by Terence
Gna. So I perceive. Pray, do you see any thing here that don’t please you?
Par. Yourself.
Gna. I believe you, — but any thing else, pray?
Par. Why so?
Gna. Because you are out of spirits.
Par. Not in the least.
Gna. Well, don’t be so; but what think you of this slave? (pointing to her.)
Par. Really, not amiss.
Gna. (aside.) I’ve galled the fellow.
Par. (aside, on overhearing him.) How mistaken you are in your notion!
Gna. How far do you suppose this gift will prove acceptable to Thais?
Par. It’s this you mean to say now, that we are discarded there. Hark you, there are vicissitudes in all things.
Gna. For the next six months, Parmeno, I’ll set you at ease; you sha’n’t have to be running to and fro, or sitting up till daylight. Don’t I make you happy?
Par. Me? O prodigiously!
Gna. That’s my way with my friends.
Par. I commend you.
Gna. I’m detaining you; perhaps you were about to go somewhere else.
Par. Nowhere.
Gna. In that case then, lend me your services a little; let me be introduced to her.
Par. Very well; (Gnatho knocks at the door, which immediately opens) now the door is open for you, (aside) because you are bringing her.
Gna. (going into the house of Thais, ironically.) Should you like any one to be called out from here?
Goes in with Pamphila, and shuts the door.
Scene IV.
Parmeno, alone.
Par. (to himself.) Only let the next two days go by; you who, at present, in such high favor, are opening the door with one little finger, assuredly I’ll cause to be kicking at that door full oft, with your heels, to no purpose.
Re-enter Gnatho from the house.
Gna. Still standing here, Parmeno? Why now, have you been left on guard here, that no go-between might perchance be secretly running from the Captain to her?
Exit.
Par. Smartly said; really they ought to be wonderful things to please the Captain. But I see my master’s youngest son coming this way; I wonder why he has come away from the Piraeus, for he is at present on guard there in the public service. It’s not for nothing; he’s coming in a hurry, too; I can’t imagine why he’s looking around in all directions.
Scene V.
Enter Chærea on the other side of the stage, in haste.
Chæ. (to himself.) I’m utterly undone! The girl is nowhere; nor do I know where I am myself, to have lost sight of her. Where to inquire for her, where to search for her, whom to ask, which way to turn, I’m at a loss. I have only this hope; wherever she is, she can not long be concealed. O what beauteous features! from this moment I banish all other women from my thoughts; I can not endure these every-day beauties.
Par. (apart.) Why look, here’s the other one. He’s saying something, I don’t know what, about love. O unfortunate old man, their father! This assuredly is a youth, who, if he does begin, you will say that the other one was mere play and pastime, compared with what the madness of this one will cause.
Chæ. (to himself, aloud.) May all the Gods and Goddesses confound that old fellow who detained me to-day, and me as well who stopped for him, and in fact troubled myself a straw about him. But see, here’s Parmeno. (Addressing him.) Good-morrow to you.
Par. Why are you out of spirits, and why in such a hurry? Whence come you?
Chæ. What, I? I’faith, I neither know whence I’m come, nor whither I’m going; so utterly have I lost myself.
Par. How, pray?
Chæ. I’m in love.
Par. (starting.) Ha!
Chæ. Now, Parmeno, you may show what sort of a man you are. You know that you often promised me to this effect: “Chærea, do you only find some object to fall in love with; I’ll make you sensible of my usefulness in such matters,” when I used to be storing up my father’s provisions for you on the sly in your little room.
Par. To the point, you simpleton.
Chæ. Upon my faith, this is the fact. Now, then, let your promises be made good, if you please, or if indeed the affair is a deserving one for you to exert your energies upon. The girl isn’t like our girls, whom their mothers are anxious to have with shoulders kept down, and chests well girthed, that they may be slender. If one is a little inclined to plumpness, they declare that she’s training for a boxer, and stint her food; although their constitutions are good, by their treatment they make them as slight as bulrushes; and so for that reason they are admired, forsooth.
