University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter the PARASITE and a BOY.
PARASITE.
Of a debauch'd, lewd, military man
I am the Parasite, who a mistress brought
With him from Samos, and has order'd me
To go and ask, if she'll pay back the gold,
Or will return with him—Boy—You, who long
Have waited on her, which soe'er's the house,
Knock at it—Hye thee to the door forthwith—
[the Boy goes to knock.
Come back, a mischief on thee!—Look you, how
The graceless scoundrel knocks!—Thou could'st devour
A loaf three feet in width, yet know'st not how
A door to knock at—Ho! Is any one
Within there!—Ho!—Who is within doors? Ho!
[calling.
Who opens me the door?—Who is't comes out?—

SCENE II.

Enter PISTOCLERUS.
Pist.
What is the matter here?—For what's this knocking?
What plague possesses you, thus to exert
Your utmost strength against another's doors?
You've almost broke them down—What is't you'd have?

Par.
Save you, young gentleman!—

Pist.
Save you!—But whom
D'you want?

Par.
Why Bacchis—

Pis.
Which?

Par.
I only know
That I want Bacchis—And to say no more,
Cleomachus the captain sent me to her,
That she two hundred golden Philippæans
Should strait pay back, or go this very day
From hence, with him into Elatia.

Pis.
She does not go—Say you, she does not go.
Be gone, and tell your master this—She loves
Another now, not him—Avoid the house.

Par.
You are too hasty—

Pis.
Don't you know how much so?
Your chaps are in a dangerous situation,
These my tooth-breakers itch so to be doing.

Par.
If right I understand, I must take care
My nut-crackers sit safe within their sockets.
[aside.
At your own peril, I'll return your answer.

Pis.
What say you?—

Par.
Why, I'll tell him what you bid me.

Pis.
Who are you? Say—

Par.
One of his body guard.

Pis.
Who has so bad a guard, can ne'er be good.

Par.
He'll come blown up with rage—

Pis.
Then may he burst!

Par.
Would you ought else?

Pis.
Your absence instantly.
It must be so—

Par.
You—tooth-breaker, farewell.

Pis.
The same farewell to you, you body guard.
[Exit Parasite.
The business now is come to such a point
I know not what advice to give my friend,
Who, in a foolish pet, has to his father
Return'd back all the money; nor has left
A single piece wherewith to pay the captain.
But hark! The doors creak!—Hither I'll retire.
Mnesilochus comes forth; and pensive too—

[stands apart.

SCENE III.

Enter MNESILOCHUS.
Mne.
Born with a froward, inconsiderate temper,
Ungovernable, hot, and without mean,
Or modesty, or equity or honour,
I'm insolent and rude, hard of belief,
Ungracious, sour, and scarcely in my wits,
By nature ill dispos'd—In short, I am
Myself, the very thing I would not wish
Another man to be—And is this credible?
There's not a more unthrifty wretch, nor one
Who less deserves the favour of the gods,
Whom none will make his friend or his companion.
Not friends, but enemies I ought to have—
'Tis fitter I should have the help of knaves,
Than honest men—All the reproach and shame
That knaves deserve, no man's more worthy of.
Who, madman like, have paid back to my father,
The money which I had in hand—And am I not
Myself a wretch?—And Chrysalus's plot
I've ruin'd—

Pis.
It would be a friendly part
In me, to give him comfort—I'll accost him.
[Aside]
How goes it now, Mnesilochus?

Mne.
Undone!—

Pis.
The gods forbid!

Mne.
Undone!

Pis.
Don't talk so, simpleton.

Mne.
Not talk!—

Pis.
You are not in your perfect mind.

Mne.
Undone!—A thousand sharp and poignant griefs
Distract my soul—Should I have credited
The charge!—I have been angry, and have had
No cause.

Pis.
Have a good heart.

Mne.
Whence have it?—Say.
A dead man's of more worth than I am now.

Pis.
The captain's parasite has just been here,
And to demand the money—I have rattled him;
And drove him out of doors—I've chac'd the rogue
Away—

Mne.
And what avail?—Wretch that I am!
What shall I do?—I've now no money left.
He'll carry her off I know—

Pis.
I'd not engage it,
Had I but money—

Mne.
Why, I know you'd give it—
I've known you long—But, was you not in love,
I should not now so readily believe you.
You've too much business of your own at present;
I can't expect, that you, who are in want
Yourself, can possibly assist your friend.

