University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter PALÆSTRIO.

SCENE II.

Enter PERIPLECTOMENES, speaking to his Servants within.
If ye don't break his legs, whatever stranger
Ye shall hereafter see upon the tiles,
Your sides shall suffer for't.—Why now forsooth,
My neighbours, they are witnesses of all
That passes in my house, when thus they look
Down through the sky-light.—I command you all,
Whomever ye shall see upon the tiles
Belonging to this captain here, except
Palæstrio only, push him headlong down
Into the street, though he pretends forsooth
That he is only looking for an hen,
A pigeon, or a monkey: Woe be to you,
If you don't beat the rascal e'en to death.

Pal.
Something is done amiss, I know not what,
To the old fellow by our family,
As far as I can hear, since he has order'd
That they should break my fellow servant's legs:
But me he has excepted: nothing care I,
How he shall serve the rest. I'll make up to him.
Is he not coming tow'rds me? Sure he is.—
Periplectomenes! your servant, Sir.

Per.
Oh,—if I were to wish, there are not many
I'd rather see and talk with than yourself.

Pal.
Why? wherefore? what's the matter?

Per.
All's discover'd!

Pal.
What all's discover'd?

Per.
From our tiles e'en now
One of your family, I know not who,
Saw through the sky-light all that past within;
Philocomasium and my guest he saw
Exchanging kisses.

Pal.
Ha—who saw them?

Per.
'Twas
Your fellow-servant.

Pal.
Which?

Per.
I know not that,
So suddenly he took himself away.

Pal.
My ruin I suspect.

Per.
As he went off,
“Hoa there, cried I, what do you on our tiles?”
The runaway replied, he had been seeking
A monkey that had stray'd.

Pal.
Ah me! that I
Should suffer for a beast so little worth.—
But is the lady with you still?

Per.
She was,
When I came out.

Pal.
Then, soon as e'er she can,
Bid her return to us, that our domestics
May see she is at home, unless she wills,
That we poor servants should be put to torture
By reason of her love.

Per.
I bade her do it:
Would you ought else?

Pal.
I would. Pray tell her this;
She must use cunning, prove her an apt scholar,
And hold unchang'd her colour.

Per.
Wherefore? how?

Pal.
That he, who saw her, may be wrought upon
To think he saw her not: nay, though he saw her
An hundred times, she must deny it still.
She has a lying tongue, a wit that's ripe
For mischief, an assurance so undaunted,
Nothing can shake it: whosoe'er accuse her,
She would not stick at perjury to refute him.
She has at home, within herself, a mind
Fraught with false words, false actions, and false oaths,
Tricks, stratagems, devices, and intrigues.
Nor need a woman, that is bent on ill,
Seek from abroad the means, who is herself
All plot.

Per.
I'll tell her this, if she's within here.
But what is it, Palæstrio, in your mind
You're with yourself revolving?

Pal.
Peace awhile,—
While that I call a council in my breast,
Consulting how to act, what craft t'oppose
Against my crafty fellow-servant, he
Who saw the lovers billing,—so that what
Was seen may not be seen.

Per.
I prithee, seek it:
Mean time I'll get me at a distance from you.—
(Retires.
Look!—how he stands apart, with brow severe,
As wrapt in thought, and full of cares:—His hand
Knocks at his breast;—I fancy, he's about
To call his heart out. See, he shifts his posture,
And leaning his left elbow on his thigh
The fingers of his right hand he employs,
As it should seem, in reckoning some account;
And his right thigh he smites so vehemently,
As speaks him with his thoughts dissatisfied:
And now he snaps his fingers: how he's work'd!
And ever and anon he shifts his place:
See, see, he nods his head: he likes it not,
What he has hit upon; for nothing crude
Will he at length bring forth, but well digested.
But see, he builds his head up, and his arm
Serves as a pillar to support his chin.
Fye, fye,—in troth I do not like this building;
For I have heard a certain poet us'd
To lean his head upon his elbow thus,
And in close custody he liv'd confin'd.
Bravo! O brave! how well he plays his part!
Ne'er will he rest, till he has perfected
What he's in search of.—Oh, he has it sure.—
Come—to the business—mind what you're about:
Awake, and do not sleep; unless you chuse
To have your back chequer'd with stripes: Awake,
I tell you: don't be idle: Hoa, 'tis I
That speak to you, Palæstrio: Wake, I say;
Why wake, I say: 'tis day-light, man.

