 | The Andrian Woman |  |
Scen. 1.
Enter Simo and Sosia with two or three seruants more bearing prouision from the Market.Simo.
You sirs haue those things in: away I say.
Exeunt the seruants.
Sosia draw neere; I am to speak with you.
Sos.
Sir thinke th'errand giu'n; your meaning is
I looke to those things carefull cookery.
Sim.
No: tis another matter.
Sos.
Pray say on
What tis, my art may further doe for you.
Sim.
Here's neede of no such art, in what I purpose;
But of those parts which I haue euer noted
To dwell in thee; trust, and true secrecie.
Sos.
I waite your pleasure.
Sim.
Since I bought thee first
Being then a yongling, in what gentle sort,
In what due course, thou ledst thy seruice with me,
Thy selfe well know'st: and for I found thee carefull
In thy imployments, the best good I had
To answer it, I gaue thee; libertie.
2
I spare it sir in minde.
Sim.
And I repent not.
Sos.
It is my harts ioy Master, if I did
Or, it can doe, ought to your satisfaction;
And further owe you thankes that you acknowledge
I well accepted: yet it troubles me,
For this remembrancing your benefit,
Seemes to vpbraid me, as forgetting it.
Pray in one word acquaint me with your pleasure.
Sim.
I will; but first I tell thee of this thing,
This which thou thinkst is no meant marriage.
Sos.
Why make you as it were then?
Sim.
Thou shalt heare
From the beginning all: and by that meanes
Shalt better know my Sonnes forepassed life,
My present purpose, and thy future charge.
My Sonne hauing past his childhood Sosia
Hath now more scope allowed him; before
How could one know or sift his disposition,
While tender age, feare, tutors awed him?
Sos.
Sir, you say right.
Sim.
What almost all youth doe,
To set their minde on one some chosen course;
That to breede Horse, this Hounds, and both to hunt,
A third to study of Phylosophie:
He none of these followed professedly,
Aboue the rest: but yet all moderately.
I ioyd at it.
Sos.
Sir, not without good cause:
“For to oredoe no one thing, in my sence
“To mans life is of chiefest consequence.
Sim.
Such his behauiour; all those gently
To beare and forbeare, that he kept withall;
Apply himselfe to please and humor all;
Crosse none, nor proudly seeke to ouertop
His young companions: so that easily
He got him friends and praise; yet without enuie.
Sos.
He bare him wisely: for in this times state
Sweet yeelding procures friends, blunt truth gets hate.
3
Meane while a certaine woman three yeeres since
Drawne by her wants and kindreds negligence,
From Andros Isle came to our neighborhood;
Of passing beautie, flouring womanhood.
Sos.
I feare this Andrian woman bodes no good.
Sim.
She at the first a sparing chaste life led;
At Rocke and Loome, hard labord to get bread:
But when a first, a second, a third came;
Tendring their loues, gifts promis'd with the same,
(As all our natures are prone commonly
From labour vnto wanton libertie)
She stoop'd to lure, began the gainfull trade.
By those that then chiefe loue vnto her made,
My Sonne was drawne along occasionally
To banquet with 'hem; keepe 'hem company.
I to my selfe—Sure the young frie is tane:
H'as catcht the poisoned bait; with it, his bane.
These louers seruants passing to and fro
I eu'rie morning watch; and calling to
One that I spied, thus question; Prethee lad,
Who yesterday yond Chrysis company had?
So was the Andrian call'd.
Sos.
Sir. I conceaue you.
Sim.
The answer was, Phœdrus, or Nicerate,
Or Clinias (for at that time those three
Her ioyntly lou'd.) I reply presently,
And what did Pamphilus? what? (answers he.)
He stak'd his share, and supp'd: this gladded me.
At other times I cast more newes to learne;
Still nothing found that did my Sonne concerne.
I thought him now proofe-temper'd gainst excesse,
Great patterne of a setled staiednesse.
For he that deales with natures of this kinde,
Yet thereby growes not stagg'ring in his minde;
To such a mans owne hands thou maist be bold
To leaue the free reignes of his life in hold.
4
So all tongues talk'd my good, proclaim'd my treasure,
In hauing such a qualified Sonne.
What should I make further relation?
Chremes our neighbour drawne by this same bruit,
Freely comes to me; and makes earnest suit
To place his daughter, yea his onely one
With a large dowre as wife vnto my Sonne:
I agreed the marriage, on his motion;
And this the day, it is appointed on.
