University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

DORIPPA, SYRA
following.
My husband having sent to let me know
He could not follow me into the country,
Like a true woman, I return'd to Athens,
In quest of him, who seems to fly from me.
—But where's our Syra?—I don't see her.—Heav'n!
How slow she comes!
Enter SYRA.
Why don't you follow faster?

Syr.
Good faith, I can't, with all the load I carry.

Dor.
A load! what load?

Syr.
Why fourscore years and four:
Which, with fatigue, and slavery, and thirst,
Weigh me quite down.

Dor.
Well, give me something, Syra,
To offer at our neighbour-altar.

Syr.
Take
This branch of laurel.

Dor.
Now go in.

Syr.
I go.

(Goes in.
Dor.
(at the altar)
Apollo! I beseech you to grant peace,
And health and safety to our family;
And to my son prosperity!

Syr.
(within)
Ah me!
Ah well-a-day! ah woful day! ah me!

Dor.
Why, how now? are you mad? what means this howling?

Syr.
(entering)
Dorippa! ma'am! Dorippa!

Dor.
Why d'ye bawl thus?

Syr.
Here's a strange woman in the house.

Dor.
What woman?

Syr.
A harlot-woman.

Dor.
Is it possible?

Syr.
Troth, you were very wise to come to town.
She were a fool indeed, who could not see
This woman was your pretty husband's mistress.

Dor.
My mind misgives me, you are in the right.

Syr.
In then with me, my Juno! and behold
Your harlotry Alcmena!

Dor.
In, in, Syra!
I follow you as fast as possible.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

LYSIMACHUS
alone.
Is't not enough that Demipho's in love,
But he must be extravagant besides?
Had he invited ten grandees to supper,
He has prepar'd too lavishly; and then
He follows up the cooks, as earnestly
As pilots urge the sailors in a ship.
I hir'd the master-cook myself; and wonder
He is not come according to my order.
—But our door opens: who is this comes forth?

SCENE III.

Enter at a distance DORIPPA.
Dor.
(to herself)
There never was, never will be, a wife
More wretched than myself. Ah, what a husband!
Unhappy that I am! From this time forth
Be cautious, women, whom ye trust in marriage.
What, I! who brought a fortune of ten talents!
That I should see, and suffer such affronts!

Lys.
(behind)
Ha! I am lost: my wife is come to town,
And has found out this wench, I warrant you.
—But at this distance I can't hear.—I'll nearer.

Dor.
Ah, woe is me!

Lys.
And me.

Dor.
Undone!

Lys.
And I.
No doubt but she has seen her.—All the Gods
Confound you, Demipho!

Dor.
Ay, this it was
Prevented him from coming out of town.

Lys.
I'll go, and speak to her. (Goes up)
Good morrow, wife!
—Our town-folks grow mere rusticks.

Dor.
But they act
More modestly, than they who don't grow rusticks.

Lys.
What! have the rusticks been in fault?

Dor.
Much less
Than folks in town, and do themselves less mischief.

Lys.
Prithee, what mischief do the folks in town?

Dor.
What wench is that within?

Lys.
You've seen her then?

Dor.
I've seen her.

Lys.
And, “Who is she,” do you ask?

Dor.
Ay, to be sure; and I'll know too. You know.

Lys.
You'd have me tell you “who she is,” you say.
She—she—Confusion! what shall I reply?

(Aside.
Dor.
What! do you falter?

Lys.
I've not seen her.—

Dor.
Tell me!

Lys.
Give me but leave, I will.

Dor.
You should ere now.

Lys.
You press me so, it is impossible:
You question me, as if I were to blame.

Dor.
Oh, to be sure, you're not at all to blame!

(ironically.
Lys.
Say what you please.

Dor.
Speak you!

Lys.
I will.

Dor.
Then speak!

Lys.
She's—Would you have me tell her name?

Dor.
You trifle.
I've catch'd you. You're in fault.

Lys.
What fault? She is—

Dor.
Who is she?

Lys.
(hesitating)
She—

Dor.
See there!

Lys.
Plague take her name!
Did not I long to tell it, I should hit on't.

Dor.
You don't know who she is then?

Lys.
Very well.
I am her judge.

Dor.
Her judge? Oh! now I have it.
You've call'd her here to be you're counsellor.

(ironically.
Lys.
No; she is left with me, as arbiter.

Dor.
(ironically)
I understand.

Lys.
Nay, not as you imagine.

Dor.
You clear yourself too soon.

(ironically.
Lys.
This bitter business
Has prov'd too much for me. I'm quite aground.

(Aside.

SCENE IV.

Enter the COOK, with SERVANTS.
Cook.
Quick! quick! make haste! for I must dress a supper
For an old gentleman in love.—Tho' truly
'Tis for ourselves we dress it, not for him.
For give a lover but his paramour,
He feasts on Her; to languish, and embrace,
To kiss, and chat, is meat and drink to him.
But we, I trust, shall go well loaded home.
This way!—But here's th'old gentleman that hir'd us.

Lys.
The Cook here too! Undone again!

Cook.
(to Lys.)
We're come.

Lys.
Go back again.

Cook.
Go back again!—Why so?

Lys.
Hist! get away, I tell you.

Cook.
Get away?

Lys.
Be gone.

Cook.
What! don't you want a supper, Sir?

