CHREMES and DEMIPHO are two aged Athenians, brothers. Nausistrata, the wife of Chremes, is a wealthy woman, possessed of large estates in the island of
PERFORMED at the Roman Games,
DEMIPHO, the brother of Chremes, has gone abroad, his son Antipho being left at
SINCE the old PoetSince the old Poet
: He alludes to his old enemy, Luscus Lavinius, who is mentioned in all his Prologues, except those to the Hecyra.Epidicazomenos
: A Play of Apollodorus, so called from that Greek word, signifying "one who demands justice from another," in. allusion to Phormio, who is the complainant in the suit, which is the foundation of the plot.Was driven from the place
: Alluding, probably, to the disturbances which took place at the first representation of the Hecyra, and which are mentioned in the Prologues to that Play.
Geta, my very good friend and fellow-townsman, came to me yesterday. There had been for some time a trifling balance of money of his in my hands upon a small account; he asked me to make it up. I have done so, and am carrying it to him. But I hear that his master's son has taken a wife; this, I suppose, is scraped together as a present for her. How unfair a custom!—that those who have the least should always be giving something to the more wealthy! That which the poor wretch has with difficulty spared, ounce by ounce, out of his allowance,Out of his allowance
: Donatus tells us that the slaves received four "modii," or measures of corn, each month, which was called their "demensum."Will be struck
: "Ferietur." "To strike" a person for a present was said when it was extorted from him reluctantly. So in the Trinummuns of Plautus, 1. 247, "Ibi illa pendentem ferit." "Then does she strike while he is wavering."For another present
: Presents were usually made to persons on.their birthday, on the day of their marriage, and on the birth of their children.Initiate him
: It is not known what initiation is here referred to. Madame Dacier thinks it was an initiation into the great mysteries of
Ready counted out
: "Lectum," literally "picked out" or "chosen"—the coins being of full weight.
I am obliged to you; and I return you thanks for not having forgotten me.
Especially as people's ways are nowadays; things are come to such a pass, if a person repays you any thing, you must be greatly obliged to him. But why are you out of spirits?
What, I? You little know what terror and peril I am in.
What's the matter?
You shall know, if you can only keep it secret.
Out upon you, simpleton; the man, whose trustworthiness you have experienced as to money, are you afraid to intrust with words? In what way have I any interest in deceiving you?
Well then, listen.
I give you my best attention.
Davus, do you know Chremes, the elder brother of our old gentleman?
Why should I not?
Well, and his son Phaedria?
As well as your own self.
It so happened to both the old gentlemen, just at the same period, that the one had to take a journey to
To one who had so much property, that he had more than he could use?
Do have done; that is his way.
Oh, as for that, I really ought to have been a man of fortune.
When departing hence, both the old gentlemen left ne as a sort of tutor to their sons.
Ah, Geta, you undertook a hard task there.
I came to experience it, I know that. I'm quite sure that I was forsaken by my good Genius, who must have been angry with me.Have been angry with me
: le alludes to the common belief that each person had a Genius or Guardian Deity; and that when misfortune overtook him, he had been abandoned by his Genius.Kick against the spur
: "To kick against the pricks," or "in spite of the spur," was a common Greek proverb.—The expression occurs in the New Testament, Acts ix. 5. "It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks."
You knew how to make your market.To make your market
: This is a metaphorical expression taken from traffic, in which merchants suit themselves to the times, and fix a price on their commodities, according to the course of the market.
Our young fellow did no mischief whatever at first; that Phaedria at once picked up a certain damsel, a Music-girl, and fell in love with her to distraction. She belonged to a most abominable Procurer; and their fathers had taken good care that they should have nothing to give him.. There remained nothing for him then but to feed his eyes, to follow her about, to escort her to the school,To the school
: It was the custom for the "lenones," or "procurers," to send their female slaves to music-schools, in order to learn accomplishments. So in the Prologue to the Rudens of Plautus: "This Procurer brought the maiden to
I know it already-fell in love with her.
Can you imagine to what an extent? Observe the consequence. The day after, he goes straight to the old woman; entreats her to let him have her: she, on the other hand, refuses him, and says that he is not acting properly; that,she is a citizen of
Would not his father, if he had returned, have given him leave?
He let him marry a girl with no fortune, and of obscure birth! He would never do so.
What came of it at last?
What came of it? There is one Phormio here, a Parasite, a fellow of great assurance; may all the Gods confound him!
What has he done?
