Studies in the Poetry of Italy, Part I. Roman

by Frank Justus Miller

Demipho, left alone, announces that he will get some friends together to advise him in the business, and prepare him for his interview with Phormio. The act ends with the prospect pretty dark for Antipho, and with no plan of action formed in his behalf.

We are now introduced, at the opening of the second act, to the actor of the title rôle, the keen-witted, reckless parasite, Phormio. He is accompanied upon the stage by Geta, who is telling him the situation. Geta beseeches Phormio to come to their aid, since he is, after all, entirely responsible for the trouble. Phormio remains buried in thought awhile, and then announces that he has his plans formed, and is ready to meet the old man.

[Enter Demipho and three friends from the other side of the stage. Demipho is talking to his friends.]

Dem. Did you ever hear of any one suffering more outrageous treatment than I have? I beg you to help me. Ge. [apart to Phormio]. My, but he's mad! Phor. You just watch me now; I'll stir him up. [Speaking in a loud enough tone to be overheard by Demipho]. By all the powers! Does Demipho say that Phanium isn't related to him? Does Demipho say so? Ge. Yes, he does.

Demipho is caught by this bait, as Phormio had intended, and says to his friends in an undertone:

I believe this is the very fellow I was seeking. Let's go a little nearer.

Phormio continues in a loud voice to berate Demipho for his neglect of the supposed relative, while Geta noisily takes his master's part. Demipho now interrupts this sham quarrel, and after snubbing Geta, he turns with mock politeness to Phormio.

Dem. Young man, I beg your pardon, but will you be kind enough to tell me who that friend of yours was that you are talking about, and how he said I was related to him? Phor. O, you ask as if you didn't know. Dem. As if I didn't know? Phor. Yes. Dem. And I say that I don't know. Now do you, who say that I do, refresh my memory. Phor. Didn't you know your own cousin? Dem. O, you make me tired. Tell me his name. Phor. The name? Why, certainly.

But now the name by which he had heard Phanium speak of her father has slipped from his mind, and he is forced to awkward silence. Demipho is quick to see his embarrassment:

Well, why don't you speak? Phor. [aside]. By George! I'm in a box! I have forgotten the name. Dem. What's that you say? Phor. [aside in a whisper to Geta]. Say, Geta, if you remember that name we heard the other day, tell it to me. [Then determining to bluff it out, he turns to Demipho]. No, I won't tell you the name. You are trying to pump me, as if you didn't know it already. Dem. [angrily]. I pump you? Ge. [whispering]. It's Stilpho. Phor. [to Demipho]. And yet what do I care? It's Stilpho. Dem. Who? Phor. [shouting it at him]. Stilpho, I say. Did you know him? Dem. No, I didn't, And I never had a relative of that name. Phor. No? Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Now if he had left a matter of ten talents— Dem. Confound your impudence! Phor. You would be the first to come forward, with a very good memory, and trace your connection with him for generations back. Dem. Well, have it as you say. Then when I had come into court. I should have told just how she was related to me. Now you do the same. Come, how is she related to me? Phor. I have already explained that to those who had a right to ask—the judges. If my statement was false then, why didn't your son refute it? Dem. Don't mention my son to me! I can't possibly express my disgust at his folly. Phor. Then do you, who are so wise, go before the magistrates and ask them to reopen the case. [This, according to the law of Athens, was impossible.]

Demipho has twice been completely beaten in a war of words—once by Geta and now by Phormio. He chokes down his rage as best he can, and now makes a proposition to his enemy. He is still too angry to express himself very connectedly.