University of Virginia Library

SCENE VIII.

Enter PALÆSTRIO and PHILOCOMASIUM.
PALÆSTRIO
to PHILOCOMASIUM, entering.
Be sure, that you
Remember my instructions.

Phil.
It is strange,
You should so oft remind me.

Pal.
But I fear
You are not read enough in cunning.

Phil.
Prithee
I could school those, who are themselves proficients.
I have known women, famous for their arts;
But I alone surpass them.

Pal.
Come then—Now,
Now put your tricks in force.—I'll get me from you.
(To Sce.)
Sceledrus!—Why d'ye stand thus?

Sce.
I'm about
My business:—I have ears;—speak, what's your pleasure?

Pal.
You'll shortly march, I fancy, in this posture
Without the Metian gate, bearing along
A gibbet with your hands spread out thus.

Sce.
Why?

Pal.
Look there,—upon your left.—Who is that woman?

Sce.
Immortal Gods! 'tis she,—our master's lady!

Pal.
And so I think indeed.—Do, prithee now—

Sce.
Do what?—

Pal.
Go, hang yourself this instant.

Phil.
(Advancing.)
Where
Is this good servant, who accus'd me wrongfully
Of indiscretion, me who am most innocent?

Pal.
See! there he is.—He told me.—

Sce.
I did tell you.

Phil.
Villain!—who was it, that you said you saw me
Embracing at next door?

Pal.
A stranger spark,
He said.

Sce.
I said so verily.

Phil.
You saw me?

Sce.
Yes, with these eyes.

Phil.
Those eyes you'll lose, I fancy,
Which see more than they see.

Sce.
By heav'n I never
Can be convinc'd, but what I saw I saw.

Phil.
I am a fool, have too much lack of wit,
To parley with this madman,—whom I'll punish.

Sce.
Pray spare your threats.—I know the gallows waits me,
A sepulchre where all my ancestors
Have gone before me,—father, grandfather,
Great grand-father, and great great grandfather.—
Yet all your menaces can't dig my eyes out.—
A word with you, Palæstrio.—Prithee now
Whence came she hither?

Pal.
Whence but from our house?

Sce.
Our house?

Pal.
And in your sight too.

Sce.
True, I saw her.
(Aside.)
Tis strange, how she got in; for verily
Our house has neither terrace, garden, no
Nor window, but is grated.— (To Phil.)
I am sure
I saw you at next door.

Pal.
What! still persist,
You rascal! to accuse her?

Phil.
In good sooth
The dream I dreamt last night now turns out true.

Pal.
What did you dream?

Phil.
I'll tell you: but I pray you,
Lend me your serious ear.—Last night methought
I saw my sister, my twin-sister, who
Was come from Athens here to Ephesus
With a young spark, and that they lodg'd next door.

Sce.
The dream she's telling is Palæstrio's.

Pal.
On pray.

Phil.
Methought it joy'd me much my sister's coming,
But I lay under a most strong suspicion
On her account: for, as it seem'd, the slave
Appointed me, as is the case ev'n now,
Accused me of caressing a strange spark,
When 'twas my sister fondling with her lover.—
Thus did I dream, myself was falsely censured.

Pal.
The like befalls you waking, which you say
Your sleep presented.—See, how all things tally!
Go in now, and address the Gods.—I think,
You should acquaint the captain with this matter.

Phil.
I am resolv'd to do it:—I'll not suffer
My honour wrongfully to be impeach'd,
And let the insult pass unpunished.

(Goes into the Captain's house.