Pis.
Be silent, and some god will send us aid.

Mne.
'Tis trifling!

[going.
Pis.
Stay—

Mne.
Well, what's the matter now?

Pis.
'Tis your sheet anchor Chrysalus, I see.

SCENE IV.

Enter CHRYSALUS.
Chry.
To erect a golden statue to this man,
[pointing to himself.
Is right and fit—He's worth his weight in gold—
Two great exploits have I atchiev'd to-day,
And by them double plunder have I got—
How finely my old master have I bit!
How he's been fool'd!—I with my crafty arts
Persuaded and constrain'd the old crafty cuff
To credit every thing I said—And now
For my young master, for the man in love,
With whom I eat and drink, and sport away,
I have procur'd a royal fund of gold;
That he from his own heaps may take at home,
And not, when he wants money, hunt abroad.
Those Parmeno's, those Syrus's I hate
Who from their master filch two or three minæ.
And the worst thing I know of, is a slave
Who wants a head—whose brains are not well stock'd,
From whence, as need requires, he may draw out.
None can be wise, who is not as expert
In doing mischief, as in doing good—
With knaves to be a knave, and filch—With thieves
A thief, and steal whatever comes to hand—
The prudent man should often shift his shape—
If he is wise indeed, good with the good
He'll ever be, and with the bad, be bad—
Just as things are, so will he frame his humour.
But now I long to know, what share my master
Took of the gold to his own proper use;
And what he paid his father—If he's prudent,
He serv'd him just as they serve Hercules;
Gave him a tenth, and kept nine parts himself.
But see! the person I was looking for—
He in good time approaches— [to him.]
So, my master,
Why with your eyes so fix'd upon the ground?
Is any of your money fal'n upon it?
Why see I you so sorrowful and sad?
I like it not—Nor is my judgement rash—
Why don't you answer me?

Mne.
I'm ruin'd, Chrysalus—

Chry.
Perhaps you took too little of the money?

Mne.
How! knave, too little!—Yes, a monstrous deal
Too little.—

Chry.
Then, why did you, simpleton;
When, by my management, I had procur'd
So fair an opportunity, that you
Might take just what you pleas'd, thus pinch it up
Betwixt your finger and your thumb—Not know
How very seldom such occasions offer?

Mne.
Why, you mistake—

Chry.
Ay, and you did the same
When deep enough you did not dip.

Mne.
In troth,
Did you know more, you'd blame me more—I am ruin'd.

Chry.
My mind forebodes more mischief in these words.

Mne.
I'm ruin'd—

Chry.
How so?

Mne.
I've paid back the gold,
Ay, dust and all—

Chry.
Paid back!—

Mne.
Paid back, I say.—

Chry.
What all?—

Mne.
Ay, to an atom.

Chry.
We're demolish'd.
How could it come into your head, to do
So foul a deed?

Mne.
Why, I from Lydus' charge
Suspected Bacchis, and that young man there,
[pointing to Pistoclerus.
Had play'd me false; and in a fit of wrath
Paid back the money—

Chry.
Well then, and what said you,
When you paid back the money to your father?

Mne.
That I from Archidemides his host,
Had just receiv'd it.

Chry.
How!—That speech to-day
Will drive poor Chrysalus strait to the torture.
For soon as e'er the old man spies me out,
He'll take me into custody at once.

Mne.
My father I've besought—

Chry.
What! I suppose
To do the thing I have been talking of—

Mne.
Nay, not to punish you, not to be angry;
And have, with much ado, prevail'd.—Now Chrysalus,
Here is another business for you still—

Chry.
What other business?—

Mne.
Open a new road.
Contrive, devise, invent just what you please.
Your own way model it, that artfully
This artful man you may deceive to-day,
And carry off the gold.

Chry.
It scarce seems possible.

Mne.
Go on with it, you'll easily effect it.

Chry.
Easily!—Plague on't: but this very now
He caught me in a downright lye—And if
I should intreat him, every thing I say
To disbelieve, he'd not trust even that.

Mne.
Nay, if you heard but what he said of you?

Chry.
Why, what was't that he said of me?

Mne.
He said,
If you affirm'd the sun to be the sun,
He would believe it was the moon; and night,
When now 'tis day.

Chry.
I'll fairly wipe his nose—
I'll warrant him, he shan't say that for nothing.

Mne.
What would you have us do?

