University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter HANNO, the CARTHAGINIAN.
HANNO.
Ye gods and goddesses, who rule this region,
And its inhabitants, propitious all
Attend, and make my journey to this place
End happily, and crown me with success;
The long desir'd success, to find at last
My two lost daughters, and my brother's son:
Antidamas, who liv'd here formerly,
Was once my guest—But he has paid his debt,
As common fame reports, and is no more.
But Agorastocles, his son, they say,
Inhabits here—This hospitable ticket—
And image of the hospitable god,
I bring along with me—I am inform'd
He lives within this neighbourhood—I'll enquire
Of these two men, who now are coming forth—

[seeing Agorastocles and Milphio.]

SCENE II.

Enter AGORASTOCLES and MILPHIO.
Ago.
Say'st thou then Milphio, Syncerastus told thee
That these two girls are neither of them slaves;
But free; of noble birth; and stolen from Carthage?

Mil.
Yes, I affirm it—And I add this likewise,
If you had spirit, you would claim them both
As free—Troth! 'tis a baseness in you,
To suffer your own countrywomen here
Before your eyes to be pent up, and treated
As slaves, meer slaves, who once, at home were free—

Han.
[apart.]
These mens discourse is musick to my heart.
My ears devour their words; and every syllable
Chears up my mind, and kindles hope anew.

Ago.
[to Milphio.]
Had I but evidence of this, your project
Should instantly be put in practice—

Mil.
Evidence!
What tell you me of evidence?—Insist
Most strenuously upon it—Unknown good fortune
Will come and aid your purpose—

Ago.
This attempt
May be indeed begun with ease; but not
Brought to the wish'd event so easily—

Mil.
But see! what is that creature, who comes forward
In his long robes?—Returns he from the baths,
[seeing Hanno, and his servants.]
Thus muffled in his cloak? A Carthaginian
To read him by his countenance—And with him
He has, you see, some antiquated slaves—

Ago.
How know you that?

Mil.
They're loaded with his baggage.
They have, it seems, no fingers on their hands.

Ago.
Whence comes that idle fancy?

Mil.
Why, they carry
Their rings upon their ears—I'll e'en accost them,
And speak to them in Punic—If they answer,
I'll chatter on in Punic—But if not,
My tongue shall speak some language they are us'd to.
But what say you?—Have you forgot your Punic?

Ago.
I have—How could I otherwise—No phrase
Do I remember of it—When stolen from Carthage,
I was but six years old—

Han.
[apart.]
How many children
Free born, are stolen from Carthage in this manner!

Mil.
What say you, Sir?

Ago.
What is't you ask?

Mil.
Inform me,
Is it your will I speak to him in Punic?

Ago.
Do'st understand it?

Mil.
Understand it?—Yes,
As well as any Punic of them all.

Ago.
Go, and accost him then—Enquire his purpose,
Why he comes hither—Who he is—What countryman,
And whence?—Spare not, but sift him thoroughly.

Mil.
God save you!—What's your country?—From what town?

Han.
I'm Hanno, son of Mythymbal, from Carthage.

Ago.
What answers he?—

Mil.
He says his name is Hanno,
The son of Mythymbal, and comes from Carthage—

Han.
All hail to both—

Mil.
He hails us both—

Han.
My masters.

Mil.
Sure 'tis some gift he means to offer you.
You hear him promise.

Ago.
In my name again
Return his compliment, and bid him welcome.

Mil.
In his own name, my master bids you welcome.

Han.
Oh! what a son of tears!

Mil.
That be thy portion;
But leave it not to me.

Ago.
What is't he says?

Mil.
He says his jaws are very painful, Sir—
Perhaps he may mistake us for physicians.

Ago.
If that be his opinion, undeceive him
This instant—Tell him we are not—A stranger
Should never be deceiv'd—

Mil.
We are no doctors—

Ago.
In troth, I would assist him all I may,
And aid his purpose—Ask, if I can serve him?