He has given this piece of advice, which I will tell you of. "There is a law, that orphan girls are to marry those who are their next-of-kin; and the same law commands such persons to marry them. I'll say you are the next-of-kin, and take out a summonsTake out a summons
: "Dica" was the writ or summons with which an action at law was commenced.
An amusing piece of assurance!
He was, persuaded to this. It was carried out; they came into court: we were beaten. He has married her.
What is it you tell me?
Just what you have heard.
0 Geta, what will become of you?
Upon my faith, I don't know; this one thing I do know, whatever fortune may bring, I'll bear it with firmness.
You please me; well, that is the duty of a man.
All my hope is in myself.
I commend you.
Suppose I have recourse to some one to intercede for me, who will plead for: me in these terms: "Pray, do forgive him this time; but if after this he does any thing, I make no entreaty:" if only he doesn't add, "When I've gone, e'en kill him for my part."
What of the one who was usher to the Music-girl?
Perhaps he hasn't much to give.
Why, really, nothing at all, except mere hopes.
Is his father come back or not?
Not yet.
Well, when do you expect your old man?
I don't know for certain; but I just now heard that a letter has been brought from him, and has been left with the officers of the customs: I'm going to fetch it.
Is there any thing else that you want with me, Geta?
Nothing, but that I wish you well.
That things should have come to such a pass, Phaedria, that I should be in utter dread ,of my father, who wishes me so well, whenever his return comes into my thoughts! Had I not been inconsiderate, I might have waited for him, as I ought to have done.
What's the matter?
Do you ask the question? You, who have been my confederate in so bold an adventure? How I do wish it had never entered the mind of Phormio to persuade me to this, or to urge me in the heat of my passion to this step, which is the source of my misfortunes. Then I should not have obtained her; in that case I might have been uneasy for some few days; but still, this perpetual anxiety would not have been tormenting my mind
I hear you.
While I am every moment expecting his return, who is to sever from me this connection.
Other men feel uneasiness because they can not gain what they love; you complain because you have too much. You are surfeited with love, Antipho. Why, really, upon my faith, this situation of yours is surely one to be coveted and desired. So may the Gods kindly bless me, could I be at liberty to be so long in possession of the object of my love, I could contentedly die. Do you, then, form a judgment as to the rest, what I am now suffering from this privation, and what pleasure you enjoy from the possession of your desires; not to mention how, without any expense, you have obtained a well-born and genteel woman, and have got a wife of unblemished reputation: happy you, were not this one thing wanting, a mind capable of bearing all this with moderation. If you had to deal with that Procurer with whom I have to deal, then you would soon be sensible of it. We are mostly all of us inclined by nature to be dissatisfied with our lot.
Still, on the other hand, Phadria, you now seem to me the fortunate man, who still have the liberty, without restraint, of resolving on what pleases you best: whether to keep, to love on, or to give her up. I, unfortunately, have got my-self into that position, that I have neither right
Geta!
The very person I wanted to find.
Pray, tell me what news you bring, and dispatch it in one word, if you can.
I'll do so.
Out with it.
Just now, at the harbor—
What, my father?—
You've hit it.
. Ruined outright!
Pshaw!
What am I to do?
That I have seen his father, your uncle.
How am I, wretch that I am, now to find a remedy for this sudden misfortune? But if it should be my fortune, Phanium, to be torn away from you, life would cease to be desirable.
Therefore, Antipho, since matters are thus, the more need have you to be on your guard; fortune helps the brave.
I am not myself.
But just now it is especially necessary you should be so, Antipho; for if your father perceives that you are alarmed, he will think that you have been guilty of sone fault.
That's true.
I can not change.
What would you do, if now something else still more difficult had to be done by you?
As I am not equal to this, I should be still less so to the other.
This is doing nothing at all, Phaedria, let's be gone; why do we waste our time here to no purpose. I shall be off.
And I too.
Pray, now, if I assume an air, will that do?
You are trifling.
Look at my countenance—there's for you.
No.
Well, will this?
Pretty well.
Well then, this?
That's just the thing. There now, keep to that, and answer him word for word, like for like; don't let him, in his anger, disconcert you with his blustering words.
I understand.
Say that you were forced against your will by law, by sentence of the court; do you take me?
'Tis he himself. I can not stand it.
Oh! What are you about? Whither are you going, Antipho? Stop, I tell you.
I know my own self and my offense; to your management I trust Phanium and my own existence.
Geta, what's to be done now?