Par. What sort of a girl is this one of yours?
Chæ. A new style of beauty.
Par. (ironically.) Astounding!
Chæ. Her complexion genuine, her flesh firm and full of juiciness.
Par. Her age?
Chæ. Her age? Sixteen.
Par. The very flower of youth.
Chæ. Do you make it your care to obtain her for me either by force, stealth, or entreaty; so that I only gain her, it matters not how to me.
Par. Well, but to whom does the damsel belong?
Chæ. That, i’faith, I don’t know.
Par. Whence did she come?
Chæ. That, just as much.
Par. Where does she live?
Chæ. Nor yet do I know that.
Par. Where did you see her?
Chæ. In the street.
Par. How did you come to lose her?
Chæ. Why, that’s what I was just now fretting myself about; and I do not believe that there is one individual to whom all good luck is a greater stranger than to myself. What ill fortune this is! I’m utterly undone!
Par. What’s the matter?
Chæ. Do you ask me? Do you know Archidemides, my father’s kinsman and years’-mate?
Par. Why not?
Chæ. He, while I was in full pursuit of her, met me.
Par. Unseasonably, upon my faith.
Chæ. Aye, unhappily, rather; for other ordinary matters are to be called “unseasonable,” Parmeno. It would be safe for me to make oath that I have not seen him for fully these six or seven months, until just now, when I least wanted, and there was the least occasion. Come now! isn’t this like a fatality? What do you say?
Par. Extremely so.
Chæ. At once he came running up to me, from a considerable distance, stooping, palsied, hanging his lip, and wheezing. “Halloo, Chærea! halloo!” said he; “I’ve something to say to you.” I stopped. “Do you know what it is I want with you?” said he. “Say on,” said I. “To-morrow my cause comes on,” said he. “What then?” “Be sure and tell your father to remember and be my advocate in the morning.” In talking of this, an hour elapsed. I inquired if he wanted any thing else. “That’s all,” said he. I left him. When I looked in this direction for the damsel, she had that very instant turned thia way down this street of ours.
Par. (aside.) It’s a wonder if he doesn’t mean her who has just now been made a present of to Thais here.
Chæ. When I got here, she was nowhere to be seen.
Par. Some attendants, I suppose, were accompanying the girl?
Chæ. Yes; a Parasite, and a female servant.
Par. (apart.) It’s the very same. (To Chærea.) It’s all over with you; make an end of it; you’ve said your last.
Chæ. You are thinking about something else.
Par. Indeed I’m thinking of this same matter.
Chæ. Pray, tell me, do you know her, or did you see her?
Par. I did see, and I do know her; I am aware to what house she has been taken.
Chæ. What, my dear Parmeno, do you know her, and are you aware where she is?
Par. She has been brought here (pointing) to the house of Thais the Courtesan. She has been made a present to her.
Chæ. What opulent person is it, to be presenting a gift so precious as this?
Par. The Captain Thraso, Phædria’s rival.
Chæ. An unpleasant business for my
brother, it should seem.
Par. Aye, and if you did but know what present he is pitting against this present, you would say so still more.
Chæ. Troth now, what is it, pray?
Par. A Eunuch.
Chæ. What! that unsightly creature, pray, that he purchased yesterday, an old woman?
Par. That very same.
Chæ. To a certainty, the gentleman will be bundled out of doors, together with his present; but I wasn’t aware that this Thais is our neighbor.
Par. It isn’t long since she came.
Chæ. Unhappy wretch that I am! never to have seen her, even. Come now, just tell me, is she as handsome as she is reported to be?
Par. Quite.
Chæ. But nothing in comparison with this damsel of mine?
Par. Another thing altogether.
Chæ. Troth now, Parmeno, prithee do contrive for me to gain possession of her.
Par. I’ll do my best, and use all my endeavors; I’ll lend you my assistance. (Going.) Do you want any thing else with me?
Chæ. Where are you going now?
Par. Home; to take those slaves to Thais, as your brother ordered me.
