Was but one evening. What’s your son to do,
And you, my friend, that will have to keep her always?
Menedemus.—Let him do what he will: let him take all,
Spend, squander it upon her; I’m content,
So I may keep my son.”—Collins.
The play is full of amusing incidents,—the intrusions of the eager Clitipho on the pretended love-making of his adored Bacchis and Clinia—the indignation of Chremes at his son’s seeming want of politeness—the cozening of Chremes by the clever slave out of a large sum for his young master to give to Bacchis. The discovery that Antiphila is Chremes’ own daughter, whom, at her birth, his wife had given to a Corinthian woman to expose, adds fresh interest to the plot. The marriage takes place to the delight of all parties. Chremes is persuaded to forgive his son, who promises to abandon Bacchis for a more modest wife. The “Self-Tormentor” is happy at last, and can afford to indulge in a hearty laugh at the misfortunes of his neighbor.
“I don’t profess myself to be a genius—
I’m not so sharp as some folk—that I know;
But this same Chremes—this my monitor,
My would-be guide, philosopher, and friend,