How sweet faced, of what a blooming age. Tha. Now As God help me a handsome youth. Par. What say You to him Gnato? What fault findest thou? or what Objects thou Thraso? hushed both: sufficient Commendation. Prove him in learning, song or Wrestling: such knowledge fitteth free-horn youth to Have, I'll make it clear appear he's perfect in. Thr. For need, unwarmed with wine I could that Eunuch Par. And he that sends you these, does not require That you should only live to pleasure him; For his sake, bar all else your company; Nor brags his battles, nor shows forth his scars; Nor stands betwixt you and your benefit As one does, I could name: but at such times When he may be injurious to none, yourself disposed, and time convenient; If then admitted, he rests satisfied. Thr. This shows he serves some poor & forlorn Master. Gna. For no man sure that could procure another Would endure this. Par. Sirrah., hold thou thy peace, Whom I do judge under all names of baseness: For thou that framest thyself to claw that thing, I thinkst mayest feed on fire. Thr. Do we yet go? Tha. I'll have but in these first; and leave some charge Among my servants, what I would have done; And come out to you straight. Thr. I'll depart hence. Exit Thais with the Eunuch and blackmore Gnato do you stay for her. Par. ay, for it fits not A general walk with's mistress in the streets. Thr. What should I use a many words to thee? Exit Parmeno Thou art much like thy Master. Gna. Ha, Ha, he. Thr. What is't thou laughst at? Gna. That which now you said, And the other jest broke on the Rhodian Enter Thais Came to my mind: But Thais is come forth. Thr. Run you before and get at home all ready. Gna. Content. Tha. You Pythias have a special care, Exit Gnato. If Chremes chance to call here, you entreat him To stay; if that he cannot fitly do, That he would come again some other time: If neither that he can, bring him to me. Pyt. I will forsooth. Tha. But what, what was it else I was about to say? Oh, have a care Unto the maiden, see you? and keep home. Exit Pytheas into her Mistress's house. Thr. Let's go. Tha. Wenches attend and follow me. Exeunt Thraso, Thais and her train. Scen. 3. Enter Chremes. Chr. The more I do revolve things in my mind Still the more likely arguments, find That Thais here aims some shrewd trick against me; I see she works on me so cunningly. When first she sent for me (if any one should then have asked me the occasion Of business 'twixt us twain, I knew nothing To Answer) being come, with hammerit She fashioned out pretences of my stay, She had performed religious rites that day Unto the gods, and would communicate A Weighty secret to me: (I then straight Grew jealous, all this was some cunning strain, She fits down by me; cause of talk doth frame I seeming cold, her speech to this point came, How long 'twas since my Parents had been dead Long since I told her: than she questioned If I had land at Sunium? and how far It lay from sea? this (I think) liketh her: She hopes to work it from me. at the last She drew to this, if I had no young sister From that place stolen a many years now past? Who then was with her at the time we missed her? What things she had about her? or if any Could know her? why should she these questions move unless (as is the impudence of many) She fain herself would that my sister prove, Of old so young hence lost? should she survive, Her years at most reach not above sixteen; Thais is elder than myself, I ween. She craved me again come to her: let her drive The matter, and her business to some head; Or leave this sending: I'll not be troubled, To listen her third errand. Ho, within— Enter Pythias to her mistress's door. Pyth. Who's that? Chr. One Chremes. Pyth. Oh fine little pleasant pace. Chr. I still affirm, I am laid for to be catched. Pyth. Thais did earnestly request you would Return tomorrow. Chr. I go into the Country. Pyth. Pray y' Chr. I say I cannot. Pyth. Then remain here A while till she come back. Chr. No by no means. Pyth. Why my kind Chremes? Chr. Hence you harlotry Pyth. If such be your determination, I pray step over to her where she is. Chre. I care not if I do. Pyth. Darias go straight And leadeth is gentleman to his soldiers. Pythias returns into her Mistress's house. Dorias enters and go away with Chremes. Scen. 4. Enter Antipho. Ant. SOme youths of us agreed on yesterday A feast in Common 'mongst us: Chaerea We made our Steward, rings were given, time, place Set down; time's past, where it appointed was Nothing is ready, he not to be seen, I know not what to say out, what to ween. Now all the rest have laid the task on me To seek him; therefore now I'll first go see If he be gotten home. But who is that Comes out of Thais house? is't he or not? Enter Char. in the eunuch's clothes! 'tis he. What creature's he become? what means This his attire? what evil bodes his staring? I cannot enough wonder, or conjecture. But whatsoe'er it be, I'll aloof stand; And angle for the secret now in hand. Scen. 5. Chae. IS none about the doors? Not one. does none come yet behind me neither? No not one. May I not now at pleasure vent my joy? Oh jupiter! now truly is the time I easily could brook to part with life: lest some ensuing wretchedness thereof Should hap to sour my present happiness. No curious inquisitor now meet me? That up and down would haunt me, weary me, Kill me with tedious questions, why I skip thus? Why am so jocund? Whither I am going? Or whence do come? in what place got these clothes? What is my aim? whither I'm mad or sober? Ant. I'll to him, and obtain the thanks of him He so desires to part with. Chaerea, Why in such rapture man! whence this attire? Why art so pleasant? or what aim'st thou at? Art in thy wits? Why starest thou so upon me? Why speak'st not? Chae. Oh happy