Mil.
You there, who wear no girdle—For what cause,
Why come you to this city?—What's your business?

Han.
Open your doors—

Ago.
What says he?—

Han.
Give to Saturn
A welcome entrance, I intreat—

Ago.
What asks he?

Mil.
Why, hear you not he talks of mice from Africa,
To be presented at the Ædile games,
To publick view?

Han.
The messenger, who asks
A safe abode, and kind endurance here—

Ago.
Well, my interpreter, what says he now?

Mil.
He tells us, he has bought some petty wares,
Shoe-straps and water-pipes, and nuts to part with:
And now he begs you'd help him in the sale.

Ago.
Sure he's some merchant then!—

Han.
Us strangers here—

Ago.
What? How?—

Han.
Admit at once in hospitable guise—

Ago.
Interpret, Milphio, what is it he says?

Mil.
He tells you he has spades and forks for sale,
For garden use, and sickles for our corn.
I fancy he comes here against your harvest.

Ago.
What is all this to me?

Mil.
'Tis my intent
You should be well inform'd of all his traffick,
Lest you should fancy I conceal one syllable.

Han.
'Tis on your deities, before invok'd,
On their account—

Mil.
Hem!—Be not over hasty
To traffick with him—

Ago.
What is it he says?
What's his request?—Explain it—

Mil.
He beseeches
To end his misery, you would place him under
A hurdle; and heap stones enough upon it,
To kill him quite, and finish all his sorrows.

Han.
Answer, O Baal! great lord of heaven and earth!

Ago.
What! How!—Interpret to me what he says.

Mil.
Why here indeed, I'm puzzled quite, and know not
A single word he utters.—

Han.
You shall not long
Be puzzled, I assure you—For henceforth
I'll speak in Latin plainly, and inform you
I know your knavery—'Tis not the sign
Of a good faithful servant, thus to sneer,
And spend your wit on an unhappy stranger.

Mil.
I know you well, a sycophant, a cheat,
Come hither with your jargon to deceive us—
A crawling serpent with your forked tongue—

Ago.
Forbear ill language, Milphio, curb your tongue,
If wise, henceforth you will forbear reproaches,
Or you shall smart severely—I'll not suffer you
Thus to abuse my countryman—Remember
That I myself to Carthage owe my birth—

Han.
My countryman, all hail!—

Ago.
All hail again
I cordially return, whoe'er you are.
If I in ought can serve you, speak, command me,
And take my service for the sake of Carthage—

Han.
With my best thanks your kindness I receive.
I think, I have a friend to entertain me—
I'm seeking now for Agorastocles,
Antidamas's son—Direct me to him,
If he be known to you—Are you acquainted
With such a youth as Agorastocles?

Ago.
Son by adoption to Antidamas,!
Antidamas, whose father was Damarchus!
If you enquire for him, the very person
Stands talking with you now—Myself am he.

Han.
Good heaven! What is't I hear?—

Ago.
You hear that I'm
Antidamas's son—

Han.
If this be so,
Compare my hospitable ticket.—Here,
Look at it: I have brought it with me; see—

Ago.
Pray let me see it then—Exactly true!
It tallies well with that I have at home—

[looking at it.]
Han.
Most worthy host, all hail! Your father formerly—
Once, formerly, your father was my guest—
This hospitable token from Antidamas
Did I receive at parting—

[shewing it.]
Ago.
In return,
As he was yours, so you shall be my guest.
I bid you doubly welcome, as from Carthage
My native place—

Han.
Heaven give you all you wish!
But say?—By what strange fate, if born at Carthage,
Did an Ætolian take you for his son?

Ago.
From Carthage I was stol'n—Antidamas
Your former guest, first purchas'd me a slave,
And for his son at length adopted me.

Han.
Antidamas was by Demarchus too
Adopted.—But no more of him—To you
I must confine my questions—Pray inform me,
Remember you your parents' names?

Ago.
The names
Of both I do remember perfectly.