You will just hear some harsh language: I shall be trussed up and trounced, if I am not somewhat mistaken. But what we were just now advising Antipho to do, the same we must do ourselves, Phaedria.
Away with your "musts;" rather do you command me what I am to do.
DO you remember what were your words formerly on our entering upon this project, with the view of protecting yourselves from ill consequences—that their cause was just, clear, unanswerable, and most righteous?
I remember it.
Well then, now there's need of that plea, or of one still better and more plausible, if such there can be.
I'll use my best endeavors.
Do you then accost him first; I'll be here in re-serve,
Very well.
Let alone "authority"
"Ac mitto imperium." Cicero has quoted this passage in his Epistles to Atticus, B. ii. Ep. 19.
What will they say to me, or what excuse will they find? I wonder much.
Will he be saying this to me: "I did it against my will; the law compelled me?" I hear you, and admit it.
But knowingly, in silence, to give up the cause to his adversaries—did the law oblige him to do that as well?
I'll clear that up; let me alone for that.
It is a matter of doubt what I am to do; for beyond expectation, and quite past all belief, has this befallen me. So enraged am I, that I can not compose my mind to think upon it. Wherefore it is the duty of all persons, when affairs are the most prosperous,
My uncle, welcome!
Greetings to you; but where is Antipho?
That you have arrived in safety—
I believe it; answer my question.
He is well; he's close at hand; but is every thing quite to your wishes?
I wish it was so, indeed.
What's the matter?
Do you ask me, Phaedria? You people have cooked up a fine marriage in my absence.
What now, are you angry with him for that?
Have I not reason to be angry with him? I long for him to come into my sight, that he may know that through his faultiness, from being a mild father, I am become a most severe one.
But he has done nothing, uncle, for which you should blame him.
Now, do look at that; all alike; all hanging together; when you know one, you know all.
That is not the case.
When the one is in fault, the other is at hand to defend him; when it is the other, then he is ready; they just help one another by turns.
For if it had not been so, you would not, Phaedria, have stood up for him.
If, uncle; it is the fact, that Antipho has been guilty of any fault, in consequence of which he has been too regardless of his interest or his reputation, I would not allege any reason why he should not suffer what he deserves. But if some one by chance, relying upon his own artfulness, has laid a snare for our youthful age, and has succeeded, is it our fault or that of the judges, who often, through envy, take away from the rich, or, through compassion, award to the poor?
Is there any judge who can possibly know your rights, when you yourself don't answer a word—as he has done?
He acted the part of an ingenuous young man; after they had come before the judges, he was not able to say what he had intended, so much did his modesty confuse him there through his bashfulness.
For some minutes past I've heard you accusing all of us undeservedly; and me the most undeservedly of them all; for what would you have had me do for you in this affair? The laws do not allow a person who is a slave to plead; nor is there any giving evidence
I grant all that: I admit this too—the young man, unused to courts, was bashful; I allow it: you, too, are a slave: still, if she was ever so near a relative, it was not necessary for him to marry her, but as the law enjoins, you might have given her a portion;
No particular reason; but he hadn't the money.
He might have borrowed it from some person or other.
From some person or other? Nothing more easily said.
After all, if on no other terms, on interest.
Aye, aye, fine talking; as if any one would have trusted him, while you were living.
No, it shall not be so; it must not be. Ought I to allow her to remain with him as his wife a single day? She merits no indulgence. I should like this fellow to be pointed out to me, or to be shown where he lives.
Phormio, do you mean?
That fellow, the woman's next friend?
I'll have him here immediately.
Where is Antipho at present?
Away from home.
Go, Phedria, look for him, and bring him here.
I'Il go straightway to the place.
And so you say
Exactly so.
That Phanium is left alone?
Just so.
And that the old man is in a rage?
Extremely so.
The whole business, Phormio, rests on yourself alone; you yourself have hashed it up;
I entreat you—
In you is all our hope.
It was you that urged us.
Do help us.
What will you do?
What would you have me? But that Phanium may continue with him, and that I may clear Antipho from this charge, and turn upon myself
O brave and kind man! But, Phormio, I often dread lest this courage may end in the stocks at last.
Oh, by no means; I've made trial, and have already pondered on the paths for my feet. How many men before to-day do you suppose I have beaten, even to death, strangers as well as citizens: the better I understand it, the oftener I try it. Just tell me, look you, did you ever hear of an action of damages being brought against me?
How is that?