day? o friend well met. There's no man living, I would rather see At this time than thyself. Ant. I prithee, say What is the matter! Chae. Nay truly I pray thee Give me the hearing. Know'st thou not her here My brother is in love withal? Ant. Yes Thais: As I do guess. Chae. The same. Ant. So I remember. Chae. A certain maid was given her today. What need I blazon or set out to thee This maidens matchless beauty, Anripho? Thou knowest me choice in such deciphering. She did inflame my heart. Ant. What sayst? Chae. thou'lt say She from the whole sex bears the Bell away, If ever thou shalt see her. What need words? I 'gan to love her: by good chance there was At home an Eunuch which my brother had bought for this Thais, not then sent to her. Here our man Parmeno an odd inkling gave me Of a device, which quickly I laid hold on. Ant. What Chae. If you would silent keep, you would Know sooner. First to change clothes with him, then cause myself To be conveyed for him. Ant. What for the Eunuch? Chae. Yes. Ant. What advantage should you win thereby? Chae. Makest then a question? I should see, should hear, Should be with her I loved, Antipho. Was it a slight cause, or a trifling reason? I was brought to her; when she had received me She gladly led me home: commits the maid— Ant. To whom? To thee? Chae. To me. Ant. a fine safeguard. Chae. She chargeth me that no man come to her; Commands me further, I not start from her; But that alone I keep with her alone, In a close chamber: I say, yes forsooth; Upon the ground looking demurely. Ant. Gaitise. Chae. I am to go now forth (says she) to banquet, And with her leads along her maiden servants; (A few young novice wenches left behind To attend upon the maid) these presently Prepare for her to bath. I wish them haste While they make things in readiness, the maid Sits in a closet, looking on a table: Wherein was painted, how that jupiter Once rained in Danae's lap a golden showy. I looked upon the piece too: and because He had in former times played the like pranked, My spirits were the more encouraged: In that a God had taken human shape, And in gold dew dropping himself through tiles Had closely, finely, wantoned with his leman And which o' th'Gods had done't? matie the same Who shakes with thunder heavens high arched frame Should I wormling (then) make scruple of it? I did not, but embraced it willingly. When this I cast in mind, the maid meanwhile Is called for in, to wash: goes, baths, returns; And afterward they lay her in her bed: I waiting stand if they'd bid me do aught. One comes to me, and says, you sirrah Dorus Take you this fan; and thus fan wind upon her: When we have washed, you (if you will) wash too. I take it with sad countenance. Ant. At that time I would ha' seen that bashful face of thine How thou great Ass didst stand holding a fan Chae She had scarce spoken it, when all together hurrying out of the room, depart to bath; And make such noise, as servants commonly Are gone to do, when Masters are from home meanwhile a slumber seizes on the maid. I privily (thus) on the fans side do leer, And look about too, if all else be clear: I saw all safe, and hoited fast the door. Ant. What then? Chae. What then fool? Ant. I confess it. Chae. Should I let slip such opportunity, So proffered, short, wished and not hoped for? I had been then indeed such as I showed for. Ant. 'tis true thou sayest. But in the meanwhile what's done concerning our repast? Chae why all is ready. Ant. Thou art careful: where? at your house? Chae. No at Discus Our freeman's. Ant. 'tis far hence, let's make more haste Go shift your clothes. Chae. Where should I go to shift? I'm lost; from whom I stand as banished; I doubt my brother may be now within: Fear also, lest my father be returned Out of the country. Ant. Go we to our house, That's the next place, where you may shift yourself. Chae. The advice is good, let's go: withal I mind To take thy counsel, how I may my love Further enjoy. Ant. Content, our wits will prove. Exeunt Chae. and Antipho. Act. 4. Scen. 1. Enter Dorias. Dor. SO help me God, I somewhat doubt poor creature By things I saw, lest the enraged soldier Should raise some broil; and do my Mistress wrong. For presently as soon as Chremes came The late given young maid's brother; she requests The soldier, he would cause him be called in: He grew in sum, but yet durst not deny her. she further moves his invitation Unto their banquet: (this my Mistress did To keep him there; because as yet the time Served not to tell him things concerned his sister. The soldier willed him sit; yet grumblingly. He placed, my mistress frames discourse to him: The soldier thought a rival had been brought Under his nose, and minding to cry quittance Called out, ho, one of you fetch Pamphila To sing to us; Thais cries out, at no hand: What her to a banquet? He would have it so. Hence grew the matter to a down right brawl: My mistress privily took of her jewels, And gave 'em me in secret to bring thence. This is a certain sign, whereby I know she'll slip thence, when she spies fit time thereto Manet Dorias. Scen. 2. Enter Phadria. Phae. AS I upon my journey passing was, A thronging troop of busy thoughts do press Into my mind; as ought it comes to pass To men whose souls some trouble seized has: And every thing in the worse sense I guess. What need much talk? while these dumps me possess unheeded I was passed the town I meant to, And was gone far beyond it; when at last Perceiving it I back returned fast: And being scarce come unto the turn which went to The town, there stayed; and in my mind thus cast, Two whole days must I this place be pent to Alone without her? Why is that such a matter? 