Chry.
I've no commands
For you, only proceed in your amours—
As to the rest, demand what sum you please,
I'll give it you—What is't to me to have
The name of gold, and not the thing—But now
What is the sum you want, Mnesilochus?
Tell me—

Mne.
For Bacchis' use, to pay the captain,
I want two hundred pieces—

Chry.
Well—I'll give it you.

Mne.
Then to defray common expences—

Chry.
Ah!—
Let us go on deliberately; and when
One thing is done, we'll set about the next—
'Gainst the old man, for the two hundred pieces
My engine will I first apply—If I
With help of that can batter down the tower,
The outworks; next then at the gate will I
Attack the old and antient town itself;
And, if I carry it, carry to your friends
Baskets of gold, as much as heart can wish.—

Pis.
O Chrysalus, our hopes are plac'd in thee.

Chry.
Now, Pistoclerus, go you in to Bacchis,
And quickly bring—

Pis.
Bring what?

Chry.
A style, and wax,
Some tablets, and some tape—

Pis.
It shall be done.
[Exit Pist.

Mne.
What will you do now? tell me— [to Chry.]
Dinner's ready.

Chry.
There'll be you two—And then your mistress—She
Will make a third—

Mne.
According to your way
Of reckoning.

Chry.
Pistoclerus has no mistress—

Mne.
Nay, but he has—And she is here—I love
One sister, he the other—Both are Bacchis.

Chry.
What do you say?

Mne.
But how accommodated?

Chry.
Where are your couches plac'd?

Mne.
Why ask you that?

Chry.
Why so it is—I wish you'd therefore tell me.
You know not what I am about to do;
Nor what a great exploit I shall attempt.

Mne.
Give me your hand, and follow to the door—
Peep in—

Chry.
[looking into Bacchis's house.]
Huzza! a most delicious place;
And just the very thing that I could wish.

Re-enter PISTOCLERUS.
Pis.
Your orders are obey'd with expedition—
To the obedient, orders are well given—

Chry.
Well—what is't you have brought?

Pis.
Just every thing
You order'd—

Chry.
[to Mne.]
Take the tablets, and the style:
Be quick—

Mne.
What then?

Chry.
Write down then what I bid you.
I'd for this reason have you write, because
Your father, when he reads, may know the hand—
Now write—

Mne.
Write what?

Chry.
Salute your father, but
In your own words—

Pis.
Suppose now he should write
Death and disease? That surely would be better.

Mne.
Don't interrupt us— [writing.]
I've wrote what you order'd.

Chry.
Read it.

Mne.
[reading.]
“Mnesilochus sends health to his father.”

Chry.
Be quick, write this besides—“My father, Chrysalus
“Abuses me in every place, because
“I paid you back the gold, and did not cheat you.”

Pis.
Stay till 'tis wrote—

Chry.
A lover should write quick.

Pis.
He's nimbler far to lavish, than to write.

Mne.
That's wrote—What next?

Chry.
“Now be upon your guard.
“He's forming plots to rob you of the money,
“And has declar'd he certainly will have it.”
Write legibly.

Mne.
You dictate then.

Chry.
“And promises
“The gold to me, which I may give to strumpets,
“And eat and drink, and riot in the stews.
“Beware he don't impose upon you, father.
“I beg you'd be upon your guard.”

Mne.
Say on.

Chry.
Well, write then.

Mne.
Tell me what to write.

Chry.
“I beg you,
“Father, remember what you promised me—
“Not to chastise him, but to keep him bound
“At home”—Give me forthwith the wax and tape.
Come, come, be quick—Tye them and seal them up.

Mne.
What is your reason, pray, for writing this?
That he should give no credit to whate'er
You said, and keep you bound at home?

Chry.
Because
It is my whim—Can't you indulge yourself,
And meddle not with me?—To my own powers
Trusting, this business I at first began;
And 'tis at my own peril I proceed.

Mne.
Why you say true.

Chry.
Give me the letter.

Mne.
Take it.

Chry.
Attend then both of you—You Pistoclerus,
And you Mnesilochus, take to your couches;
Go both, and with your mistresses recline,
And briskly put the glass about, where now
Your couches are prepar'd.

Pis.
Would you ought else?

Chry.
Why this—When you are once sat down, stir not
A foot, till I have given you the signal.

Pis.
An excellent commander!—

Chry.
Why ere this,
You ought to have drank twice—

Mne.
Well then, away.

Chry.
See that you do your duty, I'll do mine.

[Exit. Mne. and Pist.

SCENE V.