Sos.
What barre now stoppeth? why in very deede
According to the shew, it not proceede?
Sim.
Ile tell thee: few dayes after this befell,
Our neighbour Chrysis died.
Sos.
That's chanced well.
You haue reuiu'd me; I much doubted her.
Sim.
With Chrysis louers still my Sonne comes there
Alike her funerall lookes to; alike cheere
Sometimes of sadnesse shewes, sometimes alike
Weepes with 'hem: I his carriage well did like.
Thus argued I; Her death how tenderly
For very small acquaintance doth he take?
What, if himselfe had lou'd her? what for me,
What will he doe for me, his Fathers sake?
All this I thought in my simplicitie,
Meerely the functions of humilitie,
And of kinde heart. Why lengthen I my tale?
My selfe for his sake tend the funerall,
Dreaming as yet no euill.
Sos.
Ha! what meanes this?
Sim.
Ile cause thee know. The dead corps is brought out;
Along we goe; now there amidst the throng
Of women, I a maiden very young
Perchance espied; of person—
Sos.
Perhaps handsome.
Sim.
I, and of countenance Sosia so delightsome,
So modest, faire, that nothing might her staine:
Who for she seem'd to me, in all the traine
Most to lament; and was aboue the rest
5
I prest neere to the Maids, askt what she was:
They told me Chrysis sister. Instantly
It strooke me cold at heart. Oh God! thought I,
Hence grew his teares: his tendernesse she breeds.
Sos.
How I doe feare whither your tale proceeds.
Sim.
The Funerall goes on: we attend the same
To th'Sepulchre she's come: into the flame
She's put: all weepe. The maid I named late
Approacht the fire, as carelesse, desperate;
To her euident danger: here my frighted Sonne
Well shewed his long concealed affection
So close dissembled: to her hies he fast,
And both his armes folding about her wast,
My deere Glycerium saies he, how doost? say,
What cause hast thou to make thy selfe away?
Then she (that all their indeard loue might spie)
Cast her selfe on him, weeping tenderly.
Sos.
How? what doe you say?
Sim.
Home I get mee streight,
Inrag'd and fretting; yet no cause of weight
Appeard to me to chide him: he might plead,
What foule fact haue I done? what merited?
Or wherein faulted, Father? one that sought
To burne her selfe, I hindred (as I ought)
And sau'd her life. It were a faire reply.
Sos.
You weigh things well: for if deseruedly
He may be chidden which help'd life to saue,
Who hurts or spoiles one, what should that man haue?
Sim.
Next day comes Chremes to me, vrging thus,
Oh case to be lamented! Pamphilus
(I finde cleare) holds yond stranger harlotrie
In place of a iust wife: this earnestly
I doe denie, he stifly holds. In fine,
I so part with him, as one vtterly
6
Sos.
Chid you not Pamphilus yet?
Sim.
Nor yet I saw
A grounded cause to build a chiding on.
Sos.
Why I pray?
Sim.
Thus my Sonne might vrge his law:
Your selfe sir set a limitation
To this my course: the time is comming on,
I must my selfe to anothers will apply:
Let me ith interim mine owne satisfie.
Sos.
For what cause then of blaming will you tarrie?
Sim.
If for loose loue he shall denie to marrie:
That is the first occasion that I seeke
Against him; and the present way I make
By this false marriage, if he shew mislike
Is hereby true pretence of blame to take.
Besides, if wicked Dauus haue a foot
Any contriuement, that he now consume
His stocke of knauerie whil'st it cannot hurt
Who (I imagine) tooth and naile will practise,
And that with purpose rather to crosse me
Then please my Sonne.
Sos.
Why should you so conceaue?
Sim.
Mak'st thou a question? euill mindes, ill manners.
Whom if in any thing I shall discouer—
But what neede talke? if happily it fall
(As I doe wish) my Sonne be nothing backward,
It onely rests, that I perswade with Chremes:
Which I hope may be wrought. Now, be't your charge
Well to beare vp this seeming marriage;
Fright Dauus; obserue my Sonnes carriage;
And note their consultations.
Sos.
Tis enough, Ile see to't: shall we in.
Sim.
Goe before, I follow.
Exit Sosia.
There is no question, my Sonne would decline
This marriage; that I markt in Dauus feare,
7
But he himselfe comes forth.
| The Andrian Woman | |