The Portable Roman Reader (Portable Library) (9 page)

DAVUS: What’s the matter?

GETA: I’ll tell you, if you can be secret.

DAVUS : Away, you fool: are you afraid to trust him with words that you’ve found faithful in money? What interest have I in betraying you?

GETA: Well, hear me.

DAVUS: I’m attentive.

GETA: Do you know Chremes, Davus, our old man’s elder brother?

DAVUS: Know him? Yes.

GETA: Do you? And his son Phaedria?

DAVUS: As well as I know you.

GETA: The old men both took a journey at one time, he that I’ve been speaking of to Lemnos, our old gentleman to Cilicia to an old acquaintance there: this same acquaintance tempted our old man over by letters, promising him mountains of gold, and what not?

DAVUS: To one so rich, and whom has more than he knows what to do with?

GETA: Hold your tongue: ‘tis his temper.

DAVUS: 01 If I was what I ought to be, I shou’d be a king.

GETA: When the old men went from hence, they both left me as governor over their sons.

DAVUS: O! Geta, ‘tis a hard task you’ve taken on yourself.

GETA: That I know by experience: I am sure my genius was angry, or I had not been left with such a charge. I began at first to oppose ‘em: in short, while I was faithful to the old men, my shoulders smarted: I consider’d, that ‘tis folly to kick against the pricks: I then devoted myself entirely to my young masters, and did ev’ry thing they’d have me.

DAVUS: You knew how to make your market.

GETA: Our spark did not fly into any mischief at first; but Phaedria was not long before he got his music-girl; and he became desperately fond of her; she was in the hands of a sordid rascal of a cock-bawd; and their fathers had taken care that they shou’d not have it in their pow‘r to give anything: in the meanwhile he cou’d do nothing with her but feed his eyes, and dangle after her, and lead her to school and back again. We at our leisure gave Phædria our attendance: over against the school where this girl was educated was a barber’s shop: there we usually waited till she came from school to go home: as we were sitting there, a young man came crying to us: we were surpris’d: we asked him what’s the matter: “Poverty,” says he, “never seem’d to me so sad and heavy a burden as it did just now. I have just seen a poor unhappy maid in the neighbourhood here, lamenting over her departed mother: she was plac’d against her, without any kind friend, acquaintance, or relation, excepting one old woman, to assist her in the funeral: it griev’d my heart, to see such beauty in distress!” In short, he mov’d us all: then says Antipho immediately, “Shall we go and see her?” “Yes,” says one, ’let us go—pray shew us the way.“ We walk on, we come to the place, we behold her: fair she was indeed, and the more so, because she had no help from art to her beauty: loose was her hair, and bare her feet, she was dirty, ill dress‘d, and all in tears, so that, had there not been a native force of beauty in her charms, they had been extinguish’d here. The spark that lov’d the music-girl only say’d, ”She’s pretty enough,“ but our—

DAVUS: I easily guess: he was wounded.

GETA: But can you guess how deeply? Observe the consequence. The next day he goes directly to the old woman; he intreats her to let him possess the girl: she refuses, and tells him ‘tis unjust to do it, that she’s a citizen of Athens, of a good character, and good parentage, if he has a mind to marry her, that he may lawfully do; he had a strong inclination to marry her, but was afraid of his father who’s abroad.

DAVUS: Wou’d not his father give him leave, if he was come home?

GETA: He give him leave to marry a wench of no birth or fortune? Never.

DAVUS: What’s come of it at last?

GETA: What’s come of it? There’s a certain parasite, one Phormio, a fellow of an undaunted assurance, who, the devil take him for it—

DAVUS: What has he done?

GETA:—Gave him the following counsel: “Tis a law,” says he, “that young women, who are orphans, shall be marry’d to their nearest relations, and this same law obliges the men to marry them: I’ll say you are her kinsman, and I’ll be your prosecutor: I’ll pretend to be her father’s friend: we’ll bring it before the judges: who her father was, who her mother, and how she’s related to you, leave to my management, I’ll have all ready, to carry it to my own advantage and in favor of me: when you disprove none of these articles, I shall gain my cause. Your father will come home: he’ll have a pull with me: what then? We shall secure our woman.”

DAVUS: A humourous piece of impudence!

GETA: He prevail’d on the young man: they set about it: they come into court: he marry’d her.

