Enter PAMPHILUS.

PAMPHILUS.

WHAT unjust judges fathers all are towards their children;
Pretending to us as they do that the moment we cease to be boys
We ought to become thorough old men, without a trace
Of the inclinations natural to our time of life:
Governing us by the rule of their present appetites,
And not by those they have lost. If ever I have a son,
He will find me an easy father, able to understand
His faults, I hope, and ready to make allowance for them:
Not like mine, suspicious & cross—& he never speaks
But to read me a lecture on somebody else. Why, bless my soul,
If he has but taken an extra glass or two, the tales
Of his own wickedness he’ll come out with! And then he says,
By others’ faults wise men correct their own. What wisdom!
He little thinks how deaf an adder he is trying to charm.
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At present the words of my mistress touch me nearer far,
When she says, Give me this, or, Bring me that; and I
Have nothing to answer. Nobody could be in a worse plight.
This fellow Clinia here has his hands full, yet his mistress
Is modest & well brought up, too gentle & innocent
To trifle with affection. Mine is a fine lady, exacting,
Vain, fashionable & extravagant; & I lack the means
To please her fancy. This misfortune is new to me—
An experience, which I have only just begun to learn:
And as yet my father guesses nothing of it.

Enter Clinia.

CLINIA.

If all were well,
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They must have been here before: I fear there’s something happened,
Or that in my absence she may have become estranged from me.
Pam. What now, man?
Clin.O, I am most unhappy.
Pam.You had best take care,
Or some one coming out of your father’s house may see you.
Clin. I will; but, Pamphilus, I have a strong presentiment
Of some misfortune, I know not what.
Pam.Why, what’s the matter?
Clin. Were nothing the matter, they certainly would have been here by this.
Pam. Nonsense. Doesn’t it strike you it’s some way off? and then
You know how it is with women, they are always about a year
Putting on their things and getting themselves up.
530
Clin. But only fancy if really she should have forgotten me!
Yes,—while like a fool I ran away from home,
And wandered I know not where, fall’n in deep disgrace,
Undutiful to my father, for whom I am now sorry
And ashamed of my conduct towards him;—thou, yes, O thou hast
Deserted me, my Antiphila. What shall I do?
Pam.Look, look!
I see them coming.
Clin.Where?
Pam.Well, here’s Philolaches,
Who comes to announce them, (aside) and on his shoulders a mighty bale
Of Persian togs.

Enter Philolaches with a large bundle.

Clin.He has come without them! (To Phil.) Tell me, sir,
Do the ladies come?

PHILOLACHES.

They follow; I come before,
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Because there’s not a woman in Athens would walk with me
Carrying such a bundle along the public streets.
(Sets bundle down.)
I was almost ashamed of myself.
Clin.But does she know I am here?
Ph. Or else had never come.
Clin.You have actually seen her then?
Ph. I’ll tell you all I saw. The business was, I think,
To discover if she was true?
Clin.It was. Indeed I feared—
Ph. Then I have discovered it for you.
Clin.If you have really done so,
Tell me your news at once.
Ph.Attend. When first I came
To the house, I knocked. Out came an old woman and opened the door;
I struck past her into the room. Of all the ways
550
Of finding out how she has been living all these months,
This suddenly breaking in on her was the best: this gave me
A pretty good guess at her usual way of spending the time:
There’s nothing like it for showing what people really are.
I came upon her hard at work at her tapestry,
Dressed in a common gown: no gold about her; none
Of the rouge and powder, that women bedaub their faces with:
She was dressed like those who dress for themselves: her hair was loose
And pushed back carelessly from her face—
Clin.Go on, I pray.
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Ph. The old woman was spinning the woof: one servant girl besides
Wove with her, quite in rags, untidy and dirty.
Pam.Now,
If this is true, I see you are safe. You would not find
The servant a slattern, where there’s a lover.
Clin.Pray go on.
Ph. When I told her that you were returned, and had sent for her.
She suddenly stopped in her work; the tears ran down her cheeks
In such a way, it was easy to see ’twas for love of you.—
Clin. Perdition take me now, if I know where I am for joy.
I was so afraid.
Pam.And Gorgo is coming?
Ph.Ay, no fear.
But don’t forget who’s who.
Pam.And have you taught the ladies
Their parts?
Ph. Antiphila’s part is nothing to learn at all;
Except she must not call your friend by his right name:
But Gorgo—
Pam.What?
Ph.Why she was hard to persuade, but once
Persuaded, I do not fear her. I am more afraid of you;
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Don’t you forget that she doesn’t belong to you, mind! The slip
Of a word might ruin all. And don’t make signs.
Pam.Trust me.
See here they come.
Clin.I see them.
Ph.Stay; let us stand aside;
And watch them till they see us.
Clin.Why now?
Ph.I say, stand back.

