ACT · IV
PAMPHILUS and CLINIA.
PAMPHILUS.
’TIS simply ruin, Clinia; pray come back at once.
Do wait till after dinner.
CLINIA.
I couldn’t.
Pam.The governor
Will smoke it all if you go: ’twill break our party up.
Clin. My father thinks I am killed.
Pam.What matter so you’re not?
1050
Clin. He’ll be so grieved. Indeed I can’t consider your party.
Pam. You’re most ungrateful.
Clin.Nay indeed, good Pamphilus,
I am much obliged for all your kindness; I say so again.
But this I told you expressly I did not wish.
Pam.You’ve got
More than you ever hoped. Antiphila here: your father
Brought nicely round: and all through my good management.
And now you’ll throw me over for want of a little patience.
Clin. To be free with you, I do not like being half drawn in, as I am,
To tricking your father of fifty pounds. Besides I am here
Under a false name, as his guest. Antiphila too
Is passing off for somebody else, I know not who;
While you and Philolaches have deceived your father and mine,
In a way that I cannot be party to.
Pam.Wait. Here comes my father.
I’ll show you now what kind of a temper I risk for you.
Enter Chremes from town.
CHREMES.
Wheu! back at last. Wheu, wheu! my word! as hot as hot!
Wheu! bah! and all this worry and flurry for nothing: wheu!
I am covered and choked with dust. I wish most heartily
These Persians had found their grave at Chrysnotaparoys.
I vow that the famous army of Darius never gave
Such trouble to brave Miltiades at Marathon,
As these two rascally slinkers have given to me. Wheu! Wheu!
Pam. (advancing). Have you not found them, father?
Chr.If I have found them? No.
I went to the port; the ship I found there sure enough,
But I could not hear of them. A single passenger,
They said, had landed; and he was a Greek. I enquired besides
At all the houses along the road: there was not a man,
Who had even so much as seen them.
Sostrata (within).Chremes! Chremes!
Chr.Ah!
Enter Sostrata from Chremes’ house.
SOSTRATA.
O husband! husband!
Chr.O wife! wife!
Sost.She is found, she is found!
Chr. Who’s found?
Sost.Our daughter, our long-lost daughter is found.
Chr.What now?
Sost. Look! this is the necklace, this the ring.
Chr.Why, what d’ye mean?
1080
Sost. See, husband, if you remember them; they are the very same
Our daughter Antiphila wore, the day she was stolen.
Chr.Hey!
What’s this?
Sost.I knew them at once.
Chr.Then tell me at once, whén,
How, and where did you find them?
Sost.The girl that Gorgo brought
Wore them. I knew them at once: and when I heard her name....
Chr. Antiphila?
Sost.Yes, Antiphila.
Chr.Quite so. You heard the name;
That made you think this girl our daughter: I’ll wager my life
She’s no such thing. ’Tis unsupposable.
Sost.Dearest husband,
I always knew we should find her. I’ve said so a thousand times.
1089
Chr. Oh yes! you always knew beforehand of everything
After it happened, wife: there’s nothing could occur
But you would tell me you told me before. And yet this time
Do not be wise too soon.
Sost.Why, here’s the ring itself,
The necklace and the name.
Chr.The name is a common name,
And rings and necklaces too are made so much alike,
They’re nothing to go by.
Sost.Then I have spoken to her, Chremes,
And she is so like her:—
Chr.Hey! here’s fine proof indeed;
Just think for once now what you have said. You recognize
In a grown-up lady, you say, the baby you have never seen
Since she was three! Why, even supposing she was not changed
In all these fifteen years, could you remember her
So long?
1101
Sost. But she is my daughter: that makes the difference.
Chr. Why, that’s the very question. Is she? And if she was,
What difference could it make? But if you have spoken with her,
Where does she say she comes from?
Sost.She says she lives in the town
With an old Corinthian widow . . .
I know: the mother of Gorgo.
They live together, do they? Then just send Gorgo here.
Sost. Indeed she has nothing to do with Gorgo.
Chr.According to that
There are two Corinthian widows.
Sost.Two?
Chr.Why not? I suppose
There must be two, unless it’s the same.
Sost.But who is the other?
1110
Chr. There isn’t another at all. Bring Gorgo here at once.
She’ll know enough of the facts to set this matter at rest.
Sost. Why, Chremes . . .
Chr.I say, fetch Gorgo.
Sost.I assure you, Chremes dear . . .
Chr. Do go and fetch her, wife.
Sost.Well, as you will....
Chr.Of course.
Dó I ever express an opinion, issue a command,
Without an ample reason? (Exit Sostrata.)
’Twould be strange!—(To Pam.) Now, sir,
Had you not heard of this?
