University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

PALÆSTRIO,
to Periplectomenes and Pleusides in entering.
Stay ye awhile within doors, let me first
Look out, lest any where an ambuscade
Be plac'd against the council we would hold:
For now we need a safe and secret place,
Where never enemy can win the spoils
By intercepting of our private counsels,
Where never enemy can win the spoils
By over-hearing our deliberations:
For what is well advis'd is ill advis'd,
The foe if it advantage; and it can't be
But, if it profit him, it hurteth me.
Good counsels many a time are filch'd from us,
If that the place for speaking be not chose
With care and caution: for if once the enemy
Learn your deliberations, they can tye
Your tongue, and bind your hands, with your own counsel,
And do the same to you, you would to them.—
But I will spy abroad, lest any one
To right or left should be upon the hunt
To catch our counsels with his ears, like toils.—
The prospect through the street is desart quite,
Ev'n to the farthest end.—I'll call them out.—
Periplectomenes, and Pleusides,
Come forth.

SCENE II.

Enter PERIPLECTOMENES and PLEUSIDES,
PERIPLECTOMENES.
Behold us here obedient to you.

Pal.
The sway is easy o'er the just and good.—
But I would know now, if we are to act
According to the plan we form'd within.

Per.
There's nothing our affair can profit more.

Pal.
You, Pleusides, say, what is your opinion?

Pleu.
Can it displease me, ought that pleases you?
(To Per.)
Who can I call my friend more than yourself?

Per.
You say what is obliging.

Pal.
So he should do.

Pleu.
But, Sir, this hurts me,—to the very soul
Torments me.

Per.
What is't, that torments you?—Tell me.

Pleu.
To think I should engage you in an act
So young and puerile,—one of your years,—
So unbecoming of you and your virtue;—
That you should forward me with all your might
In my amour;—for you to do such things,
Which age like your's doth more avoid than follow!
It shames me, I should trouble thus your age.

Per.
You are a lover, man, of a new mode,
That you can blush at any thing you do.
Go, go, you nothing love.—A lover? No,
The semblance you, and shadow of a lover.

Ple.
Can it be right in me, Sir, to employ
One of your age to second my amour?

Per.
How say you? do I then appear to you
One o'th'next world already? do I seem
So near my grave, and to have liv'd so long?
Why troth I am not above fifty four:—
I have my eye-sight clear, and I can use
My hands, and walk well with my feet.

Pal.
What though
His hair be grey, he is not old in mind:
The same ingenuous temper still is in him.

Pleu.
True—I have found it, as you say, Palæstrio:
For he is kind and free as any youth.

Per.
Good guest, the more you try, the more you'll know
My courtesy towards you in your love.

Pleu.
Needs he conviction, who's convinc'd already?

Per.
Only that you may have sufficient proof
At home, so as abroad you need not seek it.—
He who has never been himself in love,
Can hardly see into a lover's mind:
For my part I have still some little spice
Of love and moisture in my frame; nor am I
Dried up as yet, or dead to love and pleasure.
And I can crack my joke at merry meetings,
And be a boon companion: I ne'er thwart
Another in discourse, but bear in mind,
To give offence to no one: I can take
My part and due share in the conversation;
But I am silent, when another's speaking:
No spitting, hawking, snivelling dotard I:
In fine I'm right Ephesian born and bred,
Not an Apulian, or an Umbrian.

Pal.
What a facetious brave old gentleman,
If he possess the qualities he mentions!
Sure he was brought up in the school of Venus.

Per.
I'll give you proofs of my complacency,
More than I'll vaunt. At table I ne'er clamour
On state affairs, or prate about the laws:
Nor do I ever, in the social hour,
Once cast a lewd glance at another's mistress:
Nor do I snatch the tid-bits to myself,
Or seize upon the cup before my turn:
Strife and dissention never do arise
From me through wine;—if any one offend me,
I go me home, and break off further parley:
When in the ladies company, I then
Resign me up to sprightliness and love.