CHRYSALUS alone.
Chry.
A matter of great pith I undertake,
And how I shall to-day accomplish it
I have my fears—A churlish, crusty chap
I have to deal with—'Twould not suit my plot,
At our first interview he should be calm—
Well, if I live, I'll turn him well to-day,
And parch him well, as pea was ever parch'd—
I'll walk before the door, and put immediately
The tablet in his hands as he comes out.

SCENE VI.

Enter NICOBULUS.
Nic.
It vexes me, that Chrysalus to-day
Has thus escap'd me—

Chry.
[aside.]
So, so, safe's the word,
The old man's in a passion—Now's the time
For me to accost my man—

Nic.
Who speaks hard by?
'Tis surely Chrysalus—

Chry.
I'll strait accost him.

Nic.
My honest slave, all hail! How fares it with you?
What's on the anvil now? How soon am I
To sail to Ephesus to fetch my gold
Home from Theotimus?—What, art thou speechless?
I swear most solemnly by all the gods,
Had I not lov'd my son so very well,
And wish to please him to his heart's content,
Your sides by this had been well lash'd with rods,
And at the mill you'd spend your life in chains.
All your abominable pranks, I from
Mnesilochus have learn'd.

Chry.
Has he accus'd me?—
Why best of all—I am a knave, a curs'd one,
A wicked knave—Look now to your affairs,
I will not say one word—

Nic.
Do you threaten, hang-dog?

Chry.
You soon will find what kind of man he is.
He order'd me to bring these tablets to you,
And begs, what he has wrote there may be done.

Nic.
Well, give them me.

Chry.
Take notice of the seal.

[giving a tablet.
Nic.
I know it well—Where is he?

Chry.
I can't say.
I need know nothing now—I've every thing
Forgot—I know indeed that I'm a slave.
Ev'n what I know, I am most ignorant of.
Now at the worm, the ouzel through the springe, [aside.]

Is aiming; he'll be fairly noos'd to-day;
So well I've set my snare—

Nic.
So, Chrysalus,
Stay here a little, I'll return directly.
[Exit. Nic.

Chry.
How he dissembles with me!—And how ignorant
He thinks I am of what he's gone about.
He is gone in to fetch his slaves to bind me.
My ship sails right before the wind—She'll safe
Arrive in port—But hush! the doors are opening.

SCENE VII.

Re-enter NICOBULUS with slaves.
Nic.
Here Artamo, bind you his hands forthwith.

Chry.
What have I done?

Nic.
And, if he dares to mutter,
Why, knock him down—What says this tablet? Ha!

Chry.
Why ask you me?—I gave it to you seal'd,
As I from him receiv'd it.

Nic.
Answer, rascal!
Have you not frequently in talk abus'd
My son, because he gave me back the gold?
Have you not said, that notwithstanding that,
By your base acts you'd get the gold again?

Chry.
Have I said so?

Nic.
You have.

Chry.
Where is the man,
Who dares affirm I said it?

Nic.
Peace—No man says so.
The tablet which you gave but now, convicts you.
Look here—'Tis this commands you to be bound.

[shewing the tablet.
Chry.
Your son has made me a Bellerophon.
I am myself the bearer of a tablet,
Which orders me in bonds—Well—Be it so.

Nic.
This I do only, that you may persuade
My son, that he may drink and riot with you,
You threefold villain.

Chry.
Fool, O silly fool!
You know not now you are on sale, and stand
Upon the stone, where stands the auctioneer.

Nic.
Who sells me? Say—

Chry.
He whom the gods protect.
The youth is dying, whilst he is in health,
And has his senses and his judgement sound.
This man, had any good regarded him,
Ten years, ay more, full twenty years ago,
Had left the world—He crawls, a useless weight
Upon the earth, and neither judgement has,
Nor yet his senses—He's worth just as much
As a stale, rotten mushroom.

Nic.
Do you think
That I'm a useless weight upon the earth?
Away with him, and tye him to the post—
You shall not take away the gold from me.

Chry.
No, you will give it me.

Nic.
I give it you!

Chry.
Nay, to receive it, of your own accord
You will intreat me, when you come to know
In what a dangerous situation
My accuser is, you'll offer Chrysalus
His freedom; nor will Chrysalus accept it.

Nic.
Tell me, thou villain, tell me, what's the danger
Mnesilochus, my son, is in?

Chry.
Then this way
Follow, and you shall know.

Nic.
And whither follow?