'tis nothing: Nothing? What, if not come at her To touch her? must I yet be barred her sight? If that be crossed, is this to be lost quite? To climb the lowest, first step of love's lather Were somewhat yet. But why in such affright Enter Pythias. Comes Pythias forth? and why so hastily? Manet Phaedria. Scen. 3. Pyth. WRetch that I am, where shall I find this fellow? Where this ungodly wicked fellow find? That he should dare attempt a piece of work So monstrous, so audacious! Phae I am lost, And doubt what this may mean. Pyth. Besides, yet further The villain not alone defiled the maid; But rent the poor soul's linen, tore her hair. Phae. How's this? Pyth. Whom if I now could light upon, How I would fly upon th'eyes o' th' witch? Phae. I cannot guess what coil hath here befallen Since my departure. I'll go to her. How now? What is the matter? why such haste? Who is it Pythias, thou look'st for thus. Pyth. Oh Phaedria, Whom seek I? Sir I pray you get you hence Where you deserve, with your conceited presents. Phae. What may this mean? Pyth. Ask you? what fine Eunuch Was that you sent? what stir hath he here made us? H'has ravished the young maid, the soldier Bestowed upon my Mistress. Phae. Ha! what this? Pyth. I am undone. Phae. Thou art drunk. Pyth. I would To God that all that hate me, were as drunk as I am. Dorias. For God's love Pythias what strange hap was this? Phae. thouart mad. How could an Eunuch do such things? Pyth. I know not what he was, but what h'has done The case itself doth show. The wench she weeps. And when one asks her, dare not utter why. The honest fellow too's not to be found. Beside I fear, he's run away with somewhat. Phae. You make me wonder, where the lazy bones Should have conveyed himself: unless perhaps He be retired back to our house again. Pyth. Pray, see if he be there. Phae. You shall know straight. Dorias. I am to seek, good God sweet Pythias I have not heard so strange and accident. Pyth. Yes, I had heard that they loved woman dearly, but could do nothing. And forgetful beast I never thought on't: else I had mewed him up, And ne'er ha' trusted her unto his keeping. Scen. 4. Enter Phaedria haling out of doors Dorus the Eunuch in Chaerea's apparel. Phae. COme out o'doores mischievous rogue; come out. what draw you backward? come forth runaway Ill purchased commodity come forth. Dorus. For God's sake sir. Phae. Mark how the Hangman Wries his chops a'toneside? sirrah, what's the scope Of this your coming back? the mystery Of this your changing clothes? your answer sirrah? If I had stayed ne'er so little Pithias, I had not found him there: he had prepared Ready for packing. Pyth. Have you got him then? Phae. Got him? what else? Pyth. Upon my faith that's well. Doras. I troth that's passing well. Pyth. Where is he? Phae askest? Seest him not? Pyth. See pray? whom? Phae. Why this. Pyth. what's he? Phae. He that this day was brought you. Pyth. None of us e'er saw this fellow, till now Phadria. Phae. ne'er saw? Pyth. for God's love. (Phaedria) did you Think, That this was brought. Phae. Yes for I had no other. Pyth. Fie, there's between 'em no comparison. That was a fair and comely visaged youth. Phae. You thought so then cause he had other clothes on: Those off, you think him now ill favoured. Pyth. Au! pray sir cease: as if the difference. Were small between 'em? here today was brought (Phaedria) a youth you would ha' longed to look on: This an old, creeping, dreaming, dropsy, dotard; Complexioned like a Weasel. Phae. How, how this? Chrochets? you make me scarce know what I do. Sirrah come near me did not I buy you? Dorus. Yes forsooth. Pyth. Now command him answer me. Phae. Put forth your question. Pyth. cam'st thou here today? You see he does deny it: but the other Came to us, hither brought by Parmeno, Some sixteen years of age. Phae. Resolve me this; First, by what means got you the clothes you wear? Silent? monster of men, speakst not? Dorus. Chaerea Came home. Pyth. My brother? Dorus. Yes. Phae. When? Dor. But this day. Phae. How long since? Dorus. even now. Phae And Who was with him? Dorus. Parmeno Phae. Hadst thou ever before seen him? Dorus. No, nor yet ere before had heard him named. Phae. How then didst know him to have been my brother Dorus. Parmeno said so. He gave me these clothes. Phae. I'm lost. Dorus. himself withal straight put on Mine. Pyth. You think me now not drunk; nor that I have lied. 'tis now most clear the poor Wench is deflowered. Phae. Fie beast, believest him? Pyth. What need I Believe him? The matter self proclaims it. Phae. sirrah you, Come hither (here you) yet a little nearer: So, 'tis well. Tell me again, did Chaerea Take your clothes. Dorus. Yes. Phae. And put 'em on himself? Dorus. Yes Phae. And was brought for you to Thais? Dorus. Yes sir. Phae. Great jupiter! oh wicked shameless fellow Pyth. Woes me; you scarce believe yet we are abused. Phae. 'tis mar'le now, but thou credit's what he says? I'm at my wit's end— Sirrah dost thou hear? (deny't being asked again) can I no way Work a truth from thee? ha? didst see my brother? Dorus. Not I intruth. Phae. No truth, I see, unforced Can be got from him. Come, come in with me. Now say things straight deny 'em? (beg of me.) Dorus. For God's sake sit Phae. Will you get in? Dorus Hoy heigh. Phae I know no means else how to shift away. I stand in a fair case, if such a knave As thou, may thus befool me at his pleasure. (Exit. Phaedria and Dorus. Pyth. I know sure as I lief, 't was Parmeno. Complotted this. Dorias. Yes doubtless. Pyth Ere I sleep I'll find a mean how to cry quittance with him. But what thinkest best we should do, Dorias? Dorias. Touching the wench d'ye mean. Pyth. Yes, it't be best To utter or conceal't. Dorias If you be wise, Know aught, know nought, touching the Eunuch self, Or her abuse: so shall you keep from blame; And do her a good turn. You may say only, Dorus is run away. Pyth. I'll e'en do so. Enter Chremes. Dorus. But see I not Chremes vonder? Thais straight Will be here with us. Pyth. Wherefore think you so? Dorias. Because when I came thence, they grew to brawl. Pyth. Bear in the jewels: I'll of him learn all. Exit Dorias. Chr. ay, ay, assure as heaven, I was but played on. The wine over wrought me: yet while I was sitting methought I was exceedingly well tempered, but rising found both feet and brains to sail Pyth. Chremes. Chr. Who's that? Oh Pythias how much Fairer Now seemst thou then erewhile. Pyth. You in good sooth Are pleasanter by fair. Chr. 