DAVUS: What’s that you say?

GETA: ‘Tis just as I tell you.

DAVUS: O! Geta, what will become of you?

GETA: I can’t tell, by Hercules: this I know, whatever fortune lays upon me, I’ll bear it patiently.

DAVUS: I’m glad to hear you say so: ‘tis what we all ought to do.

GETA: All my hope is in myself.

DAVUS: I commend you.

GETA: Suppose I get cne to intercede for me, this perhaps will be his speech—“pray forgive him now, but if he does so again, I’ll not speak a word for him.” ‘Tis well if he don’t add, “when I’m gone, e’en hang him.”

DAVUS: What of the music-girl’s hero? What exploit has he in hand?

GETA: Nothing worth speaking of.

DAVUS: Perhaps he has it not in his pow‘r to give much.

GETA: He can give nothing but hope.

DAVUS: Is his father come home, or not?

GETA: Not yet.

DAVUS: Well, when d‘y’ expect your old man?

GETA: I don’t know certainly; but I hear’d just now that there’s a letter come from him, and left at the port: I’ll go for it.

DAVUS: Have you any more to say to me, Geta?

GETA: Nothing, but that I wish you well.
(Davus goes)
Here boy. Will nobody come out?
(A boy comes)
Take this, and give it to Dorcius.
(He gives the money to the boy and goes)

ANTIPHO: That it shou’d come to this, Phædria, that I shou’d be afraid of my father when I do but think of his return, of a father who wishes me so well! Had I not been an inconsiderate fool, I might have expected him as I ought.

PHÆDRIA: What’s the matter?

ANTIPHO: Is that a question for you to ask, who was my confidant in so bold an enterprise? O! that it had never enter’d into Phormio’s head to persuade me to it, and that he had not drove me in my fit of love on what has prov’d the source of my misfortunes! If I had not obtain’d her, then I shou’d have been uneasy some few days; but I shou’d have escap’d this perplexity of mind, which ev‘ry day torments me—

PHÆDRIA: I hear you.

ANTIPHO:—While I’m ev‘ry moment in expectation of his return, who will force me from the arms of my belov’d.

PHÆDRIA: ‘Tis a grievance to some that they can’t have what they love; satiety’s the root of your complaint. Antipho, you’re too rich in love; for such, by Hercules, is your situation, ’tis worth our warmest wishes and endeavours. By heav’n cou’d I possess my love so long, I’d purchase it with death, nor think it dear: do but consider, what I endure amidst my present want, and what you gather from your plenteous store; not to mention your good fortune, in having gain‘d, according to your will, an honest wellbred wife, whose character has never been stain’d: you’re a happy man, if you had but this one thing, a mind to bear your fortune as you ought; you’d feel how ’tis, if you had to do with such a cock-bawd as I have: but ‘tis in the nature of us all to murmur at our own condition.

ANTIPHO: But, on the contrary, Phaedria, you are the fortunate man in my eye now; in whom is lodg’d the pow‘r without constraint of consulting what pleases you best, to keep her, love her, or to leave her: I’m unhappily fall’n into such a strait, that I have no right to turn her off, nor pow’r to keep her—but what’s here? Isn’t that Geta that comes running hither? ‘Tis he himself: I’m afraid, lest he shou’d bring some news now that wo’n’t please me.

GETA
(to himself, not seeing them
)
:
Thou‘rt undone, Geta, unless thy invention can relieve thee soon, so many sudden misfortunes hang over thy head now when thou’rt ill prepar’d for ‘em; which I know neither how to ward against, nor to get myself out of; for the boldness of our proceedings can’t be a secret long; which, if not cunningly guarded against, will fall heavily on me or my master.

ANTIPHO
(to Phædria):
What’s the meaning of his confusion here?

GETA
(to himself):
Then I’ve scarcely a minute to turn myself about in, my master’s so near.

ANTIPHO: What mischief’s forwards?

GETA
(still not seeing them) :
Which when he shall hear of, how shall I oppose his anger? Suppose I pretend to speak? I shall enrage him: what, if I say nothing? I shall provoke him: how if I attempt to clear myself? ‘Twill be labour in vain. Alast what an unhappy fellow I am! While I tremble for myself, I am as much on the rack for Antipho; I am concern’d for him; I fear on his account; ’tis he that detains me; for, was it not for him, I shou’d have taken care enough of myself, and have been reveng’d on the old man’s anger; I shou’d have scrap’d up something for my journey, and have march’d off directly.

