 | The Eunuch |  |
SCENE VI.
Enter CHÆREA, in the Eunuch's habit.Chær.
[looking about]
Is any body here?—No, nobody.
Does any follow me?—No, nobody.
May I then let my extacy break forth?
O Jupiter! 'tis now the very time,
When I could suffer to be put to death,
Lest not another transport like to this,
Remain in life to come.—But is there not
Some curious impertinent to come
Across me now, and murder me with questions?
—To ask, why I'm so flutter'd? why so joyful?
Whither I'm going? whence I came? and where
I got this habit? what I'm looking after?
Whether I'm in my senses? or stark mad?
Anti.
I'll go myself, and do that kindness to him.
what's all this flutter? what's this dress?
What is't transports you? what d'ye want? art mad?
Why do you stare at me? and why not speak?
Chær.
O happy, happy day!—Save you, dear friend!
There's not a man on earth I'd rather see
This moment than yourself.
Anti.
Come, tell me all!
Chær.
Tell you! I will beseech you give me hearing.
D'ye know my brother's mistress here?
Anti.
Yes: Thais,
Or I'm deceiv'd.
Chær.
The same.
Anti.
I do remember.
Chær.
To-day a girl was sent a present to her.
Why need I speak or praise her beauty now
To you, that know me, and my taste so well?
She set me all on fire.
Anti.
Is she so handsome?
Chær.
Most exquisite: Oh, had you but once seen her,
You would pronounce her, I am confident,
The first of woman-kind.—But to be brief,
I fell in love with her.—By great good luck
There was at home an Eunuch, which my brother
Had bought for Thais, but not yet sent thither.
Which I seiz'd greedily.
Anti.
And what was that?
Chær.
Peace, and I'll tell you.—To change dresses with him,
And order Parmeno to carry me
Instead of him.
Anti.
How? for an Eunuch, You?
Chær.
E'en so.
Anti.
What good could you derive from that?
Chær.
What good!—why, see, and hear, and be with her
I languish'd for, my Antipho!—was that
An idle reason, or a trivial good?
—To Thais I'm deliver'd; she receives me,
And carries me with joy into her house;
Commits the charming girl—
Anti.
To whom?—to You?
Chær.
To Me.
Anti.
In special hands, I must confess.
Chær.
—Injoins me, to permit no man come near her;
Nor to depart, myself, one instant from her;
But in an inner chamber to remain
Bashfully on the ground.
Anti.
Poor simple soul!
Chær.
I am bid forth, says she; and carries off
All her maid-servants with her, save some few
Raw novices, who strait prepar'd the bath.
I bad them haste; and while it was preparing,
In a retiring-room the Virgin sat;
Viewing a picture, where the tale was drawn
Of Jove's descending in a golden show'r
To Danae's bosom.—I beheld it too,
And because He of old the like game play'd,
I felt my mind exult the more within me,
That Jove should change himself into a man,
And steal in secret thro' a stranger-roof,
With a mere woman to intrigue.—Great Jove,
Who shakes the highest heav'ns with his thunder!
And I, poor mortal man, not do the same!—
—While thoughts, like these, possest my soul, they call'd
The girl to bathe. She goes, bathes, then returns:
Which done, the servants put her into bed.
I stand to wait their orders. Up comes one,
Here, harkye, Dorus! take this fan, and mark
You cool her gently thus, while we go bathe.
When we have bath'd, You, if you please, bathe too.
I, with a sober air, receive the fan.
Anti.
Then would I fain have seen your simple face!
I should have been delighted to behold
How like an ass you look'd, and held the fan.
Chær.
Scarce had she spoke, when all rush'd out o'doors;
Away they go to bathe; grow full of noise,
As servants use, when masters are abroad.
Meanwhile sleep seiz'd the virgin: I, by stealth,
Peep'd thro' the fansticks thus; then looking round,
And seeing all was safe, made fast the door.
Anti.
What then?
Chær.
What then, fool!
Anti.
I confess.
Chær.
D'ye think,
Blest with an opportunity like this,
I'd let it slip? No. Then I'd been, indeed,
The thing I counterfeited.
Anti.
Very true.
But what's become of our club-supper?
Chær.
Ready.
Anti.
An honest fellow! where? at your own house?
Chær.
At Freeman Discus's.
Anti.
A great way off.
Chær.
Then we must make more haste.
Anti.
But change your dress.
Chær.
Where can I change it? I'm distrest. From home
I must play truant, lest I meet my brother.
My father too, perhaps, is come to town.
Anti.
Come then to my house! that's the nearest place
Where you may shift.
Chær.
With all my heart: let's go!
And at the same time, I'll consult with you
Anti.
Be it so.
Proh Jupiter! Nunc est prosecto, cum interfici perpeti me possum, Ne hoc gaudium contaminet vita agritudine aliquâ. The passage from Othello, cited in a note on the last act of the Andrian, contains exactly the same sentiment, and almost in the same words with this of Terence.
In Greece the women always occupied the interior apartments, where nobody was permitted to come to them, but relations, and the slaves that waited upon them. Dacier.
A very proper piece of furniture for the house of a courtezan, giving an example of loose and mercenary love; calculated to excite wanton thoughts, and at the same time hinting to the young lover that he must make his way to the bosom of his mistress, like Jupiter to Danae, in a shower of gold. Oh the avarice of harlots! Donatus.
Short indeed, considering the number of incidents, which, according to Chærea's relation, are crowded into it. All the time, allowed for this adventure, is the short space between the departure of Thais with Thraso and the entrance of Chærea; so that all this variety of business of sleeping, bathing, ravishing, &c. is dispatched during the two soliloquies of Antipho and Chremes, and the short scene between Chremes and Pythias. The truth is, that a very strict and religious adherence to the Unities often drives the Poet into as great absurdities as the profest violation of them.
Instead of this scene, Fontaine in his Eunuch, has substituted one between Chærea and Pamphila, whom he brings on the stage, as Baron does Glycerium in the Andrian. Chærea professes honourable love, leaves her in the house of Thais, and applies to his father, by whose consent he at last obtains her in marriage. Fontaine was most probably right in his conjecture, that the Plot of the Eunuch, exactly as it lies in Terence, was not conformable to the severity of the French, or, perhaps the English stage. It would certainly therefore have been advisable, in order to adapt it for representation before a modern audience, to change some circumstances, and the introduction of Pamphila might perhaps have been hazarded not without success: But by departing so essentially, as Fontaine has done from Menander and Terence, the very foundations of the fable are undermined, and it loses most part of that vivacity and interest so remarkable in the Play before us.
| The Eunuch | |