University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

To him PAMPHILUS and DAVUS.
Pam.
Oh, Charinus,
By my Imprudence, unless Heav'n forefend,
I've ruin'd both myself and you.

Char.
Imprudence!
Paltry evasion! You have broke your faith.

Pam.
What now?

Char.
And do you think that words like these
Can baffle me again?

Pam.
What means all this?

Char.
Soon as I told you of my passion for her,
Then she had charms for you.—Ah, senseless fool,
To judge your disposition by my own!

Pam.
You are mistaken.

Char.
Was your joy no joy,
Without abusing a fond Lover's mind,
Fool'd on with idle hopes?—Well, take her.

Pam.
Take her?
Alas, you know not what a wretch I am:
How many cares this slave has brought upon me,
My rascal here.

Char.
No wonder, if he takes
Example from his master.

Pam.
Ah, you know not
Me, or my love, or else you would not talk thus.

Char.
Oh yes, I know it all. You had but now
A dreadful altercation with your father:
And therefore he's enrag'd, nor could prevail
On you, forsooth, to wed.

[ironically.
Pam.
To shew you then,
How little you conceive of my distress,
These nuptials were mere semblance, mock'ry all,
Nor was a wife intended me.

Char.
I know it:
You are constrained, poor man, by inclination.

Pam.
Nay, but have patience! you don't know—

Char.
I know
That you're to marry her.

Pam.
Why rack me thus?
Nay hear! He never ceas'd to importune
That I wou'd tell my father, I would wed;
So prest, and urg'd, that he at length prevail'd.

Char.
Who did this?

Pam.
Davus.

Char.
Davus!

Pam.
Davus all.

Char.
Wherefore?

Pam.
I know not: but I know the Gods
Meant in their anger I should listen to him.

Char.
Is it so, Davus?

Davus.
Even so.

Char.
How, villain?
The Gods confound you for it!—Tell me, wretch,
Had all his most inveterate foes desir'd
To throw him on this marriage, what advice
Could they have given else?

Davus.
I am deceiv'd,
But not dishearten'd.

Char.
True.

[ironically.
Davus.
This way has fail'd;
We'll try another way: unless you think
Because the business has gone ill at first,
We cannot graft advantage on misfortune.

Pam.
Oh ay, I warrant you, if you look to't,
Out of one wedding you can work me two.

Davus.
Pamphilus, 'tis my duty, as your slave,
To strive with might and main, by day and night,
With hazard of my life, to do you service:
'Tis your's, if I am crost, to pardon me.
My undertakings fail indeed, but then
I spare no pains. Do better, if you can,
And send me packing.

Pam.
Ay, with all my heart:
Place me but where you found me first.

Davus.
I will.

Pam.
But do it instantly.

Davus.
Hist! hold awhile:
I hear the creaking of Glycerium's door.

Pam.
Nothing to you.

Davus.
I'm thinking.

Pam.
What, at last?

Davus.
Your business shall be done, and presently.