University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

VERRES, APRONIUS, RUBRIUS, SESTIUS.
Verres.
Well, my good friends, how like you Lampsacus?
'Tis a brave city.—Art thou here, Apronius?
What my purveyor, the sutler to my pleasures?

Apronius,
bowing.
And sometimes to your profit.

Verres.
Name not profit
As yet. We only spread our sails tow'rds pleasure;

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Thou look'st as if the wind blew prosp'rous thither.
Read me the bill of fare of beauty's feast,
That I may know where to direct my appetite,
Nor throw't away on ordinary diet.

Apronius.
For the first dish, I place upon your board
“Euridice, the wife of Aristippus,
[Reads.
“Barely eighteen; her husband some three-score:”
The fool dotes on her, and sticks closely to her;
A filthy slug on a delicious peach.
The crispness of her youth is green upon her,
Yet not to sourness, tho' improveable,
Like fruit another morning's sun had mellow'd.

Sestius.
[aside]
He should have kept his fruit for the dessert.

Rubrius.
[aside]
The rogue's description is so savoury,
That my mouth waters at it. Let's hear on.

Apronius.
But all this beauty fades its less'ning merit
In Erato's superior lustre dimm'd.

Verres.
Who is this Erato? when comes her turn?
I want to hear of her.

Apronius.
She is the daughter
Of the first man in Lampsacus, Philodamus.
She has a fair companion, call'd Euphemia,
Whose beauty borders upon competition.—

Rubrius.
D'ye hear, Apronius! I bespeak Euphemia.

Apronius.
Go hang, or learn to cater for yourself.
“The next is Psyche, wedded to Eubulus,
[Reads.
“Near upon thirty, tall, and rather plumpish.”
If she be past the gush and swell of beauty,
Is hard to say, so imperceptibly
Hath time blown o'er it, that 'twould make one think
He strove to mend it; as the rose smells sweeter
For being breath'd on, than before it opens.

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Yet Erato, who blooms in balmy fragrance,
Subdues, like incense, all these weak perfumes.

Verres.
Why, tell me of them then? Proceed to Erato.

Apronius.
[Reads.
“Rhodè, the fair and witty wife of Lyco.”
Another may possess more regular features,
Or glow with richer tints from nature's pallette;
Yet where she comes, array'd in all her gaiety,
Her bursts of fancy, and her pleasing petulance,
Variety unweary'd plays about her,
And quite monopolizes all attention;
Till in the pow'rful witchcraft soon absorpt,
Superior beauties wane into neglect.
Except—

Verres.
Always excepting Erato,
For that I find's the burthen to thy song.
I'm all on fire! tell me of Erato.

Apronius.
I have a score behind—

Verres.
I'll hear no more.
Tell me of Erato! she must be mine.
My faithful pimp, hast thou devis'd the means
For me to meet this paragon of beauty?
Where? when? how soon? to-day? presently? now?

Apronius.
There lies the rub. That heav'nly form of hers
Does not start higher from the common level,
Than does her perfect purity of manners
Above the doubtful virtues of this age.

Rubrius.
Apronius! what hast thou to do with purity?
Thou seem'st to name it in a kind of rapture!

Apronius.
I am a rascal, else I should not be
Link'd to thy company. I practise villany,
But must esteem the virtues I don't imitate.


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Sestius.
What! art thou subject to these moral fits?
How long do th'hold thee? dost thou mischief in them?

Verres.
Ye trifle, while my soul is on the rack
How to possess her, for I will possess her.
Can money purchase, or must flatt'ry win,
Or force convey her to my raptur'd arms?
Who has invention? let him merit of me
All he can ask, or wish, or I can give.
There's glory in the conquest, if we carry
This barricado'd virtue.

Apronius.
To my thoughts
All methods seem alike impracticable.
Better take up with one of those I've mention'd.
Had you not heard of her, you had embrac'd
One, tho' a meaner beauty, in your arms,
And thought her Ilia and Egeria,

Verres.
Villain! upon thy life, dare not suggest
The transfer of my passion from that object,
Where thou hast rivetted m' imagination.

Rubrius.
I have a lucky thought that comes across me.
Tho' I am quarter'd on a stately house,
Where pride and riches make a vain attempt
To pass upon the world for liberality,
That only virtue man can't counterfeit;
Yet my host views me with a niggard eye,
That means, Are you come here to eat me up?
Portending penury of hospitality.
Let this be your pretence for my removal
To the more ample station of Philodamus.
You, and your train, dine with me there to-day.
Who knows what opportunities may offer?
If none, why then the brave make opportunities.
Wine, and the gen'ral hurry of the feast,
Shall one inspire, t'other facilitate,
Some fortunate attempt to crown your wishes.


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Verres.
Let me embrace thee, my best Rubrius.
Order a guard directly to the house.

Rubrius.
But, why a guard?

Verres.
Because, by the pretence
To do thee honour, we secure ourselves.
Tread you upon its heels, and I on yours.
Why, now success stretches his hand towards mine,
And gives me more than promises. Come on.

[Exeunt Verres and Rubrius.