Complete Works of Terence

by Terence

  Men. What persons do you say are lingering?

  Chrem. Ha! Menedemus, you have come opportunely. Tell me, have you told Clinia what I said?

  Men. Every thing.

  Chrem. What did he say?

  Men. He began to rejoice, just like people do who wish to be married.

  Chrem. (laughing.) Ha! ha! ha!

  Men. Why are you laughing?

  Chrem. The sly tricks of my servant, Syrus, just came into my mind.

  Men. Did they?

  Chrem. The rogue can even mould the countenances of people.

  Men. That my son is pretending that he is overjoyed, is it that you mean?

  Chrem. Just so. (Laughing.)

  Men. The very same thing came into my mind.

  Chrem. A crafty knave!

  Men. Still more would you think such to be the fact, if you knew more.

  Chrem. Do you say so?

  Men. Do you give attention then?

  Chrem. Just stop — first I want to know this, what money you have squandered; for when you told your son that she was promised, of course Dromo would at once throw in a word that golden jewels, clothes, and attendants would be needed for the bride, in order that you might give the money.

  Men. No.

  Chrem. How, no?

  Men. No, I tell you.

  Chrem. Nor yet your son himself?

  Men. Not in the slightest, Chremes. He was only the more pressing on this one point, that the match might be concluded to-day.

  Chrem. You say what’s surprising. What did my servant Syrus do? Didn’t even he say any thing?

  Men. Nothing at all.

  Chrem. For what reason, I don’t know.

  Men. For my part, I wonder at that, when you know other things so well. But this same Syrus has moulded your son, too, to such perfection, that there could not be even the slightest suspicion that she is Clinia’s mistress!

  Chrem. What do you say?

  Men. Not to mention, then, their kissing and embracing; that I count nothing.

  Chrem. What more could be done to carry on the cheat?

  Men. Pshaw!

  Chrem. What do you mean?

  Men. Only listen. In the inner part of my house there is a certain room at the back; into this a bed was brought, and was made up with bed-clothes.

  Chrem. What took place after this?

  Men. No sooner said than done, thither went Clitipho.

  Chrem. Alone?

  Men. Alone.

  Chrem. I’m alarmed.

  Men. Bacchis followed directly.

  Chrem. Alone?

  Men. Alone.

  Chrem. I’m undone!

  Men. When they had gone into the room, they shut the door.

  Chrem. Well — did Clinia see all this going on?

  Men. How shouldn’t he? He was with me.

  Chrem. Bacchis is my son’s mistress, Menedemus — I’m undone.

  Men. Why so?

  Chrem. I have hardly substance to suffice for ten days.

  Men. What! are you alarmed at it, because he is paying attention to his friend?

  Chrem. His “she-friend” rather.

  Men. If he really is paying it.

  Chrem. Is it a matter of doubt to you? Do you suppose that there is any person of so accommodating and tame a spirit as to suffer his own mistress, himself looking on, to —

  Men. (chuckling and speaking ironically.) Why not? That I may be imposed upon the more easily.

  Chrem. Do you laugh at me? You have good reason. How angry I now am with myself! How many things gave proof, whereby, had I not been a stone, I might have been fully sensible of this? What was it I saw? Alas! wretch that I am! But assuredly they shall not escape my vengeance if I live; for this instant —

  Men. Can you not contain yourself? Have you no respect for yourself? Am I not a sufficient example to you?

  Chrem. For very anger, Menedemus, I am not myself.

  Men. For you to talk in that manner! Is it not a shame for you to be giving advice to others, to show wisdom abroad and yet be able to do nothing for yourself?

  Chrem. What shall I do?

  Men. That which you said I failed to do: make him sensible that you are his father; make him venture to intrust every thing to you, to seek and to ask of you; so that he may look for no other resources and forsake you.

  Chrem. Nay, I had much rather he would go any where in the world, than by his debaucheries here reduce his father to beggary! For if I go on supplying his extravagance, Menedemus, in that case my circumstances will undoubtedly be soon reduced to the level of your rake.