Chry.
Only three steps—

Nic.
Ay ten steps, if you will.

Chry.
A match—Come on then—Artamo, do you
Open the door a little way—So—gently—
Don't make it creak—So—That's enough—Come hither—
[to Nicobulus.
Do you not see the entertainment?

Nic.
[looking in.]
Yes,
I Pistoclerus see, and Bacchis opposite.

Chry.
And who do you see upon the other couch?

Nic.
Wretch, I'm undone!

Chry.
Say, do you know the man?

Nic.
I do.

Chry.
Now tell me your opinion, pray—
Do you think the woman handsome?

Nic.
Very handsome.

Chry.
And do you take her for a strumpet?

Nic.
Certainly.

Chry.
You're quite mistaken.

Nic.
Well, who is she then?

Chry.
Discover that yourself—In this affair
You'll not by me be wiser made to-day.

SCENE VIII.

Enter CLEOMACHUS.
Cleo.
How!—Nicobulus' son Mnesilochus,
By downright violence detain my mistress!
What an abominable deed!

Nic.
Who's this?

Chry.
[aside.]
The captain's opportunely come.

Cleo.
He deems me
A woman rather than a soldier sure, who can't
Defend myself nor mine; no, nor Bellona,
Nor even Mars, believe me e'er again,
If I don't make of him a lifeless corse:
If I should chance to meet with him, I'll separate
His body from his soul.

Nic.
Who is it, Chrysalus?
This man, I say, that threatens so my son?

Chry.
The husband of the punk upon the couch with him.

Nic.
Her husband, say you?

Chry.
Yes, her husband, sir.

Nic.
What! is she married then?

Chry.
You'll know anon.

Nic.
Wretch that I am, I'm utterly undone!

Chry.
Does Chrysalus appear a villain now?
Come, bind me; and now hearken to your son.
Did I not tell you, you'd discover soon
What sort of man he is—

Nic.
What shall I do?

Chry.
Why, order me to be unbound forthwith;
If I am not, he'll crush him e'en to death.

Cleo.
To catch these lovers in each other's arms,
That I might kill them both, would better please me,
Than would a mint of money.

Chry.
Don't you hear
What he is saying?—Why not order me
To be unbound?—

Nic.
Unbind him, slaves—I'm ruin'd—
[they unbind him.
Wretch that I am, O what a fright I'm in!

Cleo.
Then she, that publick prostitute, shan't say,
She's found a man to make a laughing-stock—

Chry.
You may make up this matter for a trifle.

Nic.
Prithee, then make it up for what you will,
So he don't catch him in the fact, and kill him.

Cleo.
If I have not two hundred Philippæans
Paid me down rug, I'll swallow both their souls.

Nic.
Come into terms with him if possible;
Agree with him for any sum—

[to Chrysalus.
Chry.
I'll go
And do my best— [to Cleomachus.]
Why do you clamour so?

Cleo.
Where is your master?

Chry.
No where—How should I know?
Would you have promis'd you two hundred pieces,
To make no riot, nor no brawling here?

Cleo.
Nought I desire more—

Chry.
And that I may
Abuse you soundly—

Cleo.
To your heart's content—

Chry.
[aside.]
How civilly the rascal fawns upon us!
This is the father of Mnesilochus—
[aloud.
Follow me then—Demand of him the money.
He will engage for't—I need say no more—

Nic.
Well, how go matters—

[to Chry.
Chry.
I have made the bargain,
And for two hundred Philippæans paid him.

Nic.
Well done!—My goddess Salus, thou hast sav'd me.
How soon am I to tell him I will pay it?

Chry.
Ask him [to Cleo.]
And you now promise him the money?

[to Nicobulus.]
Nic.
I do— [to Cleo.]
Come ask me.

Cleo.
Well then—Will you give me
Two hundred Philippæans, lawful money?—
Say, will you give them? Answer—

Nic.
I will give them.

Chry.
Well, what now, filth, is there aught owing to you?
What have you now to plague him with? What now,
To frighten him with death? Both he and I
Will do you some ill turn—If you've a sword,
We have a spit at home—If you provoke me,
With that I'll make your skin a cullender.
By Hercules! I found, some time ago,
What the suspicion was that harass'd you.
You thought my master with your wife.

