University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter PHÆDROMUS with a lighted torch, some slaves following him with wine and provisions for an entertainment: and PALINURUS.
PALINURUS.
Whither away, and at this time of night;
Accoutred thus, and with this equipage?

Phæ.
Where Venus, and her son command me: where
Affection calls me—Whether it be midnight,
Twilight of evening, dawn of day, no matter—
The assignation made, we must attend
'Spite of our teeth—

Pal.
At length howe'er, at length—

Phæ.
At length, howe'er you are impertinent!

Phal.
'Tis neither right nor reputable, you
Be your own boy, and carry your own wax-light.

Phæ.
Should I not bring the work of little bees
Deriv'd from sweets, to my sweet little honey?

Pal.
But whither shall I say you're going now?

Phæ.
Ask me, and I'll inform you—

Pal.
Should I ask,
What would you answer?

Phæ.
This the temple is
Of Æsculapius—

Pal.
Well, and that I've known
More than a twelvemonth—

Phæ.
Next to it, you see
A door shut close—Hail! door that shut'st the closest.
How hast thou far'd of late—

Pal.
What! has a fever
Left you but yesterday, or two days since?
Supp'd you last night?

Phæ.
What! do you laugh at me?

Pal.
Are you not mad, to hail the door; and ask
After its health?

Phæ.
By Hercules! I've known
This door, a door most trusty and most secret—
He mutters not a word: and when he's open'd
Is still and hush—And when at night, his mistress
Comes out to speak with me, in private says
Not the least word—

Phal.
Are you not doing, Phædromus,
Something unworthy of yourself and family;
Or else about some prank? Say, are you not
Laying a snare to catch some modest girl;
Or one at least who ought to be so?

Phæ.
No.
And Jove forbid I should!

Pal.
I wish the same.
I'd have you always so to place your love,
If you are wise, that if the town should know it,
It may not be to your disgrace—Take care
Always, you be not infamous—If needs
That you must love, love before witnesses.

Phæ.
What's that?

Pal.
Take heed that you proceed with caution.

Phae.
Does not live here a pandar?

Pal.
None forbids
To purchase of him what's on sale, provided
You have but wherewithal to pay for it.
The publick road is free for all the world,
If to get at it, you break down no fence;
So from the married woman you abstain,
The widow, virgin, and the free, why then
Love where you list.

Phæ.
This is the pandar's house.

Pal.
A curse light on it!

Phæ.
Why?

Pal.
Because it serves
So infamous a master—

Phæ.
So! Revile!

Pal.
With all my heart I wish it—

Phæ.
Yet have done.

Pal.
Why, Sir, 'twas you yourself bade me go on.

Phæ.
But now I bid you hold your tongue—What I
Was going to say, is this—There's a young maiden—

Pal.
Belonging to the pandar who lives here—

Phæ.
You have it right—

Pal.
The less am I in danger
Of dropping it—

Phæ.
Intolerably saucy!
He fain would make a courtezan of her.
But, as she loves me ev'n to desperation,
I'd have her to myself.

Pal.
How's that?

Phæ.
I'd have her
My own, I say; because I love her too.

Pal.
This same clandestine love's a wicked thing:
'Tis utter ruin.

Phæ.
Troth, 'tis as you say.

Pal.
Say, has she enter'd yet the lists of love?

Phæ.
As far as I'm concern'd, chast as my sister;
Unless a kiss or two has made her otherwise.

Pal.
Ever remember this. Flame follows close
Upon the heels of smoke. In smoke, indeed,
Things cannot be consum'd, in flame they may.
He that would have the kernel, breaks the nut-shell.
Who would debauch a girl, begins with kisses—

Phæ.
But she's quite modest: nor to any man
Has yet allow'd her favours—

Pal.
All this talk
I could believe, if modesty and pandars
Could live together.

Phae.
Judge of her yourself.—
When she has had an opportunity
Of stealing off in private, she comes to me,
Gives me a single kiss, and strait returns.
The pandar being now sick, takes up his lodging
In Æsculapius' temple: and this gives her
At present, th'opportunity again.
That rascal tortures me.