  Men. What evils you will bring upon yourself in this affair, if you don’t act with caution! You’ll show yourself severe, and still pardon him at last; that too with an ill grace.

  Chrem. Ah! you don’t know how vexed I am.

  Men. Just as you please. What about that which I desire — that she may be married to my son? Unless there is any other step that you would prefer.

  Chrem. On the contrary, both the son-in-law and the connection are to my taste.

  Men. What portion shall I say that you have named for your daughter? Why are you silent?

  Chrem. Portion?

  Men. I say so.

  Chrem. Alas!

  Men. Chremes, don’t be at all afraid to speak, if it is but a small one. The portion is no consideration at all with us.

  Chrem. I did think that two talents were sufficient, according to my means. But if you wish me to be saved, and my estate and my son, you must say to this effect, that I have settled all my property on her as her portion.

  Men. What scheme are you upon?

  Chrem. Pretend that you wonder at this, and at the same time ask him the reason why I do so.

  Men. Why, really, I can’t conceive the reason for your doing so.

  Chrem. Why do I do so? To check his feelings, which are now hurried away by luxury and wantonness, and to bring him down so as not to know which way to turn himself.

  Men. What is your design?

  Chrem. Let me alone, and give me leave to have my own way in this matter.

  Men. I do give you leave: is this your desire?

  Chrem. It is so.

  Men. Then be it so.

  Chrem. And now let your son prepare to fetch the bride. The other one shall be schooled in such language as befits children. But Syrus ——

  Men. What of him?

  Chrem. What? If I live, I will have him so handsomely dressed, so well combed out, that he shall always remember me as long as he lives; to imagine that I’m to be a laughing-stock and a plaything for him! So may the Gods bless me! he would not have dared to do to a widow-woman the things which he has done to me.

  They go into their respective houses.

  Scene II.

  Enter Menedemus, with Clitipho and Syrus.

  Clit. Prithee, is it really the fact, Menedemus, that my father can, in so short a space of time, have cast off all the natural affection of a parent for me? For what crime? What so great enormity have I, to my misfortune, committed? Young men generally do the same.

  Men. I am aware that this must be much more harsh and severe to you, on whom it falls; but yet I take it no less amiss than you. How it is so I know not, nor can I account for it, except that from my heart I wish you well.

  Clit. Did not you say that my father was waiting here?

  Enter Chremes from his house.

  Men. See, here he is.

  Menedemus goes into his house.

  Chrem. Why are you blaming me, Clitipho? Whatever I have done in this matter, I had a view to you and your imprudence. When I saw that you were of a careless disposition, and held the pleasures of the moment of the first importance, and did not look forward to the future, I took measures that you might neither want nor be able to waste this which I have. When, through your own conduct, it was not allowed me to give it you, to whom I ought before all, I had recourse to those who were your nearest relations; to them I have made over and intrusted every
thing. There you’ll always find a refuge for your folly; food, clothing, and a roof under which to betake yourself.

  Clit. Ah me!

  Chrem. It is better than that, you being my heir, Bacchis should possess this estate of mine.

  Syr. (apart.) I’m ruined irrevocably! — Of what mischief have I, wretch that I am, unthinkingly been the cause?

  Clit. Would I were dead!

  Chrem. Prithee, first learn what it is to live. When you know that, if life displeases you, then try the other.

  Syr. Master, may I be allowed —— ?

  Chrem. Say on.

  Syr. But may I safely?

  Chrem. Say on.

  Syr. What injustice or what madness is this, that that in which I have offended, should be to his detriment?

  Chrem. It’s all over. Don’t you mix yourself up in it; no one accuses you, Syrus, nor need you look out for an altar, or for an intercessor for yourself.

  Syr. What is your design?

  Chrem. I am not at all angry either with you (to Syrus), or with you (to Clitipho); nor is it fair that you should be so with me for what I am doing.

  He goes into his house.

  Syr. He’s gone. I wish I had asked him ——

  Clit. What, Syrus?