Pam.No, father.
Chr.And there you stand,
As dull as a fish! Why, what will you think, if this be true,
Of finding a sister?
Pam.Sir, you wished me a happy day:
As nothing was more unlooked for, nothing is happier
In the world than this.
Chr.Yet there’s your friend, a perfect stranger.
Is far more moved than you. You go to the play, I know:
Fifty per cent. of all our Attic comedies
Have this same plot, a daughter stolen in early years,
Lost sight of, despaired of, almost forgotten, and then at last,
When least expected—although there’s scarce a soul in the house
That does not know or guess it beforehand—she reappears.
Then are not all eyes wet? Why, that’s the poetic art,
Which makes emotion, and sells it to fools at market price.
You have pitied the child, have pictured the thousand possible ills
She may have encountered, hardships of body and mind, neglect,
The injuries and privations of slavery, wrongs and blows;
The lack of all that care, to which, in a mother’s love,
The meanest birth is titled, without which even brutes
Perish for lack of instinct: the tenderness of sex
You have thought of; her innocence, the snares of a merciless world
For the unprotected, and then this picture you contrast
With the comfortable, gentéel hóme the scene presents.
You feel for the parents then—ay, tho’ some ridicule
Be fastened upon them; ’tis by such touches of flesh and blood
The life comes home to your heart, and while you are made to smile,
You weep. You have paid for the tear, or if your false shame
Forbids you to shew your feeling, you’ve bought a lump in the throat.
You praise the play, because ’tis a tender situation.
Enough to stir the blood of a crocodile like yourself:
I catch you weeping—slap! all’s changed. ’Tis not a play:
The stage is yóur hóme, the actors your father and mother,
Your own sister is found, & where’s your feeling now?
I think your heart is made of matting! Your friend, I say,
Is far more moved: I see the tears stand in his eyes.
1150
Clin. ’Tis joy. I wish you joy, sir. I wish your daughter joy.
And, may I say it, your happiness brings happiness to me.
Chr. I thank you, Clitipho; but now we go too fast:
Because I don’t at all suppose this is my daughter.
Ho! Gorgo! where’s Gorgo? (Goes to door.)
Clin. (to Pam.).O Pamphilus, I am in heaven:
For if Antiphila really be your sister, then
My father cannot oppose our marriage.
Pam.No more will mine.
’Twill make him as proud as a peacock.
Clin.Sweetest Antiphila.
Pam. Quite so: but what in the world do you think will happen to me,
When he finds out?
Clin.Oh, I have attained the life of the gods!
1160
Pam. Go on. You will not tell me now I have done too much?
Clin. Oh no: I forgive it all.
Pam.Forgive it?
Clin.I thank you for it.
Pam. I shall need more than thanks.
Clin.O Pamphilus, anything.
What can I give you?
Pam.Listen. If things go well with you,
They’re not so smart with me: and if you wish to help me,
I only see one hope.
Clin.What’s that?
Pam.That you should win
Your father to plead for me: after all I have done for him,
I think he might: and if you ask him, I am sure he will.
Concealment is out of the question: go to him now at once,
And tell him all.
Clin.Indeed I was going; but may I not see
Antiphila first?
Pam.No, no, there’s not a moment to lose.
The governor will be back, and if he finds you out,
You’ll have to go to your father with him, and what a tale
He’ll tell it’s easy to guess.
Clin.I would not consent to that.
I’ll go at once.
Pam.Go quickly, before Gorgo comes.
Quick! Quick!
And just in time. I wonder what she will say.
Chr. (at the door to Gorgo). I want you a moment, Gorgo.
Enter Gorgo with Sostrata.
Prithee, be so good
As just to answer my questions. This girl Antiphila
Who came with you, is your maid? Don’t look at my son and laugh.
I am serious. Is this girl your servant?
GORGO.
No.
Chr.She is not?
She lives with you?
Gor.No.
Chr. I thought you lived with the widow woman,
Who came from Corinth. Pray be sober. I want to know.
You told me you did.
Gor.Ay, sir.
Chr.And yet Antiphila
Does not live with you?
Gor.No, sir.
Chr.When did you see her first?
Gor. This morning.
Chr.Indeed. And can you tell me nothing about her?
Gor. Nothing whatever.
Chr.I thank you. I’ve nothing to ask you then.
Gor. It’s thank you for nothing, sir! No further commands at present?
Chr. Peace, prithee, peace!
(To Sostrata.) Now, wife, you see I was right for once.
Gorgo knows nothing about her.
Sost.I told you she didn’t, Chremes.
1189
Chr. But then you said she lived with the widow. You see she doesn’t,
And Gorgo does.