Cleo.
And so
He is—

Chry.
And so may Jupiter, and Juno,
May Ceres and Latona, Pallas, Spes,
May Ops, may Virtus, Venus, Castor, Pollux,
Mars, Mercury, Hercules, Summanus, Sol,
Saturn, and every god so prosper me,
As he reclines not with her on the couch,
Nor walks with her, nor kisses her, nor does
What fame, that lying jade, reports of him.

Nic.
Gods! how he swears!—He'll save me by his perjury!

Cleo.
Where then at this time is Mnesilochus?

Chry.
His father's just into the country sent him,
And she's gone to the citadel, to visit
Pallas's temple—The doors open now,
Go see if she is there.

Cleo.
I'll go—But, to the forum.

Chry.
Or rather to the gallows—

Cleo.
And may I
To-day demand the money of him?

Chry.
Yes—
Demand it, and go hang yourself—Do you think
That I would stay here to intreat you, scoundrel!
[Exit Cleomachus.
So—He's mov'd off—By the immortal gods!
I beg you, master, give me leave to go
In hither to your son.

Nic.
Why, go in there?

Chry.
That I may, since in such a way he acts,
With many words correct him.

Nic.
Prithee, do so.
And, Chrysalus, take 'special care, I beg you,
You do not spare him.

Chry.
You pretend to instruct me!
Is't not sufficient, if from me to-day
He hear more sharp reproaches, than e'er Clinia
Heard from Demetrius.—

[Exit.
Nic.
This fellow here,
Is like a watery eye—which, if you have not,
You never wish for it—But if you have it,
You can't keep off your hands from rubbing it.
For had he not, by great good luck, to-day
Been here, his wife and my Mnesilochus
The captain had surpriz'd, and her gallant
Had murder'd, caught so plainly in the fact.
Now in some sort have I redeem'd my son
With these two hundred Philippæans, which
I promised to give the captain—But
I will not be so rash to pay him, till
I've seen my son—By Pollux' temple! lightly
I shall not trust again this Chrysalus
In any thing—But I've a mind to read
These tablets once again—It is but right
That, when they're seal'd, I should give credit to them.

SCENE IX.

Re-enter CHRYSALUS, with a bag of money.
Chry.
Renown'd the deed!—And Atreus' sons obtain'd
Immortal fame; what time, when Priam's Troy
Founded by hands divine, with horse and arms,
And bands of men, by chosen warriors led,
And with a thousand sail of ships, was sack'd
In twice five years—Old Peleus' son was not
An engine of such force as I; who have
Without a fleet, an army, or so great
An host of men, my master's castle storm'd—
I have subdu'd, and taken from his father
The money for my master, who's in love.
Let me, or e'er he comes, weep o'er the loss—
O Troy! my country, Pergamus, O Priam!
Old Sophister, you're ruin'd—Most unhappily
Four hundred Philippæans you are chous'd of.
The tablets seal'd, and counterseal'd I bring:
They are not tablets, but the wooden horse,
The Grecians sent to Troy; and Pistoclerus
Epius is. His scheme—Mnesilochus
Is Sinon, left behind—See where he is,
Not at Achilles' tomb, but on a couch
With Bacchis in his arms—Sinon had fire
To give the Greeks a signal—Bacchis is
His flame—And I Ulysses am, whose counsels
The stratagem conduct—And the contents
Of these same tablets are the soldiers arm'd
And spirited, inclos'd within the horse—
Thus far our scheme has met with more success
Than the Greeks met with—Not the citadel,
It is the coffer which this horse attacks;
And to the old man's money, will to-day
Bring ruin and destruction—With great truth
To this old fool, I give the name of Troy—
The captain Menelaus is, and I
Both Agamemnon, and Laertes' son
Ulysses: and Mnesilochus is Paris,
Who was to be the ruin of his country—
Helen he took by force.—On her account
I now lay siege to Troy—And I have heard,
What I am now, Ulysses was, a bold
And mischief-enterprizing man—And I
Am in my stratagems detected—He
In rags discover'd, narrowly escap'd,
Whilst he was searching out the fate of Troy:
Not unlike his, has been my hap to-day—
I have been bound; but by my art escap'd—
So he by artifice preserv'd himself—
I've heard three destinies attended Troy;
Either of which were fatal—If the image
Should from the citadel be stol'n away—
Another, Troilus' death—A third,
When th'upper lintel of the Scæan gate
Should be demolish'd—Similar to these,
Three fates attend our Troy—And for the first,
When of the host, the money, and the bark
To the old man I told the fabulous tale,
Then the Palladium from the fort I took—
Two destinies remain'd; else I should not
Have sack'd the town—When I the tablets brought,
Then I kill'd Troilus—When he suppos'd
Mnesilochus was with the captain's wife,
With much ado I disengag'd myself—
This danger I compare to what Ulysses,
When he was known by Helen, underwent;
And was betray'd to Hecuba, as says
Report—But by his soothing arts, himself
He freed, and his escape his tongue procur'd—
So, by my art, this danger I've escap'd,
And the old man deceiv'd—I then engag'd
The blustering captain; he who takes, unarm'd,
A city with his tongue; and drove him off—
Then the old fellow fist to fist I fought,
And with a single lye I conquer'd him,
By which one stroke I bore away the spoils—
Two hundred Philippæans to the captain,
According to his promise, will he give—
Now Troy is sack'd, we want two hundred more,
To be distributed amongst the soldiers;
That with rich wine they may rejoice their hearts.
Our Priam far excells Priam of old—
Not only fifty, but four hundred sons
He has; all without blemish, pick'd and choice.
All these, this day, I with two single strokes
Will clean cut off—And now for our old Priam—
Could I but find a purchaser, I'd sell
This venerable piece, whom I shall have
For sale, as soon as I have storm'd the town—
But see, our Priam standing at the gate,
I'll go and speak to him.