Because the net is never spread for the hawk or the kite, that do us the mischief; it is spread for those that do us none: because in the last there is profit, while with the others it is labor lost.- For persons, out of whom any thing can be got, there's risk from others; they know that I've got nothing. You will say: "They will take you,
It's impossible that sufficient thanks can be returned you by him for your kindness.
Why no; no person can return thanks sufficient to his patron
What is the meaning of that expression?
When you are in doubt which in especial to par-take of. When you enter upon a consideration how delicious these things are, and how costly they are, the person who provides them, must you not account him a very God—neither more nor less?
The old man is coming; take care what you are about; the first onset is the fiercest; if you stand that, then, afterward, you may play just as you please.
Well now—did you ever hear of an injury being done to any person in a more affronting manner than this has to me? Assist me, I do beg of you.
He does deny it.
He does deny it.
And that he knows who Stilpho was?
He does deny it.
Because the poor thing was left destitute, her father is disowned; she herself is slighted: see what avarice does.
Oh, the impudence of the fellow! Does he come on purpose to accuse me?
For really, I have no reason why I should be offended at the young man, if he did not know him; since that person, when growing aged and poor, and supporting himself by his labor, generally confined himself to the country; there hehad a piece of land from my father to cultivate; full oft, in the mean time, did the old. man tell me that this kinsman of his neglected him: but what a man? The very best I ever saw in all my life.
Why, it's just what he deserves.
Who is it?
Hold your peace.
He has never left off uttering abuse against you behind your back, unworthy of you, and just befitting himself.
Well now, have done.
I, know?
Yes.
I say I do not; you, Who affirm it, recall it to my recollection.
Come now, didn't you know your own cousin-ger-man?
You torture me to death; tell me his name.
His name?
Of course.
Well, what do you say?
I, come to pump you, indeed?
But, after all, what matters that to me? It is Stilpho.
Whom did you say?
Stilpho, I tell you; you knew him.
I neither know him, nor had I ever any relation of that name.
Say you so? Are you not ashamed of this? But if he had left you ten talents—
May the Gods confound you!
You'd have been the first, from memory, to trace your line of kindred, even as far back as from grandfather and great-grandfather.
Very likely what you say. In that case, when I had undertaken it, I should have shown how she was related to me; do you do the same: tell me, how is she related to me?
Well done, my master, that's right!
I've already made the matter quite plain where I ought, before the judges; besides, if it was untrue, why didn't your son disprove it?
Do you talk about my son to me? Of whose folly there is no speaking in the language it deserves.
Then do you, who are so wise, go to the magistrates, that for you they may give a second decision in the same cause, since you reign alone
Although wrong has been done me, still, however, rather than engage in litigation, or listen to you, just as though she had been my relation, as the law orders one to find her a portion, rid me of her, and take five minae.
laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! a pleasant individual!
Well! am I asking any thing unfair? Or am I not to obtain even this, which is my right at common law?
Pray, really is it so, that when you have abused-her like a courtesan, the law orders you to pay her hire and pack her off? Or is it the fact, that in order that a citizen may bring no disgrace upon herself through poverty, she has been ordered to be given to her nearest relative, to pass her life with him alone? A thing which you mean to prevent.
Yes, to her nearest.relative, indeed; but why to us, or on what ground?
Well, well, a thing tried, they say, you can't try over again.
Not try it? On the contrary, I shall not desist until I have gone through with it.
You are trifling.
Only let me alone for that.
In short, Demipho, I have nothing to do with you; your son has been cast, and not you; for your time of life for marrying has now gone by.
Consider that it is he that says to you all I now say, or else assuredly, together with this wife of his, I'll be forbidding him the house.
You'll be acting more considerately.
Are you so resolved, you unlucky fellow, to do me all the mischief you can?
But if, on the contrary, you endure what must be endured, you'll be doing what's worthy of you, so that we may be on friendly terms.
If you can agree with her, you will have some one to cheer up your old age; just consider your time of life.
Let her cheer up yourself; keep her to yourself.
Really, do moderate your passion.
Mark what I say. There have been words enough already; if you don't make haste to fetch away the woman, I shall turn her out: I have said it, Phormio.
If you use her in any other manner than is befitting a free-born woman, I shall be bringing a swinging action against you: I have said it, Demipho.
What care and anxiety my son does bring upon me, by entangling himself and me in this same marriage! And he doesn't so much as come into my sight, that at least I might know what he says about this matter. or what his sentiments are.
I will.
What, I? I think Cratinus ought, if it seems good to you.
