University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter MILPHIO.
MILPHIO.
I wait to know what way my plot proceeds—
'Tis my whole bent to ruin this same rogue.—
Just as he teazes my unhappy master,
My master with his fist and foot returns
The same to me.—It is a curse to serve
A man in love: chiefly, if he's debarr'd
The object of his love—See! Syncerastus
The pandar's slave, here coming from the temple!—
I'll list to what he says—

SCENE II.

Enter SYNCERASTUS.
Syn.
'Tis clear enough
That gods as well as men, shew little favour
To a poor fellow, servant to a master
No better than himself; and such a one
Is now my lot.—There is not to be found
In all the earth, a more perfidious man,
Or more malicious than my master is;
No man so dirty, none so base a scoundrel—
By heavens! I'd rather spend my life in quarries,
Or at the mill, with fetters heavy laden,
Than live this pandar's slave—Gods! what a kind
Of mortals these!—How they debauch the world!
Save me, good heavens!—every sort of men
Is in their quarters to be seen; 'tis just
As if you were arriv'd at Acheron.
A knight, or a foot-soldier would you see,
A libertine, or thief, or run-away
Scourg'd or imprison'd, or to slavery
Let him have been condemn'd, has he but money,
He's welcome, and you'll find him there—No man's
Deny'd: and therefore all the house is darkned;
And hiding places every where abound—
Guzzling and gormandising every corner
Is full of, just as in a tipling-house.
There you may see, in earthen ware inscrib'd
Epistolary tablets, seal'd with pitch.
Letters a cubit long compose the names
With which they're mark'd—Thus 'tis, that in our cellar
At home, we have a muster-roll of vintners—

Mil.
All this is wonderful, by Pollux' temple!
Unless this slave be made his master's heir.
For this soliloquy seems spoke o'er Lycus,
As if he were quite dead—I long to accost
This fellow—Tho' at the same time I hearken
Most willingly to what he's talking of himself.

Syn.
When I see here these doings, heartily
I'm vex'd to think, that slaves the best and costliest,
Should at our house be stript of the small stock,
Which for themselves they were allow'd to earn.
For what is idly got, is idly spent.

Mil.
This rogue holds forth as he were good for somewhat,
When he, by Hercules! could teach e'en idleness
To be more idle—

Syn.
From the temple now
I bring these vessels home—My master could not
With all his victims gain the goddess' smiles.
No, not upon her festival—

Mil.
[apart.]
Sweet Venus!

Syn.
Our girls howe'er, with their first offerings softned
Venus at once—

Mil.
[apart.]
Again I say, sweet Venus!

Syn.
Now I'll go home—

Mil.
Hola! Why, Syncerastus!

Syn.
Who calls?

Mil.
A friend—

Syn.
It is not like a friend
To stop me, when he sees I'm loaded thus—

Mil.
But I will serve you in return for this,
Whene'er you please, and where you shall command.
Account the agreement sign'd—

Syn.
I'll serve you then
In this, if you'll hereafter—

Mil.
What?

Syn.
Why only
When I am to be scourg'd, present your back
For me—

Mil.
Be hang'd—

Syn.
I know not what you are.

Mil.
I'm good for nothing—

Syn.
Be so to yourself then—

Mil.
I've somewhat I would say to you—

Syn.
But my burthen
Won't let me stay—

Mil.
Why, lay it down by you,
And turn your face to me—

Syn.
Well then, I do so—
Yet I want leisure—

Mil.
Save you, Syncerastus!

Syn.
Ah! Milphio! now may gods and goddesses
All bless—

Mil.
Bless whom?

Syn.
Not you; no, nor myself;
Nor yet my master—

Mil.
Whom then?

Syn.
Any one
Besides:—for none of us deserve a blessing—

Mil.
Cleverly said!

Syn.
I say but what is right—

Mil.
But what is't you're now doing?—

Syn.
I am doing
What it appears adult'rers rarely do.

Mil.
What's that?

Syn.
I'm bringing home my vessels safe—

Mil.
Thee and thy master too, may gods confound!

Syn.
Me they may spare, that him they may destroy—
I could, if I'd a mind, so manage matters,
That he, my master, would be surely ruin'd;
But that I tremble, Milphio, for myself—

Mil.
On what account, I prithee?

Syn.
You're a rogue—

Mil.
To bad men so I am—

Syn.
It badly fares
With me.

Mil.
No, you should say quite otherwise—
For how can you fare badly, when at home
Victuals and mistresses you have in plenty,
Nothing to pay: not the least present e'er
To a she-friend expected—

Syn.
But may Jupiter
So bless me!—

Mil.
As you want merit to be blest.