Chæ. Oh, lucky Eunuch that! really, to be sent as a present to that house! Par. Why so?
Chæ. Do you ask? Ho will always see at home a fellow-servant of consummate beauty, and he conversing with her; he will be in the same house with her; sometimes he will take his meals with her; sometimes sleep near her.
Par. What now, if you yourself were to be this fortunate person?
Chæ. By what means, Parmeno? Tell me.
Par. Do you assume his dress.
Chæ. His dress! Well, what then?
Par. I’ll take you there instead of him.
Chæ. (musing.) I hear you.
Par. I’ll say that you are he.
Chæ. I understand you.
Par. You may enjoy those advantages which you just now said he would enjoy; you may take your meals together with her, be in company with her, touch her, dally with her, and sleep by her side; as not one of these women is acquainted with you, nor yet knows who you are. Besides, you are of an age and figure that you may easily pass for a eunuch.
Chæ. You speak to the purpose; I never knew better counsel given. Well, let’s go in at once; dress me up, take me away, lead me to her, as fast as you can.
Par. What do you mean? Really, I was only joking.
Chæ. You talk nonsense.
Par. I’m undone! Wretch that I am! what have I done? (Chærea pushes him along.) Whither are you pushing me? You’ll throw me down presently. I entreat you, be quiet.
Chæ. Let’s be off. (Pushes him.)
Par. Do you still persist?
Chæ. I am resolved upon it.
Par. Only take care that this isn’t too rash a project.
Chæ. Certainly it isn’t; let me alone for that.
Par. Aye, but I shall have to pay the penalty for this?
Chæ. Pshaw!
Par. We shall be guilty of a disgraceful action.
Chæ. What, is it disgraceful to be taken to the house of a Courtesan, and to return the compliment upon those tormentors who treat us and our youthful age so scornfully, and who are always tormenting us in every way; — to dupe them just as we are duped by them? Or is it right and proper that in preference my father should be wheedled out of his money by deceitful pretexts? Those who knew of this would blame me; while all would think the other a meritorious act.
Par. What’s to be done in such case? If you are determined to do it, you must do it: but don’t you by-and-by be throwing the blame upon me.
Chæ.. I shall not do so.
Par. Do you order me, then?
Chæ. I order, charge, and command you; I will never disavow my authorizing you.
Par. Follow me; may the Gods prosper it!
They go into the house of Laches.
ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Enter Thraso and Gnatho.
Thra. Did Thais really return me many thanks?
Gna. Exceeding thanks.
Thra. Was she delighted, say you?
Gna. Not so much, indeed, at the present itself, as because it was given by you; really, in right earnest, she does exult at that.
Enter Parmeno unseen, from Laches’ house.
Par. (apart.) I’ve come here to be on the look-out, that when there is an opportunity I may take the presents. But see, here’s the Captain.
Thra. Undoubtedly it is the case with me, that every thing I do is a cause for thankfulness.
Gna. Upon my faith, I’ve observed it.
Thra. The most mighty King, even, always used to give me especial thanks for whatever I did; but not so to others.
Gna. He who has the wit that you have, often by his words appropriates to himself the glory that has been achieved by the labor of others.
Thra. You’ve just hit it.
Gna. The king, then, kept you in his eye.
Thra. Just so.
Gna. To enjoy your society.
Thra. True; he intrusted to me all his army, all his state secrets.
Gna. Astonishing!
Thra. Then if, on any occasion, a surfeit of society, or a dislike of business, came upon him, when he was desirous to take some recreation; just as though — you understand?
Gna. I know; just as though on occasion he would rid his mind of those anxieties.
Thra. You have it. Then he used to take me aside as his only boon companion.
Gna. Whew! You are telling of a King of refined taste.
Thra. Aye, he is a person of that sort; a man of but very few acquaintanceships.
Gna. (aside.) Indeed, of none, I fancy, if he’s on intimate terms with you.