Pal.
How?—What's the matter?

Phæ.
One time he asks me thirty minæ for her,
Another, a great talent.—Nor yet can I
From him get any dealing that is fair.

Pal.
You're wrong to think of getting from a pandar
That which he has not in him.

Phæ.
I've just sent
My parasite to Caria, there to ask
My friend to advance to me a sum of money
By way of loan: which if he does not bring,
I know not which way next I have to turn me.

Pal.
Pay your devotions to the Gods, and then,
I think you'll turn you towards the right.

Phæ.
Behold
Before the door, an altar rais'd to Venus.
I've vow'd a breakfast to my Venus here—

Pal.
Do you give yourself to Venus for a breakfast?

Phæ.
Myself and thee, and these.

Pal.
I see you mean
To overload your Venus' stomach then?

Phæ.
Give me the bowl, boy.

Pal.
What to do?

Phæ.
Oh! that
You soon shall know. There's an old harradan,
Who us'd to lye before the door to guard it;
The thirsty bawd is call'd here, Madam Vinous.

Pal.
Why, you speak of her, Sir, as of a flaggon,
That us'd to hold rich wine of Chios in it.

Phæ.
To say no more, she has a strong smack at wine.
Soon as with wine I've sprinkled o'er the doors,
You'll see, she'll smell me out, and open strait.

Pal.
Was it for her the bowl was hither brought?

Phæ.
If you oppose it not—

Pal.
I do, by Hercules!
Wou'd he that brought it here had broke his neck;
I thought it meant for us.

Phæ.
Come, hold your tongue.
If any's left, 'twill be enough for us.

Pal.
What river's that, be't e'er so full, the sea
Cannot receive?

Phæ.
Go with me to the door,
And contradict me not, Palinurus.

Pal.
Willingly.

Phæ.
Drink, lovely door, drink hard, and ever be
[sprinkling the door with wine.
Propitious to me.

Pal.
[to the door.]
Would you like, sweet door,
Olives, or capers, or some relisher?

Phæ.
Rouse, rouse your portress hither to my call.

Pal.
You spill the wine.—What is it you're about?

Phæ.
Away. See—how the house is open'd to me!
Not e'en a single creak—Sweet hinge, thou charm'st me!

Pal.
Give it a kiss.

Phæ.
Let us conceal our light,
And noise.

Pal.
Be't so.

[they stand apart.

SCENE II.

Enter BAWD.
Bawd.
'Tis good old wine I scent—
The love I bear it draws me thro' the dark.
Where'er it stands, 'tis near.—Oh ho! I have it.
All hail, my soul! joy of my Bacchus, hail!
O how do I adore thy aged age!
The smell of rich perfume's to thee a stink,
Thou art to me my myrrh, my cinnamon,
My rose, my saffron ointment, my sweet cassia,
My perfume of Arabia; wheresoe'er
Thou spread'st thy sweets, let me be buried there.
But now thy scent has gratified my nose,
Let in its turn my throat receive some joy.
Yet, yet I feel thee not—Why, where's the bowl?
I long to touch it. Pour thy liquor in.
Pour, till it guggle in my throat—This way
It went. I will pursue it here.

Phæ.
It is
A thirsty bawd.

Pal.
A little dry, or so.

Phæ.
She's moderate. She takes off but a cup
Nine gallon measure.

Pal.
'Troth, by your account,
The vintage of the year will scarce suffice her—
'Tis pity but she had been whelp'd a spaniel;
She has so good a nose.

Bawd.
What voice is that?

Phæ.
I think I'll speak to the old jade. I'll strait
Accost her. Stay. Come back, look at me, bawd.

[to her.
Bawd.
Who's that commands?

Phæ.
The god of wine, brave Bacchus.
He brings a potion to you, who are hawking,
Coughing, and parch'd with thirst; but half asleep,
Shall make you quiet—

Bawd.
How far off it is?

Phæ.
Behold this light.

Bawd.
I prithee mend thy pace.
Come nearer to me.

Phæ.
Health to you.