(They retire.)

Enter Gorgo and Antiphila.

GORGO.

Upon my word, my dear Antiphila, I do praise
And envy you too, when I see how all your study has been
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To make your mind as charming and sweet as your face. Lord love you!
I’m not surprised at any one wanting to marry you.
I see from what you’ve said what kind of person you are;
And when I come to think of the sort of life, which you
And people like you, lead, who keep admirers off
At arms’-length, then no wonder, I say, that you shd be
Just what you are, and others, like me, so different.
Then once your mind made up to share and spend your days
With the man whose disposition is most congenial to you,
He never leaves you more: for mutual benefits
Must bind you so closely, that no misfortune can ever come
To cross your love.

ANTIPHILA.

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I cannot tell what others do;
But I know I always have wished, and done my best, to find
My happiness in what pleased him.
Clin. (aside). Ah, my Antiphila,
And that is why I love you, why I am now returned.
Gor. Who is that young man who is standing to look at us?
Ant. Ah, hold me up!
Gor.Why, what in the world’s the matter, my dear?
Ant. I shall die; I shall die.
Gor.Do say, what is it astonishes you?
Ant. Is it Clinia I see or not?
Gor.See who?
Clin.’Tis I, my dearest.
Ant. My long-expected Clinia, it is you.
Clin.Are you well?
Ant. Oh, I am glad you have come back safe.
Clin.Do I hold thee,
Antiphila, thou most desired of my heart!
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Ph.Take care.
Remember. Here comes the old man.

(Takes up the bundle.)

Enter Chremes from his house.

CHREMES.

I thought so; here you are.
I heard your voices. I welcome you all. How very nice!
Now, Pamphilus, pray present me!
Pam. (presenting Gorgo).This is the lady, sir.
My father, miss.
Chr. (aside). She is handsomely dressed. (To Gorgo) I am very proud
To make your acquaintance. I hope the day may be fortunate.
’Twas kind of you now to come.
Gor.Why, bless your heart, old man,
I thank ye: but all the same I came to please myself.
Chr. (aside). My word!
Pam.And this is the lady she brings with her.
Chr. (to Antiphila).Ah, good-day.
You are welcome, welcome all. Again, good Clitipho.
Philolaches, I think. Good-day to you, sir! My word!
What a gigantic bundle!
Ph.Ay.
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Chr.What can it be?
Ph. The ladies’ cloaks and wraps.
Chr.Shame to load you thus!
You know the proverb, The willing horse. Pray set them down.
I’ll send a servant to take them.
Ph.Nay, ’tis the merest trifle.
Chr. Why, yes: and I’ll call my wife: excuse me, ladies—a moment.
[Goes into house calling.
Sostrata, Sostrata!...
Pam. (to Ph.). Follow me quick: this way, before my father is back.

[Exeunt Pam. and Phil. into house at back.

Clin. You know why I am returned?
Ant.Nay, you must tell me first
What made you go away.
Clin.I could not help it, love;
My father—
Ant.O, I know; but is he not kinder now?
Clin. Nay, I’m afraid he is not.

Re-enter Chremes with servant.

620
Chr.Ladies, my wife’s within.
She begs you’ll enter. Why! & where is Philolaches?
Clitipho, pray go in—no ceremony, sir—
And take this lady with you. I follow.
Clin.I thank you, sir.

[Exeunt Clinia and Antiphila with servant within.