Nic.
Whose voice sounds near me?

Chry.
Hist! Nicobulus!

Nic.
Well—What ar't about?
Have you done ought in the affair, on which
I sent you?—

Chry.
Ask you that?—Come nearer to me.

Nic.
Well, well, I do so.

Chry.
I'm an orator
Most excellent—By rating him with all
The bitter terms I could devise, I forc'd
The water down his cheeks.

Nic.
And what then said he?

Chry.
Why, not a syllable—But weeping, heard
In silence all I said—Nor open'd once
His lips—He then a tablet wrote and seal'd it;
Then bade me bring it you—It sings, I fear,
The same vile song, the other tablet sang.
You know the seal, is't his?

Nic.
I know it well—
I have a mind to read it—

Chry.
Read it then—
The upper lintel shakes—Now Troy's in danger—
And rarely well the wooden horse performs.

Nic.
Come hither, Chrysalus, while I read the tablet—

Chry.
What need is there of that?

Nic.
I'll have it so—
That you may do what I command, and know
What here is wrote.

Chry.
I care not what is wrote—
Nor would I know—

Nic.
But come—

Chry.
Why should I come?

Nic.
Peace, and obey—

Chry.
I come—

Nic.
Bless me! how small
The letters are!—

Chry.
To one who sees but ill—
To those of better sight, they're large enough.

Nic.
Attend—

Chry.
I say, I'll not.

Nic.
I say, you shall.

Chry.
What need of it?

Nic.
What I command you, do.

Chry.
'Tis right, your slave should serve you in the way
You like.—

Nic.
Now mind the business.

Chry.
When you please,
Read out—My ears are all attention to you.

Nic.
Truly he has not spar'd or wax, or style.
But be that as it may, I'll read it through.
“Sir, I beseech you, give to Chrysalus,
[reading.
“At sight of this, two hundred Philippæans,
“As you'd preserve my safety and my life.”

Chry.
I can't but curse you now, by Hercules!

Nic.
Why, what's the matter?

Chry.
He don't send you health.

Nic.
I do not find that out.

Chry.
If in your senses,
You will not give the money—If you give him
Ever so much, let him, if he is wise,
Find out some other porter—I'll not carry it,
Be your injunctions e'er so strict—You have
Suspected me enough, when I've been innocent.

Nic.
Well, well, attend while I read what is wrote.

Chry.
From the beginning, 'tis a saucy letter.

Nic.
[reading.]
“I am asham'd to appear before you, sir;
“I'm told, you know of my debaucheries,
“And my intriguing with the captain's wife.”
Troth, that's no jest, but serious, sober sadness.
Two hundred Philippæans have I promis'd
Because of that foul deed, to save your life.

Chry.
And everything of this I've told him of.

Nic.
[reading.[
“I've acted foolishly, I own; but, father,
“Tho' in my duty I have fail'd, I beg you,
“Go not so far, to leave me in my folly—
“Push'd on my fierce desire, my eyes became
“My masters, and I've done a frontless deed
“I blush at now, and am asham'd of it.”
Better it were that you had taken heed
Before, than now to be asham'd.

Chry.
I said
The same to him word for word, not long ago.

