University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter PENICULUS, the Parasite.
I have seen thirty years and more, yet never
Play'd I so foolish or so vile a trick
As I have done this day, in mixing with
The crowd in the assembly of the people.
Where while I stood staring about, Menæchmus
Gave me the slip, I fancy to his mistress;
Nor took me with him.—Gods confound the man!
First took it in his head, to institute
These meetings to engage the most engag'd.
'Twere better only to elect the idle
Who should be fin'd in case of non-attendance.
There are enough who eat their meals alone;
Who've nought to do, who nor invited are
Nor e'er invite.—These were the men to hold
Assemblies, and attend at the Comitia.—
Had this been so, I had not lost my dinner,
Which he'd as sure have giv'n me, as I live.
I'll go however—Hope of the very scraps
Comforts my mind—But see, Menæchmus comes
From dinner, with a wreath—All's ta'en away,
And I am come at a fine time indeed!

SCENE II.

Enter MENÆCHMUS SOSICLES with a robe.
Men. Sos.
If I return it neatly fitted up,
[speaking to Erotium within.]
So that you scarce shall know it is the same,
And that this very day, shall you not then
Be satisfied?

Pen.
[apart.]
He's carrying the robe
To the embroiderer's—And dinner's done—
The wine drank off, and the poor parasite bilk'd,
By Hercules! if I put up with this,
And not revenge, I'm not the man I am.
Let's first see what he'll do, and then accost him.—

Men. Sos.
Immortal Gods! is there a man on whom
You've in one day bestow'd more good, or one
Who less could hope for it? I've din'd, I've drank,
I've feasted with my mistress, have born off
This robe, which she no more shall call her own.

Pen.
[apart.]
He speaks so softly, I can scarce distinguish
What 'tis he says: sure, now his belly's full,
He talks of me, and of my share at dinner.

Men. Sos.
She told me, I had given her the robe
And that I'd stol'n it from my wife: tho' I
Knew she was wrong, I seemingly assented
To all her story, as if both of us
Had been joint parties in the whole transaction.
Said as she said—What need of many words?
I never in my life have far'd so well,
And at so small expence.

Pen.
I will accost him.
I'm out of patience till I quarrel with him.

Men. Sos.
Who is it that is coming to accost me?

Pen.
Tell me, inconstant, lighter than a feather,
Thou worst of men, most wicked of mankind,
Base man, deceiver, void of faith and honour!
Have I deserv'd this of thee? For what cause
Hast thou undone me? Say, have I deserv'd,
That thou should'st steal thyself away from me,
Now at the Forum? Thou hast buried too
The dinner in my absence, to the which
I was joint heir—How dare you serve me thus?

Men. Sos.
Prithee, young man, what hast to do with me?
Abusing thus a man thou dost not know—
You'd have me wreak this insult then hereafter?

Pen.
You have done that already.

Men. Sos.
Answer me.
Tell me your name, young man.

Pen.
Still mocking me?
As if you did not know my name?

Men. Sos.
In troth,
I know not till this day I ever saw thee,
Nor art thou known to me, whoe'er thou art,
It ill-becomes thee to be troublesome.

Pen.
Not know me?

Men. Sos.
If I did, I'd not deny it.

Pen.
Awake, Menæchmus.

Men. Sos.
'Troth, I do not know,
That I'm a-sleep.

Pen.
Not know your parasite?

Men. Sos.
Thy head is turn'd, young man, in my opinion.

Pen.
Answer me, did you not this very day,
Steal from your wife that robe, and give't Erotium?

Men. Sos.
Neither have I a wife, nor robe have stol'n,
Nor given to Erotium.

Pen.
Are you mad?
Have you your senses? Why the thing's apparent!
Did I not see you coming from the house,
The robe upon you?

Men. Sos.
Woe upon thy head!
'Cause you're a rogue, think you we all are such?
Say you, you saw me with this robe upon me?

Pen.
I did, by Hercules!

Men. Sos.
Go, and be hang'd
As you deserve, or else go purge your brain;
For thou'rt the veriest madman I e'er met with.

Pen.
By Pollux' temple, nothing shall prevent me,
From telling to your wife, the whole that's pass'd.
And then shall all this scurril wit retort
Back on yourself. Nor shall you unreveng'd
Have swallow'd down my dinner.

Men. Sos.
What is this?
Shall ev'ry one I see, affront me thus?
But see, the door is opening.—

SCENE III.

Enter a MAID SERVANT of Erotium, with a clasp.
Serv.
Erotium
Most earnestly entreats of her Menæchmus,
('Twill make it but one trouble,) to bear this
To the goldsmith, with her orders, that he add
An ounce more gold, and have it clean'd and mended.

Men. Sos.
This, and ought else that she would have me do,
Tell her I will take care to execute.

Serv.
But, do you know the clasp I'm speaking of?

Men. Sos.
I know it not; but see 'tis made of gold.

Serv.
'Tis that, which sometime since, you said you stole
And privately, from your wife's chest of drawers.

Men. Sos.
That's what I never did, by Hercules!

Serv.
What, don't you recollect it? then, return it.

Men. Sos.
Stay: I begin to recollect: it was
The same I gave your mistress.

Serv.
Yes, the same.

Men. Sos.
Where are the bracelets which I gave with it?

Serv.
You never gave them.

Men. Sos.
But I did, by Pollux!
And gave them both together.

Serv.
Shall I say,
You will take care—

Men. Sos.
Yes; and the robe and clasp
Shall be return'd together—

Serv.
Let me, Sir,
Beg you'd present me with a pair of ear-rings
Of gold, and of two pieces value; that I may
Look well upon you, when you pay your visits.

Men. Sos.
It shall be done: give me the gold; I'll pay
Myself the fashion.

Serv.
No, I pray you, Sir,
Give it yourself, I'll be accountable.

Men. Sos.
I say, give me the gold—

Serv.
Another time.
I'll pay it back two-fold.

Men. Sos.
I have no money.

Serv.
But when you have, you'll pay the jeweller.
Any commands with me?

Men. Sos.
Yes, tell your mistress
I'll take great care of what she has order'd me—
[Exit Servant.]
Yes, soon as may be, I'll take care to sell them
[aside.]
To the best bidder.—Is she now gone in?
She is, and shut the door. Sure all the gods
Befriend me, and heap favour upon favour.
Why do I stay when time and opportunity
Thus favours me in quitting this vile place,
This place of bawds and panders?
Haste thee, Menæchmus, then; use well thy feet,
And mend thy pace. Let me take off my wreath,
And throw it to the left: that, if I'm follow'd,
They may suppose, I'm gone that way. I'll now
Find, if I can, my servant, and acquaint him
With what the gods are doing in my favour—

[Exit.