University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Enter ANTIPHO and PAMPHILIPPUS.
ANTIPHO.
As heaven shall save me, and continue long
The blessing of my daughters, I rejoice
To see your brother and yourself return'd
In safety home, after your prosperous voyage.

Pam.
You've said enough; did I not know your friendship,
Your goodness oft experienc'd heretofore,
Gives credit to your words—

Ant.
I'd ask you home
To sup with me, but that your brother told me,
When he invited me, you supp'd with him.
It were indeed more proper, that you both
Went home with me, and supp'd after your voyage,
Than I with him:—But that I'll not contend—
Nor think I mean to insinuate myself—
But you and he, and both your wives, to-morrow
Shall spend with me—

Pam.
And the next day with me.
He yesterday engag'd me for to-day.
But are we, Antipho, well reconcil'd?

Ant.
Since, as I wish'd, you've thriven in the world,
Peace, as 'tween friends it ought, be then between us,
And intercourse.—For let me tell you this—
According as men thrive, their friends are true;
Go their affairs to wreck, their friends sink with them.—
Fortune finds friends.—

Enter EPIGNOMUS.
Epig.
Well, I am now at home,
And being so, one feels too great's the pleasure,
When after absence, one finds all things well.
My wife has ta'en such care of my affairs
While I was absent, I've no doubt remains.—
My brother Pamphilippus, with his father!

Pam.
Epignomus, how fares it?

Epig.
How with you?
How long is't since you reach'd the port?

Pam.
Some time.

Epig.
What! and since that, all's calm 'tween him and you?

Ant.
Calm as the sea, which brought you both to shore.

Epig.
'Tis of a piece, consistent with yourself.
Shall we unlade to-day?

Pam.
Softly, good Sir,
Better we lade ourselves with something good.
How long to supper?—I've not din'd to-day.

Epig.
Go in with me, and bathe.

Pam.
I'll but step home,
Just in, and thank the gods, and greet my wife.

Epig.
Your wife is coming hither, with her sister.

Pam.
That's well.—I shall go back the sooner then.
I will be with you presently—

Ant.
Stay and hear
A story e're you go, you and your brother.

Epig.
With all my heart.

Ant.
Once on a time there was
An old man, as I am—He had two daughters,
As I may have; and married to two brothers,
As mine may be to you.

Pam.
I wonder how
This story will turn out.

[aside.
Ant.
The younger of them
Brought a fine girl home with him from abroad,
That sang and play'd—as you may now have done.
The old man was a widower, as now I am.

Pam.
Proceed.—The story seems to come in pat.

[aside.
Ant.
When th'old man said to him who own'd the girl,
As I may say to you—

Pam.
Well, I attend,
And hear you every word.

Ant.
I've given you
My daughter for a bedfellow; and 'tis right
You should provide a bedfellow for me.

Pam.
Now who says that?—Is it as you may say.

Ant.
'Tis just as I may say to you—Take two,
Returns the youngster, if one's not enough:
If two be not sufficient, take two more.

Pam.
Who, Sir, I pray, speaks now?—He, as 'twere I?

Ant.
He, as 'twere you—The same.—The old man then
He, as 'twere I, an't please you, cries out, four—
Provided that you pay me for their board,
Else they will eat me up.—

Pam.
The old man sure
Must be a stingy fellow to say that;
To ask their board after so free an offer.

Ant.
The young man rather was a sneaking fellow,
That could refuse, tho' ask'd, a grain of wheat.
As he had given a portion for his daughter,
'Twas fit he should receive one with the girl.

Pam.
Methinks the young man acted with discretion,
When he refus'd a portion for the girl.

Ant.
Th'old man would gladly have hook'd in a maintenance;
But finding that impossible, he said
He'd take her on such terms as he could have.
Done! cried the youngster—Well, done! cries the old one—
Is it a bargain, one says—'Tis, says t'other.
But I'll go in, congratulate my daughters,
And after to the javelin, where I'll bathe,
And cocker up my age. Then I'll await you
After my bath, at ease upon my couch.

[Exit.
Pam.
A curious fellow, this old Antipho!
How workman-like he put his tale together!
The rogue would fain be young again—But he
Shall have his bedfellow to keep him warm;
I know no other use for one he has.—
How fares our Parasite Gelasimus?
Is he in health?

Epig.
I saw the rogue but now.

Pam.
How goes he on?

Epig.
Like one that is half starv'd.

Pam.
'Tis pity that you ask'd him not to supper.

Epig.
It were ill luck to be a loser now
At my arrival—See, speak of the wolf,
And you may see his tail—The prowling beast
Is just upon you—

Pam.
Shall we make sport with him?

Epig.
You speak my thoughts—