Han.
Repeat them instantly—Perhaps I knew them.
They might perhaps be also of my kindred—

Ago.
My mother's was Ampsigura—My father's
Jachon—

Han.
O would that they were living now!

Ago.
Are they both dead?

Han.
Both, to my grief unutterable.
Ampsigura, your mother, was my kinswoman,
My cousin-german—And your father Jachon
My uncle's son—Dying, he left me heir
To his estate—His loss I bear most heavily.
But if you be indeed the son of Jachon,
On your left hand there is a scar—A monkey
Bit you, a boy, as you was playing with him.
Shew me your open hand, and let me view it.

Ago.
See then—'Tis there—All hail! my dearest kinsman.

Han.
All hail! again to Agorastocles—
In finding thee, I seem to live anew.

Mil.
In troth, it pleases me that things fall out
So happily for both—Shall I advise
A word or two?—

Han.
Most willingly—You may.

Mil.
The father's fortune then of right is his,
And 'tis but justice that his son should be
His father's heir, and take his whole estate—

Han.
I mean no other—All shall be restor'd—
I will diminish nothing, when he comes
To Carthage—

Mil.
Nay, restore it, tho' he should
Continue to live here.

Han.
He shall have mine
Beside, whene'er I die—

Mil.
A lucky thought
Just comes across me—

Han.
What is't?—

Mil.
We shall need
Your helping hand.—

Han.
Speak, and explain yourself.
My best assistance you may use most freely.—
What is the business?—

Mil.
Could you play a part?

Han.
Yes, on an enemy—To cheat a friend
Were meer absurdity—

Mil.
A foe to him,
[pointing to Agorastocles.]
He is undoubtedly—

Han.
With all my heart,
I'll do him an ill turn—

Mil.
My master, here
Fancies a girl this pandar has in keeping.

Han.
Discretely, sure!—

Mil.
This pandar lives hard by.

Han.
Does he?—Most willingly I'll play upon him.

Mil.
He has at home two girls; two sisters are they,
He keeps for traffick—One of these my master
Is desperately in love with—But has never
Once touch'd her—

Han.
An unhappy passion!

Mil.
Now
This pandar plays on him—

Han.
To enhance his merchandize.

Mil.
My master here would cheat him in his turn.

Han.
He's right, if he can do it—

Mil.
This contrivance
Is labouring in my brain—The plan is thus—
My plot must turn upon you—We shall cite you
To vouch them your two daughters, and both free—
That they were stolen from Carthage, and re-claim them.
You fully comprehend it?—

Han.
But too well.
Two daughters of my own, were stol'n like them,
When little children, with their nurse.

Mil.
Most happily
You make a parallel—We set out finely—

Han.
A parallel more perfect than I wish it.

[aside, weeping.]
Mil.
[aside.]
Alas!—In troth, we've got a subtle mortal,
[to Agorastocles.]
A wily, cunning, tricking, artful knave:
See how he whimpers!—Every gesture shews
An able actor—Why, he tops e'en me,
The very architect of fraud—

Han.
Their nurse—
Explain to me her person—

Mil.
Not o'er tall.
Dusky her hue.

Han.
Ay, ay, the very same,
No doubt—

Mil.
Her form agreeable—
Her mouth is small, her eyes as black as jet.

Han.
Her very form you have describ'd exactly.

Mil.
Choose you to see her?—

Han.
I would rather choose
To see my daughters—But go thou and call her.—
If they're indeed my daughters, she their nurse,
She'll know me instantly—

Mil.
Within!—Who's there?
Tell Giddeneme to come forth directly—
Here's one has business of importance with her—

SCENE III.

Enter GIDDENEME, and BOY.
Gid.
Who is it knocks?

Mil.
A very near acquaintance.

Gid.
What is your business?

Mil.
Hark you, Giddeneme,
Is that same long-sleev'd man there your acquaintance?

Gid.
Who is't I see? O Jupiter supreme!
Why 'tis my very master, and the father
Of my two mistresses—Hanno 'tis of Carthage.