Pleu.
Sir, your whole manners have a special grace:
Shew me but three men like you, and I'll forfeit
Their weight to you in gold.

Pal.
You shall not find
Another of his age, that's more accomplish'd,
More throughly to his friend a friend.

Per.
I'll make you
Own, in my manners I'm a very youngster;
I'll shew myself so ready to oblige.
Need you an advocate t'inforce your suit,
Rude, and of fiery temper? I am he.
Need you a mild and gentle? You shall say,
I'm gentler than the sea, when it is hush'd,
And softer than the Zephyr's balmy breeze.
A jovial buck am I, a first-rate wit,
And best of caterers: then as for dancing,
No finical slim fop can equal me.

Pal.
(To Pleu.)
Of all these excellent accomplishments,
Which would you chuse, were you to have the option?

Pleu.
I would at least, my poor thanks could be equal
To his deserts, and your's; for I have giv'n you
A world of trouble.—But it much concerns me,
Th'expence I put you to.

(To Per.)
Per.
You are a fool;—
Expence forsooth!—Upon an enemy,
Or a bad wife, whatever you lay out,
That is expence indeed! But on a friend,
Or a good guest, what you expend is gain:
As also, what it costs in sacrifices,
Is by the wise and virtuous counted profit.—
Blest be the Gods, that courtesy I have
With hospitality to treat a stranger.
Eat, drink, and take your pleasure with me; load
Yourself with merriment; my house is free,
I free, and I would have you use me freely.
For, by the Gods kind favour I may say it,
I from my fortune might have ta'en a wife
Of the best family, and well portion'd too:
But I don't chuse to bring into my house
An everlasting barker.

Pleu.
Why not marry?
'Tis a sweet burthen to have children.

Per.
Troth
'Tis sweeter far to have one's liberty.

Pal.
Sir, you are able to direct yourself,
And give advice to others.

Per.
A good wife,—
If there was ever such an one on earth,—
Where can I find her?—Shall I bring home one,
That never will address me in this fashion?
“Buy me some wool, my dear, that I may make you
“A garment soft and warm, good winter cloathing,
“To keep your limbs from starving.” Not a word
Like this you'll ever hear come from a wife:—
But, ere the cock crow, from my sleep she'd rouze me,
Crying—“My dear, pray give me wherewithal
“I may present my mother in the Calends:—
“Get me a cook; and get me a confectioner:—
“Give something to bestow in the Quinquatria
“On the diviner, on th'enchantress, on
“The soothsayer:—it were an heinous crime
“To send them nothing;—how they'd look upon me!—
“And then it can't be, but I must present
“The sorceress with some kind and gentle token:—
“The taper-bearer is already angry,
“That she has nothing had:—the midwife too
“Upbraids me, that she has so little sent her:—
“What!—won't you then send something to the nurse,
“That brings your slaves up, born beneath your roof?”
These, and a thousand other like expences,
Brought on by women, fright me from a wife,
Who'd plague and teaze me with the like discourses.

Pal.
The Gods in troth befriend you; for if once
You lose that liberty which now you hold,
You will not easily be re-instated.

Pleu.
Yet 'tis a reputation for a man
Of noble family and ample state,
To breed up children, as a monument
Unto himself and race.

Per.
Why need I children,
When that I have relations in abundance?—
I now live well and happily,—as I like,
And to my heart's content.—Upon my death,
My fortune I'll bequeath to my relations,
Dividing it among them.—They eat with me,
Make me their care, see what I have to do,
Or what I want; are with me before day,
To ask if I have slept well over-night:
They are to me as children: they are ever
Sending me presents: when they sacrifice,
I have a larger portion than themselves:
They take me to the entrails: they invite me
To dine, to sup with them: he counts himself
The most unfortunate, that fends me least:
They vie with one another in their presents;
When to myself I whisper all the while,
Aye, aye, it is my fortune they gape after,
And therefore strive they in their gifts to me.