Nic.
[reading.]
“My father, I intreat you, think it is
“Enough, that Chrysalus has most severely
“With many, many cutting words reproach'd me;
“And, as I trust, has, by these precepts, made me
“A better man—'Tis just you thank him for it.”

Chry.
Is that there in the letter?—

Nic.
Look and see,
And then you'll know.

Chry.
How humble is to all,
And of his own accord, the guilty man!

Nic.
[reading.]
“If, father, I may now presume to offer
“My humble suit, two hundred Philippæans
“I beg of you”—

Chry.
Not one, unless you're mad.
By Hercules! not one—

Nic.
Let me read on—
[reading.]
“That is the sum I solemnly have sworn
“To give the woman, e're at night she leaves me.
“Let me not now, my father, be forsworn—
“And with all speed remove me from her house;
“From her, on whose account I've spent so much;
“And have been guilty of so foul a crime.
“And let not, sir, the money give you pain—
“If I should live, I'll pay you back three-fold—
“Father, farewell, and think upon these things—”
Now what is your opinion, Chrysalus?

Chry.
I can give no advice in this affair,
Nor will I interfere, lest you should say,
If ought goes wrong, 'twas done by my advice.
But yet, in my opinion, was I you,
I'd rather give the money, than I'd suffer him
To be debauch'd—You have a double choice—
Take heed which way you take, either to lose
The gold, or let the lover be forsworn.
I order not, forbid not, nor persuade.

Nic.
I pity him—

Chry.
I wonder not you should.
He is your son—If more was to be spent,
It would be sweeter far to waste your money,
Than publish his disgrace among the herd—

Nic.
By Pollux! I'd much rather he had been
At Ephesus, so he'd been safe and well,
Than that to me he had come home again.
Since it must go, why don't I speed its going?
I'll now fetch twice two hundred Philippæans,
Wretch that I am! those which I had engag'd
To pay the captain, and these two besides.—
You, Chrysalus, stay here—I'll strait return.

[Exit.
Chry.
Troy's now laid waste, the chiefs have storm'd the town.
I knew long since, that I should ruin Pergamus.
'Troth I dare wager no great sum with him,
Who says, that I deserve to suffer torture,
Such bustle and confusion here I make—
But the door creaks—They're bringing out the plunder
From this our Troy—'Tis time to hold my tongue.

Re-enter NICOBULUS.
Nic.
Here, take this money—Bear it to my son—
I'll to the Forum strait, and pay the captain.

Chry.
I'll not receive it—Go and seek one out
To bear it to him—I will not be trusted.

Nic.
Nay take it—Now you teize me—

Chry.
I'll not take it—

Nic.
I prithee do—

Chry.
I tell you but the truth.

Nic.
You only hinder me—

Chry.
I tell you plainly,
Trust not with me the money—Or at least
Provide a guard to watch my motions, sir—

Nic.
Enough, enough, you teize me—

Chry.
Give it me,
Since it must be so—

Nic.
Here, take care of it.
[giving the money.
I'll return hither back immediately.
[Exit Nic.

Chry.
Yes, I have taken care that you shall be
A miserable man—Well, this it is
To bring a business to a good conclusion—
As in my own case now—Loaded with plunder,
How I rejoice—The town reduc'd by stratagem,
Ourselves all safe, I bring my army home
Intire—Spectators, wonder not, I don't
Appear in triumph—'Tis a common thing—
I do not value it—But let the men
Be entertain'd with a good cup of wine.
I'll now bear all the spoils unto the Questor—

[Exit.

SCENE X.

Enter PHILOXENUS.
Phil.
The more I twist and turn it in my thoughts,
What strange disturbances my son has rais'd;
In what amours he has engag'd himself,
And headlong rush'd into, the more I fear;
The more is my concern, lest he should be
Debauch'd and ruin'd—I have not forgot it—
I once was in my prime, and did all this
Myself—But then 'twas in a decent manner—
I can't but disapprove the present mode
That fathers use in managing their sons.
I've had my wench, and brought her home with me,
Indulg'd myself in feasts and drinking-bouts—
Have given presents—But these things were seldom.
So I resolv'd to give my son some liberty
To gratify his youthful inclinations—
I thought it was but right: but not to indulge
In sloth and idleness—I'll now go see
Whether Mnesilochus has brought back my son
To virtue and sobriety—And that
I'm sure he has done, if he has met with him—
For that's his disposition from his infancy.

[Exit.