University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

Enter PHRONESIUM.
Phro.
Pray, my love,
D'ye think my doors will bite, that you're afraid
To enter?—

Din.
See the spring! 'tis in full bloom.
How sweet it smells! how fair and bright it shines!

Phro.
But, my Dinarchus, why so ungallant!
What! do you not at your return from Lemnos,
Salute your mistress?

Din.
Out upon't! By Hercules!
[aside.
I shall be lost again most wretchedly.

Phro.
Why turn you from me?

Din.
Save you, my Phronesium.

Phro.
You're welcome home—Since you are safe arriv'd,
You'll sup with me to-day?

Din.
I am engag'd.

Phro.
Where will you sup?

Din.
Where you command me, here.

Phro.
You'll give me pleasure.

Din.
I shall give myself
Much more; for you'll be with me all the day,
Phronesium—

Phro.
If 'tis possible, I will.

Din.
Give me my sandals—Quick—Bear off the table.

Phro.
What's now the matter?—Are you in your senses?

Din.
In troth I cannot drink, I'm sick at heart.

Phro.
Stay, something must be done—You must not go—

Din.
My love, you've thrown cold water on me now;
My fit is over, take my sandals off.
Give me a bowl of wine.

Phro.
You're now yourself:
But have you had a safe and pleasant voyage?

Din.
By Herc'les yes, since I've the pleasure now
Of seeing you.

Phro.
Embrace me, love.

Din.
Most willingly.
Ah! what sweet honey is so sweet as this?
[embracing her.
In this I'm happier than is Jove himself.

Phro.
What! not a kiss to give?

Din.
Ay, ten.

Phro.
You are
Not poor in them—more than I ask, you promise.

Din.
Would from the first, I had been of my money
As frugal, as you're generous of your kisses.

Phro.
Could I but help you save, in truth I would.

Din.
Have you done bathing?—

Phro.
For myself I have;
In my own eyes, I'm clean enough—To you
Do I seem dirty?—

Din.
By no means to me.
But I remember that there was a time
When for each other we had no regard.
But what is this I hear since I'm come home?
What in my absence have you been about?
But I rejoice you have escap'd the danger.

Phro.
I've ever made a confidant of you.
I have no child, nor ever been with child.
'Tis true I feign'd I was—

Din.
Why so, my life?

Phro.
By reason of a Babylonian captain,
Who here a year resided, and liv'd with me
In some sort as his wife.

Din.
That I found out.
But why? What was your scheme in this pretence?

Phro.
To have some bait, some lure to draw him back.
Now he has lately sent me here a letter,
That it will prove to what degree I lov'd him,
If I preserve and educate the child;
I'm then to have his all.

Din.
That's no bad news.
What did you then?

Phro.
Because the tenth month now
Draws on, my mother here has sent her maids
Out several ways to find a boy or girl,
Which might be pass'd for mine. In short, you know
Sura our tire-woman, who lives hard by?

Din.
I know her well.

Phro.
At once, she went thro' all
The neighbourhood, and hunted for a child. She said
'Twas given her.

Din.
A pretty business this!
So she that bore the child, is not the mother.
But you, it seems, have borne it after her—

Phro.
You take it right—The captain, as he sent
Me word, will very soon be here—

Din.
Mean while
You'll manage your affairs, as if you'd just
Lain in.

Phro.
Why should I not?—There will be no
Great trouble in't; and, as to the deceit,
'Tis right each use his cunning at his trade.

Din.
What, when the captain comes, will be my fate?
Ah me! Can I forsaken live without you?

Phro.
When I have gain'd my ends, I shall with ease
Between us raise a quarrel, and procure
A separation—After that, my love!
I'll wholly pass my days with you—

Din.
I'd rather
You'd pass your nights—

Phro.
But I must sacrifice
To-day; 'tis necessary to be done.
The child is five days old.

Din.
I think you should.

Phro.
Dare you not make me some small trifling present?

Din.
Whate'er you ask me, love, I count a gain.

Phro.
And so do I, my love—when I've receiv'd it.

Din.
You'll have it presently—I'll send my page.

Phro.
Pray do—

Din.
Be't what it will, receive it kindly.

Phro.
I know you'll send me, what I need not blush
To take—

Din.
Well! Have you any more commands?

Phro.
Only, when you have any leizure, visit me
Again—

Din.
Farewell.

Phro.
Farewell to you, my love.
[Exit Phron.

Din.
Immortal gods!—What she has just now done,
Shews not the foolish fondness of a girl,
But th'open, unreserved confidence,
And trust, of a most dear and faithful friend.
What even one sister would not tell another,
She has disclos'd to me, that she has palm'd
A child upon the world—Now she has open'd
Her very heart and soul to me; and prov'd
She never can be faithless while she lives.
Shall I not love her then? Not be her friend?
Rather than not love her, I would not love
Myself—And, after this, shall I not send her
A present?—Yes, I'll order her five minæ
From hence directly—And a mina more
To buy provisions—She's so kind to me,
I'll do much more for her than for myself;
Since to myself I nothing do but ill.

[Exit.