Pal.
You see things with a clear discerning spirit.
While you are well and hearty, we may say
You've children thick and three-fold.

Per.
Had I had,
I should have had anxiety enough
On their account: I think I should have died,
If son of mine had had a fall in liquor,
Or tumbled from his horse; so great had been
My dread, that he had broke a leg at least,
If not his neck.—And then my apprehensions,
Lest that my wife should bring a monstrous brood,
Deform'd, and mark'd,—some bandy-leg'd, knock-kneed,
Or shambling, squint-eyed, tusk-tooth'd brat or other.

Pal.
This gentleman deserves an ample fortune,
And to have life continued to him long;
For why? he keeps him within bounds, and yet
Lives well, and is a pleasure to his friends.

Pleu.
What a sweet fellow!—As I hope heav'n's love,
'Twere fit the Gods should order and provide,
That all men should not hold their lives alike,
Squar'd by one rule: but as a price is fix'd
On different wares, that so they may be sold
According to their value;—that the bad
It's owner may impoverish by it's vileness;—
So it were just, the Gods in human life
Should make distinction due, and disproportion;
That on the well-disposed they should bestow
A long extent of years; the reprobate
And wicked they should soon deprive of life.
Were this provided, bad men would be fewer,
Less hardily they'd act their wicked deeds,
Nor would there be a dearth of honest men.

Per.
Whoever blames the counsels of the Gods,
And finds fault with them, is a fool and ignorant.—
No more then of these matters.—I'll to market,
That I may entertain you as I ought,
And as you should be treated,—with good cheer
And a kind hearty welcome.

Pleu.
Shall I then
Have no remorse in putting you to charge?
Whene'er a man is quarter'd at a friend's,
If he but stay three days, his company
They will grow weary of; but if he tarry
Ten days together, though the master bear it,
The servants grumble.

Per.
Wherefore have I servants,
But to perform me service, not that they
Should bear authority o'er me, or hold me
Bounden to them?—If what I like they like not,
I steer my own course: though 'tis their aversion,
Still they must do't, or be it at their peril.—
But I will now proceed, as I intended,
To get provisions.

Pleu.
If you're so resolv'd,
Pray cater sparingly, at no great cost.—
For me, I am content with any thing.—

Per.
Away now with such antiquated stuff,
The ordinary cant of common folks,
Who, when they are sat down, and supper's serv'd,
Cry,—“What occasion was there for this charge
“On our account?—why sure, Sir, you was mad:—
“For, look ye, here's enough for half a score.”—
With what's provided for them they find fault,
And yet they eat.

Pal.
Faith 'tis their very way.—
How shrewd is his discernment!

Per.
All the while,
These self-same gentry, be it e'er so great
The plenty set before them, never say,—
“Here take this off;—away there with that dish;—
“Remove that gammon hence,—it is not wanted;—
“Take off that chine;—this conger will be good,
“When cold.”—Remove!—Carry away!—Take off!—
No, no,—you never hear a word of this
From any of them;—but they stretch them forward,
And hang with half their bodies o'er the table,
Straining to snatch the daintiest bits.

Pal.
Good soul!
How well has he describ'd their scurvy manners!

Per.
What I have said is scarce an hundredth part
Of what I have in store, if leisure serv'd.

Pal.
Good,—it were fit then we should turn our thoughts
Upon our present business.—Mark me now,—
Both lend me your attention.—I have need,
Periplectomenes, of your assistance;
For I have hit upon a pleasant trick
Will clip his cock's-comb, shave our captain close,
Enable this Philocomasium's lover
To bear her off with him.

Per.
Impart to me
The plan of your device.

Pal.
Impart to me
That ring of your's.

Per.
For what end would you use it?

Pal.
When I have got it, I will then impart
The plan of my device.

Per.
(giving him the ring)
Here—use it, take it.

Pal.
Take in return from me the plan I've laid.

Pleu.
We both attend to you with open ears.

Pal.
My master's such a rake, so fond of women,
There never was his equal I believe,
Nor ever will be.