'tis true and old, Spare wine and dainties, sportful lusts grows cold. Is't long, since Thais came? Pyth. Hath she already Then left the soldier? Chr. oh yes long age. And there has been great falling out between 'em. Pyth. Did she say nothing, you should follow her? Chr. Nothing, but at her parting winked on me. Pyth. What, was not that sufficient Item man. Chr. I knew not that the meant so much, but that The soldier helped my dull conceiving her; Enter Thais. For out o'doores he thrust me: see where she is I marvel where it was, I over went her. Scen. 6. Thais I guess he will be here straight, with intent To take her from me; let him come on then: But if he lay on little singer on her, I'll claw his eyes out. I can so far bear His fopperies, and swollen bombasted words Whilst that they be but words: come they to deeds once, I'll ferret him. Chr. I was here long since Thais. Thais. Oh Chremes, I looked for you. Know you not That all this brabble hath been about you? Chr. Me? how? as if I broached it? Tha. Yes because While I do seek to render to your hands Your long lost sister, this ensued thereon. Chr. Where's that my sister? Tha. Here at home with me. Chr. Ha! Tha. Why what's the matter? Shee'has been Brought up As fits herself and you. Chr. What is't you say? Thais. That which is truth: freely give her you. Demanding nothing at your hands for her. Chr. I give and owe you Thais many thanks As you have well deserved. Tha. But beware Chremes, you lose her not, ere you receive her: For this is she the soldier comes to get By main force from me. Pythias get you in, And fetch the little coffer with the tokens: Chr. Do you see him coming Thais? Pyth. Mistress Where is it? Tha. i'th' leathern hamper: mak'st thou no more haste quean? Chr. What forces does he bring with him? oh me. Exit Pythias. Tha. Are you afraid friend? Chr A way, I afraid? No man alive less. Tha. I 'tis fit you be not. Chr. T'sh, I do doubt what man you take me for. Tha. No, but consider, he you are to deal with Is a mere stranger, of less means, less known, Less friended here then you. Chr. All this I know: But yet 'tis folly to admit an evil Which may be well prevented. I had rather, We seek aforehand to prevent a wrong, Than to return a suffered injury. Do you get in; and then make fast your doors; Whilst I haste over to the market place. I will have some assistants by, i'th' tumult. Tha. Stay. Chr. 'tis the safest course. Tha. Pray stay. Chr. Pray leave. I'll be here straight again. Tha. Chremes this needs not, Acquaint him only that she is your sister, Enter Pythias with a Coffer. Which you a small girl lost; and now do know her: Show him the proving tokens. Pyth. Here they are. Tha. Here take 'em, if he offer violence, Summon him to the law: conceive you me? Chr. Yes very well. Tha. See you utter it with courage. Chr. I warrant you. Tha. Pull up your cloak there, to you. I'm in a fair case: why, this man I make My Champion, needs another him to back. Scen. 7. Enter Traso, Gnato, Sanga, with three others. Thra. Brook such a base affront? I'll die first, Gnato. Simatio, Donax, and Syriscus follow: The house I'll first dismantle— Gna. Aright course. Thra. Take thence the maid my hostage— Gna. Very Good. Thra. Make Thais feel my vengeance— Gna. Excellent. Thra. Donax come you here hither with your lever, Into the heart of my battalion: Simatio fall you there on the left wing. Wheel you about Syriscus to the right. Draw out some more: where's Sanga the Centurion With's band of the black guard. Sang. Here ready Captain. Thra. Where are thy arms drone? wilt thou enter fight With thy mop there? that thou hast brought it hither? Sang. sir I but know the courage of my Chieftain, Or soldier's fury, that the day would cost Much blood shed, brought it here to cleanse the gore. Thra. Where are the rest there? San. what (a murrain) rest? Samnio alone keeps home, to look to th'house. Thra. Do you rank these; I'll march behind the Van. Gna. Note sirs his wisdom! having ranked the rest, Himself retireth to safe place for shelter. Thr. 'Twas Pyrthus usual practice. Chr. Thais, see you What he intends? that sure's the safest way, To lock up doors. Tha. This fellow (I assure thee) Thou deemest a man of spirit is a gull; A pure great goosecap: ne'er make doubt of him. Thra. What thinks thou Gnato. Gna. I could wish you had A sling stone here, to gall 'em a loose off: They'd straight forsake their Castle. Thra But I see Thais herself. Gna. Let's straight rush in upon them. Thra. Forbear: A discreet general should cast To win his aims by treaty, ere he put The hazard unto battle. How dost know But she may do my biddings, uncompelled? Gna. Oh you good Gods! what 'tis to be distreeter I ne'er come to you, but I do depart Much bettered in my judgement. Thra. Thais, first Answer me this, when I bestowed on you, The maid, assure you not your company To me for certain days. Tha. Well, what o''at? Thra. Askest thou what? that broughst before mine eyes Thy lover? (what hast thou to do with him?) And with him sneakest from me? Tha. It was my pleasure. Thra. Restore now therefore Pamphila, unless You'll have me force her from you. Chr. How, to thee Restore her? or dar'st thou