Pal.
I hear you.

Per.
Do you not see your foes are coming on you?
Do you not know they'll lay siege to your back?
Consult on measures then; procure assistance:
Do it with speed; no sluggishness is fitting:
Get of your foes the start; draw forth your army;
Besiege them first; and for yourself provide
A safe-guard and defence; cut off their convoys;
Secure yourself a passage, that provisions
May unmolested reach you and your troops.
Look to the business: the affair is sudden:
Invent, contrive, find some expedient strait,
Some counsel on the spot, that what was seen
May seem not seen, what done not done at all.
Grand is the enterprize: yet say the word,
That you will take it on yourself alone,
My heart is confident that we shall rout them.

Pal.
I say it then,—I take it on myself.

Per.
And I, whatever you require, will grant.

Pal.
Heav'ns bless you!

Per.
But, good friend, impart to me
What is it you've devis'd.

Pal.
Then list in silence,
While I admit you to the misteries
Of all my cunning: you shall know my counsels
Ev'n as myself.

Per.
What you entrust me with
You shall have back entire upon demand.

Pal.
My master's thicker than the elephant's hide,
Has no more wisdom than a stone.

Per.
I know it.

Pal.
Now this is my devise: I will pretend
That a twin-sister of Philocomasium
(As like her as one drop of milk to another)
Is with a certain gallant come from Athens,
And that they lodge with you.

Per.
O bravo! bravo!
An exquisite conceit! I 'plaud your thought.

Per.
So if my fellow servant should accuse
Our lady to the captain, that he saw her
Caressing of another, on my part
I'll argue t'was her sister that he saw,
With her own lover kissing and embracing.

Per.
Most excellent! And I will say the same,
If that the captain should enquire of me.

Pal.
Be sure you say, they are most like each other:
The lady too must be instructed, lest
He catch her tripping, should he question her.

Per.
Most artful the contrivance!—But suppose
That he should want to see them both together
In the same place:—What then is to be done?

Pal.
That's easy: you may find enough excuses:
She's not at home, she is gone out a walking,
She is asleep, she's dressing, she is bathing,
She's busy, she's at dinner, not at leisure,
She cannot come: as many as you will
Of these put-offs you'll readily think on, if
We can induce him to believe at once
Our first grand fib.

Per.
It likes me what you say.

Pal.
Then go you in, and if the lady's with you,
Bid her come home to us immediately.
Acquaint her with these matters, and instruct her,
That she may comprehend the plot, which now
We're entering on, concerning her twin-sister.

Per.
I warrant, you shall find her aptly tutor'd.
Would you ought else?

(Going.)
Pal.
No, go, Sir.

Per.
I am gone.

[Exit Periplectomenes.

SCENE III.

PALÆSTRIO
alone.
And I'll go home too, use my best endeavours
To trace my man out: but I must dissemble,
(A stranger to the matter I,) to learn
Which of my fellow-servants 'twas, to-day
That sought this monkey: for it cannot be,
But he must prate to some one of our family
About my master's lady, how he saw her
Next door caressing of a stranger spark.
I know their manners, and myself alone
Of all our house have learn'd to hold my tongue.
If I do find him, my whole armament
I'll plant against him: all things are prepared;
And for a certainty my force must conquer him.
If I don't find him, like an hound I'll go
Smelling about, until I shall have traced
My fox out by his track. But our door creaks:
My voice I'll lower: here comes my fellow-servant,
The guardian of Philocomasium.