Mil.
Look again, gipsey—This same Punic juggler
Is at his art most excellent—In troth
He carries all before him—

Gid.
O, my master,
All hail!—All hail to Hanno—to myself,
And to thy daughters much unhop'd for, welcome.
Nay, wonder not, nor gaze so fix'd upon me.
Know you not Giddeneme, your poor slave?

Han.
I know thee well—But where are my two daughters?
That is my first concern—

Gid.
In Venus' temple.

Han.
What do they there?—Inform me—

Gid.
'Tis the feast
Of Venus: and they're gone to pray the goddess
To be propitious to them—

Mil.
Yes, indeed!
Their prayers have well succeeded, now he's come!

Ago.
What then, are these his daughters?

Gid.
Certainly.
Your kindness at this time most critical,
Hath sav'd us all—This day—This very day
Their names were to be chang'd, to the vile purpose
Of common prostitution:—both devoted
For hire, as slaves, to that abandon'd trade.

Boy.
Shall not I bid him welcome?

Gid.
Child, remember,
They are at Venus' festival; as yet
The time's not proper—Hold your peace at present,
And keep the Captain ignorant of this.

Ago.
Tell me what 'tis they say to one another.

[to Milphio.]
Mil.
The boy salutes his mother; she, her son.

Han.
Peace! let alone the female conversation.

Ago.
What female conversation?

Han.
Why, loud talk,
Without all meaning, and beyond all measure.
Do thou [to Milphio.]
then take these home along with thee;
And take the nurse too—

Ago.
Strictly you obey him.

Mil.
But who then will be here to find his daughters?

Ago.
Myself shall do that office most exactly.

Mil.
I go then—

Ago.
Go—Don't tell me so, but go
This moment—Let a supper be got ready,
For my dear kinsman—

Mil.
Herbs may serve your turn.
[to Hanno's slaves.]
I shall [aside.]
take care to set you to the mill,
Then to the water-wheel; where each shall wear
A trusty clog, when tardy, at his heels.
Ye shall have slender cause to praise your keeping.

Ago.
But, kinsman, let me speak—And you must grant me
What I now ask you—Promise me in marriage
Your eldest daughter—

Han.
Granted willingly.

Ago.
Indeed! And do you promise?

Han.
From my heart.

Ago.
Again, hail kinsman! Now you're mine, indeed!
Now shall I visit her at last with freedom!
And, kinsman, would you see your daughter, follow me.

Han.
I will—I from my soul have wish'd it long.

Ago.
What if we meet them, as we pass?

Han.
I fear
Lest we should pass them—Jupiter supreme!
At last restore my hopes, and make me happy.

Ago.
I hope my charmer will be mine for ever.
But look! I see them coming.

Han.
These my daughters!
How wonderously grown!—

Ago.
Nay, wonder not—
They're Grecian columns, tall and elegant.

Mil.
I fancy, what to-day I said in joke,
May turn out quite the truth, a serious matter,
That these two girls are certainly his daughters.

Ago.
By heaven 'tis past all doubt—Milphio, do you
Take home your guests—Ours we shall wait for here.

[Exit Milphio.]

SCENE IV.

Enter ADELPHASIUM and ANTERASTILIS, from the temple of VENUS.
Ant.
Whoever hath a taste for elegance,
And visited the goddess' shrine to-day,
To feast his eyes, found it well worth his pains.
By Castor's temple, I was charm'd myself
To see how elegant the offerings were;
Worthy the queen of elegance herself!
Who could despise the honours of her day,
Where such variety of beauties met,
Each plac'd with art and nice propriety?
Odours of myrrh, and all Arabia's sweets,
Breath'd round. Thy fane and festival, O goddess,
Shone equal; such a croud of votaries
To Caledonian Venus bow'd. For us,
Our influence prevail'd, aton'd with ease,
For we were fair: nor were we, like the rest,
The may-game of the youth.

