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447

ACT II.

SCENE I.

LACHES, SOSTRATA.
Lach.
Oh heav'n and earth, what animals are women!
What a conspiracy between them all,
To do or not do, love or hate alike!
Not one but has the sex so strong in her,
She differs nothing from the rest. Step-mothers
All hate their step-daughters: and every wife
Studies alike to contradict her husband,
The same perverseness running through them all.
Each seems train'd up in the same school of mischief:
And of that school, if any such there be,
My wife, I think is school-mistress.


448

Sostra.
Ah me!
Who know not why I am accus'd.

Lach.
Not know?

Sostra.
No, as I hope for mercy! as I hope
We may live long together!

Lach.
Heav'n forbid!

Sostra.
Hereafter, Laches, you'll be sensible
How wrongfully you have accus'd me.

Lach.
I?—
Accuse you wrongfully?—Is't possible
To speak too hardly of your late behaviour?
Disgracing me, yourself, and family;
Laying up sorrow for your absent son;
Converting into foes his new-made friends,
Who thought him worthy of their child in marriage.
You've been our bane, and by your shrewishness
Brew'd this disturbance.

Sostra.
I?

Lach.
You, woman, you:
Who take me for a stone, and not a man.
Think ye, because I'm mostly in the country,
I'm ignorant of your proceedings here?
No, no; I know much better what's done here,
Than where I'm chiefly resident. Because

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Upon my family at home, depends
My character abroad. I knew long since
Philumena's disgust to you;—no wonder!
Nay, 'twere a wonder, had it not been so.
Yet I imagin'd not her hate so strong,
'Twould vent itself upon the family:
Which had I dream'd of, she should have remain'd,
And you pack'd off.—Consider, Sostrata,
How little cause you had to vex me thus.
In complaisance to you, and husbanding
My fortune, I retir'd into the country;
Scraping, and labouring beyond the bounds
Of reason, or my age, that my estate
Might furnish means for your expence and pleasure.
—Was it not then your duty in return
To see that nothing happen'd here to vex me?

Sostra.
'Twas not my doing, nor my fault indeed.

Lach.
'Twas your fault, Sostrata; your fault alone.
You was sole mistress here; and in your care
The house, tho' I had freed you of all other cares.
A woman, an old woman too, and quarrel
With a green girl! oh shame upon't!—You'll say
That 'twas her fault.

Sostra.
Not I indeed, my Laches.


450

Lach.
Fore heav'n, I'm glad on't! on my son's account.
For as for You, I'm well enough assur'd,
No fault can make you worse.

Sostra.
But prithee, husband,
How can you tell that her aversion to me
Is not a mere pretence, that she may stay
The longer with her mother?

Lach.
No such thing.
Was not your visit yesterday a proof,
From their denial to admit you to her?

Sostra.
They said she was so sick she could not see me.

Lach.
Sick of your humours; nothing else, I fancy.
And well she might: for there's not one of you
But want your sons to take a wife: and that's
No sooner over, but the very woman,
Which by your instigation they have married,
They, by your instigation, put away.

 

Donatus remarks that this scene opens the intention of Terence to oppose the generally-received opinion, and to draw the character of a good Step-Mother. It would therefore, as has been already observed, have been a very proper scene to begin the play, as it carries us immediately into the midst of things; and we cannot fail to be interested where we see the persons acting so deeply interested themselves. We gather from it just so much of the story, as is necessary for our information at first setting out: We are told of the abrupt departure of Philumena, and are witnesses of the confusion in the two families of Laches and Phidippus. The absence of Laches, which had been in great measure the occasion of this misunderstanding, is also very artfully mentioned in the altercation between him and Sostrata.—The character of Laches is very naturally drawn. He has a good heart, and a testy disposition; and the poor old gentleman is kept in such constant perplexity, that he has perpetual occasion to exert both those qualities.

SCENE II.

Enter PHIDIPPUS.
Phid.
to Phil. within.]
Although, Philumena, I know my pow'r

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To force you to comply with my commands,
Yet yielding to paternal tenderness,
I e'en give way, nor cross your humour.