  Syr. Where I am to get my subsistence; he has so utterly cast us adrift. You are to have it, for the present, at your sister’s, I find.

  Clit. Has it then come to this pass, Syrus — that I am to be in danger even of starving?

  Syr. So we only live, there’s hope ——

  Clit. What hope?

  Syr. That we shall be hungry enough.

  Clit. Do you jest in a matter so serious, and not give me any assistance with your advice?

  Syr. On the contrary, I’m both now thinking of that, and have been about it all the time your father was speaking just now; and so far as I can perceive ——

  Clit. What?

  Syr. It will not be wanting long. (He meditates.)

  Clit. What is it, then?

  Syr. It is this — I think that you are not their son.

  Clit. How’s that, Syrus? Are you quite in your senses?

  Syr. I’ll tell you what’s come into my mind; be you the judge. While they had you alone, while they had no other source of joy more nearly to affect them, they indulged you, they lavished upon you. Now a daughter has been found, a pretense has been found in fact on which to turn you adrift.

  Clit. It’s very probable.

  Syr. Do you suppose that he is so angry on account of this fault?

  Clit. I do not think so.

  Syr. Now consider another thing. All mothers are wont to be advocates for their sons when in fault, and to aid them against a father’s severity; ‘tis not so here.

  Clit. You say true; what then shall I now do, Syrus?

  Syr. Question them on this suspicion; mention the matter without reserve; either, if it is not true, you’ll soon bring them both to compassion, or else you’ll soon find out whose son you are.

  Clit. You give good advice; I’ll do so.

  He goes into the home of Chremes.

  Syr. (to himself.) Most fortunately did this come into my mind. For the less hope the young man entertains, the greater the difficulty with which he’ll bring his father to his own terms. I’m not sure even, that he may not take a wife, and then no thanks for Syrus. But what is this? The old man’s coming out of doors; I’ll be off. What has so far happened, I am surprised at, that he didn’t order me to be carried off from here: now I’ll away to Menedemus here, I’ll secure him as my intercessor; I can put no trust in our old man.

  Goes into the house of Menedemus.

  Scene III.

  Enter Chremes and Sostrata from the house.

  Sos. Really, sir, if you don’t take care, you’ll be causing some mischief to your son; and indeed I do wonder at it, my husband, how any thing so foolish could ever come into your head.

  Chrem. Oh, you persist in being the woman? Did I ever wish for any one thing in all my life, Sostrata, but that you were my contradicter on that occasion? And yet if I were now to ask you what it is that I have done amiss, or why you act thus, you would not know in what point you are now so obstinately opposing me in your folly.

  Sos. I, not know?

  Chrem. Yes, rather, I should have said you do know; inasmuch as either expression amounts to the same thing.

  Sos. Alas! you are unreasonable to expect me to be silent in a matter of such importance.

  Chrem. I don’t expect it; talk on then, I shall still do it not a bit the less.

  Sos. Will you do it?

  Chrem. Certainly.

  Sos. Don’t you see how much evil you will be causing by that course? — He suspects himself to be a foundling.

  Chrem. Do you say so?

  Sos. Assuredly it will be so.

  Chrem. Admit it.

  Sos. Hold now — prithee, let that be for our enemies. Am I to admit that he is not my son who really is?

  Chrem. What! are you afraid that you can not prove that he is yours, whenever you please?

  Sos. Because my daughter has been found?

  Chrem. No; but for a reason why it should be much sooner believed — because he is just like you in disposition, you will easily prove that he is your child; for he is exactly like you; why, he has not a single vice left him but you have just the same. Then, besides, no woman could have been the mother of such a son but yourself. But he’s coming out of doors, and how demure! When you understand the matter, you may form your own conclusions.

  Scene IV.

  Enter Clitipho from the house of Chremes.

  Clit. If there ever was any time, mother, when I caused you pleasure, being called your son by your own desire, I beseech you to remember it, and now to take compassion on me in my distress. A thing I beg and request — do discover to me my parents.

  Sos. I conjure you, my son, not to entertain that notion in your mind, that you are another person’s child.