Bawd.
Can that be
When I am parch'd with thirst?

Pha.
Ho! you shall drink
This very moment.

Bawd.
Sure 'tis long a coming.

Phæ.
Here, take it, merry dame.

[giving her the bowl.
Bawd.
Your health, dear man, [drinking.

Dear as my eyes.

Pal.
Quick, down with't—in thy maw,
Scour well thy sink with it.

Phæ.
Peace, hold your tongue.
No spiteful words.

Pal.
I'd rather act my spite to her—

Bawd.
Venus, from little left, I give thee little,
And that against my will. Your lovers, when
They quaff and drink away, make their libations:
Seldom so good a lot falls to my share.

Pal.
How greedily the jade sucks down the wine
With open gullet?

Phæ.
Now I'm at a loss!
I know not how I shall begin with her.

Pal.
Tell her the very same you now told me.

Phæ.
What's that?

Pal.
Why, that you are undone.—

Phæ.
Confound you!

Pal.
Tell her—

Bawd.
[after having drank.]
Ah!

Pal.
Do you like it?

Bawd.
Very well, Sir.

Pal.
And I should like a goad to dig your sides with.

Phæ.
Be quiet: hold your tongue.

Pal.
I say no more.
See, see, the rainbow drinks—By Hercules,
I think 'twill rain to-day—

Pha.
Shall I now tell her?

Pal.
What would you tell her?

Phæ.
That I am undone.

Pal.
Ay, tell her so—

Phæ.
Old woman, list to me.
I'd have you know I'm ruin'd,—quite—to death.

Bawd.
That's not my case; for, I'm just brought to life.
But what's the reason that you tell me so?

Phæ.
Because I'm not possess'd of what I love.

Bawd.
My Phædromus, I beg you, weep not thus.
Take you but care I thirst not, I'll take care,
And bring you all you love.—

[Exit.
Phæ.
Keep faith with me,
I'll not erect a golden statue; no,
I'll plant a vine tree, as a monument
Erected to your gullet. Who on earth,
My Palinurus, shall like me be happy,
If my dear girl comes to me?

Pal.
By my troth,
The man that is in want, as well as love,
Is indeed wretched—

Phæ.
'Tis not so with me.
For I expect my parasite's return
To-day with money.

Pal.
You attempt great things,
If you depend on matters in the clouds.

Phæ.
What think you? shall I now draw near the door,
And sing a catch to it?

Pal.
Even as you please—
I neither bid, nor yet forbid your laws—
Your humours and your manners are so chang'd.

Phæ.
Hear me, ye bolts—With pleasure I salute ye.
I wou'd, I wish, I beg you, lovely bolts,
Propitious aid a lover. Lydians prove,
Dance from your staples, and send forth my love!
Who drinks my heart's best blood, and makes me wretched.
See how they sleep, these sorry bolts, nor stir
A step the faster upon my account.
I see you treat my favour with contempt.
But hist! hist!

Pal.
I am silent. What's the matter?

Phæ.
I hear a noise. The bolts at last comply.

SCENE III.

Re-enter BAWD, leading in PLANESIUM.
Bawd.
Go softly forth—Take heed, my dear Planesium,
The doors make not a noise, nor hinges creak,
For fear my master hear what we're about.
Stay, stay, I'll sprinkle some cold water on 'em.

Pal.
I like this palsied jade's prescription tho'—
She's learn'd so much, to take the wine herself,
And leave the water for the doors to drink.

Pla.
Come near, where art thou? You, who surety are
For my recognizance to Venus—Where?
Who in her name thus cit'st me to appear?
Behold me here. Being call'd, I make my appearance,
And call on you to do the same.

Phæ.
I'm here,
My sweet; or else, I would submit to judgment.

Pla.
My soul! It is not meet for a true lover
To be far distant from us—

Phæ.
Palinurus!
O Palinurus!

Pal.
Why is it you call
On Palinurus?—Pray speak out—

Phæ.
You think she is
Agreeable—

Pal.
Too much so—

Phæ.
I'm a god—

Pal.
A paltry god!

Phæ.
What have you ever seen
Nearer the gods, in happiness than I am?