Tell me, Cratinus.
What, do you wish me to speak? I should like you to do what is most for your advantage; it is my opinion, that what this son of yours has done in your absence, in law and justice ought to be annulled; and that you'll obtain redress. That's my opinion.
Say now, Hegio.
I believe that he has spoken with due deliberation; but it is the fact, "as many men, so many minds;"
Speak, Crito.
I am of opinion that we must deliberate further;
Do you want any thing further with us?
You have done very well.
They say that he has not come back.
I must wait for my brother. The advice that he gives me about this matter, I shall follow. I'll go make inquiry at the harbor, when he is to come back.
And I'll go look for Antipho, that he may learn what has passed here. But look, I see him coming this way, just in the very nick of time.
You are the very person I was looking for.
But still, we were not a bit the more remiss on that account.
Tell me, I beg of you, in what posture are my interests and fortunes. Has my father any suspicion?
Not any at present.
Is there still any hope?
I don't know.
Alas!
But Phaedria has not neglected to use his endeavors in your behalf.
He did nothing new.
Then Phormio, too; in this matter, just as in every thing else, showed himself a man of energy.
What did he do?
With his words he silenced the old man, who was very angry.
Well done, Phormio!
I, too, did all I could.
My dear Geta, I love you all.
The commencement is just in this position, as I tell you: matters, at present; are going on smoothly, and your father intends to wait for your uncle till he arrives.
Why him?
He said he was wishful to act by his advice, in all that relates to this business.
How greatly now, Geta, I do dread my uncle's safe arrival! For, according to his single sentence, from what I hear, I am to live or die.
Here comes Phaedria.
Where is he, pray?
See, he's coming from his place of exercise.From his place of exercise
: "Palaestra." He alludes to the Procurer's house under this name.
Prithee, hear me, Dorio.
I'll not hear you.
Only a moment.
Let me alone.
Do hear what I have to say.
Why really I am tired of hearing the same thing a thousand times over.
But now, I have something to tell you that you'll hear with pleasure.
Speak then; I'm listening.
Can I not prevail on you to wait for only three days? Whither are you going now?
I was wondering if you had any thing new to offer.
You don't believe me?
You guess right.
But if I pledge my word.
Nonsense!
You will have reason to say that this kindness was well laid out by you on interest.
Stuff!
Believe me, you will be glad you did so; upon my faith, it is the truth.
Mere dreams!
Do but try; the time is not long.
The same story over again.
You will be my kinsman, my father, my friend; you—
Now, do prate on.
For you to be of a disposition so harsh and inexorable, that neither by pity nor by entreaties can you be softened!
For you to be of a disposition so unreasonable and so unconscionable, Phadria, that you can be talking me over with fine words,
O most fortunate Antipho!
What, I?
To have in your possession the object of your love, and have no occasion to encounter such a nuisance as this.
What I, in my possession? Why yes, as the saying is, I've got a wolf by the ears;A wolf by the ears
: A proverbial expression which, according to Suetonius, was frequently in the mouth of Tiberius Caesar.
That's just my case with regard to him
What, he? Acting the part of a most inhuman fellow; been and sold my Pamphila.
What! Sold her?
Sold her, say you?
Sold her.
I can not prevail upon him to wait for me the next three days, and so far break off the bargain with the person, while I get the money from my friends, which has been promised me; if I don't give it him then, let him not wait a single hour longer.
Very good.
It's not a long time that he asks, Dorio; do let him prevail upon you; he'll pay you two-fold for having acted to him thus obligingly.
Mere words!
Will you allow Pamphila to be carried away from this place? And then, besides, can you possibly allow their love to be severed asunder?
Neither I nor you cause that.
May all the Gods grant you what you are deserving of!
I have borne with you for several months quite against my inclination; promising and whimpering, and yet bringing nothing; now, on the other hand, I have found one to pay, and not be sniveling; give place to your betters.
I' faith, there surely was a day named, if I remember right, for you to pay him.
It is the fact.
Do I deny it?
Is that day past, then?
No; but this one has come before it.
Are you not ashamed of your perfidy?
Not at all, so long as it is for my interest.
Dunghill!
Dorio, is it right, pray, for you to act thus?
It is my way; if I suit you, make use of me.
Do you try to trifle with him
Why really, on the contrary, Antipho, it's he trifling with me, for he knew me to be a person of this sort; I supposed him to be quite a different man; he has deceived me; I'm not a bit different to him from what I was before. But however that may be, I'll yet do this; the captain has said, that to-morrow morning he will pay me the money; if you bring it me before that, Phaedria, I'll follow my rule, that he is the first served who is the first to pay. Farewell!