  Clit. I am.

  Sos. Wretch that I am! (Turning to Chremes.) Was it this that you wanted, pray? (To Clitipho.) So may you be the survivor of me and of him, you are my son and his; and henceforth, if you love me, take care that I never hear that speech from you again.

  Chrem. But I say, if you fear me, take care how I find these propensities existing in you.

  Clit. What propensities?

  Chrem. If you wish to know, I’ll tell you; being a trifler, an idler, a cheat, a glutton, a debauchee, a spendthrift — Believe me, and believe that you are our son.

  Clit. This is not the language of a parent.

  Chrem. If you had been born from my head, Clitipho, just as they say Minerva was from Jove’s, none the more on that account would I suffer myself to be disgraced by your profligacy.

  Sos. May the Gods forbid it.

  Chrem. I don’t know as to the Gods; so far as I shall be enabled, I will carefully prevent it. You are seeking that which you possess — parents; that which you are in want of you don’t seek — in what way to pay obedience to a father, and to preserve what he acquired by his industry. That you by trickery should bring before my eyes — I am ashamed to mention the unseemly word in her presence (pointing to Sostrata), but you were not in any degree ashamed to act thus.

  Clit. (aside.) Alas! how thoroughly displeased I now am with myself! How much ashamed! nor do I know how to make a beginning to pacify him.

  Scene V.

  Enter Menedemus from his house.

  Men. (to himself.) Why really, Chremes is treating his son too harshly and too unkindly. I’m come out, therefore, to make peace between them. Most opportunely I see them both.

  Chrem. Well, Menedemus, why don’t you order my daughter to be sent for, and close with the offer of the portion that I mentioned?

  Sos. My husband, I entreat you not to do it.

  Clit. Father, I entreat you to forgive me.

  Men. Forgive him, Chremes; do let them prevail upon you.

  Chrem. Am I k
nowingly to make my property a present to Bacchis? I’ll not do it.

  Men. Why, we would not suffer it.

  Clit. If you desire me to live, father, do forgive me.

  Sos. Do, my dear Chremes.

  Men. Come, Chremes, pray, don’t be so obdurate.

  Chrem. What am I to do here? I see I am not allowed to carry this through, as I had intended.

  Men. You are acting as becomes you.

  Chrem. On this condition, then, I’ll do it; if he does that which I think it right he should do.

  Clit. Father, I’ll do any thing; command me.

  Chrem. You must take a wife.

  Clit. Father ——

  Chrem. I’ll hear nothing.

  Men. I’ll take it upon myself; he shall do so.

  Chrem. I don’t hear any thing from him as yet.

  Clit. (aside.) I’m undone!

  Sos. Do you hesitate, Clitipho?

  Chrem. Nay, just as he likes.

  Men. He’ll do it all.

  Sos. This course, while you are making a beginning, is disagreeable, and while you are unacquainted with it. When you have become acquainted with it, it will become easy.

  Clit. I’ll do it, father.

  Sos. My son, upon my honor I’ll give you that charming girl, whom you may soon become attached to, the daughter of our neighbor Phanocrata.

  Clit. What! that red-haired girl, with cat’s eyes, freckled face, and hooked nose? I can not, father.

  Chrem. Heyday! how nice he is! You would fancy he had set his mind upon it.

  Sos. I’ll name another.

  Clit. Why no — since I must marry, I myself have one that I should pretty nearly make choice of.

  Sos. Now, son, I commend you.

  Clit. The daughter of Archonides here.

  Sos. I’m quite agreeable.

  Clit. Father, this now remains.

  Chrem. What is it?

  Clit. I want you to pardon Syrus for what he has done for my sake.

  Chrem. Be it so. (To the Audience.) Fare you well, and grant us your applause.

  PHORMIO

  Translated by Henry Thomas Riley

  Based on a play by Apollodorus of Carystus, one of the most important writers of New Comedy that flourished in Athens between 300 and 260 B.C, Phormio was first performed at the Ludi Romani of 161 BC.