Per.
I believe the same.

Pal.
He boasts, that in his person he exceeds
Ev'n Alexander's self, and that he's followed
By all our women here in Ephesus.

Per.
Needs there much said? I know you do not lie,
But am convinc'd 'tis e'en so as you say.—
Be brief then, and compendious as you can.

Pal.
Well, can you find me a smart handsome wench,
Buxom in mind and body, full of art?

Per.
Of what condition?—free by birth, or bond-woman
Made free?

Pal.
'Tis equal to me, so you find
One that lets out herself for hire, and draws
Support from prostitution.—She should have
A knowing mind;—I speak not of her heart,—
For that no woman has.

Per.
Would you a dame
Experienc'd, or a novice?

Pal.
I would have her
As brisk, as roguish, and as young as may be.

Per.
I have hard by one under my protection
Fit for your purpose,—a young courtesan.—
But how would you employ her?

Pal.
Bring her home,
And let her be apparell'd like a matron,
Her head well drest, her hair bound up with fillets:
Let her pretend, that she's your wife;—for so
You must instruct her.

Pleu.
I am at a loss,
What road it is you take.

Pal.
But ye shall know.
What maid has she?

Per.
A rare one.

Pal.
We have need
Of her too.—You must thus instruct them both,—
Mistress and maid.—The mistress shall pretend,
That she's your wife, and doats upon this captain:
And we'll pretend moreover, that she gave
Her maid this ring, and that she brought it me
To give it to the captain, and I'll seem
A go-between in this affair.

Per.
I hear you,—
Don't stun me,—I'm not deaf.

Pal.
You understand me.
I will present our captain with this ring,
Tell him 'twas brought and giv'n me from your wife,
To win his favour: he's of such a nature,
That he'll affect her with a strong desire;
A rake-hell!—whose whole study is employ'd
In nothing but intrigue.

Per.
The sun himself,
Had you commission'd him to search them out,
Could not have found two fitter for the purpose,
Than those that I shall furnish.—Courage, man.

Pal.
'Tis necessary we should act with care,
And with dispatch.

[Exit Periplectomenes.

SCENE III.

PALÆSTRIO and PLEUSIDES.
Pal.
Now heark me, Pleusides.

Pleu.
I'm all obedience.

Pal.
Mind you,—when the captain
Comes home, be sure remember not to call
Philocomasium by her name.

Pleu.
What then?

Pal.
Why, Glycera.

Pleu.
Oh, the same we late agreed on.

Pal.
No more:—begone now.

Pleu.
I'll remember,—but,
I pray you, for what purpose is this caution?

Pal.
I'll tell you, when occasion shall require;—
Mean time be quiet.—As He acts his part,
You on your side be mindful of your cue.

Pleu.
I'll in then.

Pal.
See, you follow your instructions.

[Pleusides goes in.
Pal.
What turmoils I create! what mighty engines
I set to work!—Now shall I carry off
Our captain's lady, if my band of soldiery
Are rightly train'd.—But I will call him forth.—
Hola,—Sceledrus,—if you are not busy,
Step here.—Palæstrio calls you.—Hoa—

SCENE IV.

Enter LUCRIO, a Lad.
Sceledrus
Is not at leisure.

Pal.
Why?

Lucr.
He's fast asleep
Gulping.

Pal.
Gulping what?

Lucr.
Snoring I would say;—
But they are both so much alike;—to snore
Is as it were to gulp.

Pal.
What! is Sceledrus
Asleep within?

Lucr.
Not with his nose indeed;—
With that he makes an huge noise.—He has taken
A cup by stealth: the butler through neglect
Left in his way a pitcher-full of Nardine.

Pal.
Hoa, rascal, you that are the under butler,
Hearkye me.—

Lucr.
What's your pleasure?

Pal.
How is it,
That he's asleep?

Lucr.
How?—with his eyes, I think.

Pal.
Sirrah, I do not ask you that.—Come hither.—
You are undone, except I know the truth.—
You drew him wine?

