University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter PENICULUS, the Parasite.
Our young men call me dishclout, for this reason,
Whene'er I eat, I wipe the tables clean.
Now in my judgment they act foolishly,
Who bind in chains their captives, and clap fetters
Upon their run-away slaves: for if you heap
Evil on evil to torment the wretch,
The stronger his desire is to escape.—
They'll free them from their chains by any means:
Load them with gyves, they file away the door,
Or knock the bolt out with a stone.—'Tis vain this:
But would you keep a man from 'scaping from you,
Be sure you chain him fast with meat and drink
And tye him by the beak to a full table.
Give him his fill, allow him meat and drink
At pleasure, in abundance, every day;
And I'll be sworn, although his crime be capital,
He will not run away: you'll easily
Secure him, while you bind him with these bonds.
They're wondrous supple these same belly-bonds,
The more you stretch them, they will bind the harder.
For instance, I'm now going to Menæchmus,
Most willingly I'm going to be bound,
According to his sentence past upon me.
Good soul! he's not content with giving us
A bare support and meagre sustenance,
But crams us even to satiety;
Gives us, as 'twere, new life, when dead with hunger.
O he's a rare physician: he's a youth
Of lordly appetite; he treats most daintily,
His table's bravely served; such heaps of dishes,
You must stand on your couch to reach the top.
Yet I've some days been absent from his house;
Homely I've liv'd at home with my dear friends,
For all I eat or buy is dear to me,
Yet they desert the very friends that rais'd them.
Now will I visit him: but the door opens:
And see! Menæchmus' self is coming forth.

SCENE II.

Enter MENÆCHMUS of Epidamnum, with a robe, speaking to his wife within.
Were you not good for nothing, were you not
An ass, a stubborn ideot, what you see
Displeas'd your husband, would displease you too.
From this day forward, if you use me thus,
I'll turn you out of doors, and send you back
A widow to your father: for whenever
I would go forth, you hold me, call me back,
Ask where I'm going, what 'tis I'm about,
And what's my business, what I want abroad.
I've married sure some officer o'th'customs,
I'm so examin'd—what I've done—what do—
Too kindly you've been treated hitherto;
I'll tell you how you shall be—Since I allow you
Maids, jewels, cloaths, wool—Since you want for nothing,
If you were wise, you'd dread the consequence,
And cease to watch your husband. So, that you
May watch me to some purpose, for your pains,
I'll dine abroad now with some trull or other.

Pen.
(aside.)
He means to gall his wife by what he says:
But me he spites; for if he dine abroad,
On me he recks his vengeance, not on her.

Men. Epi.
Victoria! by my tauntings, I at length
Have driven her from the door.—Where, where are all
The intriguing husbands? why do they delay
To bring me gifts, and thank me for my prowess:—
I've stol'n this robe here of my wife's, and mean
To carry it to my mistress.—So we ought
To trick these crafty husband-watching dames:—
'Tis a fair action, this of mine, 'tis right,
'Tis pleasant faith, and admirably carried.
With plague enough, I've ta'en it from one plague
To give it to another.—Thus I've gain'd
A booty from the foe, without our loss.

Pen.
(aloud.)
What portion of the booty's mine, young Sir?

Men. Epi.
Undone! I'm fall'n into an ambuscade.

Pen.
You've lighted on a safe-guard: never fear.

Men. Epi.
Who's that?

Pen.
'Tis I.

Men. Epi.
O my most welcome friend,
Save you.

Pen.
And you.

Men. Epi.
How fares it?

Pen.
Let me take
My genius by the hand.

Men. Epi.
You could not come
More opportune than now.

Pen.
It is my way:
I know to hit each point and nick of time.

Men. Epi.
Shall I acquaint you with a saucy prank?

Pen.
Saucy? what cook has drest it? I shall know
If he has marr'd it when I see the relicks.

Men. Epi.
Now prithee tell me, have you never seen
The picture of an eagle bearing off
Jove's Ganymede, or Venus with Adonis?

Pen.
Ay, many a time. But what are they to me?

Men. Epi.
Look at me.—Do I bear resemblance to them?

Pen.
What means that robe?

Men. Epi.
Say I'm a pleasant fellow.

Pen.
Where shall we dine?

Men. Epi.
Poh, say what I command you.

Pen.
Well then,—thou art a pleasant fellow.

Men. Epi.
What,
Canst add nought of thy own?

Pen.
Yes, joyous fellow.

Men. Epi.
Proceed.

Pen.
Not I, i'faith, unless I know
Why there's a falling out 'twixt you and Madam.
I take great care to have this from yourself.

Men. Epi.
Tell me without the knowledge of my wife,
Where shall we kill, where bury, time?

Pen.
Come, come;
You say right; I will dig its grave: the day's
Already half-expired.

Men. Epi.
'Tis mere delay,
Your chattering thus.

Pen.
Knock out my only eye,
Menæchmus, if I speak one other word,
But what you bid.

Men. Epi.
Draw hither from the door.

Pen.
I will.

Men. Epi.
Draw hither.

Pen.
Well.