SCENE IV.

Enter SCELEDRUS.
If I have not been walking in my sleep
Upon the tiles, I'm certain that I saw
My master's lady in our neighbour's house;
And she has sought her out another lover.

Pal.
As far as I can learn, 'twas he then saw her.

Sce.
Who's that?

Pal.
Your fellow-servant.—So, Sceledrus!
How fares it?

Sce.
O Palæstria! I am glad
I've met you.

Pal.
How now? what's the matter? Tell me.

Sce.
I fear—

Pal.
What fear you?

Sce.
That we all shall dance
To the musick of a cudgel.

Pal.
Nay, do you
Dance by yourself: for me, I like it not,
This jigging work, this capering up and down.

Sce.
Haply you do not know, what new mischance
Has just befall'n us.

Pal.
What mischance?

Sce.
A filthy.

Pal.
Then keep it to yourself, don't tell it me,
I would not know it.

Sce.
But you must.—To-day,
As I was looking for our monkey, here
Upon our neighbour's tiles—

Pal.
One worthless beast
Was looking for another.

Sce.
Plague confound you!

Pal.
You rather.—But go on, as you've begun.

Sce.
I haply chanc'd to peep down through the sky-light
Into next house, and there did I espy
Our lady fondling with I know not whom,
Another spark.

Pal.
What do I hear you say?
A villainous scandal!—

Sce.
By my troth I saw her.

Pal.
What, you?

Sce.
Yes, I myself, with both these eyes.

Pal.
Go, go, it is not likely what you say;
Nor did you see her.

Sce.
How? do I appear,
As if my eye-sight fail'd me?

Pal.
You had better
Ask a physician that.—But as you wish
The Gods to love you, do not rashly foster
This idle story, or you will create
A capital mischief to your head, and heels too.
For if you do not stop your foolish chattering,
A two-fold ruin waits you.

Sce.
But how two-fold?

Pal.
I'll tell you. First, if falsely you accuse
Our lady, woe be to you; and again,
Suppose it true, yet woe be to you,—you
Her guardian.

Sce.
What will me befal, I know not;
But I do know for certain, that I saw her.

Pal.
Dost thou persist in't, thou unhappy wretch?

Sce.
What would you have me say, but that I saw her?
Moreover she's within here at this instant,
Here at next door.

Pal.
How? is she not at home?

Sce.
Go yourself in, and see; for I will ask you
To credit me in nothing.

Pal.
I will do it.

Sce.
I'll wait you here.

[Palæstrio goes in.

SCENE V.

SCELEDRUS
alone.
The same time will I watch,
Till our stray'd heifer shall return from grazing
To her old stable.—What now shall I do?—
The captain gave me charge of her, and now
If I impeach her, I'm undone;—again,
If I am silent, and 'tis blaz'd abroad,
I then too am undone.—What can be more
Abandon'd, more audacious, than a woman?
The while I was upon the tiles, this hussy
Stole out o'doors.—A most audacious act!
And should the captain know it, on my troth
He'd pull the house down,—tuck me up directly.—
No, no, I'll hold my tongue, rather than end
My days so scurvily.—I cannot guard
One that will sell herself.

SCENE VI.

Enter PALÆSTRIO.
Sceledrus! Hoa!

Sce.
Who is't that calls so menacing and loud?

Pal.
Lives there a falser knave, or any born
Under a planet more unlucky?

Sce.
Why?

Pal.
Prithee dig out those eyes, with which you see
What never was.

Sce.
What never was?

Pal.
I wouldn't
Give ev'n a rotten nut now for your life.

Sce.
Why, what's the matter?

Pal.
Ask you, what's the matter?

Sce.
Why not?

Pal.
Prithee cut out that tongue of thine,
Which prates so freely and at large.

Sce.
For why?

Pal.
Lo! she's at home, whom you affirm'd you saw
Next door embracing of another spark.