Pal.
You're not in your right senses, that I see,
And grieve to see.

Phæ.
You grow impertinent;
Be dumb.

Pal.
The man, who sees all that he loves,
Nor yet enjoys it, while 'tis in his power,
Is sure a self-tormentor.

Phæ.
Well he chides me.
There's nought on earth I have so long desir'd.

Pla.
Then take me—To your arms I—

Phæ.
This, this it is,
That makes me fond of life. 'Tis this restraint
Laid on you by your master, makes you dearer.

Pla.
Restraint? He never can restrain me from thee;
Nor shall, 'till death shall separate our souls.

Pal.
I cannot hold, but must give him a schooling.
'Tis good to love a little, and discreetly:
'Tis bad to love to a degree of madness—
But 'tis my master's case to be in love

Phæ.
Let kings their kingdoms keep unto themselves,
The rich their riches—Let each man enjoy
His own, his honours, virtues, duels, battles,
So they with envy look not on my joys—

Pal.
Sir, have you vow'd to watch this night to Venus?
'Twill soon be break of day, by Pollux' temple!

Phæ.
Peace! hold your tongue!

Pal.
Why should I hold my tongue!
Unless that you may sleep—

Phæ.
Well, I'll to sleep.
Make not so great a noise.

Per.
[aside.]
Undone! by Hercules!
What's this I learn?

Epi.
The truth.—On hearing this
I edg'd myself a little nearer to them
As if the crowd had push'd me on that way.

Per.
I understand you.—

Epi.
But, how know you this?
Said t'other, tell me who 'twas told you so?
She had a letter from him but this day,
This very day, said she, a letter came
That he had taken up money of a banker
At interest; that he had it in his hands,
And brought it with him for that very purpose.

Per.
Yes, yes, 'tis over with me.

Epi.
Then she added,
She had it from the girl herself, as well
As from the letter.

Per.
What's now to be done?
I must advise with my Apæcides.

Apoe.
We've nothing else to do, but to find out
Some feasible expedient, piping hot—
For if the young man is not here already,
He will be very soon, by Hercules!

Epi.
Wer't not to seem more wise than both my masters,
I could propose a clever project, which,
In my opinion, you would both approve of.

Per.
What is't, Epidicus?

Epi.
And feasible
Enough.

Apoe.
Why dost delay to speak it then?

Epi.
You've wiser heads than I; do you speak first,
I'll give you my opinion afterwards.

Apoe.
Psha! prithee tell us.

Epi.
No, you'll laugh at me.

Apoe.
No, in good truth.

Epi.
Well, if you like the project
Put it in practice; if you approve it not,
Find out a better—I nor sow nor reap
Ought for myself; my whole concern's for you.

Per.
Thank you for that: but let us know your scheme.

Epi.
Find out a wife directly for your son;
And wreak your vengeance on this musick-girl,
He's all for freeing, who debauches him;
Nor ever give her freedom while she lives.

Apoe.
That's right, as can be.

Per.
I'm for any measure
So that the thing be done once.

Epi.
Never fear—
Now is the time, e're he arrives, to do it:
To-day's our own, as he'll be here to-morrow.

Per.
How know you it?
Shall we thus ever love; and but express
Our love as now clandestinely, by stealth?

Phæ.
By no means. 'Tis four days since I dispatch'd
My parasite to Caria, to procure
Some money: He'll be here this very day.

Pla.
Time much too long you take, contriving means.

Phæ.
May Venus never be propitious to me,
If you are three days longer in this house,
Before I make you free!

Pla.
Do as you say.
Before I go, this kiss.

[kisses him.
Phæ.
Should any one
Now offer me a kingdom, I'd not take it
With greater pleasure. Say, when shall I see you?

Pla.
When will you make me free? answer that question.
Ask not of me: but if you love me, buy me.
Be sure bid what he'll not refuse—Adieu!

[Exit.
Phæ.
Quit me so soon! I die, my Palinurus.

Pal.
And I—with blows and want of sleep!

Phæ.
Then follow me.

[Exeunt.