University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter STROBILUS, with the Pot of Money.
The Griffins, dwelling on the golden mountains,
Are not so rich as I.—Of other kings
I speak not, beggarly, poor, abject fellows,—
I am king Philip's self.—Fine day for me!
Parting from hence, I got there long before him,
Climb'd up a tree, and waited to observe
Where the old fellow would conceal his treasure.
When he was gone, down slid I from the tree,
And dug this Pot up full of gold:—I then
Saw him come back to the same place again;
But me he saw not, for I turn'd a little
Out of his way.—Ah! here he is himself.
I'll go, and lay this Pot up safe at home.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter EUCLIO.
I'm dead! kill'd! murder'd!—Whither shall I run?
Whither not run?—Stop thief! stop thief!—Who? what?
I know not,—I see nothing,—I walk blind,—
I cannot tell for certain where I'm going,
Or where I am, or who I am.
(To the Spectators.)
Good people,
I pray you, I implore you, I beseech you,
Lend me your help,—shew me the man that took it.
See! in the garb of innocent white they skulk,
And sit as they were honest.—
(To one of the Spectators)
What say You?—
I will believe You:—You're an honest fellow,—
I read it in your countenance.—How's this?—
What do you laugh at?—O, I know you all;
I know, that there are many thieves among you.—
Hey!—none of you have got it?—I am slain!—
Tell me, who has it then?—You do not know!
Ah me! ah woe is me! I'm lost! I'm ruin'd!
Wholly undone! in a most vile condition!
Such grief, such groaning, has this day brought on me,
Hunger and poverty!—I am a wretch,
The vilest wretch on earth!—Oh, what have I
To do with life, depriv'd of such a treasure?
A treasure, that I kept so carefully,
And robb'd myself of comfort!—Others now
Rejoice through my mishap, and make them merry
At my expence.—Oh! Oh! I cannot bear it.

(Runs about crying, stamping, &c.

SCENE III.

LYCONIDES
entering.
Who can this be, that moans so bitterly
Before our house?—Ha! it is Euclio sure:
'Tis he, I think.—I'm ruin'd,—all's discover'd.
He is acquainted with his daughter's labour.—
What shall I do?—I'm all uncertainty.—
Were't best to go or stay?—Shall I accost him,
Or shun his sight?—I know not what to do.

Eucl.
Who's that, that speaks there?

Lyc.
I, Sir.

Eucl.
I, Sir, am
A wretch, a ruin'd wretch, such dread calamity,
Such sorrow has befallen me.

Lyc.
Take courage.—

Eucl.
Prithee how can I?

Lyc.
Since the deed, that now
Troubles your mind, I did,—and I confess it.

Eucl.
What do I hear you say?

Lyc.
The truth.

Eucl.
Young man,
In what have I deserv'd such usage from you,
That you should treat me thus, and go the way
To ruin me and my poor child?

Lyc.
A God
Was my enticer; he allur'd me.

Eucl.
How!

Lyc.
I own my crime, I know I am to blame,
And therefore come I to implore your pardon.

Eucl.
How durst you to lay violent hands on that
You had no right to touch?

Lyc.
'Tis past.—What's done
Cannot be undone.—I believe, the Gods
Would have it so: if not, it had not been.

Eucl.
I believe, the Gods would have me hang myself
Before your face.

Lyc.
Ah! say not so.

Eucl.
But why
Would you lay hands, I pray, on what was mine
Against my inclination?

Eucl.
Love and wine
Did prompt me.

Eucl.
What consummate impudence!
How dare you come to me with such a speech?
If this is right, if this excuse will hold,
Why we may strip a lady of her jewels
In open day-light,—then, if we are taken,
Plead in excuse forsooth, that love and wine
Led us to do it.—Oh, this love and wine
Is of great value, if it can impower
The lover and the drunkard to indulge
In whatsoever likes him with impunity.

Lyc.
I come to beg you to forgive my folly.

Eucl.
I relish not these fellows, who commit
A misdemeanor, and then dare defend it.
You knew you had no right; not being your's,
You should have kept hands off.

Lyc.
But as I dar'd
Make the attempt, I shall have no objection
To have and hold.

Eucl.
To have and hold what's mine,
At my disposal?—and against my will?

Lyc.
Against your will I ask not;—but I think,
It is my right, and you yourself will find
I have a just claim.

Eucl.
If you don't return me—

Lyc.
Return you what?

Eucl.
What you have stol'n of mine,
I'll have you 'fore the Prætor, and commence
A suit against you.

Lyc.
Stol'n of your's? how? where?
What is't you mean?