Men. Epi.
Come quickly hither,
Come from the lioness's den.

Pen.
'Fore heav'n,
You'd make a dext'rous charioteer.

Men. Epi.
Why so?

Pen.
You look behind you, lest your wife should follow.

Men. Epi.
What say you now?

Pen.
What say I?—what you will
I say and unsay.

Men.
Were your nose to any thing,
Could you not make a shrewd guess by the smell?

Pen.
Aye, surely: the whole college, Sir, of Augurs
Have not so quick a scent at divination.

Men. Epi.
Come then, and smell this robe which I have here.
What does it smell of? (holding it up.)
won't you take it? Hey-day!

Pen.
A woman's garment should be smelt at top;
The scent is else too strong for any nose.

Men. Epi.
Come, smell it here then, good Peniculus:—
How you make faces at it!

Pen.
I can't help it.

Men. Epi.
What does it smell of? answer.

Pen.
It smells strong
Of theft, of whore, and dinner.

Men. Epi.
I'm now going
To carry it to my mistress, my Erotium:
I'll bid her to provide a dinner for us,—
For me, for you, and for herself: we'll there
Carouse it till the morrow's morning star.

Pen.
O bravely spoken!—shall I knock?

Men. Epi.
You may.—
Yet hold a while.

Pen.
The cup was just at hand;
'Tis now a thousand paces off.

Men. Epi.
Knock softly.

Pen.
Are you afraid the door is made of crockery?

Men. Epi.
Hold, prithee hold:—herself is coming forth.

Pen.
Oh, Sir, you look upon the sun: your eyes
Are blinded with her brightness.—

SCENE III.

Enter EROTIUM.
My Menæchmus!
My love! good morrow!

Pen.
Won't you welcome me too?

Erot.
You rank not in the number of my friends.

Pen.
Yet treat me as a supernumerary.

Men. Epi.
We mean to pitch a field with you to-day.

Erot.
Aye, that we will.

Men. Epi.
And prove, with pitcher fill'd,
Which is the mightier warriour at the bowl:
Yourself shall be commander; you shall choose,
Which you will pass the night with.—O my sweet,
When I look on you, how I loath my wife!

Ero.
And yet you cannot chuse, but you must wrap you
In some part of her gear.—Pray what is this?

Men. Epi.
A cast skin of my wife's to be slipt on
By thee, my rose-bud.

Erot.
You've the readiest way
To win preheminence in my affection,
From all that pay me suit.

Pen.
Right harlot this!
An harlot's sure to coax, whene'er she finds
There's any thing to get.—If you had loved him,
You would have bit his nose off by this time
With slobbering.—

Men. Epi.
Take my cloak, Peniculus;
For I must dedicate the spoils I've vow'd.

Pen.
Let's see't.

Men. Epi.
(putting on the robe)
But prithee now, you'll afterwards
Dance in your robe.

Pen.
I dance in't?—

Men. Epi.
You are mad.

Pen.
Are you or I most mad?

Men. Epi.
Well, if you won't,
Then pull it off. I ran a mighty risk
In stealing of this robe: in my mind truly
Young Hercules ran not an equal hazard, when
He spoil'd the bold Hippolita of her girdle.
(giving the robe to Erotium.)
Take it, since you alone of women living
Suit your affection gently unto mine.
True lovers should be thus disposed.

Pen.
Provided
They would run headlong into beggary.

Men. Epi.
'Tis not a year past, since it stood me in
Four minæ for my wife.

Pen.
Four minæ then,
By your account, are plainly gone for ever.

Men. Epi.
Know you what I would have you do?

Erot.
I know;
And will take care according to your wish.

Men. Epi.
Let dinner be provided for us three;
Send to the market for some dainty morsel,
A gammon, some sow's kernels, a hog's cheek,
Or sausages, or something of that kind,
Which, when they're brought to table, may suggest
A kite-like appetite:—about it strait.

Erot.
'I faith I will.

Men. Epi.
We're going to the Forum,
We shall be here directly: while 'tis dressing,
We will amuse us with a whet i'th'interim.

Erot.
Come when you will, dear, all things shall be ready.

Men. Epi.
Quick, follow me.

Pen.
Yes, yes, I'll have an eye to you,
Close at your heels, I warrant; I'll not lose you,
Not for the wealth of all the gods.

[Exeunt Menæchmus and Peniculus.
Erot.
Call forth
The cook Cylindrus, bid him come this instant.

SCENE IV.

Enter CYLINDRUS.
Erot.
Take the hand-basket; and, d'ye mind? here are
Three pieces for you,—you have hold of them.

Cyl.
I have.

Ero.
Go to the market and provide
Enough for three; now let there be sufficient,
And nought to spare.

Cyl.
What kind of guests, pray, are they?

Ero.
I, and Menæchmus, and his parasite.

Cyl.
Nay, there are ten then;—for the parasite
Will lay about him equal to eight men.

Erot.
I've told you what's the number of our guests:
You will provide accordingly.

Cyl.
I warrant.
'Tis drest already: you've but to sit down.

Ero.
You'll come back quickly.

Cyl.
I'll be here this instant.