Sce.
I marvel you should chuse to feed on darnel,
When corn's so cheap

Pal.
What do you mean?

Sce.
Because
You are dim-sighted.

Pal.
Out, you rascal! you
Are not indeed dim-sighted, but stark blind:
For she's at home, I tell you.

Sce.
How! at home?

Pal.
She's most assuredly at home.

Sce.
Go, go,
You make an handle of me for your sport.

Pal.
So,—then my hands are dirty.

Sce.
Why?

Pal.
Because
I've handled such a dirty thing.

Sce.
A mischief
Light on your head!

Pal.
It will on your's, I promise you,
If you don't change your language, and your eyes.
But our door creaks.

Sce.
I watch it narrowly:
For she can pass no way but by the fore door.

Pal.
I tell you, she's at home.—I know not what
Strange fancies you're possess'd with.

Sce.
For myself
I see, and for myself I think, myself
I have most faith in; nor shall any one
Persuade me, that she is not in this house.
(Pointing to Periplectomenes's house.)
Here then I'll plant me, that she may'nt steal out
Without my knowledge.

Pal.
(Aside)
Oh,—the man's my own:—
I'll drive him from his strong hold. (To Sce.)
Shall I make you
Own you are simple-sighted?

Sce.
Do.

Pal.
And that
You neither think, nor see aright?

Sce.
I'd have you.

Pal.
Do you not say the lady's here?

Sce.
I'll swear
I saw her here, caressing of another.

Pal.
Do you not know, there's no communication
Betwixt our house and this?

Sce.
I know it.

Pal.
Neither
Terrace, nor garden,—nothing but the sky-light.

Sce.
I know it well.

Pal.
Then, if she be at home,
And she come out before your eyes, you'll own
An hearty drubbing is your due.

Sce.
My due.

Pal.
Guard well that door then, lest she privily
Steal forth, and pass to us.

Sce.
'Tis my intent
To do so.

Pal.
I will set her here before you.

Sce.
Pray do.

[Palæstrio goes in.

SCENE VII.

SCELEDRUS
alone.
I would fain know, if I have seen
What I have seen, or whether he can prove,
That she's at home.—I've eyes sure of my own,
And need not borrow others.—But this rogue,—
He pays his court to her; he's ever near her;
He's call'd to meals first, serv'd first with his mess.—
'Tis now three years or thereabouts, since he
Has liv'd with us, and no one of the family
Fares better than his knaveship.—I must mind
What I'm about though:—I must watch this door.—
Then here I'll plant myself.—No, no,—I warrant you,
They'll ne'er impose on me.

SCENE VIII.

Enter PALÆSTRIO and PHILOCOMASIUM.
PALÆSTRIO
to PHILOCOMASIUM, entering.
Be sure, that you
Remember my instructions.

Phil.
It is strange,
You should so oft remind me.

Pal.
But I fear
You are not read enough in cunning.

Phil.
Prithee
I could school those, who are themselves proficients.
I have known women, famous for their arts;
But I alone surpass them.

Pal.
Come then—Now,
Now put your tricks in force.—I'll get me from you.
(To Sce.)
Sceledrus!—Why d'ye stand thus?

Sce.
I'm about
My business:—I have ears;—speak, what's your pleasure?

Pal.
You'll shortly march, I fancy, in this posture
Without the Metian gate, bearing along
A gibbet with your hands spread out thus.

Sce.
Why?

Pal.
Look there,—upon your left.—Who is that woman?

Sce.
Immortal Gods! 'tis she,—our master's lady!

Pal.
And so I think indeed.—Do, prithee now—

Sce.
Do what?—

Pal.
Go, hang yourself this instant.

Phil.
(Advancing.)
Where
Is this good servant, who accus'd me wrongfully
Of indiscretion, me who am most innocent?

Pal.
See! there he is.—He told me.—

Sce.
I did tell you.