Lucr.
Not I.

Pal.
Do you deny it?

Lucr.
Yes truly;—for he charg'd me not to tell.—
Not I indeed forsooth,—I did not draw him
A pitcher of eight pints,—no, nor did he
Drink hot wine at his dinner.

Pal.
Nor did you
Drink too.

Lucr.
The Gods confound me, if I did,—
If drink I could.

Pal.
For why?

Lucr.
I only sipt,—
It was too hot, it burnt my throat.

Pal.
Well,—some
Get glorious drunk, some guzzle meagre stuff.—
The cellar's trusted to an honest butler,
As well as under-butler!

Lucr.
You in troth
Would do the self-same, if you had the care on't.—
Because you cannot copy us, you now envy.

Pal.
Hoa,—did he never draw him wine before?—
Answer me, villain.—And be sure of this,—
I give you warning,—if you tell me false,
You shall be tortur'd,—rascal!

Lucr.
So will you
Inform against me, hey; and then shall I
Be ousted from my battening-post, that you
May have an under-butler to your mind,
To draw you wine in plenty.

Pal.
Faith I will not.—
Come then, speak boldly to me.

Lucr.
Then by heavens
I never saw him draw one drop of wine:—
But thus it was;—he order'd and I drew.

Pal.
What, did you stoop the cask?

Lucr.
That's not so easy:
Besides, the cellar's very wet and slippery.—
Close by the cask a water-pot is plac'd,
That holds two pints. Now this was often fill'd,—
Ten times a day;—I've seen it quick replenish'd,
And emptied all as quickly.—As the pot
Mov'd to and fro, the casks would stoop to meet it.

Pal.
Go, get you in.—Ye play the Bacchanals
Both of you in the wine cellar.—I'll fetch
My master from the Forum.

Lucr.
(Aside.)
I am ruin'd.—
When he comes home, and learns what has been done,
He'll have me whipt, because I did not tell him.—
I'll e'en take to my heels,—and skulking somewhere
Stave off my sufferings to a further day. (Going.)

(To the spectators.)
I do beseech you, that you will not tell him.

Pal.
Whither art going?

Lucr.
I am sent elsewhere,
And shall return this instant.

Pal.
Who has sent you?

Lucr.
Philocomasium.

Pal.
Go,—be back directly.

Lucr.
If there's a dividend, while I'm away,
Of a sound beating, do you take my share on't.

[Lucrio goes off.

SCENE V.

PALÆSTRIO
alone.
So—now I know our lady's drift: the while
Sceledrus is asleep, she has sent out
Her under-keeper, so that she may pass
From our house into this.—I like it well.—
But see—Periplectomenes comes yonder,
Bringing along, as I commission'd him,
A woman of incomparable beauty.—
The gods take part with us in our affair.—
See how demure she treads! and how becoming
Is her apparell!—nothing like an harlot.—
This business prospers rarely in our hands.

SCENE VI.

Enter PERIPLECTOMENES advancing with ACROTELEUTIUM and MILPHIDIPPA, at a distant Part of the Stage.
Within have I explain'd this whole affair
To you, Acroteleutium, and to you,
My Milphidippa;—and if our device
Ye comprehend but slightly, I could wish
Ye were again instructed in't more throughly;
But if sufficiently ye understand it,
There's other matter we may rather talk of.

Acr.
'Twould be a folly in me, and the height
Of ignorance, to undertake a work,
Or promise my assistance, if I knew not
How to acquit me in the business.

Per.
Yet
'Tis best to be advised.

Acr.
Advise an harlot!
What that imports, to me is yet a secret.
But I do wrong myself, letting my ears
Drink your discourse in dull delay.—I've told you,
How we may hew this block here of a captain.

Per.
Two heads are better, as they say, than one.—
But many, I have often known, avoid
Advice, sooner than find it.