Sost.I can’t believe it. Antiphila told me
The widow’s name; and then the very clothes she wore
The day she was stolen, she has laid by.
Chr.Eh! said she so?
Then you should have sent for the woman, told her to bring the clothes.
Sost. So, Chremes, I did, but the poor old lady’s too ill to come:
But the clothes were sent. I have seen them.
Chr.And are they the same?
Sost. They are.
Chr. Why then did you not spare me all this trouble, wife?
Why did you not tell me before of the clothes?
Sost.You would not hear!
Chr. Not hear! when all the time I was asking you this and that.
Ye gods! have ye never made one reasonable woman?
Don’t you see that the clothes are the chiefest matter of all?
Why, they’re a proof.
Sost.Then do you believe?
Chr.Ay, wife, come in.
I think we have found our daughter.
[Exeunt Sost. and Chr.
Gor. Oho! ho! ho!
O he does make me laugh.
And when he finds all out, the silly old man, at last,
How I shall love to see him!
Pam.Indeed you must not stay.
Gor. Why not?
Pam.Why, don’t you see how mad he’ll be?
Gor.He will.
Pam. He’ll want that forty pounds.
Gor.He may want.
Pam.I am afraid
You cannot keep it.
Gor.I not keep it? What! d’ye think
I’d give it him back?
Pam.I think you had better make sure of it.
Take my advice and go.
Gor.I am sorry to go, and yet
What should I stay for now? There’ll be no dinner.
1210
Pam.No,
That there won’t.
Gor.Well, make my excuses, & give your father
My kind congratulations.
Pam.Go!
Gor.With the same to you.
Antiphila’s quite a dove.
Pam.Do go!
Gor.Good-bye, my lad.
It’s wisest to go, I see: but if the old man should ask
Where I am gone to . . .
Pam.Well?
Gor.Why, tell him I’m gone to spend
His forty pounds in the town. Ta ta!
Pam.I think that woman
Has done for me. Thank the gods she’s gone, and just in time;
Here somebody comes from the house.
Enter Philolaches from Chremes’ house.
PHILOLACHES.
Look out, Pamphilus!
Your father is coming after you.
Pam.He has found us out of course?
1220
Ph. He has guessed who Gorgo is; but still is quite in the dark.
He still imagines Clinia slain and torn to bits
On the plains of what d’ye call it.—
Pam.What is best to do?
Ph. Nothing. Let him rave it out. The quicker he heats,
The quicker he’ll cool.
Pam.But if you had ever seen him angry . . .
Ph. Don’t be afraid.
Pam.I am.
Ph.Throw all the blame on me.
Pam. I hear him.
Re-enter Chremes, speaking as he comes out to Sostrata within.
Chr.It’s high time, wife, you stopped this precious noise,
Deafening the gods with singing all your confounded praises
For finding your daughter. You judge them by yourself perhaps,
And think they can’t understand a simple thing, unless
It’s told them a hundred times.
(To Pam.) Now, sir, ’tis you I want.1230
Come here.
Pam.What, father?
Chr. What, father? As innocent
As milk, no doubt. You think it’s possible I do not know?
I’ll tell you what: to-day I have found a daughter, sir,
And lost a son. Begone and take your Gorgo with you:
For I’ll not own you longer. Be off! Go where you will:
But see you ne’er set foot beneath my roof again.
Pam. Father, what do you mean? What have I done?
Chr.You dare
Ask! If I tell you now that you are a reprobate,
An idle, dissipated, licentious, spendthrift fellow:—
Is that enough?
Pam.O father!
1240
Chr.Or if I add the rest,
A mean, deceitful, undutiful, snivelling, sneaking cheat;
A liar.
Pam. Oh, I am not.
Chr.Well, you deny it, do you?
I’ll ask you is this true or not. You found that I,
With a view to help our neighbour, wished to see the girl
That got his son into trouble. You undertook to bring her.
I trusted you wholly, could not expect to be played on bý you;
You knew her, and I did not, had never heard her name;
And this you knew, and took occasion to introduce
A different person altogether, a friend of your own,
A woman whose very presence was an insult; and not content
With abusing my confidence & kindness, my sheer disgust
You turned to your own account, and so, on a mock pretence
Of doing my neighbour a wonderful service, made me pay
I don’t know what. You blinded me, and robbed me, and all the while
’Twas yóur víle místress I was entertaining for you,
And paying out of my pocket for nothing. Is that not true?
Was it not enough to have this creature sit down to dine
With your mother and me? ay, and with your sister? and as for her,
Yóu have been the means of aspersing her character,
The day when she is restored to the family. Yes, ’tis she 1260
Is the lady in question, and I have been running here and there
To diffame my own daughter to my neighbour, and thanks to you
Have been a pretty fool! And if his son returns,—
For now I am so confused that whether he’s living or dead
I have not a notion,—but if, I say, he should return,
And ask Antiphila’s hand, would then Menedemus believe
That I did not tell him the truth before I knew any cause
To wish for one thing more than another? I say be off!