Chr. (to Gorgo). With you I beg one word of explanation alone,
Ere we go in—one word—
Gor.I wait your pleasure, sir.
Chr. I do not wish to seem to meddle in your affairs.
Gor. No matter for that.
Chr.Believe me, that, if I interfere,
It is for your good.
Gor.I know, sir, and thank you very kindly.
Chr. I broach the matter at once; my maxim has always been,
Straight to the business.
Gor.Well, I don’t dislike you for that.
631
Chr. Then am I not right in thinking you have never so much as met
Old Menedemus?
Gor.No.
Chr.You have not?
Gor.No.
Chr.Stay. Perhaps
You don’t know who I mean.
Gor.He’s whatdyecallem’s father.
Chr. (aside). Whatdyecallem! well!—He is Clinia’s father; yes.
Gor. What of him?
Chr.Why ’tis thus. (aside) What was I going to say?
Gor. Go on, sir.
Chr.Ay, the long and the short of the matter is this.
I know your story—let me see—do I know your name?
Gor. Gorgo.
Chr.Ay, to be sure. Well, Gorgo, I know your story,
But do not charge on you the unhappy consequence
640
Of a rash attachment. No. Young men will be young men,
And women are—women; no blame to them. But the fact is this:
That being on intimate terms with Clinia’s family,
I have been entrusted by them, as one unprejudiced,
To enquire, to judge & advise, and, if I can, to find
A Modus vivendi: you, Gorgo, of course are well aware
That your lover, whose absence has had no doubt its effect on you—
That Clinia’s running away from home, I say, was due
To his father’s disapproval of your attachment: that
Gave rise to disagreement; and Clinia, balancing
’Twixt love & duty, fled from home, & is now abroad,
Madly risking his life in Asia. Why do you laugh?
Gor. Indeed, sir, I was not laughing.
Chr.The shock this gave his father
Betrayed at last the affection he really bore his son:
It measures too the mischief—shows his purpose too,
And strong determination. He sold his house in town,
Retired from life & pleasure—bought a farm out here,
And works upon it from morning till night like a common drudge.
There’s nothing to laugh at.
Gor.Excuse me, sir, I was only thinking
Of something very ridiculous.
Chr.Attend. ’Tis you have caused
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This quarrel: you have alienated father and son.
Not only that; but it lies with you, and you alone,
That one is risking his life in wild & barbarous wars,
The other is taking leave of his senses as fast as he can.
Think of this happy family life thus broken up,
Which may be never renewed. Suppose that Clinia
Be slain in the wars, and his father brought by grief to his grave—
Should not this make you serious?
Gor. He! he! he!
Chr.Your trifling manner, miss,
Causes me much distress.
Gor.I am very nervous, sir,
Your solemn way of talking alarms me, and when alarmed,
I always laugh. He! he! he!
Chr.Well, try and contain yourself, I pray.
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I asked you here to my house the better to judge of you.
Gor. Ha! ha! ha!
Chr. Well, well, I see you are merry. I would not check your mirth,
And yet I cannot see what cause you have to laugh.
Still ’tis a feast with us. I bade you join the feast:
Be merry to-day.
Gor.Ha! ha! I will, sir.

Re-enter Pamphilus and Philolaches.

Chr. (aside).By luck, here’s Pamphilus—
(To Gor.) See, here is my son: go in: I’ll speak with you soon again.
Gor. What time do you dine?
Chr.At five.
Gor.Is the bath made hot?
Chr. (aside).My word!
What a woman!—I’ll call my wife to attend you within.
Gor. I thank you. I’ll take the bath.

(Going indoors.)

Chr. (aside to Pam.). O Pamphilus, Pamphilus,
[Exit Chremes with Gorgo.
What have you done? Such a woman as this to dine in my house.
Pam. By jove, Philolaches; here’s a dilemma now:
682
I never thought of it.
Ph.What?
Pam.Why when, for Clinia’s sake,
We changed the ladies, I quite forgot that I had described
Antiphila to my father. Gorgo will never do.
Ph. Why not?
Pam.Don’t ask. What is to be done? What shall I say?
Ph. I’m thinking.
Pam.My father must never know who Gorgo is.
Ph. I see.
Pam.What can I tell him?
Ph.I’m thinking.
Pam.He must not know.
Ph. Do let me think.
Pam.What is to be done? What can I say?
Ph. I have it.
Pam.What is it?
Ph.If we can do it—
Pam.What?
Ph.Your father
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Must sooner or later come to learn the ladies were changed.
Pam. To-morrow that will not matter when Gorgo is out of the way.
To-day we must keep up the deception.
Ph.I see you must.
Pam. How can I?
Ph.What do you say if I can make your father
Give Gorgo fifty pounds for being so much unlike
The lady he thinks her to be?
Pam.Impossible.
Ph.Nay, ’tis not.
Pam. Well, how?
Ph.Why, when your father scolds, turn round upon him;
Say you knew all along exactly what he would think,
And brought the lady here in the hope he’d see his way
To helping old Menedemus out of his scrape.
Pam.And then?
Ph. Tell him to offer Gorgo forty or fifty pounds,
If she will renounce her claim on Clinia.
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Pam.Fifty pounds!
My father give fifty pounds!
Ph.Why, don’t you wish he would?
Pam. And what’s the use of wishing?
Ph.Try him.
Pam.I think you’re mad.
Ph. Try it; I’ll help you out. See here he comes.

Re-enter Chremes.