Eucl.
As if you did not know!

Lyc.
Not I, except you tell me what it is.

Eucl.
The pot of gold, I say, which you confess'd
You stole,—restore it to me.

Lyc.
I ne'er said
A syllable about it, nor have taken it.

Eucl.
Will you deny it?

Lyc.
Yes, deny it wholly:
Nor do I know what gold, what pot you mean.

Eucl.
That which you stole out of Sylvanus' grove.
Come, give it me:—I'll rather halve it with you.
Though you have robb'd me, I'll not trouble you:
Come then, restore it to me.

Lyc.
Are you mad,
To call me thief?—I thought that you had got
Scent of another matter, that concerns me:
'Tis of importance, and if leisure serves,
I should be glad to talk with you upon it.

Eucl.
Tell me, upon your faith: you have not stol'n
This gold?

Lyc.
Upon my faith.

Eucl.
Nor do you know
Who took it?

Lyc.
No, upon my faith.

Eucl.
And if
You should discover him, you'll reveal him to me?

Lyc.
I'll do't.

Eucl.
Nor will you take, whoe'er he be,
A portion of the spoil, to hide the thief?

Lyc.
I will not.

Eucl.
What if you deceive me?

Lyc.
Then
May Jupiter do with me what he will!

Eucl.
I'm satisfy'd.—Now tell me, what's your pleasure?

Lyc.
If you're a stranger to my birth and family,
Know, Megadorus yonder is my uncle,
My father was Antimachus, my name
Lyconides, Eunomia is my mother.

Eucl.
I know your family.—Then what's your business?
I should be glad to learn.

Lyc.
You have a daughter.

Eucl.
I have; she is within.

Lyc.
If I mistake not,
You have betroth'd her to my uncle.

Eucl.
Right.
You know the whole.

Lyc.
He has commanded me
To bring you his refusal.

Eucl.
How?—refusal,—
When ev'ry thing is ready for the wedding?
May all the Gods confound him! for through him,
Wretch that I am! I've lost so great a treasure.

Lyc.
Be comforted: don't curse: but let us hope,
That this affair will turn out happily
To you and to your daughter.—Say, Heav'n grant
It may!

Eucl.
Heav'n grant it may!

Lyc.
And to me too.—
Now give me your attention. Never was there
A man so worthless, that had done a fault,
But was asham'd, and sought to clear himself.
I do conjure you, Euclio, to forgive me,
If all unwittingly I have offended
You and your daughter: give her me to wife,
According to the laws: for I confess,
That on the night of Ceres' festival,
Heated with liquor, and impell'd by youth,
I injur'd her fair honour.

Eucl.
Out alas!
What do I hear? O monstrous villainy!

Lyc.
Why do you howl thus? It is true, I've made you
A grandsire on your daughter's wedding-day:
She's brought to-bed, ten months are past, pray reckon.
On this account my uncle Megadorus
Sent a refusal. But go in, enquire
If 'tis not as I say.

Eucl.
Undone for ever!
So many evils are combin'd to plague me.
I'll in, and know the truth.

Lyc.
I'll follow you.

[Euclio goes in.

SCENE IV.

LYCONIDES
alone.
So, ev'ry thing is safe, as it should seem.—
But where is Strobilus? I can find him nowhere.
Where can he be?—I'll wait a while here; then
I'll after the old fellow: in the interim
I will allow him time to make enquiry
Of the old maid, his daughter's nurse; she knows
The whole affair.

SCENE V.

Enter STROBILUS.
Strob.
O ye immortal Gods!
What joys, what transports have you heap'd upon me!
To have a pot of gold in my possession,
Of four pounds weight!—Who is so rich as I?
Was ever man so favour'd of the Gods?

Lyc.
Surely I hear a voice.

Strob.
(discovering Lyconides)
Ha! don't I see
Lyconides my master?

Lyc.
Don't I see
My servant Strobilus?

Strob.
'Tis he.

Lyc.
No other.

Strob.
I will accost him.

Lyc.
Best to mend my pace.
I fancy, he has been with the old woman,
My Phædria's nurse, as I commanded him.

Strob.
What if I tell him I have found this booty,
And ask my liberty—I'll up, and speak to him.
(Advancing)
Sir!—I have found—

Lyc.
What have you found?

Strob.
Not that
Which boys in play hunt after in a bean,
And if they chance to find, cry out for joy.

Lyc.
What, at your trick of joking, sirrah?

Strob.
Hold,
I'll tell you, do but hear me.

Lyc.
Well then, speak.

Strob.
I have found riches in abundance.

Lyc.
Where?