lay hands on her? Thou? of all— Gna. Have care good sir, you know not What kind of man you speak so grossly to. Chr. Will you get hence? know you how stands your case? If you disturb us here, I'll give you cause To think upon this time, this place, and me: Whilst you have day to live; Gna. I pity you, That seek to make so great a man your so. Chr. I'll crack your crown sir if you get not hence. Gna. How whelp, what sayst? Thr. Why what art thou? What mean'st? What business hast thou with her? Chr. Thou shalt know First I affirm the maiden is free borne. Thr. How? Chr. Free of Athens. Thra. Hoida! Chr. And my sister. I therefore now forewarn thee soldier, Thou use no force against her. Thais, He go And fetch her Nurse Sophrona hither straight; And show her these remembrances. Thra. Dost thou Forewarn me that I should not touch my own? Chr. I say I do forewarn thee. Gna. hear you sir, You have good action of deceit against him. Chr. Said I enough? Thra. Say you so Thais too? Exit Chremes. Tha. Seek one to answer. Thra. What's our course Now Gnato? Exit Thais. Gna. Why let's retreat: she'll straight come after you, Crouching and kneeling. Thra. Thinkst so? Gna. Nay That's sure. I am acquainted with these women's humours: Sue, they are squeamish; if you keep off, they sue. Thra. Thou deemest aright. Gna. Shall I dismiss the Army? Thra. ay, when thou please. Gna. Sanga, as fits good soldiers, Cast now your eyes back on the household chimneys Sang. My mind was long ago among the platters Gna. thouart careful, Thra. All follow me this way in. Exeunt all. Act. 5. Scen. 1. Enter Thais and Pythias. Tha. COntinuest drab to talk in riddles to me? I know, I know not, heard so, he is gone, I was not by—. Wilt thou not in plain terms Tell me the matter? the maid's clothes are torn, She weeps and silent keeps, the Eunuch gone. Why this? what's chanced? speakest not? Pyth. Woes me Poor soul! What should I say? they say he was no Eunuch. Tha. who then? Pyth. This Chaerea here. Tha. which Chaerea? Pyth. This younger brother unto Phaedria. Tha. What sayst witch? Pyth. I have found it certain so. Tha. Why what a God's name had he here to do? Or why was hither brought? Pyth. I cannot tell, But that I guess he loved Pamphila. Tha. I find myself accursed wretch undone, If this be true thou utterst. Is't for that, The wench so weeps? Pyth. I think so. Tha. Thinkst so hegge? Was this the charge I left you at my parting? Pyth. What should I do? I left 'him both alone As you did bid. Tha. Unlucky quean, thou left's A lamb to the wolf: oh I am ashamed, Enter Chaerea in the eunuch's clothes. So to be played on. What man have we here? Pyth. Mistress, for God's love peace; we are well W'have caught The man. Tha. Where is he? Pyth. Look to your left hand. Do you not see him? Tha. Yes. Pyth. Call out for help; To lay hold on him with all speed you can. Tha. What shall's do with him fool? Pyth. What do, D'you ask? Pray mark if when you wistlie eye the fellow, Has not a a shameless leer? Tha. No, has he not. Pyth. Note with what confidence my man struts too. Scen. 2. Chae. AS I but now to Antipho's did come, His father and his mother were at home; As if't had been so plotted so that in I could not enter butt I must be seen. Whilst here about the door a while I stay, One that I knew came but into my way: I him espying hastily betook Me to my heels; and fled into a nook Was unfrequented: so from place to place Posted, till I to death nigh wearied was: And this I did, lest any should me know. But is not this Thais, I see? 'tis she: I stick i'th' mire; nor know I what to do. But what care I? what dare she do to me? Tha. Let's to him. O, you are well met honest Dorus. Tell me, didst run away? Chae. Mistress I did. Tha. And was it well done, thinkst thou? Chae. no forsooth. Tha. Thinkst to go with't scot free so away? Chae. Forgive me but this one fault, if I ever Commit the like again, then kill me for't. Tha. Didst fear my curstness? Chae. No. Tha. What fearedst thou then? Chae. I feared your maid here would tell tales of me. Tha. What hadst thou done? Chae. A trifle. Pyth. Impudence A trifle? is't a trifle in thine eye To take a freeborn maid, and ravish her? Chae. I took her for my fellow servant. Pyth. Fellow? I scarce can hold my singers from his ears. Monster art come again, to flout us too? Tha. Get you hence Bedlam. Pyth. Pray forsooth, why so? I think I owed the gallows, if I do As I do threaten; and the rather too, Because he does confess he's slave to you. Tha. No more of this. Chaerea, you have committed An act fair unbeseeming that fair port yourself and friends here bear; say the scorn fitted And to my course of life did justly sort: Yet for your own worth you should have forborn. Nor truly know I now what course to frame Touching the maid; you have disordered so All my proceedings, I cannot return Her to her friends, as I desired the same; And as was fitting for the maid to go: So that both maid and friends I might have made Beholding to me, by the course I laid. Chae. Thais, but now I hope henceforth will grow Fast love between us: oftentimes you know From bad beginnings, slight occasion, Great love hath had its derivation. What, if some higher powers did thus decree? Tha. In such sense I do take it verily; And so do wish't. Chae. Pray one thing reckon right No purposed scorn, but loves imperial might Then swayed my passions. Tha. I believe 'twas so; And truly therefore pardon you the rather: I am not (Chaerea) of such stubborn nature, Nor so unskilled as love's power not to know. Chae. So help me God as I now grow in love With you to Thais. Pyth. Then mistress I perceive You ought to watch him. Chae. O, I dare not prove. Pyth. Introth le trust thee for just nothing. Tha. Leave. Chae. Thais, I do commend, commit myself To your protection; beg your help herein; Desire, beseech you'll stand my Patroness. I cannot live if I not marry her. Tha. But if your father— Chae Tsh, what? I know he will— So she be known freeborn. Chae. If you please stay A little, the maid's brother will be here; He went to call the nurse that nursed her young: You may be by at her acknowledging. Chae. Yes, I will stay. Tha. And in the mean time will You. (Till he do come) we go into my house? 