 | The Carthaginian |  |
387
SCENE V.
Enter ANTHEMONIDES.Anthe.
If I am not reveng'd, and smartly too,
For that same mina, which I gave the rascal,
May I a common may-game be; the scoff
Of fools—The beast has brought me here to dine;
And he is gone abroad himself; while I
Am left, forsooth, his knaveship's hall-keeper—
Neither the Pandar, nor the girls return'd;
And not a scrap to eat—'Stead of my dinner,
I laid my hands on this, and so march'd out.
388
[drawing his sword.]
He thinks he has found his man, whom he may cheat.
Would I could meet now, while my choler's up,
This mistress, I'd so baste her with my fists,
I'd make a mulberry of her; she should look
Blacker than any Ethiop, or the knaves
Who carry buckets at the publick games.
[Here both the daughters run to their father.]
Adel.
O hold me fast, dear Sir, I dread that kite—
[seeing Anthemonides.]
It is a ravenous bird—lest he should seize
Your chick.
Ant.
I cannot hold you fast enough,
My father—
Anthe.
But I loiter here: with this
I might have bought a dinner—Hey! what's this!
What's this I see? How! What!—a duplicate!
A strange conjunction—Who's this fellow here,
With his long skirts so like a tavern boy?
Do I see clear? Can that be Anterastilis,
My flame?—'Tis she, as sure as I'm alive.
I've for some time perceiv'd she slighted me.
But is she not asham'd, i'th'publick street
389
Strait to the gallows—These long skirted fellows
Are mighty women's-men. But I'll accost her,
This negro-loving hussey!—Holla! You—
Woman, to you I speak—Ar't not asham'd?
What business, fellow, hast thou with that woman?
Han.
Youth, save you—
Anth.
I will not be sav'd—What is't
To you? How dare you touch this girl?
Han.
It lik'd me.
Anthe.
It lik'd you?—
Han.
Yes, it lik'd me.
Anthe.
Strap, go hang thee.
Dar'st thou turn lover, thou! thou hop o'my thumb!
390
Thou leathern bucket, frowzy vest; thou stinkest
Of leeks and garlick, worse than Roman rowers.
Ago.
Ho! younker!—Do your cheeks or shoulders itch,
That you affront this man: and do you want
A drubbing?
Anthe.
Why dost not accompany
Thy railing with a drum? for thou'rt a priest
Of Cybele, I think; and not a man.
Ago.
I'll make you know how I'm a priest—Come out,
My slaves, and bring the cudgels—
Anthe.
Do not take
In earnest, what I only said in jest.
391
How can you, Anthemonides, delight
To abuse my father and my cousin thus?
This is our father—But this very now
He found us out; and this, his brother's son.
[meaning Agorastocles.]
Anthe.
May Jupiter so love me, as I'm glad.
It is a lucky chance; it chears my heart.
I'm glad of any ruin to this pandar;
And that your fortune's equal to your virtues.
Ant.
Troth, what he says is probable, my father—
Believe him—
Han.
Well, I do—
Ago.
And so do I.—
Look, see the pandar Lycus! the good man!
Look, look! I see him—He is coming home.
Han.
Who is this man?
Ago.
Or Lycus, or the pandar:
Which e'er you please—Your daughters were his slaves;
And he's the rascal that has stolen my gold.
Han.
A precious fellow you're acquainted with!
Ago.
Drag him before the Prætor.
Han.
By no means.
Ago.
Why so?
Han.
Because I'd better bring my action.
| The Carthaginian | |