What am I to do? Wretch that I am! where am I now in this emergency to raise the money for him, I, who am worse than nothing? If it had been possible for these three days to be obtained of him, it was promised me by then.
Geta, shall we suffer him to continue thus wretched, when he so lately assisted me in the kind way you were mentioning? On the contrary, why not, as there's need of it try to do him a kindness in return?
For my part, I'm sure it is but fair.
Come then, you are the only man able to serve him.
What can I do?
Procure the money.
I wish I could; but where it is to come from—tell me that.
My father has come home.
I know; but what of that?
Oh, a word to the wiseA word to the wise
: "Dictum sapienti sat est." The same proverb is found in the Persa of Plautus, 1. 736.
Is that it, then?
Just so.
Upon my faith, you really do give me fine advice; out upon you! Ought I not to be heartily glad, if I meet with no mishap through your marriage, but what, in addition to that, you must now bid me, for his sake, to be seeking risk upon risk?
'Tis true what he says.
What! am I a stranger to you, Geta?
I don't consider you so. But is it so trifling a matter that the old gentleman is now vexed with us all, that we must provoke him still more, and leave no room for entreaty?
Is another man to take her away from before my eyes to some unknown spot? Alas! speak to me then, Antipho, and look upon me while you have the opportunity, and while I'm present.
Why so, or what are you going to do? Pray, tell me.
To whatever part of the world she is borne away, I'm determined to follow her or to perish.
May the Gods prosper your design! Cautiously's the word, however.
Any at all—how?
Pray, do try, that he mayn't be doing something that we may afterward be more or less sorry for, Geta.
I'm considering,
Don't be afraid: together with you, we'll share good and bad.
Only thirty mince.
Thirty? Heyday! she's monstrous dear, Phaedria.
Indeed, she's very cheap.
Well, well, I'll get them for you.
Oh the dear man!
Take yourselves off.
There's need for them directly.
You shall have them directly; but I must have Phormio for my assistant in this business.
He's quite ready; right boldly lay on him any load you like, he'll bear it: he, in especial, is a friend to his friend.
Let's go to him at once then.
Will you have any occasion for my assistance?
None; but be off home, and comfort that poor thing, who I am sure is now in-doors almost dead with fear. Do you linger?
There's nothing I could do with so much pleasure.
What way will you manage this?
I'll tell you on the road; first thing, betake yourself off.
Well, have you brought your daughter with you, Chremes, for whom you went to
No.
Why not?
When her mother found that I staid here longer than usual, and at the same time the age of the girl did not suit with my delays, they told me that she, with all her family, set out in search of me.
Pray, then, why did you stay there so long, when you had heard of this?
Why, faith, a malady detained me.
From what cause? Or what was it?
Do you ask me? Old age itself is a malady. However, I heard that they had arrived safe, from the caps tain who brought them.
Have you heard, Chremes, what has happened to my son in my absence?
'Tis that, in fact, that has embarrassed me in my plans. For if I offer my daughter in marriage to any person that's a stranger, it must all be told how and by whom I had her. You I knew to be fully as faithful to me as I am to myself; if a stranger shall think fit to be connected with me by marriage, he will hold his tongue, just as long as good terms exist between us: but if he takes a dislike to me, he'll be knowing more than it's proper he should know. I am afraid, too, lest my wife should, by some means, come to know of it; if that is the case, it only remains for me to shake myselfTo shake myself
: "Me excutiam." In reference to the custom of the Greeks, and the Eastern nations, of shaking their clothes at the door of any house which they were going to leave.Rely on at home
: "Nam ego meorum solus sum meus." He means that he is the only person in his house friendly to himself, inasmuch as his wife, from her wealth, has supreme power over the domestics, in whom he himself can place no trust.
I know it is so, and that circumstance is a cause of anxiety to me; and I shall never cease trying, until I've made good what I promised you.
Save you, Geta.
I'm delighted to see you safe returned.
I believe you.
How go matters?
Many changes here upon my arrival, as usually the case.
True; have you heard what has happened to Antipho?
All.
It was about that I was talking to him just now.
But really, on carefully reflecting upon this matter I think I have found a remedy.
What is the remedy?
When I left you, by accident Phormio met me.
Who is Phormio?
He who patronized her.
I understand.