'tis better than at door here waiting stand. Cha. With all my heart. Pyth. Pray what d'ye mean to do? Tha. In what? Pyth. D'you ask? mean you for all this yet To let him come again into the house? Tha. Why not? Pyth. Take my word for't, he'll adventure Some second battery. Tha. Prithee hold thy chat. Pyth. Ha'you not had sufficient trial of him? Chae. I will not, Pythias. Pyth. I'll not trust you, Chaerea. Unless you be kept out. Chae. But (Pythias) thyself shalt be my keeper Pyth. Troth not I: I'll neither trust thee with the custody Of any thing, not keep thee yet myself. Enter Chremes and Sophrona, So get you hence. Tha. Her brother's fitly come. Chae. I'm lost, pray let us in, I would not (Thais) He see me in this habit in the street. Tha. Why, art ashamed? Chae. Yes truth. Pyth. Yes truth? alack! A maiden bachelor I warrant you. Tha. Go in before, I follow. Pythias Tarry you here, to bring in Chremes with you. Exeunt Chaerea and Thais. Scen. 3. Pyth. WHat, can I think of no plot, no device, No trick to erie quittance with this rascal? That foisted in this counterfeit among us? Chae. Pray move your joints a little nimbler ruise. Soph. I moan sir. Chae. ay, I see't; but nothing forward. Pyth. Have you yet shown the tokens to her sir? Chae. Yes, all. Pyth. What says she, pray? remembers them? Chae. Yes perfectly. Pyth. In troth you bring good news, For I do wish the maid well. Pray go in; Exit Chremes and Sophrona My mistress long since did expect your coming. Enter Parmeno. But see the honest fellow Parmeno, I think I have found a trick to nettle him, As I would wish. I'll first go in and hear The maid's acknowledgement; and again come forth To fright the rogue with a fine penny worth. Exit Pythias. Scen. 4. Par. I Now scout out, to see what Chaerea has done: Who if he have the business cleanly handled, Good gods! What glorious palm have I then won? For to omit, that I a cafeintangled Have wound out fairly to his hand; have wrought, Have compassed his love, his wench, a maid He so did dote on: and yet cost him nought, (No purse expense, no trouble, hazard made;) And from a greedy harlot. Then again Enter Pythias. (Which I indeed account my Master's prize) That I have found him out a ready mean, To learn these strumpet's manners and full guise: Which ripely understood, he may for ever Detest their courses: when abroad they get, None are more neat and sweet in their behaviour, They mince and pick upon each dainty bit; (With their friend eating such is their demeanour.) And then to note their greedy ravening, Their sluttishness, their penury at home; What nasty Cormorants they are alone; Out of stale porridge musty bread devouring: These things are youths true cordials being known. Scen. 5. Pyth. rogue for thy deeds & words I'll plague thee so. Thou shalt not for our wrongs hence scot-free go. Your mercy oh good gods 'oh cruel practice! Alas poor youth! but o that cursed villain! That villain Parmeno, that brought him hither! Par. What may the matter be? Pyth. It pities me; Therefore I hasted out o' doors, poor woman: Because I would not see't. Oh, what example (Say thee) they do intend to make of him? Par. o God! What strange stir's this? am not I lost, trow? I'll to her. What means this flight, Pythias? Pyth. Dost ask audacious fellow? whilst thou soughtst To put a trick upon us, thouhast undone, Hast utterly undone that pretty youth, Thou broughtest us for an Eunuch. Par. why, what's chanced? Pyth. Dost know the maid was sent us is free borne? And has a brother here of great account? Par. I know't not. Pyth. But she's proved so: this poor youth Has ravished her; which when her brother heard of. Coming in furious heat— Par. What did he do? Pyth. First piteously has bound him. Par. Ha, has Bound him? Pyth. ay, although Thais begged the contrary. Par. What sayst Pyth. And now he further threatneth To use him in such sort, as is the wont To be performed upon adulterers. Par. Upon what confidence dare he venture So heinous an attempt? Pyth. Why, is 't so heinous? Par. Is't not the heinousest that can be thought on? whoever saw any one apprehended For an adulterer in a bawdy house? Pyth. I know not that. Par. But that thou mayst know't I tell thee (Pythias) 'tis my Master's son. Prth. What, is't I pray? Par. Therefore let Thais look then, She suffer him sustain no injury. But why do I myself not receive him? Pyth. Parmeno consider what you go about. Lest you not help him, and yet cast away yourself forever. For they do imagine That all is done is of your practising. Enter the all man, Lacher. Par. What shall I do then wretch? or what contrive. But lo, I see my old Master newly come Out o'the country: were I best acquaint him What is befallen or not? I'll tell him, sure; Though I do know, I shall pay soundly for it. But I must do't, that he may help his son. Pyth. ay, thou dost wisely. I'll go in. Deline. Every thing to him, as it chanced in order. Scen. 6. Lach. MY Country grange yields this commodity, I find no irksomeness in field, or city: I can shift place, being of either weary. But is not yond our Parmeno? 