Thra. All the people envied me, and attacked me privately. I don’t care one straw. They envied me dreadfully; but one in particular, whom the King had appointed over the Indian elephants. Once, when he became particularly troublesome, “Prithee, Strato,” said I, “are you so fierce because you hold command over the wild beasts?”
Gna. Cleverly said, upon my faith, and shrewdly. Astounding! You did give the fellow a home thrust. What said he?
Thra. Dumfounded, instantaneously.
Gna. How could he be otherwise?
Par. (apart.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! a lost and miserable fellow the one, and the other a scoundrel.
Thra. Well then, about that matter, Gnatho, the way in which I touched up the Rhodian at a banquet — did I never tell you?
Gna. Never; but pray, do tell me. (Aside.) I’ve heard it more than a thousand times already.
Thra. There was in my company at a banquet, this young man of Rhodes, whom I’m speaking of. By chance I had a mistress there; he began to toy with her, and to annoy me. “What are you doing, sir impudence?” said I to the fellow; “a hare yourself, and looking out for game?”
Gna. (pretending to laugh very heartily.) Ha, ha, ha!
Thra. What’s the matter?
Gna. How apt, how smart, how clever; nothing could be more excellent. Prithee, was this a saying of yours? I fancied it was an old one.
Thra. Did you ever hear it before?
Gna. Many a time; and it is mentioned among the first-rate ones.
Thra. It’s my own.
Gna. I’m sorry though that it was said to a thoughtless young man, and one of respectability.
Par. (apart.) May the Gods confound you!
Gna. Pray, what did he do?
Thra. Quite disconcerted. All who were present were dying with laughter; in short, they were all quite afraid of me.
Gna. Not without reason.
Thra. But hark you, had I best clear myself of this to Thais, as to her suspicion that I’m fond of this girl?
Gna. By no means: on the contrary, rather increase her jealousy.
Thra. Why so?
Gna. Do you ask me? Don’t you see, if on any occasion she makes mention of Phædria or commends him, to provoke you ——
T
hra. I understand.
Gna. That such may not be the case, this method is the only remedy. When she speaks of Phædria, do you instantly mention Pamphila. If at any time she says, “Let’s invite Phædria to make one,” do you say, “Let’s ask Pamphila to sing.” If she praises his good looks, do you, on the other hand, praise hers. In short, do you return like for like, which will mortify her.
Thra. If, indeed, she loved me, this might be of some use, Gnatho.
Gna. Since she is impatient for and loves that which you give her, she already loves you; as it is, then, it is an easy matter for her to feel vexed. She will be always afraid lest the presents which she herself is now getting, you may on some occasion be taking elsewhere.
Thra. Well said; that never came into my mind.
Gna. Nonsense. You never thought about it; else how much more readily would you yourself have hit upon it, Thraso!
Scene II.
Enter Thais from her house, attended by Pythias.
Thais, (as she comes out.) I thought I just now heard the Captain’s voice. And look, here he is. Welcome, my dear Thraso.
Thra. O my Thais, my sweet one, how are you? How much do you love me in return for that music girl?
Par. (apart.) How polite! What a beginning he has made on meeting her!
Thais. Very much, as you deserve.
Gna. Let’s go to dinner then. (To Thraso.) What do you stand here for?
Par. (apart.) Then there’s the other one: you would declare that he was born for his belly’s sake.
Thra. When you please; I sha’n’t delay.
Par. (apart.) I’ll accost them, and pretend as though I had just come out. (He comes forward.) Are you going any where, Thais?
Thais. Ha! Parmeno; well done; just going out for the day.
Par. Where?
Thais, (aside, pointing at Thraso.) Why! don’t you see him?
Par. (aside.) I see him, and I’m sorry for it. (Aloud.) Phædria’s presents are ready for you when you please.
Thra. (impatiently.) Why are we to stand here? Why don’t we be off?
Par. (to Thraso.) Troth now, pray, do let us, with your leave, present to her the things we intend, and accost and speak to her.
Thra. (ironically.) Very fine presents, I suppose, or at least equal to mine.