Phil.
Villain!—who was it, that you said you saw me
Embracing at next door?

Pal.
A stranger spark,
He said.

Sce.
I said so verily.

Phil.
You saw me?

Sce.
Yes, with these eyes.

Phil.
Those eyes you'll lose, I fancy,
Which see more than they see.

Sce.
By heav'n I never
Can be convinc'd, but what I saw I saw.

Phil.
I am a fool, have too much lack of wit,
To parley with this madman,—whom I'll punish.

Sce.
Pray spare your threats.—I know the gallows waits me,
A sepulchre where all my ancestors
Have gone before me,—father, grandfather,
Great grand-father, and great great grandfather.—
Yet all your menaces can't dig my eyes out.—
A word with you, Palæstrio.—Prithee now
Whence came she hither?

Pal.
Whence but from our house?

Sce.
Our house?

Pal.
And in your sight too.

Sce.
True, I saw her.
(Aside.)
Tis strange, how she got in; for verily
Our house has neither terrace, garden, no
Nor window, but is grated.— (To Phil.)
I am sure
I saw you at next door.

Pal.
What! still persist,
You rascal! to accuse her?

Phil.
In good sooth
The dream I dreamt last night now turns out true.

Pal.
What did you dream?

Phil.
I'll tell you: but I pray you,
Lend me your serious ear.—Last night methought
I saw my sister, my twin-sister, who
Was come from Athens here to Ephesus
With a young spark, and that they lodg'd next door.

Sce.
The dream she's telling is Palæstrio's.

Pal.
On pray.

Phil.
Methought it joy'd me much my sister's coming,
But I lay under a most strong suspicion
On her account: for, as it seem'd, the slave
Appointed me, as is the case ev'n now,
Accused me of caressing a strange spark,
When 'twas my sister fondling with her lover.—
Thus did I dream, myself was falsely censured.

Pal.
The like befalls you waking, which you say
Your sleep presented.—See, how all things tally!
Go in now, and address the Gods.—I think,
You should acquaint the captain with this matter.

Phil.
I am resolv'd to do it:—I'll not suffer
My honour wrongfully to be impeach'd,
And let the insult pass unpunished.

(Goes into the Captain's house.

SCENE IX.

SCELEDRUS, PALÆSTRIO.
SCELEDRUS.
I tremble for the consequence,—my back
Does tingle so all over!

Pal.
Know you not,
That you're undone?—She's now at home for certain.

Sce.
Where'er she be, I'll watch our door for certain.

(Places himself before the Captain's door.)
Pal.
But pray, what think you of this dream she dreamt?
How like it was to what has past,—as how
You should suspect, you saw her with a lover?

Sce.
And do you think, I did not see her?

Pal.
Prithee
Repent thee.—Should this reach our master's ear,
You are undone for ever!

Sce.
I am now
At length convinc'd, that I have had a mist
Before my eyes.

Pal.
That long ago was plain:
For she has been at home here all the while.

Sce.
I know not what to say: I did not see her,
Though I did see her.

Pal.
Verily by your folly
You've near undone us: wishing to appear
True to your master, you have near been ruin'd.—
But heark—I hear a noise at the next door.—
I'll say no more.

SCENE X.

Enter PHILOCOMASIUM, from Periplectomenes's House.
(To a servant within.)
Put fire upon the altar,
That, when my bathing's ended, I may pour
My thanks and praises to Ephesian Dian,
With fragrant incense of Arabian sweets:
For she has sav'd me in the watry realms
Of Neptune, in his boisterous temples, where
With unrelenting billows I was tost,
And sore dismay'd.

Sce.
(Discovering her.)
Palæstrio, O Palæstrio!

Pal.
Sceledrus, O Sceledrus!—Well,—what would you?

Sce.
That lady,—see there,—who came out from hence
This instant,—say, is she Philocomasium?
Or is she not?

Pal.
Truly I think it her.—
But it is strange, how she could get there,—if
Indeed she be the same.