'tis he. Who wait you here for before Thais door? Par. Who's that's oh Master 'you are welcome home. Lach. Who waitest thou here for? Par. I'm undone, my Tongue Falters for scare. Lach. How's this? why shak'st thou so? Tell me, 's all well here? Par. Master first I crave You would conceive the matter as it stands: That whatsoe'er hath happened, hath not come Through any fault of mine. Lach. Say, what it is? Par. Indeed you urge the question orderly: I should have first opened the cause to you. Phaedria bought an Eunuch to bestow upon her here Lach. Upon whom here? Par. Thais. Lach. Bought sayst thou? I am certainly undone. What cost he? Par. twenty pound. Lach. All's lost. Par. Chaerea does love a minstrel wench here. Lach. Ha! Besides What, loves sayst thou? does he already know What a whore means? is he got to town too? One mischief brood's another. Par. Pray you sir Do not so eye me. This he does not do upon my setting on. Lach. Sirtha, leave talk Touching thyself. If I live (pillory) I'll but unfold first th' whole business to me. Par. Chaerea was brought to Thais for that Eunuch. Lach. How! for an Eunuch? Par. Yes sir, afterward They have taken him for an adulterer; And bound him. Lach. Oh, I'm undone for ever. Par. Pray note (good sir) these strumpet's insolence. Lach. Is there yet any further mischief left, Or ill unuttered. Par. This is all. Lach. Why stay I From breaking in upon 'em? Par. There's no doubt But I incur some famous punishment: But since I must do't of necessity, I joy yet I shall work these queans some mischief. For th'old man long hath sought occasion To plague 'em soundly: now at last has found one. Enter Pythias. Scen. 7. Pyth. TRroth for this many aday there has not chanced An accident more pleasant than this now; To see the old man come in so mistaken: 'T was sport to me alone of all the rest, Who knew the ground of th' error. ha, ha, he. Par. What is't she laughs at? Pyth. I'm come forth to With Parmeno, but where a God's name is he? Par. does she seek me? Pyth. See where he is, I'll to him meet Par What news with thee now Giglet? Pyth. Ha, ha, he. Par. What meanst thou? why this laughter? goest thou on? Pyth. Ha, ha, ha, he. Oh-oh-I burst, I faint With laughing at thee. Par. Wherefore? Pyth. dost thou ask? Upon my troth I never in my life Knew a more errand fool, nor ever shall. Ha, ha, ha, he— it cannot be expressed What pastime thou hast made us yond within: And yet (good truth) at first I took thee for A very wise and cunning pated fellow. Par. Why what's the matter? Pyth. What at the first dash Oughtst thou to credit every thing I said? What didst thou think the brave exploit too little, The rash youth ventured through thy setting on; unless thou further didst discover him unto his father? prithee, tell me one thing; What thinkst thou Cherea thought, when now his father Found him so fine dressed in an eunuch's habit? How is't? seest thou yet, thou art ripe for hanging? Par. How? what sayst thou pestilent quean, didst lie then? Pyth. Ha, ha, ha, he. Par. And keep'st a laughing still too? Thinkst thou 'tis such fine pastime (harlotry) To make a scorn of me? Pyth. o yes; sport a life. Par ay, if perchance thou carry't away, scotfree. Pyth Indeed la? Par. I'll cry quittance o' my credit. Pyth. Yes sure. We shall have, time yet, Parmeno: For thee, thou art to be trussed up presently; Who fleshest heedless youth in villainy And then betray'st him to discovery. Father and son will both make thee an example. Par. I am a dead man. Pyth. Look you 'this you've got For the Eunuch you late ushered home to us. Exit Pythias. Farewell. Par. Unlucky I am caught just like a rat, Traced by my noise, mine own unheedy chart Enter thraso and Gnato. Scen. 8. Gna. WHat do we now? on what hopes? or with what Purpose Do we come hither? what intend you Traso? Thr. Who, I to yield myself to Thais mercy, Do all she shall enjoin. Gna. What is't you say? Thr. Why Hesse, than the valiant Hercules, Who condescended to serve 〈◊〉? Gna. I like the precedent Would I yet might see Her crack your crown once with her pantofle. Enter Chaerea. What news? her door opes. Thr. what new mischief's this? I ne'er saw this man yet: what may it mean, That he comes forth so hastily and jocund? Scen. 9. Chae. OH loving countrymen, lives any man More happy than myself? troth, I think none The Gods have shown all their full might on me, On whom so suddenly so many chances, So many prosperous chances meet in one. Par. Why is he grown so merry? Gnae. Oh my dearest, My kindest Parmeno 'first fashioner, Contriver, finisher, of all my fortunes; All my contentments. Knowest thou Parmeno What joy I am in? hearest thou my Pamphila Is found to be free borne? Par. Yes; I have heard so. Chae. Made sure to me? Par. As God shall help me, I'm Glad on't. Gna. do y' hear him what he says? Chae. I joy beside My brother Chedria's love is now fair settled: W''re made one house; Thais hath given up herself Unto my father's kindness and protection: she's now our own. Par. Then she is all your brothers. Chae. That's most certain. Par. Then (that's other cause The soldier is cashiered hence. Chae. now I prithee (of joy) Give thou my brother notice of this news, Where ere he may be found; and speedily. Par. I'll seek for him at home. Thr. Dost thou now Gnato Make any doubt, but I am lost for ever? Gna. Sure I judge so Chae. What should I first count on? Whom chiefly praise? or him that counselled me Or yet myself that ventured the performance? Or shall I not yield fortune share of praise, Which guided these things thus? Which in one day Hath closed up so many, so great things, And all so timely ordered? or the easy And pleasant disposition of my father? Oh I beseech thee, gracious Jupiter. Continue to us this our happiness Enter Phaedria. Phae. Your faith good Gods! What things above belief Hath our man told me? but where is my brother? Cha. Here. Pha. I am led— Chae. I well believe you, brother There is none living more deserving love Then this your Thais: she's a furtherer To all our family Pha. Why, how now brother, Commendest thou her to me? Thr. I am undone: The lesser hope I have, the more I love. Help Gnato at a pinch; my trust's in thee. Gna. What would you have me do? Thr. Win by entreaty, By money. I may hold some place near Thais. Gna. 