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SCENE II.

SCENE II.

To them NAUSISTRATA.
Nau.
Who calls for me?

Chre.
Confusion!

Nau.
to Chremes.]
Pray, my dear,
What's this disturbance?

Phor.
Dumb, old Truepenny!

Nau.
Who is this man?—Why don't you answer me?

[to Chremes.

613

Phor.
He answer you! He's hardly in his senses.

Chre.
Never believe him!

Phor.
Do but go, and touch him;
He's in a shivering fit, I'll lay my life.

Chre.
Nay—

Nau.
But what means he then?

Phor.
I'll tell you, Madam;
Do but attend!

Chre.
Will you believe him then?

Nau.
What is there to believe, when he says nothing?

Phor.
Poor man! his fear deprives him of his wits.

Nau.
to Chremes.]
I'm sure, you're not so much afraid for nothing.

Chre.
What! I afraid?

[endeavouring to take heart.
Phor.
Oh, not at all!—And since
You're in no fright, and what I say means nothing,
Tell it yourself.

Dem.
At your desire, you rascal?

Phor.
Oh, you've done rarely for your brother, Sir!

Nau.
What! won't you tell me, husband?


614

Chre.
But—

Nau.
But what?

Chre.
There's no occasion for it.

Phor.
Not for You:
But for the Lady there is much occasion.
In Lemnos—

Chre.
Ha! what say you?

Dem.
to Phor.]
Hold your peace!

Phor.
Without your knowledge—

Chre.
Oh dear!

Phor.
He has had
Another wife.

Nau.
My husband? Heaven forbid!

Phor.
'Tis even so.

Nau.
Ah me! I am undone.

Phor.
—And had a daughter by her there; while You
Was left to sleep in ignorance alone.

Nau.
Oh heavens!—Baseness!—Treachery!

Phor.
'Tis fact.

Nau.
Was ever any thing more infamous?
When they're with Us, their wives forsooth, they're old.
—Demipho, I appeal to You: for Him
I cannot bear to speak to,—And were these
His frequent journies, and long stay at Lemnos?

615

Was this the cheapness that reduc'd our rents?

Dem.
That he has been to blame, Nausistrata,
I don't deny; but not beyond all pardon.

Phor.
You're talking to the dead.

Dem.
It was not done
Out of aversion, or contempt to You.
In liquor, almost fifteen years ago,
He met this woman, whence he had this daughter;
Nor e'er had commerce with her from that hour.
She's dead: your only grievance is remov'd.
Wherefore I beg you'd shew your wonted goodness,
And bear it patiently.

Nau.
How! bear it patiently?
Alas, I wish his vices might end here.
But have I the least hope? Can I suppose
That years will cure these rank offences in him?
Ev'n at that time he was already old,
If age could make him modest.—Are my years,
And beauty, think ye, like to please him more
At present, Demipho, than formerly?
—In short, what ground, what reason to expect
That he should not commit the same hereafter?

Phor.
loud.]
Whoever would attend the funeral

616

Of Chremes, now's the time!—See! That's my way.
Come on then! Provoke Phormio now, who dares!
Like Chremes, he shall fall a victim to me.
—Let him get into favour, when he will!
I've had revenge sufficient. She has something
To ring into his ears his whole life long.

Nau.
Have I deserv'd this?—Need I, Demipho,
Number up each particular; and say
How good a wife I've been?

Dem.
I know it all.

Nau.
Am I then justly treated?

Dem.
Not at all.
But since reproaches can't undo what's done,
Forgive him! He begs pardon; owns his fault;
And promises to mend.—What wou'd you more?

Phor.
But hold; before she ratifies his pardon,
I must secure myself and Phædria.
[aside.
—Nausistrata, a word!—Before you give
Your answer rashly, hear me!

Nau.
What's your pleasure?

Phor.
I trick'd your husband there of Thirty Minæ,

617

Which I have giv'n your son; and he has paid them
To a procurer for a mistress.

Chre.
How!
What say you?

Nau.
Is it such a heinous crime,
For your young son, d'ye think, to have one mistress,
While you have two wives?—Are you not asham'd?
Have you the face to chide him? Answer me!

Dem.
He shall do ev'ry thing you please.

Nau.
Nay, nay,
To tell you plainly my whole mind at once,
I'll not forgive, nor promise any thing,
Nor give an answer, till I see my son.

Phor.
Wisely resolv'd, Nausistrata.

Nau.
Is That
Sufficient satisfaction for you?

Phor.
Quite.
I rest contented, well-pleas'd, past my hopes.

Nau.
What is your name, pray?

Phor.
My name? Phormio:
A faithful friend to all your family,
Especially to Phædria.

Nau.
Trust me, Phormio,
I'll do you all the service in my power.