Sce.
And do you doubt,
If it be she?

Pal.
'Tis like her.—Let's approach,
And speak to her.

Sce.
Philocomasium!—hoa!—
How's this?—What business have you in that house?
Why are you silent? 'Tis to you I speak.

Pal.
Nay verily you speak but to yourself;
For nothing does she answer.

Sce.
Shameless woman!
To you I speak,—you, that thus roam about
Among the neighbours!

Phil.
Whom d'ye speak to?

Sce.
Whom,
But to yourself?

Phil.
Who are you? and what business
Have you with me?

Sce.
Hey!—Ask you, who I am?

Phil.
And why not ask you, what I do not know?

Pal.
Pray who am I then, if you know not him?

Phil.
A very troublesome, whoe'er you are,—
Both you and he.

Sce.
What! don't you know us then?

Phil.
No,—neither.

Sce.
I do greatly fear—

Pal.
What fear you?

Sce.
That we have lost ourselves somewhere or other;
For she knows neither you, she says, nor me.

Pal.
Let us examine, if we are ourselves,
Or else some other:—may be, they have chang'd us
Without our knowledge.

Sce.
Surely I am I.

Pal.
And so am I. (To Phil.)
—Lady, you seek your ruin.—
Philocomasium! hoa!—to you I speak.

Phil.
What madness does possess you thus to call me
By a strange name?

Pal.
Oh ho! how are you call'd then?

Phil.
My name is Glycere.

Pal.
Fye now, this is wrong.—
You'd go by a false name.—'Tis not becoming,
And truly you do wrong my master by it.

Phil.
I?

Pal.
You.

Phil.
I came but yesterday to Ephesus
From Athens, with my young Athenian lover.

Pal.
Tell me, what business have you here at Ephesus?

Phil.
I heard, that my twin-sister sojourn'd here,
And came to seek her.

Pal.
O thou art a sad one!

Phil.
I am a fool to hold discourse with you.—
I'll go.

Sce.
(Laying hold of her.)
But I'll not let you.

Phil.
Loose me.

Sce.
No,—
'Tis plain!—I will not quit you.

Phil.
But I'll make
Your cheeks ring, if you don't let go.

Sce.
Palæstrio?—
Plague:—why do you stand still?—why don't you hold her
On t'other side?

Pal.
I do not chuse to bring
A business on my back.—How do I know,
Whether she be Philocomasium, or
Some other, that is like her?

Phil.
Will you loose me,
Or will you not?

Sce.
No,—I will drag you home
By force, against your will, except you'll gently
Go of your own accord.

Phil.
(Pointing to Periplectomenes's house.)
My lodging's here,—
This door.—At Athens I've an home, and patron.—
Your home I reck not; neither do I know,
What men ye are.

Sce.
Seek your redress by law.—
I'll never loose you, till you give your word,
That, if I do so, you will go in here. (To the Captain's)


Phil.
Me you by force compel, whoe'er you are.—
I promise, if you loose me, I will go
In there, where you command.

Sce.
Then,—I do loose you.

Phil.
And I, as I am free, will go in here.

(Runs into Periplectomenes's house.)

SCENE XI.

SCELEDRUS, PALÆSTRIO.
Sce.
Fool that I was, to trust a woman's honour!

Pal.
So,—you have let the prey slip through your hands,
Sceledrus!

Sce.
It is her, as sure as can be,—
My master's lady.

Pal.
Will you act with spirit?

Sce.
Act what?

Pal.
Bring me a cutlass.

Sce.
What to do?

Pal.
I'll break into the house, and whomsoe'er
I see caressing of Philocomasium,
I'll kill him on the spot.

Sce.
And do you think,
'Twas her?

Pal.
Oh, plainly her.

Sce.
But how the jade
Dissembled!

Pal.
Go, and bring a cutlass hither.

Sce.
It shall be here directly.

[Sceledrus goes in.

