University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter ASTAPHIUM.
Ast.
Keep at the door good watch, and guard the house,
[speaking to the slaves within.
Let none go out more loaded than they came,
Nor with hands big, which were brought hither barren.
I understand mankind, I know the humours
Of our young rakes—Whene'er a jolly set
Visit our house, they come with a plot form'd.
As soon as e'er they gain admittance, some one
Among the crew, assaults my mistress with
A storm of kisses: while they're both engag'd,
The rest steal, pilfer:—and, if they perceive
They are observ'd, they play some monkey tricks,
With jokes and sport to entertain the spy.
Oft at our cost they eat like sausage-makers.
'Troth, this is fact; and part of the spectators,
By Pollux! know I lie not—Valorous
They think it is to rob the plunderers.
But we, with our marauders, know full well,
Fairly to make reprisals—For they see
Their money brought to us—Nay more, they bring it
Themselves—

Din.
[apart.]
In that the jade hit me a slap:
For I myself have loaded her with presents.

Ast.
I recollect, if he's at home, I am
To bring him with me—

Din.
Ho! Astaphium, stop—
A word before you go—

Ast.
Who calls me back?

Din.
Look here, and you will know.

Ast.
Who is't?

Din.
A man
Who wishes you much good.

Ast.
Then give it me,
If that's your wish.

Din.
Look back, and you shall have it.

Ast.
Psha! you, whoe'er you are, teaze me to death.

Din.
Thou worst of women, stay then.

Ast.
My good man,
You're troublesome—But is it not Dinarchus?
'Tis he indeed;—he's coming to our house.

Din.
Give me your hand, and let us walk together.

Ast.
I am your slave, and must obey your orders.

Din.
How fares it?

Ast.
I'm in health, and so are you.
Now you're arriv'd, why you must have a supper—

Din.
Civilly said—

Ast.
Now, suffer me to go
Where I am sent, I beg you would.

Din.
Go then.
What was you saying?—

Ast.
About what?—What mean you?

Din.
Where are you going? Who is it you're sent for?

Ast.
The midwife Archiva.

Din.
You naughty hussey!

Ast.
As usual—'tis a part of our profession.

Din.
You jade, I've caught you in a downright lye.

Ast.
How so?

Din.
Because you said just now, you was
To bring him with you, you did not say her.
You've metamorphos'd now your man, and made
A woman of him—A vile slut you are.

Ast.
A conjurer!

Din.
But tell me now, Astaphium,
Who the man is—Is he some new gallant?

Ast.
Go, go: I tell you, you're an idle rogue.

Din.
Idle! How so?

Ast.
You look for food and cloaths
From other's pockets—

Din.
'Tis not so: my idleness
Is owing all to you.

Ast.
Ay; prithee how?

Din.
That I'll explain immediately—I've spent
My fortune in your service, and you've robb'd me
Both of my money, and my business too.
Had I preserv'd my means, I ne'er had been
An idle man.

Ast.
And can you thus conceive
The affairs of love, and the affairs of state
Are under different laws? A man engag'd
In either, must not be a man of business.

Din.
Phronesium is the publican, not I:—
You misinterpret me—She has, 'gainst law,
Receiv'd large sums of money, and ta'en in
Cattle, where I've sole right of pasturage.

Ast.
And others too who cannot pay their rents,
And manage matters ill, are just like you.
They blame the financiers.

Din.
Your pasture farm
Has turn'd out ill, I've now a mind to try
Some arable—

Ast.
Our land is pasture all,
If you want arable, apply to those
Who let it; ours is for publick use.
But there are other financiers enough.

Din.
I know them both full well—

Ast.
By Pollux! you
Have idle time enough—Which like you best?

Din.
You are more saucy, they more often perjur'd.
What you give them is lost and sunk at once;
With what you get, you eat and drink at least.
In short, they wicked are, and you are vain:
Fraudulent too; nay more, are good for nothing.

Ast.
All you have said 'gainst us and them, you've said
Against yourself, and turns out in our favour.

Din.
How can that be?

Ast.
I'll give my reason for't.
Because those who twit others with their faults,
Should look at home—Now you, who think yourself
So mighty wise, gain nought from us: but we
Great fools, have had our pennyworth of you.

Din.
You did not use to treat me thus, Astaphium:
But courteously, when what you now enjoy
Was mine—

Ast.
Ay, while a man's alive, we take
Some notice of him:—but when he's departed,
We let him rest—We took some note of you
While you was living.

Din.
What! D'ye think me dead?

Ast.
Can any thing be clearer?—What! her gallant
In chief, bring nothing now but lamentations!

Din.
'Tis your own faults, by Hercules!—You've been
Too hasty; for had you not been so rapid
In plundering, I might have held out long.

Ast.
A lover's like the fortress of an enemy.

Din.
How prove you that?

Ast.
Take him by storm as soon
As possible, 'twill be the better for
His mistress—

Din.
Well, I grant you that: but still
There's a wide difference between a friend
And a gallant—The oldest friend, I'm sure,
Is always thought the best—By Hercules!
My lands and tenements are not all gone

Ast.
For heaven's sake, why stand you thus before
Our doors, as if you was an alien, and
A stranger?—Pray go in; you're an old friend.
By Castor! in her heart and soul, she loves
You best of all mankind— [aside.]
since you have land
And houses left—

Din.
Your tongues drop milk and honey,
Your hearts are steep'd in gall and vinegar.
You give us sugar'd words; but then gallants,
When sparing of their purse, do bitter deeds.

Ast.
I have not learn'd the art of flattery yet.

Din.
My bounty taught you not to say such things:
But those same pinching, niggard rogues, who fight
Their inclinations—You're a cunning one,
Just what you us'd to be, an artful coaxer.

Ast.
How have we wish'd for your return? For on
My word, my mistress was quite wild to see you.

Din.
How so?

Ast.
You are the man of all mankind
She truly loves—

Din.
[aside.]
Well done! my lands and tenements!
You've help'd me at a pinch indeed— [to her.]
What say you?

Ast.
Your meaning?

Din.
Is Phronesium now at home?

Ast.
To you she is.

Din.
And well?

Ast.
She would be better,
If I mistake not, at the sight of you.

Din.
This is our greatest fault; when we're too much
In love, we're sure to be undone—For if
They tell us what we wish, fools as we are,
The most notorious falshood we believe.
How by the force of love are we transform'd!

Ast.
O fye! that can't be true.

Din.
Say you she loves me?

Ast.
Yes, only you.

Din.
I hear she's brought to bed.

Ast.
Ah! speak not of't, Dinarchus, I beseech you.

Din.
What now?

Ast.
I tremble when I hear it mention'd,
Phronesium was so near being lost to you.
Pray, in and visit her. Wait there a little;
She's coming from the bath: she's bath'd already.

Din.
What say you?—Is it possible she can
Be brought to bed, who never was with child?
I'm sure I ne'er perceiv'd that she was breeding.

Ast.
In truth, she did conceal her pregnancy,
For fear you should persuade her to destroy
The child, or after, or before its birth.

Din.
By Pollux! who's the father of the child?

Ast.
A Babylonian captain, whom she now
Expects: 'tis said he will be here directly.
I wonder he's not come.

Din.
Shall I go in?

Ast.
Why not? As freely as to your own house.
Dinarchus, you are now one of the family.

Din.
How soon shall you return?

Ast.
Why, in an instant.
'Tis but just by, I'm going.

Din.
Pray return
Immediately. I'll wait for you within.
[Exit Dinarchus.