ANTIPHO
(to Phædria):
What journey is he making, or what is he scraping up?

GETA
(to himself)
: But where shall I find Antipho? Or where shall I look for him?

PHÆDRIA (to
Antipho):
He names you.

ANTIPHO (to
Phædria):
I’m afraid he’s the messenger of some very ill news, tho I don’t know what.

PHÆDRIA
(to Antipho
): Ah! Have you loss’d your senses?

GETA (to
himself):
I’ll make the best of my way homewards: ‘tis most likely he’s there.

PHÆDRIA (to
Antipho):
Let’s call the fellow back.

ANTIPHO (to
Geta):
Stop, you, immediately.

GETA (hearing, but not seeing him): Huy, huy! You speak with authority, whoever you are.

ANTIPHO
(aloud):
Geta.

GETA (seeing
him) :
‘Tis the very person I wanted to meet.

ANTIPHO (to
Geta):
Pray let us know what you’re so full of, and tell us in a word, if you can.

GETA: SO I will.

ANTIPHO: Out with it.

GETA: There’s now put into port—

ANTIPHO: Who, my father?

GETA: You’re right.

ANTIPHO: I’m ruin’d.

PHÆDRIA: Pshaw!

ANTIPHO: What shall I do?

PHÆDRIA (to
Geta):
What say you?

GETA: That I saw his father your uncle.

ANTIPHO: Alas! what remedy shall I find now to this sudden evil? If such my fortune, my dear Phany, that I must be torn from you, let me part with life and you together.

GETA: Therefore as the affair stands, Antipho, you have the more need to look sharp about you: fortune helps the brave.

ANTIPHO: I’m quite confounded.

GETA: But now you’ve most occasion to exert yourself, Antipho; for if your father perceives you to be afraid, he’ll conclude you’re in fault.

PHÆDRIA: That’s true.

ANTIPHO: I can’t change my nature.

GETA: What wou’d you do if you had now a more difficult affair on your hands?

ANTIPHO : Since I can’t go thro this, I shou’d be less able to bear that.

GETA: Here’s nothing in this, Phaedria; let him go. Why do we labour in vain here? I’ll be gone.

PHÆDRIA: SO Will I.

ANTIPHO: Pray now, suppose I put on a countenance, will it do?

GETA: You do but trifle.

ANTIPHO: Look in my face: hum! Will this do?

GETA: No.

ANTIPHO: What say you to this?

GETA: That will almost do.

ANTIPHO: What to this?

GETA: That will do: ay, keep that; and answer him word for word, and give him as good as he brings; and don’t let him bluster you out of countenance in his passion.

ANTIPHO : Very well.

GETA: Say you was fore‘d, against your will, by the law, and decree of the court: do you understand me? But what old man’s that, which I see at the farther end of the street?

ANTIPHO: ‘Tis he himself: I can’t stand my ground.

GETA: Ah! what are you doing? Where are you going, Antipho? Stay I say.

ANTIPHO: I know myself and my offence: I leave my Phany and my life to your care.
(Antipho
goes)

PHÆDRIA: What’s to be done now, Geta?

GETA: You’ll have a chiding now; but hanging will be my lot, if I’m not mistaking: but what we just now here advis’d Antipho to do, we must do ourselves, Phædria.

PHÆDRIA: Leave out
must;
and command me what to do.

GETA: Do you remember what you say‘d, at the beginning of this enterprise, as a defence necessary to be made, that their cause was just, plain, binding, and the fairest that could be?

PHÆDRIA: I remember.

GETA: Ah! now we have need of it indeed, or, if we cou’d have it, a better, and more subtle one.

PHÆDRIA: I’ll take care about it.

GETA: Now go you up to him first: I’ll lie ready to relieve you, if you shall happen to want auxiliaries.

PHÆDRIA: Come on.

DEMIPHO
(to himself, not seeing them):
Is it so, is Antipho marry’d without my consent? Shou’d not my authority—but I wave authority—shou’d not he have fear’d my displeasure at least? Is he not asham’d? Audacious act! O! Geta, thou tutor!

GETA
(aside
to
Phædria):
He’s out at last.