Ask me what you’ve done? A treasure of innocence
You are! Begone! I’ll never see you again. Begone!
1271
Ph. For patience’ sake, one word from me, sir! Pamphilus
Was not so much in fault; I am the one to blame:
He truly intended to introduce Antiphila;
And I was sent to fetch her: but when it appeared her friends
Would not consent to allow that you should interfere
Between Menedemus and her, then, on the spur of the moment,
The ladies were changed, & that at my suggestion, sir.
Chr. I interfere, you say? ’Tis you that interfere,
I think. Pray hold your tongue; or if you wish to advise,
Advise your friend again: he needs it more than I;
Maybe he’ll thank you for it. I neither ask nor want it.
Re-enter Sostrata.
(To Pam.) To you, sir, I have no more to add. Begone at once!
’Twill spare your sister pain, if she shd never know you;
Not that there’s aught to lose. Now, if there is anything
You want in the house, go in at once and fetch it. Look,
I’ll give you half an hour.
Sost.Chremes, what are you saying?
Chr. I have only said, wife, what I told you; and you may now
Bid your dear Pamphilus good-bye.
Sost.How cruel you are!
Do you wish to kill your son? You’ll certainly be his death,
Unless you mind. I wonder how anything so wicked
Could have come into your head.
Chr.Oh, will you never learn
To keep your place, woman? Was there ever a thing
Which I ever proposed or did in my whole life, in which
You did not go against me? But shd I ask you now
What wrong I am doing, or why I do the thing I do,
You would not know: you could not tell me anything
Of the matter in which so confidently you oppose me. Fool!
Sost. I do not know?
Chr.Well, well, you do know. Anything
Rather than have it all over again.
Sost.How iniquitous of you,
To prevent my speaking in such a matter!
1300
Chr.I don’t prevent you.
Go on! Talk yourself hoarse.
Pam.Mother, what shall I do?
Sost. What did he say?
Pam.He says he disowns me.
Sost.Don’t give way.
He is angry now: I know he’ll soon be kind again.
Ph. Quite so, madam; a father’s threats are nothing to fear.
Pam. I am glad you think so.
Ph.Don’t be angry with me, Pam!
I’ve got you into a mess, but if you’ll trust to me,
I’ll get you out.
Sost.How kind of you, Mr. Philogelos!
Ph. Take my advice and hide. Pretend you have run away.
I’ll say you’ve sailed to the Persian wars in Clinia’s ship.
And when your father finds that Clinia is safe, and he
Demands Antiphila’s hand, the rest will be all forgotten.
Sost. Is Antiphila to marry Clinia?
Ph.Yes, ma’am.
Sost.Menedemus’ son,
That ran away?
Ph.Yes, ma’am.
Sost.Why, Chremes said he was killed.
Ph. It’s all a mistake; you’ve spoken to him to-day yourself:
He is Clitipho.
Sost.O dear! I must tell Chremes this.
How glad I am!
Ph.Stay, madam, stay; I pray you won’t.
Your husband will find that out quite soon enough for us.
Far better see Menedemus, if he will help us out.
Sost. What could he do?
Ph.He’ll stand our friend. How could he wish
To see Antiphila’s brother driven disgraced from home?
Sost. Go, Pamphilus, go at once!
Pam.Clinia is there; I will.
Sost. And can I then tell Chremes?
Ph.Madam, consider this:
He won’t believe you, and after will only be angry with you
For knowing it first, and being in the right when he was wrong.
Sost. ’Tis all so strange, that really and truly I don’t suppose
That any one would believe it. It may be best to wait.
But you should waste no time, Pamphilus; go at once.
Pam. I go, but do not tell him where I am gone.
[Exit Pam.
Sost.No, son.
I’ll do my best to win him. (To Ph.) I thank you, sir, very kindly.
[Exit Sostrata.
Ph. I wish you good success.
A sensible body. I lean
On her and old Menedemus. Not that I doubt myself;
I know a stroke to play: is’t not the feast of Bacchus?
I will invoke the god; his genius will confound
This dull, contrary Chremes. What’s his humour worth
To gods or men, that I should bow to it? Nay, & since
Whate’er the humour be, ’tis the persistency
That carries it, to hell with dumps! ’Twere póor mérriment
That Chremes’ frown could dash. Why, if there be a choice
’Twixt Chremes pleased and Chremes angry, of the two
This latter, angry Chremes is the more ridiculous.