618

Phor.
I'm much oblig'd to you.

Nau.
You're worthy on't.

Phor.
Will you then even now, Nausistrata,
Grant me one favour, that will pleasure me,
And grieve your husband's sight?

Nau.
With all my soul.

Phor.
Ask me to supper!

Nau.
I invite you.

Dem.
In then!

Nau.
We will. But where is Phædria, our judge?

Phor.
He shall be with you.— [To the audience,

Farewell; Clap your hands!

 

This is commonly translated, “that it is no wonder, that you defend your brother:” but it is a more insulting speech of Phormio, alluding to the miserable condition, to which Chremes was reduced by Demipho's advice. Thus, in the foregoing scene, Phormio says, much in the same spirit,

—But, Demipho,
You have but ill consulted for your brother,
To urge me to extremities.—

Exsequias Chremeti, &c. What creates the drollery of this speech is, that Phormio here makes use of the same terms, which it was customary to use at the proclamation of Funerals—L. Titio exsequias ire cui commodum est, jam tempus est, ollus defertur.

Mactatum infortunis. There is an elegant humour in the combination of these words; mactatum being a term used at sacrifices.

These three last scenes [the same that compose the fifth act in this translation] are perhaps the most beautiful of any in the Phormio; yet Guyetus has declared such a cruel war against them, that he cuts them off at one stroke, without giving quarter to so much as a single verse: but it is impossible not to say, that this is rather the disgust of a sick man, than the wholesome delicacy of a judicious critick.

Dacier.

This remark of Madam Dacier is as just as it is elegant, and the false delicacy of Guyetus is as inconsistent as it is ill founded. For if he considered these scenes as superfluous, those, which here compose the fourth act, are superfluous also; and the play should end with the interview between Chremes and Sophrona; for when Phanium is discovered to be his daughter, nobody can doubt of her being permitted to remain the wife of Antipho, since it is the very thing which the two old gentlemen were labouring to bring about. But the truth is, that Terence in this play has displayed an address something similar to that observed by Mons. Diderot in the Self-Tormentor; for though Chremes has discovered his daughter himself, yet he is particularly anxious to conceal that incident from every personage in the Comedy, except Demipho; and the gradual unfolding that circumstance to all the other characters of the play gives the poet an opportunity of continuing his piece with all that humour and pleasantry, with which we see he has accomplished it: and his uncommon art in thus adding to the interest of his Comedy, instead of suffering it to languish, after so important a discovery, is worthy our particular observation. These scenes have indeed generally procured our poet the approbation of the severest criticks. Bentley, in the last note to the fourth act, speaks of them in the handsomest terms, and is so far from endeavouring to bring them within “the proscribing hook,” that he declares Guyetus to be an absolute madman for his unmerciful sentence of amputation.

But though there are few readers, who would not on this occasion concur in the opinion of Bentley and Dacier, yet I do not think that this Comedy has in general received the encomiums it deserves. The plot indeed, being double, is so far faulty; and the story of Phanium and Antipho would certainly of itself afford sufficient materials for a Comedy, without the episode of Phædria and the Musick-Girl. It must however be acknowledged that, allowing that episode, the construction of the fable is extremely artful, and contains a vivacity of intrigue perhaps even superior to that of the Eunuch, particularly in the Catastrophe. The diction is pure and elegant, and the first act as chastly written as that of the Self-Tormentor itself. The character of Phormio is, as Donatus has observed, finely separated from that of Gnatho, and is, I think, better drawn than that of any Parasite in Plautus. Nausistrata is a lively sketch of a shrewish wife, as well as Chremes an excellent draught of an hen-pecked husband, and more in the stile of the modern drama than perhaps any character in antient comedy, except the Miser of Plautus. On the whole, if Terence copied as closely from his original in this play, as he is supposed to have done in the four which he drew from Menander, it must give us no mean opinion of the dramatick merits of Apollodorus.

Moliere has given us a contemptible travestie of this excellent comedy in his miserable farce of Les Fourberies de Scapin, “The Cheats of Scapin.” It would be too injurious to the memories both of Terence and Moliere to enter into any particular comparison between the two pieces. I shall therefore conclude these notes with the well-known lines of Boileau.

Etudiez la cour, et connoissez la ville:
L'une & l' autre toujours en modeles fertile.
C'est par là que Moliere illustrant ses ecrits,
Peut-être de son Art eut remporté le prix;
Si moins ami du peuple, en ses doctes peintures,
Il n'eut point fait souvent grimacer ses figures;
Quittè pour le bouffon, l'agreable & le fin,
Et sans honte a Terence alliè Tabarin.
Dans ce sac ridicule, ou Scapin s'envelope,
Je ne reconnois plus l'Auteur du Misanthrope.
Art Poetique, Chant troisieme.