Lys.
We've supp'd already.—Now I'm quite undone.

(Aside.
Dor.
What! have the folks, who chose you arbiter,
Order'd in these provisions too?

Cook.
Is this
Your mistress, that you told me of at market?

Lys.
Hush!

Cook.
A good pretty tidy wench enough:
And her mouth waters at a man, I warrant.

Lys.
Hence, rascal!

Cook.
Faith, she's not amiss.

Lys.
Confusion!

(Aside.
Cook.
And, I dare say, a charming bedfellow!

Lys.
Won't you be gone?—It was not I that hir'd you.

Cook.
Not you? 'Fore heaven, your own self.

Lys.
Undone!

(Aside.
Cook.
By the same token too, you let me know
Your wife was in the country, whom you loath'd
Worse than a serpent.

Lys.
Did I tell you so?

Cook.
Ay, that you did.

Lys.
So help me Jupiter,
As I ne'er utter'd such a word, sweet wife!

Dor.
Can you deny it?

Cook.
No; he did not say
He loath'd you, mistress, but his wife.

Dor.
'Tis plain
That I am your aversion.

Lys.
I deny it.

Cook.
And he said too, his wife was in the country.

Lys.
This is she, sirrah!—Why d'ye plague me thus?

Cook.
Because you said you did not know me.—What!
Are you afraid of Her?

Lys.
And well I may;
For I have none beside.

Cook.
Will you employ me?

Lys.
No.

Cook.
Pay me then.

Lys.
You shall be paid to-morrow.
Be gone at present.

Dor.
What a wretch I am!

Lys.
'Tis an old saying, and I find a true one,
That a bad neighbour brings bad fortune with him.

Cook.
Come, let's be gone! (To Serv.)
If any harm has happen'd,
'Tis not my fault. (To Lys.


Lys.
You massacre me, villain.

Cook.
I know your mind; you'd have me gone.

Lys.
I would.

Cook.
Give me a Drachma, and I'll go.

Lys.
I will.

Cook.
Order it then: it may be paid, while They
Set the provisions down.

Lys.
Will you be gone?
Will you ne'er cease tormenting me?

Cook.
Come then! (To the Servants.

Lay the provisions down before the feet
Of that old gentleman.—The pots and pans
I'll send for presently, or else to-morrow.
(To Lysimachus.
Follow me.

(To the Servants, who lay down the provisions, and go out after him.

SCENE V.

LYSIMACHUS, DORIPPA, SYRA.
Lys.
You're surpriz'd, I make no doubt,
At this Cook's bringing these provisions here.
—But I'll explain.

Dor.
I'm not surpriz'd at all
At any wrong or wickedness from You.
But be assur'd, I'll not endure this usage.
Fine treatment for a wife! to have your wenches
Brought home to my own house!—Intolerable!
—Go, Syra, to my father, and intreat him
To let me see him here immediately.

Syr.
I go.

[Exit.
Lys.
You quite mistake the matter, wife:
I'll take whatever oath you please to frame,
That I've no business with the wench.—What now?
Is Syra gone?

[Exit Dorippa.

SCENE VI.

LYSIMACHUS
alone.
See there! my wife gone too!
Death and destruction!—Gods consound you, neighbour,
You, and your mistress, and intrigues together!
What foul suspicions has he thrown upon me!
Rais'd me a croud of enemies abroad,
And made a tygress of my wife at home!
I'll to the Forum, and tell Demipho,
By her own hair I'll drag his doxy forth,
Unless he takes her hence without delay.
Wife! wife, ho! (calling to her within)
Tho' you are enrag'd with me,
Be wise, and order these provisions in,
To make our supper better by and by.

SCENE VII.

Enter severally SYRA and EUTYCHUS.
Syr.
Her father, whom my mistress sent me to,
Is not at home; nay, not in town, they say:
And I'm returning to her with this answer.

Eut.
(at a distance)
I'm tir'd of hunting the whole city through
In chace of this same girl, and all in vain.
—But sure my mother must be come to town;
For I see Syra standing at our door.
Syra!

Syr.
Who's there? who calls?

Eut.
Your master, nurse.

Syr.
(turning)
What, my young master? Heav'n bless my child!

Eut.
Inform me, is my mother come to town?

Syr.
Ay, marry, is she; and by great good luck,
Both for herself, and all the family.

Eut.
Why, what's the matter then?

Syr.
Your sweet papa
Has brought a wench into the house.

Eut.
A wench?

Syr.
Ay: madam came to town, and found her there.

Eut.
Aha, old gentleman! I ne'er suspected,
You were addicted to such pranks as these.
Is the wench still within?

Syr.
Ay.

Eut.
Follow me.

[Exit.

SCENE VIII.

SYRA
alone.
Now, by my troth, the poor unhappy women
Are much more hardly dealt with than the men.
For if a husband brings a mistress home,
Tho' the wife finds her under her own roof,
There is no law that punishes the man:
But catch her rambling with gallants abroad,
The husband truly sues for a divorce.
Would the same law held good for man and wife!
For since a wife, if she's an honest woman,
Will be contented with her husband; why,
Should not the husband also with his wife?
I would fain have fair play between them both;
And then, I warrant you, if ev'ry husband,
Prov'd a sly wencher, could but be divorc'd
As well as wanton wives, we soon should see
More widowers, than there are widows now.

[Exit.