Acr.
Trust a woman,—
If she has any mischief to promote,
I warrant, she'll remember;—in that point
Her memory is immortal, everlasting:—
If any thing is to be done by them
Or good or honest,—so it happens, strait
They grow forgetful, and they can't remember.

Per.
Therefore I fear th'event of our proceedings,
Seeing the injury ye do the captain,
Will be to my advantage.

Acr.
Never fear:—
Whatever good we chance to do, we do
Unwittingly.—No harlot but is ready,
When mischief is on foot.

Per.
Your very character.—
Come, follow me.

Pal.
Why don't I go and meet them?
(Advancing.)
Sir, I am glad to see you.—By my troth
She's admirably drest.

Per.
Well met, Palæstrio,—
Most opportunely.—Here they are, the women
You bade me bring, and drest as you required.

Per.
Be one of us.—Palæstrio salutes
Acroteleutium.

Acr.
Prithee, who is this,
That calls me so familiar by my name,
As if he knew me?

Per.
He's our master-plotter.

Acr.
Your servant, master-plotter!

Pal.
I am your's.—
But tell me, has he giv'n you full instructions?

Per.
I've brought them both well studied in their parts.

Pal.
Fain would I hear as how; for I'm afraid,
Lest ye should err in any point.

Per.
I've only
Retail'd your precepts:—nothing have I added
New of myself.

Acr.
Is it your will forsooth,
The captain should be play'd on?

Pal.
You have said it.

Acr.
We are prepar'd with cunning and address.

Pal.
And you must feign yourself His wife.

Acr.
I shall.

Pal.
And that you've set your heart upon the captain.

Acr.
'Twill so fall out.

Pal.
And the affair shall seem
As carried on betwixt your maid and me.—

Acr.
Well, surely you may set up for a prophet,
Since you divine so rarely what will happen.—

Pal.
And further—that she brought this ring from you,
For me to give the captain in your name.

Acr.
Right,—you say true.

Per.
What needs there repetition,
When they so well remember?

Acr.
It is best.—
For think you this, my patron: When the ship-wright,
If he has skill, has once laid down the keel,
Exact to line and measure, it is easy
To build the ship thus laid and tightly founded.—
Our keel's already laid and tightly founded;—
Our workmen are at hand,—procur'd by me,
By you,—and not unskilful: now if he,
Who furnishes the timber, don't retard us,
I know our skill,—our ship will soon be ready.

Pal.
Pray, do you know my master?

Acr.
It is strange,
That you should ask me.—What! must I not know
The scorn of every one? an empty Braggard,
A wenching, perfum'd, frizzle-pated fellow.

Pal.
And does he know you too?

Acr.
He never saw me;—
How should he know me then, or who I am?

Pal.
That's rare;—our project will succeed most rarely.

Acr.
Give me the man, be quiet for the rest;
And if I do not play him such a game,—
Lay the whole blame on me.

Per.
Well, go you in then.
Be mindful of your business.

Acr.
Never fear us.

Pal.
Do you conduct them in, Sir.—I'll go meet
My master at the Forum, with this ring
Present him, say 'twas giv'n me from your wife,
And that she's dying for him.—When that we
Return, let Milphidippa come to us,
As though she were dispatch'd to me in private.

Per.
We'll do so—never fear us.

Pal.
You'll take care then.
I'll bring him hither loaded like a pack-ass.

Per.
Now luck go with you! manage well this business.
(To Acr.)
But should it be effected, that my guest
Shall gain the captain's mistress, and depart
For Athens with her,—should our trick succeed,
What present must I make you?

Acr.
You shall promise
To love no other woman but myself.

Pal.
Most sweetly said.

Acr.
I trust we shall succeed.
When all our cunning is combin'd together,
I have no fear, that we shall be o'er-match'd
In subtlety and fraud.

Per.
Then let us in,
And weigh our counsels deeply in our thoughts,
That we may act with caution, lest the captain,
When he returns, in ought should find us tripping.

Acr.
Come, come, you but delay us with your prattle.

[Periplectomenes goes in with the women, and Palæstrio goes off.