It seemed to me that I might first sound him; I took the fellow aside: "Phormio," said I, "why don't we try to settle these matters between us rather with a good grace than with a bad one? My master's a generous man, and one who hates litigation; but really, upon my faith, all his friends were just now advising him with one voice to turn her instantly out of doors."
Good terms with him
: Meaning, "Is he in his senses or not?"
Who ordered you to say so?
Nay, he could not have more happily contrived to bring about what we want.
Go on with your story.
At first the fellow raved.
Say, what did he ask?
What? A great deal too much.
How much? Tell me.
Suppose he were to give a great talent.
Aye, faith, perdition to him rather; has he no shame?
Just what I said to him: "Pray," said I, "suppose he was portioning an only daughter of his own. It has been of little benefit that he hasn't one of his own, when another has been found to be demanding a fortune." To be brief, and to pass over his impertinences, this at last was his final answer: "I," said he," from the very first, have been desirous to marry the daughter of my friend, as was fit I should; for I was aware of the ill results of this, a poor wife being married into a rich family, and becoming a slave. But, as I am now conversing with you unreservedly, I was in want of a wife to bring me a little money with which to pay off my debts; and even yet, if Demipho is willing to give as much as I am to receive with her to whom I am engaged, there is no one whom I should better like for a wife."
What if he's in debt to the amount of his life?Amount of his life
: "Quid si animam debet?" Erasmus tells us that this was a proverb among the Greeks applied to those who ran so deeply in debt, that their persons, and consequently, in one sense, their very existence, came into the power of their creditors.
His land is mortgaged,—for ten minae he said.
Well, well, let him take her then; I'll give it.
He has a house besides, mortgaged for another ten.
Huy, huy! that's too much.
Don't be crying out; you may have those ten of me.
A lady's maid must be brought for his wife; and then too, a little more is wanted for some furniture, and some is wanted for the wedding expenses. " Well then," said he, "for these items, put down ten more."
Then let him at once bring six hundred actionsSix hundred actions
: "Sescentos;" literally, "six hundred." The Romans used this term as we do the words "ten thousand," to signify a large, but indefinite number.
Pray do be quiet; I'll give it: do you only bring your son to marry the woman we want him to have.
'Tis on my account she's turned off; it's right that I should bear the loss.
" Take care and let me know," said he, "as soon as possible, if they are going to let me have her, that I may get rid of the other, so that I mayn't be in doubt; for the others have agreed to.pay me down the portion directly."
Let him have her at once; let him give notice to them that he breaks off the match with the other, and let him marry this woman.
Yes, and little joy to him of the bargain!
Luckily, too, I've now brought home some money with me, the rents which my wife's farms at
Well.
What have you been doing?
Diddling the old fellows out of their money.
Is that quite the thing?
I' faith, I don't know: it's just what I was told to do.
How now, whip-scoundrel, do you give me an answer to what I don't ask you?
What was it then that you did ask?
What was it I did ask? Through your agency, matters have most undoubtedly come to the pass that I may go hang myself. May then all the Gods, Goddesses, Deities above and below, with every evil confound you! Look now, if you wish any thing to succeed, intrust it to him who may bring you from smooth water on to a rock. What was there less advantageous than to touch upon this sore, or to name my wife? Hopes have been excited in my father that she may possibly be got rid of. Pray now, tell me, suppose Phormio receives the portion, she must be taken home by him as his wife: what's to become of me?
But he's not going to marry her.
I know that. But
There is nothing, Antipho, but what it may be made worse by being badly told: you leave out what is good, and you mention the bad. Now then, hear the other side: if he receives the money, she must be taken as his wife, you say; I grant you; still, some time at least will be allowed for preparing for the nuptials, for inviting, and for sacrificing. In the mean time, Phoedria's friends will advance what they have promised; out of that he will repay it.
On what grounds? Or what will he say?
Do you ask the question? "How many circumstances, since then, have befallen me as prodigies? A strange black dogA strange black dog
: This omen, Plautus calls, in the Casina, 1. 937, "canina scaeva."Through the sky-light
: So in the Amphitryon of Plautus, l. 1108, two great snakes come down through the "impluvium," or "sky-light." On the subject of the "impluvium," see the Notes to the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, 1. 159.A hen crowed
: Donatus tells us that it was a saying, that in the house where a hen crowed, the wife had the upper hand.The soothsayer—the diviner
: According to some accounts there was this difference between the "hariolus" and the " arus-pex," that the former foretold human events, the latter those relating to the Deities. Donatus has remarked on these passages, that Terence seems to sneer at the superstitions referred to.
