The Treasure :: :: University of Virginia Library

Here I am, from Seleucia just arriv'd,
Arabia, Asia, Macedon,—which I never
Saw with my eyes, nor ever once set foot on.—
Behold, what troubles will not poverty
Bring on a needy wretch!—For those three pieces
Am I compell'd to say, that I receiv'd
These letters from a man, of whom I'm ignorant,
Who he may be; nor do I know indeed,
If such an one was ever born.

Charm.
In troth
This fellow's like a mushroom: he's all head.—
His countenance bespeaks him an Illyrian,
His garb too of that country.

Count.
He, who hired me,
Brought me home with him, told me what he wanted,
Gave me instructions how and what to do:
If of my own head I should throw in more,
Our plot will thrive the better.—I'm apparel'd,
As he would have me:—Money 'tis, that does it:—
My garb he hired from the Play-house.—Now
If my disguise succeed, I'll prove myself
No common cheat.

Charm.
The more I see his looks,
The less I like them.—He's some night-adventurer,

Or cut-purse surely.—How he looks about him,
How he surveys the place, and of my house
Takes special note!—Why sure he marks the place,
To come and rob it by and bye.—'Twere best
To watch him close what he's about:—I'll do so.

Count.
This is the spot my hirer pointed out,
And this the house, where I'm to play my part.
I'll knock then at the door.

Charm.
The fellow makes
Directly to my house.—Egad, I fancy
I must keep watch to-night, though just arriv'd.

Count.
Open the door there—Open—Where's the porter?

Charm.
What do you want, young man?—Why knock you here?

Count.
Prithee, old grey-beard, I have giv'n account
Already, when examin'd at the Customs.—
I want a young man,—somewhere hereabout
He dwells,—one Lesbonicus,—and another
With a white pate as yours is;—he, from whom
I had these letters, said his name was Callicles.

Charm.
(Aside)
'Tis Lesbonicus my own son he seeks,

And Callicles my friend too, in whose charge
I left my means and children.—

Count.
If you know,
Most rev'rend Sire, inform me where they dwell.

Charm.
Why do you want to find them out?—Who are you?
Whence are you? where d'you come from?

Count.
Hey!—You ask
So many questions in a breath, I know not
Which to resolve you first: but if you'll put them
Gently and singly, one by one, my name
I'll tell, and wherefore I have journey'd hither.

Charm.
Well,—as you please. Come,—tell me first your name.

Count.
You ask an arduous task.

Charm.
Why so?

Count.
Because,
Should you set out, before the day began,
With the first part and foremost of my name,
The night would go to bed ere you had reach'd
The hindmost of it.

Charm.
He had need of torches
And of provisions, whoso undertakes
To journey through it.

Count.
I've another name though;
A tiny one,—no bigger than an hogshead.

Charm.
This is a rogue in grain!—But hearkye—

Count.
What?

Charm.
What want you with those persons you enquire for?

Count.
The father of the young man Lesbonicus
Gave me these letters.—He's my friend.

Charm.
(Aside)
I have him,—
He's taken in the manner.—He pretends,
Myself did give him letters.—I will have
Rare fun with him.

Count.
Attend, and I'll proceed.

Charm.
I am attentive.

Count.
He commission'd me
To give one letter to young Lesbonicus,
His son, the other to his friend, to Callicles.

Charm.
A pretty joke, i'faith!—I'll keep it up.—
Where was he?

Count.
He has manag'd matters well.

Charm.
Where?

Count.
In Seleucia.

Charm.
You had letters of him?

Count.
With his own hands he gave them into mine.

Charm.
What sort of man?

Count.
He's taller than yourself
By half a foot.

Charm.
(Aside)
Faith, he has gravel'd me,
To find that I was taller when away,
Than now I'm here.—You knew him, did you not?

Count.
Knew him? A foolish question!—We were us'd

To mess together.

Charm.
Say then, what name bore he?

Count.
A fair one verily.

Charm.
I'd hear his name.

Count.
(Hesitating)
It's—it's—ah me!—his name is.

Charm.
What's the matter?

Count.
I've swallow'd it this instant unawares.

Charm.
How? swallow'd, say you? troth, I like him not,
Who holds his friends inclos'd within his teeth.

Count.
I had it at my tongue's end but just now.

Charm.
(Aside)
'Twas opportune my coming here to day
Before this rascal.

Count.
(Aside)
I am caught most plainly.

Charm.
Have you yet found the name?

Count.
'Fore Gods and men
I own myself abash'd.

Charm.
Behold, how much
You knew him!

Count.
As myself.—It happens oft,
That what we hold in hand, and have in sight,
We look for as if lost.—I'll recollect it
Letter by letter.—It begins with C.

Charm.
Is it Callicias?

Count.
No.

Charm.
Callippus?

Count.
No.

Charm.
Is't Callidemides?

Count.
No.

Charm.
Callinicus?

Count.
No.

Charm.
Is't Callimarchus?

Count.
'Tis in vain to seek it,
Nor do I heed it much, so my own name
I don't forget.

Charm.
But there are many here
Call'd Lesbonicus; and, unless you tell
The father's name, I cannot shew them to you,
Whom you enquire for,—What is't like?—We'll try,
If we can hit upon it by conjecture.

Count.
'Tis like Char.

Charm.
Is it Chares? Charidemus?
Or Charmides?

Count.
Oh, that.—The Gods confound him!

Charm.
'Tis fitter you should bless a friend than curse him.

Count.
A worthless fellow, to have lain perdue thus
Within my lips and teeth.

Charm.
You should not speak
Ill of an absent friend.