Syn.
As I could wish this family may perish—

Mil.
If then you wish it, lend a helping hand—

Syn.
It is not easy flying without feathers.
My wings are not yet fledg'd—

Mil.
Pluck out no hair
For these two months to come; and I'll engage
Beneath your arms your feathers will be rank—

Syn.
Go hang yourself—

Mil.
Go you too, and your master—

Syn.
Who knows that man, will quickly be corrupted—

Mil.
How's that?

Syn.
As if you could a secret keep.

Mil.
I'll keep one better than a tatling woman.

Syn.
I could with ease persuade myself to trust you,
But that I know you—

Mil.
Trust me at my peril,
Nor be afraid—

Syn.
I should do ill to trust thee;
And yet I will—

Mil.
You know my master is
Sworn enemy to yours?

Syn.
I know he is—

Mil.
About his love affair—

Syn.
Why there you've lost
Your labour—

Mil.
Ay—How so?

Syn.
You teach your grannam—

Mil.
Doubt not, my master will most willingly
Do all the mischief in his power to yours.
And would you but assist, it will be done
With much more ease—

Syn.
But, Milphio, there's one thing
I fear—

Mil.
What is't?

Syn.
Lest while I'm laying snares
Here for my master, you're betraying me—
For should he know I've told it any mortal,
He'd break my bones—

Mil.
No soul shall know't from me,
Except my master—Nor, but on condition
He give no hint the notice comes from you.

Syn.
I scarce can trust you; yet I think I'll do it.
Be sure you keep it secret tho'—

Mil.
Not Faith
Herself you can more safely trust—Out with it—
Both time and place invite—We are here alone—

Syn.
Your master, Milphio, would he act with caution,
Might ruin mine—

Mil.
How? how?

Syn.
Why easily—

Mil.
Let's hear your easily, that he may know it—

Syn.
Why, Adelphasium, whom your master doats on,
Is free by birth—

Mil.
How so?—

Syn.
In the same way
As is her sister Anterastilis.

Mil.
How prove you that?—

Syn.
Because he bought them both
At Anactorium in their infancy,
For eighteen minæ, of a Sicilian pirate—

Mil.
For how much did you say?

Syn.
For eighteen minæ.

Mil.
What, both?—

Syn.
Ay, and a third, their nurse besides.
The man who sold them, own'd them to be stolen—
Nay, said that they were free, and born at Carthage.

Mil.
Good heavens! how happily things come about?
My master Agorastocles, born too
At Carthage, was thence stolen at six years old—
Brought hither—He was sold to my old master;
Who when he died, adopted him his heir.

Syn.
All this will do—To effect it the more easily,
Let him assert their freedom, as he may,
Being their countryman—

Mil.
Then say no more.

Syn.
Our pandar's at last gasp, should he demand them—

Mil.
He shall not stir a foot, before he's ruin'd;
I've so contriv'd it—

Syn.
Heaven grant it so!
That I may serve this pandar here no more.

Mil.
You shall for this, my fellow-freedman be,
An't please the gods—

Syn.
And may it please the gods!
Would you ought else with me?—

Mil.
Nothing at all:
But fare you well, and happiness attend you.

Syn.
Troth, that's in yours, and in your master's power.
Farewell—Under the rose tho' this, observe—

Mil.
Just as if nothing had been said—Adieu!

Syn.
Strike while the iron's hot, or else 'twill end
In smoke—

Mil.
The advice is good—It shall be so—

Syn.
Excellent stuff we have to work upon!
Provide you but as excellent a workman—

Mil.
Can't you be silent—

Syn.
I am dumb, and vanish—

Mil.
A glorious opportunity you've given me—
[Exit Syncerastus.]
He's gone—'Tis plain intended by the gods,
My master's safety, and this pandar's ruin:
Such instant mischief hovers o'er his head!
Before one half takes place, another follows!
I'll in, and tell my master every thing—
For should I call him hither, 'fore the door,
And here repeat what you've already heard,
[to the spectators.]
It were a solecism—I had much rather
Offend one man, my master here within,
Than all you here—Immortal gods! what mischief,
What misery now awaits this pandar here.
But how I tarry—This affair begun,
Brooks no delay—To-night we will consult;
And what our privy-council shall determine,
Will follow—But if longer here I loiter,
Who breaks my head, will serve me right—I'll in;
And wait my master's coming from the Forum.

[Exit.]