I only wish it may be the case.
It shall be the case; trust me for that. Your father's coming out; go tell Phaedria that the money is found.
Do be quiet, I tell you; I'll take care he shall not be playing any tricks upon us. I'll not rashly part with this without having my witnesses; I'll have it stated to whom I pay it, and for what purpose I pay it.
Why yes, you had need do so, and with all haste, while the fit is upon him; for if this other woman shall prove more pressing, perhaps he may throw us over.
You've hit upon the very thing.
Lead me to him then.
I won't delay.
What the plague does that matter to you?
A great deal, Demipho. It is not enough for you to do your duty, if common report does not approve of it; I wish all this to be done with her own sanction as well, that she mayn't be saying that she has been turned out of doors.
I can do all that myself.
It will come better from one woman to another.
I'll ask her.
Can find them now
: His Lemnian wife and daughter. Colman remarks: " This is intended as a transition to the next Scene; but I think it would have been better if it had followed without this kind of introduction. The Scene itself is admirable, and is, in many places, both affecting and comic, and the discovery of the real character of Phanium is made at a very proper time."
My daughter's nurse
: Among the ancients, it was the custom for nurses who had brought up children to remain with them in after-life.
Mentioning my name, too?
Look round at me.
No.
Do you deny it?
Why? Pray, are you not the person you always used to say you were?
Hush!
Why are you afraid about that door?
I' faith, that's the very reason why we, wretched creatures, have never been able to find you out here.
Well, but tell me, what business have you with that family from whose house you were coming out? Where are the ladies?Where are the ladies?
: "Ubi illae?" literally, "Where are these women?"
Ah, wretched me!
Hah! What's the matter? Are they still alive?
Your daughter is alive. Her poor mother died of grief.
An unfortunate thing!
As for me, being a lone old woman, in want, and unknown, I contrived, as well as I could, to get the young woman married to the young man who is master of this house
What! to Antipho?
The very same, I say.
What? Has he got two wives?
Dear no, prithee, he has only got this one.
What about the other one that's called his relative?
Why, this is she.
What is it you say?
It was done on purpose, in order that her lover might be enabled to marry her without a portion.
Ye Gods, by our trust in you! How often do those things come about through accident, which you couldn't dare to hope for? On my return, I have found my daughter matched with the very person I wished, and just as I wanted; a thing that we were both using our endeavors, with the greatest earnestness, to bring about. Without any very great management on our part, by her own management, she has by herself brought this about.
Now consider what's to be done. The young man's father has returned, and they say that he bears this with feelings highly offended.
There's no danger of that. But, by Gods and men, do take care that no one comes to know that she's my daughter.
No one shall know it from me.
Follow me; in-doors we'll hear the rest.
'Tis caused by our own fault, that it is advantageous to be dishonest; while we wish ourselves to be styled very honest and generous. "So run away as not to run beyond the house,"Run beyond the house
: "Fugias ne printer casam." This passage, has given much trouble to the Commentators; but it is pretty clear that the explanation of Donatus is the correct one: "Don't abandon your own home," that being the safest place. Stallbaum agrees with Gronovius in thinking that it was first applied as a piece of advice to runaway slaves, as being likely to become worse off by the change; probably much in the same spirit as we say, "Out of the frying-pan into the fire."
Most clearly so.
They now get rewarded for it, who confound right with wrong.
Most undoubtedly.
How very foolishly, in fact, we have managed the affair with him!
If by these means we can only manage for him to marry her.
Is that, then, a matter of doubt?
I' faith, judging from what the fellow is, I don't know whether he mightn't change his mind.
How! change it indeed?
I don't know: but "if perhaps," I say.
I'll do as my brother advised me, bring hither his wife, to talk with her. Do you, Geta, go before; tell her that Nausistrata is about to visit her.
The money's been got for Phaedria; it's all hushed about the lawsuit; due care has been taken that she's not to leave for the present. What next, then? What's to be done? You are still sticking in the mud. You are paying by borrowing;Paying by borrowing
: "Versura solvere," was "to pay a debt by borrowing money," and consequently to be no better off than before. Geta having, by the money he has procured, freed Phaedria from all danger of losing his mistress, but at the same time having brought Antipho into still greater danger of losing his wife.Or his talking
: "Ejus" here alludes, not to Nausistrata but to Phormio. Madame Dacier suggests that it should be "hujus."