 | The Self-Tormentor |  |
SCENE VII.
Enter at a distance SOSTRATA with a Ring, and the Nurse.Sostra.
Or I'm deceiv'd,
Or this is certainly the very ring;
The ring, with which my daughter was expos'd.
Chremes
to Syrus behind.]
What can those words mean, Syrus?
Tell me, Nurse!
Does it appear to you to be the same?
Nurse.
Ay, marry: and the very moment that
You shew'd it me, I said it was the same.
Sostra.
But have you thoroughly examin'd, Nurse?
Nurse.
Ay, thoroughly.
Sostra.
In then, and let me know
If she has yet done bathing; and meanwhile
I'll wait my husband here.
[Exit Nurse.
Syrus.
She wants you, Sir! enquire,
What she would have. She's grave, I know not why.
'Tis not for nothing; and I fear the cause.
Chremes.
The cause? pshaw! nothing. She'll take mighty pains
To be deliver'd of some mighty trifle.
Sostra.
seeing them.]
Oh husband!
Chremes.
Oh Wife!
Sostra.
I was looking for you.
Chremes.
Your pleasure?
Sostra.
First, I must intreat you then,
Believe, I would not dare do any thing
Against your order.
Chremes.
What! must I believe
A thing past all belief?—I do believe it.
Syrus.
This exculpation bodes some fault, I'm sure.
[aside.
Do you remember, I was pregnant once,
When you assur'd me with much earnestness,
That if I were deliver'd of a girl,
You would not have the child brought up?
Chremes.
I know
What you have done. You have brought up the child.
Syrus.
Madam, if so, my master gains a loss.
Sostra.
No, I have not: but there was at that time
An old Corinthian woman dwelling here,
To whom I gave the child to be expos'd.
Chremes.
O Jupiter! Was ever such a fool!
Sostra.
Ah, what have I committed?
Chremes.
What committed?
Sostra.
If I've offended, Chremes, 'tis a crime
Of ignorance, and nothing of my purpose.
Chremes.
Own it, or not, I know it well enough,
That ignorantly, and imprudently,
In this one action are you guilty of?
For first, had you complied with my commands,
The girl had been dispatch'd; and not her death.
Pretended, and hopes given of her life.
But that I do not dwell upon: You'll cry,
—Pity,—a mother's fondness.—I allow it.
But then how rarely you provided for her!
What could you mean? consider!—for 'tis plain,
You have betray'd your child to that old beldam,
Either for prostitution, or for sale.
So she but liv'd, it was enough, you thought:
No matter how, or what vile life she led.
—What can one do, or how proceed, with those,
Who know of neither reason, right, nor justice?
Better or worse, for or against, they see
Nothing but what they list.
Sostra.
My dearest Chremes,
I own I have offended: I'm convinc'd.
But since you're more experienc'd than myself,
And let my weakness shelter in your justice.
Chremes.
Well, well, I pardon you: but, Sostrata,
Forgiving you thus easily, I do
But teach you to offend again. But come,
Say, wherefore you begun this?
Sostra.
As we women
Are generally weak and superstitious,
When first to this Corinthian old woman
I gave the little infant, from my finger
I drew a ring, and charg'd her to expose
That with my daughter: that if chance she died,
She might have part of our possessions with her.
Chremes.
'Twas right: you thus preserv'd yourself and her.
Sostra.
This is that ring.
Chremes.
Where had it you?
The girl
That Bacchis brought with her—
Syrus.
Ha!
[aside.
Chremes.
What says she?
Sostra.
Desir'd I'd keep it while she went to bathe.
I took no notice on't at first; but I
No sooner look'd on't, than I knew't again,
And strait ran out to you.
Chremes.
And what d'ye think,
Or know concerning her?
Sostra.
I cannot tell,
Till you enquire of herself, and find,
If possible, from whence she had the ring.
Syrus.
Undone! I see more hope than I desire.
She's our's, if this be so.
[aside.
Chremes.
Is she alive
To whom you gave the child?
Sostra.
I do not know.
Chremes.
What did she tell you formerly?
Sostra.
That she
Chremes.
Her name;
That we may make enquiry.
Sostra.
Philtere.
Syrus.
The very same! she's found, and I am lost.
[aside.
Chremes.
In with me, Sostrata!
Sostra.
Beyond my hopes.
How much I fear'd you should continue still
So rigidly inclin'd, as formerly,
When you refus'd to educate her, Chremes!
Chremes.
Men cannot always be, as they desire,
But must be govern'd by their fortunes still.
The times are alter'd with me, and I wish
To have a daughter now; then, nothing less.
Si sic factum est, domina, ergo herus DAMNO AUCTUS est. The most indifferent parts of an author commonly give the most trouble. The sense of the original being somewhat dark, and the best construction not very elegant, several attempts have been made to amend and alter the text. In this, as in most other cases, I believe the common reading to be the right; and that it contains nothing more than a conceit from the slave, founded on the words damno auctus, which I have endeavoured to render in the manner of the original, gains a loss. Some think by his master is meant Clitipho, others Chremes. Eugraphius explains the words to signify that Clitipho will be a loser by a new-found sister, who will be co-heiress; and others will have them to imply the loss to be sustained by Chremes in paying Antiphila's portion.
One cannot avoid being seized with a kind of horror, to think that, in a country so polite as Greece, men should be so barbarous, as to murder their own children without remorse, when they imagined it to be for the interest of their family. Philosophy had long before this demonstrated the horror, not only of these murders, but even of exposing children. But philosophy is always weak and unavailing, when opposed to customs authorized by long usage. Patrick.
The ancients imagined they were guilty of a most heinous crime, if they suffered their children to die, without having possessed some part of their fortune: the women therefore, who are generally superstitious, when they exposed their children, put some jewel or other trinket among their cloaths, by this means thinking to discharge their claim of inheritance, and to clear their own conscience. Dacier.
The meaning of this passage is this. Chremes tells his wife, that by having given this ring, she had done two good acts instead of one; she had cleared her conscience, and preserved her child; for had there been no ring or other token among the infant's things, the finder would scarce have been at the trouble of taking care of her, but might have left her to perish, never suspecting she would ever be enquired after, or themselves liberally rewarded for their pains of preserving her. Dacier.
Hedelin is grossly mistaken in saying that Antiphila bathed during the fourth act. It is so far from true, that, in the beginning of this scene, Sostrata sends the nurse to see if Antiphila was not already come out of the bath. Dacier.
Syrus is alarmed, fearing that, by the discovery of Antiphila, their plot on Menedemus would be baffled, and their imposition on Chremes detected. Eugraphius.
This he says by way of palliating the cruelty of his former orders to put the child to death. Dacier.
Here ends the act, and, by the discovery of Antiphila, to all appearance, the main story of the piece. The following observation on the great art of our poet, in continuing it through two acts more, is extremely just and ingenious.
“What would become of the piece which Terence has called the Self-Tormentor, if the poet, by an extraordinary effort of genius, had not contrived to take up the story of Clinia anew, and to weave it in with the intrigue of Clitipho?”
Diderot. | The Self-Tormentor | |