University of Virginia Library

THE SUPPLEMENT OF ANTONIUS CODRUS URCEUS.

STROBILUS and LYCONIDES.
STROBILUS.
Nay, kill me, if you please, you'll never get
From me the old man's pot of four pounds weight,
Which I have not.

Lyc.
I warrant you, I get it,
Whether you will or no, when neck and heels
I have you tuck'd up to a beam.—But why
Do I not rush upon the rascal's jaws,
And force his breath out by the backward way?
Say, will you give it me or no?

Strob.
I will.

Lyc.
You will?—But give it now, not sometime hence.

Strob.
I'll give it you this instant;—but I pray you,
Let me recover breath.—Ah! ah! good master,
What would you have me give?

Lyc.
You know not, rascal?
And you will dare deny the pot of gold
Of four pounds weight, which you confess'd just now,
That you had stolen?—Hoa! where are my Slaves?

Strob.
Hear me awhile.

Lyc.
I will not hear.—Hoa, Slaves!

SCENE VI.

Enter SLAVES.

What would you?

Lyc.
Bring some fetters.

Strob.
I beseech you,
Hear me, and then command me to be bound
Ev'n at your pleasure.

Lyc.
Well,—I hear you, speak,
But make dispatch.

Strob.
What if you order them
To torture me to death, behold the consequence:
You lose a slave, and then you cannot get
What you desire: but had you tempted me
With the reward of precious liberty,
You had obtain'd possession long ago.
By nature we are all born free; by nature
We are all fond of freedom: slavery
Is worse than any ill that can befal us.
Whom Jupiter pursues with his displeasure,
He makes him first a slave.

Lyc.
I own, there's reason
In what you say.

Strob.
Now prithee hear the rest.
The masters of our age are all too niggardly.
I call them Gripe-alls, Harpies, Tantalusses:
Poor are they in the height of affluence,
And thirsty in the middle of the ocean.
No riches can content them, not the wealth
Of Midas, or of Crœsus: all the opulence
Of the whole Persian state combin'd together
Were not enough to glut their hellish avarice.
Masters deal hardly with their servants; these
Requite the wrong by slacking of their duty:
So all things are amiss on either side.
Old niggardly curmudgeons lock up all,
Their pantries, cellars, with a thousand keys,
And bar the entrance even to their children.
The servants on their part, a knavish, sly,
Designing set of fellows, pick the locks,
Steal, pilfer, waste, consume, and ravage all;
Nor, though you torture them a thousand ways,
Can you extort confession of their thefts.
Thus slaves avenge them of their slavery
By tricks and pranks; and this is my conclusion,
That liberality makes faithful servants.

Lyc.
Right, but you've been more tedious than you promis'd.
If I reward you with your liberty,
You'll give me what I want.

Strob.
I will.—But hold,—
I must have witnesses. Pardon me, Sir,
I have but little faith in what you say.

Lyc.
E'en at your pleasure; you may call an hundred,
With all my heart.

Strob.
Eunomia, Megadorus,
Let me intreat you,—please you to step hither.
Come forth—and when the business is concluded,
You may return forthwith.

SCENE VII.

Enter MEGADORUS and EUNOMIA.
Meg.
Who calls us?—So,
Lyconides.—

Eun.
So, Strobilus.—What's the matter?
Speak.

Strob.
It is no great matter.

Meg.
But what is it?

Strob.
I call'd you to be witness.—If I bring
A pot here full of gold of four pounds weight,
And give it to Lyconides, Lyconides
Shall make me free, and master of myself.
(To Lyc.)
You promise this?

Lyc.
I promise.
(To Meg. and Eun.)
Have you heard
What he has said?

Meg. and Eun.
We have.

Strob.
(To Lyc.)
But swear by Jupiter.

Lyc.
To what vile streights alas! am I reduc'd?
You are too saucy; yet I will submit
To do what you command.

Strob.
A word with you.—
Our age has little faith or honesty.
A record shall be sign'd, there shall be present
A dozen witnesses, the time and place
Mark'd by a notary; yet there shall be found
A pettifogger to dispute the fact.

Lyc.
Prithee dismiss me strait.

Strob.
Here, take this stone.

Lyc.
(Taking the stone.)
If I deceive you knowingly, may Jupiter
Throw me from all I'm worth, no place of refuge
Left me within the city, as I throw
This stone. (Throwing it from him.)
Are you content?

Strob.
I'm satisfy'd.
I'll fetch the treasure.

Lyc.
Hie thee with the speed
Of Pegasus, and swallow up the way
In hasting back again.
[Strobilus goes off.
'Tis troublesome
To have a servant, that's for ever prating,
And thinks he has more wisdom than his master.
This fellow here of mine, e'en let him go
And hang himself, I care not, with his freedom,
So he but bring me here the pot of gold,
That I may turn old Euclio's grief to joy,
Hoping to call him father, and obtain
His daughter, who is just now brought to bed
In consequence of my embraces.—See!
Here Strobilus comes loaded; as I think,
He brings the Pot, 'tis certainly the Pot.
[Strobilus returns with the Pot.
Lyconides, you see I've kept my promise:
Here is the pot of gold of four pounds weight.
Have I been tardy?

(Giving it him.
Lyc.
No.—Immortal Gods!
What do I see? what have I in possession?
More than six hundred Philippeans, three
And four times told.—Let us call Euclio out
This instant.—Euclio! Euclio!

Meg.
Euclio! Euclio!

Eucl.
(within.)
What is it you would have?

Lyc.
Come down to us.—
The Gods protect you.—We have got the Pot.

Eucl.
Ha! have ye got it? or d'ye only jest?

Lyc.
I say, we have it.—If you can, fly hither.

SCENE VIII.

EUCLIO
enters, and takes the Pot.
O Jupiter, O Houshold God! O Juno!
Ye have at length had pity on a poor,
Old, miserable wretch.—My dear, dear Pot,
With what delight, what transport do I hug you!
How sweet it is to kiss you!—To embrace you
A thousand thousand times, is all too little.
My hope! my heart! the grave of all my sorrow!

Lyc.
'Twas ever my opinion, want of money
Was of all ills the greatest that could happen
To lads, to men, to old men, and to all.
Lads it incites to shameful practices,
Those, that are grown up men, it tempts to thieve,
And old men it compels to beg:—but now
I see it plain, far worse it is to have
Abundance, more than our occasion needs.
Behold! what troubles has this Euclio suffer'd
By reason of the gold which late he lost!

Eucl.
Whom must I pay my thanks to, as most due?
The Gods, who reverence and respect good men?
Or else my honourable friends? or both?
Both rather.
(Giving the Pot to Lyconides.
First then,—you, Lyconides,
The principal, best author of my happiness,
I do present you with this pot of gold;—
Accept it freely;—I would have it yours;—
And with it too my daughter.—Good Eunomia,
And Megadorus, both are witnesses.

Lyc.
Your favour I accept, and pay with thanks,
Good Euclio, as you've merited: I've wish'd,
And long'd to call you father.

Strob.
Now, sweet master,
All that remains is,—you will not forget
To set me free.

Lyc.
Well put in mind.—Be free,
As you deserve.—Go in now, see the supper,
Which has been interrupted, be got ready.

Strob.
Spectators,—this curmudgeon, this old Euclio,
Has chang'd his niggard nature: of a sudden
He's become liberal.—Be You so too;
And, if our play has pleas'd you, loudly clap.