University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter ASTAPHIUM [speaking to PHRONESIUM as she comes out.]
Ast.
I'll do my duty well, see you do yours
As well within—Love what you ought; your interest.
While he is willing, fleece him:—while he has
To give, why humour now the opportunity.
Call forth your graces, feast him with your charms:
I will preside and manage here without.
While he exports his father's goods to us,
I'll not admit a creature to be troublesome.
Go on to fleece, and strip him at your pleasure.

Din.
Ha! who is this! Astaphium! Prithee say,
Who's this, who now is on the brink of ruin?

Ast.
Was you here, marry!

Din.
Am I troublesome!

Ast.
More now than formerly—For he by whom
We nothing get, to us is troublesome—
But give me leave to say what I would say.

Din.
What is't?—Concerns it me?—

Ast.
No, not a jot.
There's one within who gives by heaps—

Din.
What now?
Some new gallant?

Ast.
A full and untouch'd hoard
She has seiz'd—

Din.
Who is't?

Ast.
Don't mention it, I tell you,
Don't you know Strabax?

Din.
To be sure I do—

Ast.
He is a prince with us; he's our estate—
He spends his cash with spirit—

Din.
How! By Hercules!
Then I'm undone indeed—

Ast.
Indeed you are—
A simpleton, who would with words undo
What is already done—But so did Thetis
Mourn her lost son with funeral lamentations.

Din.
Can I not be admitted?

Ast.
And why rather
You, than the Captain?—

Din.
Why?—Because I've given
Her more—

Ast.
You oftner had admission then—
Others you should permit, for what they give
To use their time—You've learn'd your A, B, C.
Since you are perfect, theirs let others learn.

Din.
Why let them learn, so I may con my lesson,
For fear I should forget my learning—

Ast.
But,
While you, a master, exercise your brain,
Why she will do the same with hers—

Din.
How's that?

Ast.
She'll ever and anon expect some money.

Din.
I sent her, it is but to-day, five minæ;
Yes, and one more besides, to buy provisions.

Ast.
And they were bought I know; we now regale
Upon your courtesy—

Din.
What! shall my enemies
Feast here at my expence? By Hercules!
I swear, I'd rather suffer death than bear it.

Ast.
My enemies I wish should envy me,
Not I my enemies—To see another
Happy, is pain and misery to you.
Who envies, pines in poverty and want;
While the objects of his spleen abound in wealth.
O you are mighty simple!—

Din.
How's that?

Ast.
Wait—

Din.
Why so?—

Ast.
Because I chuse you should.

Din.
And not
At least be sharer of my own provisions?—

Ast.
If that was your intent, to your own house
You should have order'd half—For our receipts
Are just like those of Acheruns; we all
Receive; but what comes in, returns no more—
Farewell—

Din.
Stay, stop—

Ast.
Let me alone; be quiet.

Din.
Well—then—But I'll go in—

Ast.
To your own house.

Din.
No—but in here—

Ast.
That's quite impossible.

Din.
'Tis very possible—Let me but try.

Ast.
No forcible entry—Wait here, and I'll tell her,
You're come, unless I find she is engag'd.

[going.
Din.
Stay—Hold—

Ast.
'Tis all in vain—

Din.
Will you return?

Ast.
I would—But hark! I hear one call, whose voice
Is louder far than yours—

Din.
One word—

Ast.
Well, say it.

Din.
You'll let me in?—

Ast.
You fib—Go to—Your word
You've multiplied; for you've said four—all fibs.

[Exit.
Din.
She's fled, gone in—What! shall I bear all this?
I'll make a riot, and expose you here
Before your proper doors; trickster, I will
By Hercules!—Thou, who against the laws
From numbers hast extorted money, now
There's not a magistrate in town, but I
Will lay thy name before; and then for quadruple,
Will seize upon thee, thou vile sorceress,
Who dost steal boys, and pass them for thy own.
I'll publish to the world thy wicked deeds.
I'm now not worth a sesterce—I've spent all
I had—I'm desperate grown, and reckless now
What shoes I wear—Why do I clamour here?
Suppose she would admit me now—Most solemnly
I swear, I'd not go in, tho' she intreated me.
This railing is but loss of time—Who strikes
A goad, will feel the smart—To vent your rage
'Gainst her, who does not care a straw, is folly.
But who is this!—Good gods! I see old Callicles;
Who once was to have been my near relation—
He brings two girls with him in bonds, the one
Phronesium's tire-woman, his own maid t'other.
I'm in a dreadful fright—For added to
The present grief, which wounds my heart, I fear
My old bad pranks will now be brought to light.