 | The Brothers |  |
SCENE II.
Enter DEMEA at another part of the Stage.Dem.
Verily, I am
A most unhappy man! for first of all,
I cannot find my brother any where:
And then besides, in looking after him,
I chanc'd on one of my day-labourers,
Who had but newly left my farm, and told me
Ctesipho was not there. What shall I do?
376
(apart.) peeping out.]
Syrus?
Syrus.
(apart.)
What?
Ctes.
(apart.)
Does he seek me?
Syrus.
(apart.)
Yes.
Ctes.
(apart.)
Undone!
Syrus.
(apart.)
Courage!
Demea,
to himself.]
Plague on it, what ill luck is this!
I can't account for it: but I believe
That I was born for nothing but misfortunes.
I am the first who feels our woes; the first
Who knows of them; the first who tells the news;
And come what may, I bear the weight alone.
Syrus,
behind.]
Ridiculous! he says he knows all first;
And he alone is ignorant of all.
Dem.
I'm now return'd to see if Micio
Be yet come home again.
Ctes.
(apart.) peeping out.]
Take care, good Syrus,
He don't rush in upon us unawares!
Syrus.
(apart.)
Peace! I'll take care.
Ctes.
(apart.)
'Faith, I'll not trust to you,
But shut myself and her in some bye place
Together: that's the safest.
Syrus.
(apart.)
Well, away!
[Ctesipho disappears.
I'll drive the old man hence, I warrant you.
377
seeing Syrus.]
But see that rascal Syrus coming hither!
Syrus,
advancing hastily, and pretending not to see Demea.]
By Hercules, there is no living here,
For any one, at this rate.—I'd fain know
How many masters I'm to have.—Oh monstrous!
Dem.
What does he howl for? what's the meaning on't?
Hark ye, my good Sir! prithee tell me, if
My brother is at home.
Syrus.
My good Sir! Plague!
Why do you come with your Good Sirs to me?
I'm half kill'd.
Dem.
What's the matter?
Syrus.
What's the matter!
Ctesipho, vengeance on him, fell upon me,
And cudgel'd me and the poor Musick-Girl
Almost to death.
Dem.
Indeed?
Syrus.
Indeed. Nay see
How he has cut my lip!
[pretending to shew it.
Dem.
On what account?
Syrus.
The girl, he says, was bought by my advice.
Dem.
Did not you say you saw him out of town
A little while ago?
Syrus.
And so I did.
378
He had no mercy.—Was not he asham'd
To beat a poor old fellow? to beat Me;
Who bore him in my arms but t'other day,
An urchin thus high?
[shewing.
Dem.
Oh rare, Ctesipho!
Father's own son! A man, I warrant him.
Syrus.
Oh rare, d'ye cry? I'faith if he is wise,
He'll hold his hands another time.
Dem.
Oh brave!
Syrus.
Oh mighty brave, indeed!—Because he beat
A helpless girl, and me a wretched slave,
Who durst not strike again;—oh, to be sure,
Mighty brave truly!
Dem.
Oh, most exquisite!
My Ctesipho perceiv'd, as well as I,
That you was the contriver of this business.
—But is my brother here?
Syrus.
Not he.
[sulkily.
Dem.
I'm thinking
Where I shall seek him.
Syrus.
I know where he is:
But I'll not tell.
Dem.
How, sirrah?
379
Even so.
Dem.
I'll break your head.
Syrus.
I cannot tell the name
Of him he's gone to, but I know the place.
Dem.
Well, where's the place?
Syrus.
D'ye know the Portico
Just by the market, down this way?
[pointing.
Dem.
I do.
Syrus.
Go up that street; keep strait along: and then
You'll see a hill; go strait down that: and then
On this hand, there's a chapel; and just by
A narrow lane.
[pointing.
Dem.
Where?
[looking.
Syrus.
There; by the great wild fig-tree.
D'ye know it, Sir?
Dem.
I do.
Syrus.
Go through that lane.
Dem.
That lane's no thoroughfare.
Syrus.
Ay, very true:
No more it is, Sir.—What a fool I am!
I was mistaken.—You must go quite back
Into the Portico; and after all,
This is the nearest and the safest way.
—D'ye know Cratinus' house? the rich man?
380
Ay.
Syrus.
When you've pass'd that, turn short upon the left.
Keep strait along that street, and when you reach
Diana's Temple, turn upon the right.
And then, on this side of the city-gate,
Just by the pond, there is a baker's shop,
And opposite a joiner's.—There he is.
Dem.
What business has he there?
Syrus.
He has bespoke
Some tables to be made with oaken legs
To stand the sun.
Dem.
For you to drink upon.
Oh brave!—But I lose time. I'll after him.
[Exit hastily.
The poet artfully contrives to detain Demea in town, his presence being necessary in the subsequent part of the fable. Donatus.
It is observed by Theobald in his edition of Shakespeare, that the perplext direction given by Lancelot seems to be copied from this of Syrus.
“Turn up, on your right hand at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.”
Merchant of Venice. | The Brothers | |