SCENE XII.

PALÆSTRIO
alone.
Not a soldier,
Of horse or foot, can prove himself so bold,
As can a woman.—How she topt her part
In both her characters! how charmingly
She gull'd my fellow-servant, her wise keeper!
That opening thro' her chamber-wall, how happy!

SCENE XIII.

Enter SCELEDRUS.
Palæstrio!—We have no need of the cutlass.

Pal.
What then?

Sce.
Our master's lady is at home.

Pal.
How? What! at home?

Sce.
She's lying in her bed.

Pal.
You've brought yourself into an ugly scrape.—

Sce.
Why?

Pal.
That you've dar'd to touch this neighbour-lady.

Sce.
I fear it much.—Now no one shall convince me,
But that it must be her twin-sister.

Pal.
True,—
'Twas her you saw caressing.—It is plain,—
It must be her,—e'en as you say.

Sce.
How near
To ruin was I, had I told my master!

Pal.
Then, if you're wise, henceforth you'll hold your tongue.—
A servant ought to know more than he speaks.—
I'll leave you to your thoughts alone;—I'll now
Unto our neighbour's.—I don't like these turmoils:
My master if he comes, and asks for me,
I will be here directly.—Call me hence.

(Goes into Periplectomenes's house.

SCENE XIV.

SCELEDRUS
alone.
So—Is he gone?—A pretty fellow this!—
He cares not for his master's business more
Than if he weren't his servant!—I am sure,
Our lady is within here; for I found her
At home, and in her bed, this very instant.
But I'm resolv'd to be upon the watch.

(Places himself before the Captain's door.

SCENE XV.

Enter PERIPLECTOMENES.
Why sure these fellows here, these varlet-knaves,
These servants of our neighbour captain,—What?
They take me for a woman, not a man;
To make me thus their pastime! in the street
T'assault and use such freedoms with my lodger,
(Who with her lover is from Athens come,)
A modest, and a gentle.—

Sce.
I am ruin'd;
He bears down strait upon me. I'm afraid,
This same affair will bring me to great trouble,
As much as I have heard this old man talk.

Per.
I'll up to him.—Sceledrus! was it you,
A rascal as you are, that dar'd affront
My lodger here just now before my door?

Sce.
Good neighbour, I beseech you, hear.

Per.
I hear you?

Sce.
I would fain clear me.

Per.
How! you clear you? You,
Who've put such gross indignities upon me?—
Because ye serve a soldier, do ye think,
That ye may do whate'er ye list?—You rascal!

Sce.
May I—

Per.
But let the Gods ne'er prosper me,
If I don't have you punish'd with a whipping,
A long and lasting one, from morn to even:
First, that you broke my gutters and my tiles,
In seeking for a monkey like yourself;
Next, that you peep'd down thence into my house,
And saw my lodger fondling with his mistress;
Then, that you dar'd accuse your master's lady,
(A modest,) of incontinence, and me
Of a most heinous action; further, that
You dar'd assault my lodger at my door.
And if you are not punish'd with due stripes,
Your master I will load so with disgrace,
He shall be fuller of it than the sea
Of billows in a storm.

Sce.
Periplectomenes,
I'm driven to such a strait, I know not whether
'Twere fitter to dispute this matter with you,
Or clear myself before you: for if she
Be not the lady, then our lady is not;
Nor do I even know now what I've seen;
So very like your lady is to our's,
If not the same.

Per.
Go to my house, and see;
You soon will know.

Sce.
Will you permit me?

Per.
Nay,
I do command:—examine at your leisure.

Sce.
And so I will.

(Sceledrus goes into Periplectomenes's house.

SCENE XVI.

PERIPLECTOMENES
calling through the Window.
Philocomasium, hoa,
Pass with what speed you can into our house;
The affair is pressing: after, when Sceledrus
Shall have come out, return you with like speed
To your own house.—I fear, lest she mistake.
Should he not see her here, our trick's discover'd.

