University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter STROBILUS, with ANTHRAX and CONGRIO, Cooks, Musick-Girls, and others carrying provisions.
STROBILUS.
After my master had bought these provisions,
And hir'd these Cooks and Musick-Girls, he bade me
Divide them equally into two parts.

Cong.
In troth you shan't split me, I tell you bluntly:
If you will have me whole, I'm at your service.

Strob.
You put a wrong construction on my words.—
My master's to be marry'd.

Cong.
Ay? to whom?

Srob.
The daughter of our neighbour here, old Euclio;
And therefore he has bid me give him half
Of these provisions, with one Cook, one Musick-Girl.

Anth.
So he's to have one half, and you the other.

Strob.
Just as you say.

Anth.
What! could not he himself
Make entertainment at his daughter's wedding?

Strob.
Pshaw!

Anth.
What's the matter?

Strob.
What's the matter, ask you?
A pumice-stone is not so dry as he.

Anth.
And is it as you say?

Strob.
Be judge yourself.
He's ever crying out on Gods and men
That he is ruin'd, absolutely murder'd,
If any smoke comes from his kitchen-chimney.
Nay, when he goes to bed, he ties a bag
Close to his gullet.

Anth.
Why?

Strob.
That he mayn't lose
The smallest portion of his breath in sleeping.

Anth.
And does he stop his lower wind-pipe up
For the same reason?

Strob.
You may credit me,
As I do you.

Anth.
Well, well then, I believe you.

Strob.
Do you know further? he will even weep
To throw away the water he has wash'd with.

Anth.
Think you, we can persuade the old curmudgeon
To give us a round sum to buy our freedom?

Strob.
Were you to ask for hunger, he'd refuse you.
When t'other day the barber cut his nails,
He gather'd up and brought away the parings.

Anth.
'Tis a most stingy wretch, as you describe him.
Is he so sordid? does he live so miserably?

Strob.
A kite once stole his scrap of supper: strait
Our don went howling to the Prætor, begging him
To make the thief give bail for his appearance.
A thousand other things I could relate,
If I had leisure.—Tell me, which of you
Is the most nimble-finger'd?

Anth.
I by much.

Strob.
I mean by way of cook, and not a thief.

Anth.
I say a cook.

Strob.
(to Cong.)
And what do you say?

Cong.
I am
Just as you see me.

Anth.
He's a paltry cook,
Fit to dress nothing but the feral suppers.

Cong.
Why how now, rascal? dare you to abuse me?
You rogue of rogues, you double, triple knave!

Strob.
Be quiet you.—The fattest of the lambs—

Cong.
Is seen with half an eye—

Strob.
Do you take, Congrio,
And go in there.
(Pointing to Euclio's house.
And do you follow him.
(To a Musick-Girl, and some of the Attendants.
The others come along with me.

Anth.
In troth
You have not made a fair division: they
Have got the fattest of the lambs.

Strob.
But you
Shall have the fattest of the Musick-Girls.
You, Phrygia, do you go with him; and you,
Eleusium, come with us.

Cong.
O Strobilus,
You are a cunning fellow: you have fix'd me
In here upon this old curmudgeon, where,
If any thing be wanting, we may bawl
Till we are hoarse again, before we get it.

Strob.
You are a blockhead, an ungrateful fellow.
Would any one bestow a kindness, when
'Tis thrown away upon you?

Cong.
How?

Strob.
D'ye ask?
First, you will have no crowd there in that house;
And what you want for use, you'll bring with you,
That you may lose no time in asking for it.
Now at our house there is a monstrous crowd;
Many in family, a tribe of servants,
Rich furniture, fine cloaths, and costly plate.
If any thing be missing (as I know
'Tis easy for you to refrain, if nothing
Lies in your way) they'll cry,—The Cooks have stol'n it;
Seize on them, bind them, flog them, thrust the rascals
Into a dungeon.—Nothing of this kind
Can happen to you yonder, where there's nothing
For you to steal.—Then follow me.

Cong.
I follow.
(Strobilus goes up to Euclio's house.
Hola, old Staphila,—open the door.

Staphila.
(within)
Who calls there?

Strob.
Strobilus.

SCENE II.

Enter STAPHILA.
Staph.
What is't you want?

Strob.
Take in these Cooks, this Musick-Girl, and these
Provisions for the wedding.—Megadorus
Has order'd me to send them in to Euclio.

Staph.
This wedding is in honour then of Ceres?

Strob.
Why?

Staph.
As I understand, you've brought no wine.

Strob.
But 'twill be brought anon, when Sir returns
From market.

Staph.
We have got no fire-wood.

Cong.
How?
Have you no beams?

Staph.
Yes sure.

Cong.
There's wood enough then.

Staph.
Why, filthy rogue! wouldst have us fire the house,
That you may dress the supper, and be paid for't?

Cong.
Nay, nay, I am not so unconscionable.

Strob.
Prithee now shew them in.

Staph.
Come, follow me.

[Staphila, Cooks, &c. go into Euclio's house, and Strobilus with the rest go into Megadorus's.

SCENE III.

PYTHODICUS.
Keep a sharp watch.—I'll have an eye to what
These cooks are doing.—Verily it requires
The utmost circumspection to look after them,
Except that I could make them dress the victuals
Down under-ground, and draw it up in baskets.
But then if they should eat as fast as cook;
Our 'bove-stair gentry would go empty-bellied,
While those below have stuff'd their guts in plenty.
But I keep chattering here, as though I had
No business, when our house is full of thieves.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Enter EUCLIO.
I would at last have found it in my heart
T'have done things handsome at my daughter's wedding.
I come to th'market,—ask the price of fish,—
I find it very dear,—lamb dear,—beef dear,—
Veal dear,—nay, ev'ry thing in short was dear:
What made them dearer still, I had not money.
Seeing that there was nothing I could purchase,
I came away in rage, and bid adieu
To the vile rascals. As I trudg'd along,
I with myself reflected, “Feast to-day
“Makes Fast to-morrow.” So I brought my mind
And stomach to this wise resolve,—to marry
My daughter with as little charge as possible.
I've therefore only bought this frankincense,
And these few wreaths of flow'rs, to place upon
The hearth in honour to our Houshold God,
That he may smile upon my daughter's nuptials.
(Going up to his house)
But ha! what do I see?—The door is open!
And there's a noise within! I'm robb'd, I'm plunder'd.

Congrio.
(within)
Go borrow, if you can, a larger Pot
Among the neighbourhood: this is too little;
It will not hold enough.

Eucl.
O I'm undone!
They've seiz'd my gold, they're asking for my Pot.
I'm a dead man, if I don't run this instant.
Apollo, come to my assistance, kill
These robbers with your arrows: you have help'd me
Upon a like occasion heretofore.
But why do I delay from running in,
Before I'm ruin'd past recovery?

[Runs in hastily.