Strob.
A pot brimful of gold, of four pound weight.

Lyc.
(with emotion)
What's that you say?

Strob.
I stole it from old Euclio.

Lyc.
Where is the gold?

Strob.
At home, sir, in a chest.—
I should be glad you'd give me now my freedom.

Lyc.
Give you your freedom? worst of rogues!

Strob.
Go, go,
I know your meaning;—I was only trying you.—
How you snapt at it! what would you have done,
If I indeed had found it?

Lyc.
This evasion
Shall not avail you.—Give me up the gold.

Strob.
Give up the gold?

Lyc.
Come, give it me, I say,
That I may render it to the right owner.

Strob.
Where should I have it?

Lyc.
You confess'd just now,
You had it in a chest.

Strob.
Oh, I am us'd
To talk thus jokingly.

Lyc.
(threatening)
But know you what?

Strob.
Nay, kill me, if you please, you'll never get it.

Lyc.
How, rascal!—I shall find a way.

Strob.
You cannot.—
Tie me up neck and heels; break ev'ry limb;
Load me with chains, and ram me in a dungeon;
Let thongs and elm-rods be my only food;
You will not get the gold.—There is a way,—

Lyc.
Speak, what way?

Strob.
Set me free: one stroke will do it.

Lyc.
Tho' you deserve a thousand, I consent
For my dear Phædria's sake. Go, bring the pot here,
And I'll reward you with your liberty.

[Exit Strobilus.

SCENE VI.

LYCONIDES
alone.
What shall I do now? With the loss of this
Already he's distracted, and I fear me,
Now that he knows his daughter was dishonour'd,
He will suspect me partner in the plot
To rob him of his gold, and think I meant
To dig out for myself, against his will,
A portion with his daughter.—Here comes Strobilus.

SCENE VII.

Enter STROBILUS.
Strob.
Come, come along, thou muckworm.

Lyc.
Whom d'ye speak to?

Strob.
Euclio.

Lyc.
He's no where here, nor any other.

Strob.
Nay, but he is.

Lyc.
(looking about)
I see him not.—Where is he?

Strob.
He's here.

Lyc.
Here? where?

Strob.
I've hold of him; he's here.
(Pointing to the Pot)
All that he has of life and soul, is here,—
Lodg'd in this Pot;—the rest is but his shadow,
This is his substance; his heart's blood, his vitals;
'Tis Euclio altogether.

Lyc.
Peace, you rascal;
Give me the Pot.

Strob.
Suppose you sacrifice him
Upon his daughter's wedding-day.—

Lyc.
No trifling.—

Strob.
You will at least invite me to a share,
I hope, Sir, of the entrails.

Lyc.
Give it me,
I say, this very instant; or I'll make
A sacrifice of you.

Strob.
You'll give me then
My freedom, as you promis'd?

Lyc.
Never doubt me.

Strob.
Here—take it.

(Giving the Pot.
Lyc.
I'll restore it to old Euclio,
Who will adore me as his Joy, his Pleasure,
His Jove Protector, his supreme Salvation.—
I'll call him.—Euclio!—Hoa!—Come forth here.—Euclio!

Eucl.
(within)
Who calls a wretch like me?

Strob.
Your Joy, your Pleasure,
Your Jove Protector, your supreme Salvation.

Lyc.
I bring you tidings of your treasure, Euclio.

SCENE VIII.

Enter EUCLIO.
Eucl.
Where is he?—have you found him?—where's the thief?
Where is my gold?—Speak, is it safe?

Lyc.
How is she?
Tell me, how fares my Phædria?

Eucl.
Is it whole?
Is it in nought diminish'd?

Lyc.
Has she bath'd?
Is she refresh'd?

Eucl.
I'm talking of my gold.

Lyc.
I'm talking of your daughter.

Eucl.
I've no daughter,
No child, no family, except my gold,—
I've no relationship.

Strob.
Before he lost them,
He had a numerous offspring.

Lyc.
How d'ye mean?

Strob.
Of yellow boys.

Lyc.
(to Eucl.)
Lend me your serious ear.
What if I find the thief, who stole your treasure,
And force him to make restitution?

Strob.
Hold, Sir;
Let me impose conditions.

Lyc.
Speak, what are they?

Eucl.
I will consent to any thing, to have
My gold again.

Strob.
First you shall give—

Eucl.
Give! what?
(Aside)
I smell him, I perceive what he's about:
He means to share it with me.

Strob.
You shall give
Your daughter to Lyconides in marriage.

Eucl.
With all my heart.

Strob.
And with her—

Eucl.
The old jade,
Her nurse: let him take her too.