Count.
Why did the knave
Then hide him from me?

Charm.
He had answer'd, had you
But call'd him by his name.—Where is he now?

Count.
Truly I left him last at Rhadamanth
In the Cecropian Island.

Charm.
(Aside)
Can there be
A greater simpleton than I, to ask

Where I myself am? But no matter.—Tell me,—

Count.
What?

Charm.
Let me ask, what places have you been at?

Count.
Most wondrous ones.

Charm.
I should be glad to hear,
If 'tis not too much trouble.

Count.
I'm impatient
To give you an account.—Then first of all,
We came to Araby in Pontus.

Charm.
How?
Is Araby in Pontus?

Count.
Yes, it is;
But not that Araby, where frankincense
Is grown, but where sweet-marjoram, and wormwood.

Charm.
(Aside)
'Tis the completest knave!—More fool am I though,
To ask him whence I came, (which I must know,
He cannot,) but that I've a mind to try,
How he'll get off at last.—What is your name,
Young man?

Count.
'Tis Touchit;—that, Sir, is my name,
A common one.

Charm.
A very knavish name;
As though you meant to say, if any thing
Was trusted to you, touch it, and 'tis gone.—
But hearkye,—whither did you further travel?

Count.
Attend, and I'll relate. We journey'd on

To the river's head that rises out of heaven
Beneath the throne of Jove.

Charm.
The throne of Jove?

Count.
I say it.

Charm.
Out of heav'n?

Count.
Aye, from the midst on't.

Charm.
How! you ascended up to heav'n?

Count.
We did;
In a small cock-boat were we carried thither
Against the stream.

Charm.
Oh ho!—And saw you Jove?

Count.
The other Gods inform'd us he was gone
Unto his villa to dispense provisions
Among his slaves.—Moreover—

Charm.
Pshaw! moreover
I want to hear no more.

Count.
Nay, I have done,
If you are tired.

Charm.
How shameless! who pretends,
That he has mounted up from earth to heaven.

Count.
I'll let you go then, since I see you chuse it:—
But shew me where they live whom I enquire for,
Where I may bear these letters.

Charm.
Hearkye now,
If haply you should see this Charmides,
The same that you pretend gave you those letters,
Say, should you know him?

Count.
Think you I'm a beast,
As not to know a man I've past my life with?
Or, can you think, would he be such an oaf,
To trust me with a thousand Philippeans,

Enjoining me to bear them to his son
And Callicles his friend, to whom, he told me,
He had consign'd the charge of his affairs?
Would he, I say, have trusted me, except
We had been well acquainted with each other?

Charm.
(Aside)
Now would I trick this trickster,—if I could
But cozen him of those thousand Philippeans,
He said I gave him! though I know him not,
Nor ever saw him till this day.—What, I
Trust him with gold? who would not even give
A dump of lead to save him from an hanging.—
I must go cunningly to work.—Hoa, Touchit,
Three words with you.

Count.
Three hundred, if you please.

Charm.
Have you the money you receiv'd of Charmides?

Count.
In Philippeans, told upon the nail,
A thousand pieces.

Charm.
You receiv'd them, did you,
Of Charmides himself?

Count.
It had been wondrous,
Had I receiv'd them of his grandsire truly,
Or his great-grandsire,—who are dead.

Charm.
Young man,
Prithee give me the gold.

Count.
Give you what gold?

Charm.
That which you own'd you did receive of me.

Count.
Receiv'd of you?

Charm.
I say it.

Count.
Who are you?

Charm.
Who gave to you the thousand pieces:-I
Am Charmides.

Count.
You're not, nor ever shall be,
I mean, the master of this gold.—Away,—
You are a knowing one!—you'd take me in!—
But I too am a knowing one.

Charm.
I'm Charmides.

Count.
You may be, but in vain.—I bring no money.
You've crept upon me in the very nick
Most slily. When I said I had brought gold,
You then was Charmides; before you was not,
Till I made mention of the gold.—'Twon't do.—
So prithee, as you've taken up the name
Of Charmides, e'en lay it down again.

Charm.
Who am I, if I am not that I am?

Count.
What's that to me? Be whom you please, you're welcome,

So you are not the person I'd not have you.
Before, you was not who you was; and now,
You are who then you was not.

Charm.
Come, dispatch.

Count.
How? what dispatch?

Charm.
Give me the money.

Count.
Sure
You dream, old gentleman.

Charm.
Did you not own,
That Charmides had giv'n it you?

Count.
I did,—
In writing,—not in specie.

Charm.
Prithee hence,
And leave the place this instant, ere I order you
An hearty drubbing.

Count.
Why?

Charm.
Because myself
Am that same Charmides that you've invented;—
Who you pretend has giv'n you letters.

Count.
How!
I pray you, are you he?

Charm.
Yes, I am he.

Count.
What say you? are you he?

Charm.
I am, I say.

Count.
Himself?

Charm.
I say, I'm Charmides,—himself.

Count.
And are you he himself?

Charm.
His very self.—
Out of my sight;—Be gone then.

Count.
Now, because
Your coming was so late, I'll have you beaten
At the new Ædiles' and my own award.

Charm.
What! you abuse me?

Count.
All the gods confound you
For your arrival! I had little car'd,
If you had perish'd first.—I've got at least
The money for my trouble.—Ill betide you!
And now, or who you are, or who you are not,
I value not a straw.—To him I'll go,
Who hir'd me for three pieces, and acquaint him,
How that his money's thrown away.—I'm gone.—
Farewell?—Fare ill!—May all the gods confound you,
For coming from abroad,—you, master Charmides!

[Exit.