'tis a hard task. Thr. Come, I know thee Gnato. If once thou undertakest a thing— work this, And name but what reward or gift thou'lt have And thou shalt have't. Gna. Say you so? Thr. ay, and will Perform it. Gna. If I perform it, I require your house Do ever open rest at my command, Be you within or not: that though unbidden I still have room and welcome given me Thra Here is my hand thou shalt. Gna. Then I will settle To the attempt. Phae. Whom hear I here? o Thraso! Thra. God save you. Phae. Thou perhaps hear'st not the News? Thra Yes, I know all. Phae. Why do I see you then Here in these quarters? Thr. Sir as resting only Upon your love. Phae. Know'st thou not, what to rest on? I tell thee soldier, if I here hence forward Do take thee in this street; thouart a dead man: It will avail you little then to say You sought some man, or were to pass this way. Gna. Nay good sir this not fitteth. Phae. I have said it. Gna. I know you are not of such boisterous temper. Phae. It shall so stand. Gna. Pray yet first give me hearing Of a few words; which when I shall have said As you do like it, grant it. Phae. Well, let's hear. Gna. Thraso remove yourself a little of. First I most earnestly request you both Thus far to credit me; that what herein I do, is chiefly for my own sake meant: But if the same may likewise further you, 'twere simpleness in you not to admit it. Phae. What is't? Gna. I think fit, you take unto you This rival soldier. Phae. How sayst? take him to us? Gna. Pray but consider this; you Phaedria Do surely love your Thais company, And to fare well: little you have to give her, And she of force must be supplied largely. Now then to serve her turn, and spare your cost, There's none can be more fitting, or more useful Than is this soldier: first has where withal, And then there's none more lavish the's a fool A prating babbling fool, a dolt, a block, will snore you out whole days, and nights together. And for the fear that she may hap to love him, That's needless: you may pelt him out at pleasure: Phae. What were we best to do? Gna. Then add this too; (Which I account a thing of greatest moment.) None fares more richly, none more daintily. Phae. Its mar'le but we have need at any hand Of this same fellow. Chae. That's my judgement too. Gna. You take the right course. One thing more I beg, I may be made one of your company: I have been long now rolling of this stone. Phae. We admit thee. Chae. Yes, and freely. Gna. Phaedria, And haeria in requital, 'twixt you both I tender him to flout, and feed upon. Chae. We like it. Phae. He deserves it. Gna. Thraso, now You may draw near at pleasure. Thra. Gnato, say How stands my case? Gna. How? these men knew you not After I told, hem your conditions, Praised you according to your deeds and virtues; I won my suit. Thra. It was well done, I thank thee I never yet could come in any place But all men doted on me. Gna. Said I not: How graceful was his tongue for eloquence? Phae. Thou left'st out nothing. Pass we this way hence. Exeunt all but Gnato. Addition. Epilogue by Gnato. AThens and Rome full many ages hence Have through Menander's, Plautus, lerence's Art (In several names but sounding to one sense) Seen this our Eunuch, graced the flatterer's part. Those Greek and Latin plays had their desert, Earning loud plaudits from their audience. Our English Author (h'has no Poets name, Nor (says he) may he dare such style to take) Puts me upon the brunt to stand the blame: Himself not venturing his approach to make, Nor to your censure his raw skill to stake. He thinks me now wrought, past all fear and shame. But I the name and nature here cast off: I see amongst you no proud soldier, No self blown bladder, I may prick or scoff. Our Nation is not guilty of the former, Nor could I well play the flatterer: No mail if I the name now seek to doss Yet though I doss the fawn; still bend I low, Craving your gentle pardon for us all, And thank you for your patience hitherto So kindly shown to us in general. Oh, would you deign some further grace withal Upon our swooning writer to bestow; He dies in fear lest you mislike his pain, Your well clapped hands call him to life again. FINIS Faults escaped in Andria. PAge 1. l 3. I think, r. Sir think. p. 2. l. 20. one some, 1. some one. p. 8 l. 23. roundabouts, r. windeabouts. p. 9. l. 25. nothing, r. noting. p, 36. l. 1. now I, r. I. l. 16. leave the course, r. I leave. p. 39 l. 6. this the, r. 'tis the p. 17. l. 22. ought, r. oft. p. 49. O Charinus, r. who's that Oh Charinus. Eunuch. Argument l. 56 hath down, r. hath set down. Char. of Au. l. 7 straggling, r. struggling. Pro. l. 64. plays, r. play. Ac. 1. S. 1. l. 10. not one, r. one. between 14 and 15 line, put in this verse, You are cast in Law, you may go shake the care. l. 29 she it. r. she yet. l 32. shall allay, r. she'll allay, S. 2. l. 87 lovely woman, r. lonely woman. l. 88. kinsmen, 1. kinsman. l. 112. and Eu. an Eu. l. 113. great Ladies have, r. great Ladies only have. Act. 2. Sc. 3. l. vlt. his soldiers, r. the soldiers Sc. 5. l. 70. I wormeling, r. I a wormeling l. 99 whom, r. home. Ac 4 Sc. 2 l 3 aught, r. oft. l. 10. torn, r. turn. l. 12. be pent, r. here be pent. Sc. 3. l. 35. and accident, r. an accident l. 68. i● be, r. if 't be. l. 7. Simatio & Sannto, r. Simatio and Sannto l. 14. but, r. that. l. 15. or Soldiers, r. our soldier's l. 27. thinks, r. Thinkst l. 39. assure, r. assured. Act. 5. sc. 1. l. 19. lest 'him. read, left 'em. pag. 104. l. 6. he cause. read, case, l. 18. Ile-but, r. I'll—, But.