SCENE XVII.

SCELEDRUS
entering.
O heav'ns! one woman sure more like another,
And, if the same she be not, more the same
I do not think the Gods can make.

Per.
What now?

Sce.
I merit chastisement.

Per.
So—Is it her?

Sce.
Though it be her, it is not.

Per.
Have you seen her?

Sce.
I saw her, fondling with the youth your guest.

Per.
And is it her?

Sce.
I know not.

Per.
Would you know
For certain?

Sce.
I could wish it.

Per.
Go you in
This instant to your own house, and see whether
Your lady be within.

Sce.
I'll do so: rightly
You have advised me: I'll return forthwith.

(He goes into the Captain's house.
Per.
I never saw a man so sweetly fool'd,
And by such rare devices.—But he's coming.

SCENE XVIII.

Enter SCELEDRUS.
Periplectomenes! by Gods and men
I do beseech you, by my own folly,
By these your knees—

Per.
What is it, you'd beseech me?

Sce.
Pardon my ignorance, my folly pardon,
Since now at length I know I am half-witted,
Blind, and unthinking; for Philocomasium,
Behold! she is at home.

Per.
Why, how now, hang-dog?
Hast seen them both?

Sce.
I've seen them.

Per.
Prithee send
Your master to me.

Sce.
I indeed confess,
That I have deserv'd most ample chastisement,
And done an injury to your fair lodger:
But I believ'd she was my master's lady,
Of whom I had the charge; for never can there
From the same well be drawn one drop of water
More like another, than our lady is
To this your lodger:—And I do confess too,
I look'd into your house down through the sky-light.

Per.
Confess indeed! what I myself did see.

Sce.
I fancy'd, that I saw Philocomasium.

Per.
And do you rate me at so small a price
Of all mankind, to think that wittingly
I e'er could suffer such an injury,
So glaring, in my house, and to my neighbour?

Sce.
Now do I judge at last, that I have done
Most foolishly, since now I know the truth:—
Yet with no ill intent.

Per.
'Twas wrongly done.
A servant should restrain his eyes, and hands,
And speech too.

Sce.
—I?—If I but mutter ought
From this day forward, ev'n of what I know
Myself for certain, put me to the torture,
I'll give me up to you. Now I beseech you
To pardon me this once.—

Per.
I shall persuade me,
'Twas with no ill intent: I pardon you.

Sce.
May the Gods prosper you!

Per.
And verily,
If you would have them prosper you, your tongue
Henceforward you'll restrain: what you shall know,
You'll know not, and not see, what you shall see.

Sce.
You counsel me aright: I am resolv'd
To do so.—But I hope, you are appeas'd.
Would you ought else?

Per.
That you would know me not.

Sce.
(Aside)
He has cajol'd me.—How benignly he
Vouchsafed his grace no longer to be angry!
I know what he's about:—he means, the captain
Should catch me here at home, when he returns
(As shortly I expect him) from the Forum.—
He and Palæstrio together hold me
At their disposal:—but I've found it out,
And some time have I known it.—Verily
They shall not catch me nibbling at their bait:
I'll now take to my heels, and for some days
I'll hide me somewhere, till the storm is hush'd,
And their resentment soften'd.—I have merited
Enough, and more of chastisement.—But yet,—
Whate'er befall me,—I will e'en go home.

[Exit.

SCENE XIX.

PERIPLECTOMENES
alone.
So,—he is gone then.—Well—the proof, they say,
Is in the eating.—That he should be wrought on,
To think he has not seen what he has seen!
For now his eyes, his ears, his very thoughts
Have, as it were, deserted, and come o'er
To us.—So—hitherto we've managed rarely:—
The lady play'd her part most charmingly.—
I'll back unto our senate; for Palæstrio
Is in my house; Sceledrus,—he's away.—
Now we may hold a full and frequent senate:
I'll in then, lest they fine me for my absence.

[Goes in.