Lach.
See,
Phidippus in good time! I'll learn from him
The cause of this.— [going up to him.]
Phidippus, tho' I own

Myself indulgent to my family,
Yet my complacency and easiness
Runs not to that extreme, that my good-nature
Corrupts their morals. Would you act like me,
'Twould be of service to both families.
But you I see are wholly in their pow'r.

Phid.
See there!

Lach.
I waited on you yesterday

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About your daughter: but I went away,
No wiser than I came. It is not right,
If you would have the alliance last between us,
To smother your resentment. If We seem
In fault, declare it; that we may refute,
Or make amends for our offence: and you
Shall carve the satisfaction out yourself.
But if her sickness only is the cause
Of her remaining in your family,
Trust me, Phidippus, but you do me wrong,
To doubt her due attendance at my house.
For, by the pow'rs of heav'n, I'll not allow
That you, altho' her father, wish her better
Than I. I love her on my son's account;
To whom, I'm well convinc'd, she is as dear
As he is to himself: and I can tell
How deeply 'twill affect him, if he knows this.
Wherefore I wish she should come home again,
Before my son's return.

Phid.
My good friend Laches,
I know your care, and your benevolence;
Nor doubt but all is as you say; and hope

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That you'll believe I wish for her return,
So I could but effect it.

Lach.
What prevents it?
Tell me, Phidippus! does she blame her husband?

Phid.
Not in the least. For when I urg'd it home,
And threaten'd to oblige her to return,
She vow'd most solemnly, she could not bear
Your house, so long as Pamphilus was absent.
—All have their failings: I am of so soft
A nature, I can't thwart my family.

Lach.
Ha, Sostrata!

[to Sostrata, apart.
Sostra.
Wretch that I am! Ah me!

[aside.
Lach.
And her return's impossible?

[to Phidippus.
Phid.
At present.
—Would you aught else with me? for I have business
That calls me to the Forum.

Lach.
I'll go with you.

[Exeunt.
 

This expostulation of Laches with Phidippus is a most faithful and elegant copy of nature. His peace of mind being disturbed by the disorders he finds in his family, his ill-humour, like that of most married men, breaks out first upon his wife. But as family-scenes, whether sweet or bitter, are seldom agreeable to a third person, the presence of Phidippus immediately puts an end to their dialogue. But the circumstance which I most admire is, that although Laches had just before thrown the whole blame on Sostrata, he no sooner sees Phidippus than he endeavours to exculpate his own family, and to insinuate that the whole fault lies on that of his neighbour.

Heia vero! These words, seemingly so easy, have yet puzzled Commentators. Donatus makes them an adverb of interruption. Madam Dacier interprets them as addressed by Phidippus to his daughter, in reference to their conversation within, signifying, “Did not I tell you they would “be offended at your absence?” For my part I take it to be an emotion of surprize mixed with discontent. Phidippus, while he is yet discoursing with his daughter, is suddenly accosted by Laches, and in language too, that he did not much like. Upon which he exclaims, Heia vero! which words seem to answer pretty nearly to our phrase, Look ye there now! a phrase often used on the like occasions. Patrick.

Here the Poet very artfully prepares a reason to be assigned by Pamphilus for his pretended discontent at the departure of his wife. Donatus.

This is extremely artful. The answer of Philumena, as related by Phidippus, contains an ample vindication of Pamphilus. What then can we suppose could make the house so disagreeable to her in his absence, but the behaviour of Sostrata? She declares her innocence; yet appearances are all against her. Supposing this to be the first act of the play, it would be impossible for a Comedy to open in a more interesting manner.


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SCENE III.

Manet SOSTRATA.
Sostra.
How unjustly
Do husbands stretch their censures to all wives
For the offences of a few, whose vices
Reflect dishonour on the rest!—For, heaven
So help me, as I'm wholly innocent
Of what my husband now accuses me!
But 'tis no easy task to clear myself;
So fix'd and rooted is the notion in them,
That Step-Mothers are all severe.—Not I;
For I have ever lov'd Philumena,
As my own daughter; nor can I conceive
What accident has drawn her hatred on me.
My son's return, I hope, will settle all;
And, ah, I've too much cause to wish his coming.

[Exit.