Chr.Good heavens!
Pamphilus, here’s a sample of manners and good breeding.
How could you ever have thought of bringing that woman here?
Pam. You said you wanted to see her: I thought you wished her to come.
Chr. When, sir, I blamed your friend, you said I could not judge,
Not having seen the lady. Did I not rightly judge?
Ph. (aside). Tell him you knew. Don’t stand there mum.
710
Chr.I am quite ashamed.
Pam. You see then what she is like?
Chr.Of course I see too well.
Pam. I knew, sir, all along exactly what you would think.
Ph. (aside). That’s right.
Chr.And yet you brought her?
Pam.You blame me, sir, too soon:
I have put within your reach the very thing you wished.
Chr. How so?
Pam. I thought you wished to help Menedemus out.
Chr. I do.
Pam.Why then, ’tis easy.
Ph. (aside).Bravo!
Chr.What do you mean?
Pam. Why, sir, we are all agreed the match would never do;
Then why in the world not put a stopper on it at once?
Chr. I don’t quite see your drift.
Pam.Why, forty or fifty pound
Would settle the matter.
Chr.How?
Pam.Just make the offer and see.
Chr. What offer?
Ph.O, I see.
Chr.I don’t see.
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Ph.Capital!
Chr. I’m very dull, no doubt.
Ph.If ’twas my place to speak....
Chr. I don’t forbid you, sir.
Ph.Then, sir, I praise the scheme.
Chr. What scheme?
Ph.I’ll wager my life he means, this lady here
Has plenty of other lovers; offer her fifty pounds,
If she’ll renounce this one.
Chr.Why, stuff! suppose she did.
She might be off to-day and on again to-morrow:
Besides, against what Clinia’s worth in cash to her,
A fifty pounds is nothing. (To Pam.) If that is all you meant,
You’re a very clever fellow.
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Ph.No doubt there’s nothing in it,
Unless she set her hand to paper.
Chr.Would that bind?
How can you think it?
Ph.It might not be binding perhaps on her;
And yet ’twould do the business. If it did not shock
Clinia’s love, as it must, ’twould kill his last pretence.
How could he face his father armed with such a paper?
If you will help this old Menedemus, that’s the way—
Chr. I’ll tell Menedemus of this.
Pam.If you would help him, father,
Spare him the pain. No doubt he’d give you back the money.
Chr. I believe you there. I’d give six times the sum myself,
Were I in his place.
740
Ph.I’ve half a mind, if you are afraid,
To do it myself.
Chr.I should not fear to advance the money.
Ph. A poor man might, but you, sir....
Chr.I do not grudge the money.
Ph. A gentleman can’t consider his pocket at every turn.
Pam. I’m sure you can’t.
Chr. Do you think that forty pounds would do it?
Ph. Forty or fifty.
Chr.Thirty?
Pam.Do it handsomely.
You say you’d give six times the sum yourself.
Chr.I would.
Ay, Pamphilus, fifty times.
Ph.Then don’t think twice about it.
Chr. I do think twice. (Goes aside.)
Ph.Will he do it or not?
Pam.My lucky coin.
Ph. Watch him.
Pam.Heads he does, & tails he doesn’t. Heads!
He does.
Ph. And he will. Look at him.
Chr. (aside.)Fifty pounds! A risk.750
No chance of profit; no: nor marketable return.
Yet might it save a thousand. Well saved, is like well spent;
Ay, even though ’tis saved for another: besides I am sure
The money is safe enough. And now I have gone so far
To help Menedemus, I can’t draw back; while if I do it
I certainly win his esteem & thanks. ’Tis very true
That a good turn done to a neighbour is done to oneself: one lives
Within the circle of joy one goes to create! ’Tis wise:
759
And then to have Menedemus my friend! Say forty pounds;
I happen to have it handy. I’ll do it. It shan’t be said,
Chremes is not a gentleman. No, I’ll do it.
Pam.Sir,
Have you decided?
Chr.I have.
Ph.You’ll do it?
Chr.I shall.
Ph.Bravo!
Will you give us the money now?
Chr.You, sir!
Ph.I mean to your son;
To arrange with the lady.
Chr.How so? You seem in a vast hurry.
I manage my own affairs. Besides the forty pounds
Is only a guess. I hope to win the lady for less.
Perhaps you thought that if I gave you the round sum,
I should not enquire for the balance, and you might manage to save
A little commission. No: I manage my own affairs.
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You can’t take Chremes in as easily as all that.

[Exit.

Ph. Ho! ho! ho! ho! What say you!
Pam.You are a genius.
Ph.Well!
You wanted a present for Gorgo, you told me. Won’t this do?
Pam. Oh yes! But I am amazed.
Ph.Come, let’s go in and dress.
I hope to bleed Menedemus to better purpose than this.
For after all we shan’t see much of this forty pound;
And as far as I am concerned it’s money thrown away.

[Exeunt.