Strob.
You shall give
A portion.

Eucl.
How a portion?

Strob.
From the Pot.

Eucl.
I'm dead! I'm slain!—

Strob.
And then, since Megadorus
At his own cost has furnish'd the repast
In honour of the wedding, in your turn
You shall provide a sumptuous entertainment,
Lamb, pork, veal, pullets, hams,—

Eucl.
Have mercy on us!
The very sound's enough to breed a famine.

Strob.
All kinds of fish, cod, salmon, turbot, mackarel—

Eucl.
Would you were choak'd, I say!

Strob.
A ton at least
Of Nardine.

Eucl.
Peace, you rascal!

Strob.
You must hire
A dozen Cooks, as many Musick-Girls.—

Eucl.
A dozen hangmen.

Strob.
Your relations, friends,
Must be invited; the whole city ask'd;—
You shall keep open house, Sir, for a month.

Eucl.
You shall provide my feral supper first.

Strob.
One more condition, and I've done: I'm sure,
'Twill please you.

Eucl.
Speak, what is it?

Strob.
You shall marry.

Eucl.
I'll hang first.

Lyc.
Prithee now what kind of step-mother
Would you provide me?

Strob.
A staid, prudent dame,
No mettlesome young flirt, but past the age
Of having children; no cost to be dreaded
On that account;—one that will live on little,
And be a frugal house-wife;—with a portion,—

Eucl.
A portion?

Strob.
Yes, an ample one.

Eucl.
How much?

Strob.
As much as all the gold that's in the Pot.

Eucl.
(Aside)
That's something.—
(To Strob.)
Old, you say?

Strob.
Just ripe for Acheron.

Eucl.
(Aside)
That's well.—
(To Strob.)
Will live on little?

Strob.
Oh, on nothing
But whey and butter-milk.

Eucl.
Her portion—

Strob.
Paid
Upon the nail.

Eucl.
(Aside)
That's good.

Lyc.
(Aside)
I marvel much
What he can mean.

Eucl.
Agreed:—I'll take her.—Speak,
Who is she?

Strob.
Staphila.

Eucl.
Confound you!—She
A portion?

Strob.
Yes.

Eucl.
Who'll give it?

Strob.
I.

Eucl.
What you?

Strob.
Yes, I.

Eucl.
Whence can you have it?

Strob.
From my own
Peculiar stock.

Eucl.
What mean you?

Strob.
From the Pot.

Eucl.
Away,—begone.—They fool me to distraction!—
I'll to the Prætor;—if there's any law,
Or right, I'll have him hang'd,—I'll hang you all,—
Hang all the world,—and then—I'll hang myself.

[Running off.
Lyconides
(Shewing the Pot.)
Turn, Euclio, turn, and see your treasure here.

Euclio.
(Turning.)
O give it me! let me once more embrace it!
Villain, wilt hold it from me?

Lyc.
No, 'tis your's;
And in return you'll give your daughter to me.

Eucl.
Ay, any thing.—I'll give an arm, a leg,
Rather than lose my gold.

Lyc.
You do betroth
Your daughter then?

Eucl.
I do. Heav'n prosper it!

Lyc.
I say, Heav'n prosper it!

Strob.
Suppose you took
The kernel, and gave him the shell: 'tis all
He has occasion for.

Lyc.
(Giving Euclio the Pot)
Here is your treasure
Whole, undiminish'd.

Eucl.
(Embracing it.)
O my life! my soul!
My joy! my all!—Nothing shall part us more.

Strob.
He talks of it, as tho' it were his mistress!
Yet he's afraid to touch her.

Eucl.
O my gold!
Where shall I carry thee? where hide thee?—Never
Will I lose sight of thee again:—day, night,
I'll have thee near me:—I'll not eat, nor drink,
Nor take my rest without thee:—while one eye
Is clos'd in sleep, the other shall keep watch.
Rather than lose thee, I will dig a pit,
And bury in't thee and myself together.
[Exit Euclio.

SCENE IX.

STROBILUS
and LYCONIDES.
The wretch! I wish I could devise some means
To plague him more and more.

Lyc.
Impossible.—
Not Tantalus, amidst the refluent flood,
Suffers such keen and cruel punishment:
No tortures of the damn'd can equal what
The Miser feels: Himself is his own Hell.

Strob.
Now, Sir, my freedom, as you promis'd me.

Lyconides.
(Striking him.)
There,—take it.—Go, and call Eunomia hither,
And Megadorus, to the sacrifice.—
I'll in.—Spectators, do not imitate
The old man's nature: grudge not your applause:
Be liberal, and freely clap your hands.