Adel.
I'd rather, sister,
Others should find it so, than you be left
To praise yourself.

Ant.
Sister, I wish so too.

Adel.
And I.—Since well I know the difference
Between ourselves and others.—Born as we are,
Shame should preserve us pure, and free from vice.

Han.
Great Jove! who dost preserve and guard mankind,
By whom we live and breathe this vital air,
On whom depends the hope of human life,
Make this day prosperous to my affairs.
Grant liberty to those, whom I, for years
Have mourn'd, and from their native country lost
Ev'n in their infancy; that I may know
For unremitting piety, there is
A due reward—

Ago.
Great Jove, I will engage
Shall grant your wish—He stands in awe of me.

Han.
Forbear, forbear such impious discourse.

Ago.
Uncle, weep not—

Ant.
Sister, how pleasant 'tis
To bear away the palm of victory!
Our beauty clearly won the prize to-day.

Adel.
You're not so wise as I could wish, my sister.
Why sure, because you have 'scap'd ridicule,
You do not therefore think yourself a beauty.

Ago.
Uncle, my uncle of all uncles uncle.—

Han.
Kinsman, my son, what would you have?

Ago.
Attend
Upon this business.

Han.
I'm about it.

Ago.
Uncle,
My best, my dearest uncle—

Han.
What's the matter?

Ago.
How pretty, elegant, and wise she is?

Han.
She has her father's disposition then
In that—

Ago.
In what?—The wisdom she deriv'd
From you, she has worn out long since—To me
And to my love, she owes her wisdom now.

Adel.
Sister, such is our birth, tho' now we're slaves,
We can't consistent with our character,
Do any thing would bring us in contempt.
Women have many faults, and of the many,
This is the chief; delighted with themselves,
Too great a zeal they have to please the men.

Ant.
Excess of joy, the omen for our sacrifice!
And what the soothsayer has foretold of both.

Ago.
I hope he prophesied no less of me.

Ant.
That in few days, in spite of our old master,
We should regain our liberty—And yet,
Unless our parents and the gods assist,
I know no room for hope.

Ago.
'Twas trust in me
That made the soothsayer promise them their liberty,
Because I lov'd this girl.

Adel.
Follow this way.

[to Anterastilis.]
Ant.
I follow.

Han.
If convenient, stop a moment.

Adel.
Who calls us back?

Ago.
One who desires to serve you.

Adel.
There's need enough of that—But who is he?

Ago.
Your friend—

Adel.
And so is every one, who is not
My foe—

Ago.
He's a good man, my love.

Adel.
I'd rather
Have such a man my friend, than one who's bad.

Ago.
If you'd engage in friendship, none so fit
To be your friend.

Adel.
I do not now propose it.

Ago.
He longs to do you many services.

Adel.
He proves his worth, by serving those who're good.

Han.
I'll give you joy.

Adel.
And pleasure to yourself.

Han.
And liberty to you—

Adel.
At such a price
You purchase us for ever for your own—

Ago.
If I were Jove, I'd marry this dear girl,
And turn old Juno out of doors—How fitly,
How decent, how consid'rately she talk'd!
And with what modesty she fram'd her speech!
She must, she shall be mine.

Han.
How artfully
[to Agorastocles.]
I play'd my part?

Ago.
Yes, handsomely, by Hercules!
Cleverly too—

Han.
Return then to the charge

Ago.
Proceed, be short—The pit I see is thirsty—

Han.
Why loiter we? Let us complete our business.
I summon you before the magistrate.

Ago.
Then seize them, uncle—

Han.
Seize them then yourself,
If you are wise—

Ago.
And do you bid me seize
This fair one?

Han.
Hold her fast.

Adel.
And is this man
Truly your uncle, Agorastocles?

Ago.
I'll make you know that presently—I'll be
Sweetly reveng'd on you—I swear by Pollux!
That you shall be my bride—

Han.
Come, come away
Before the magistrate; nor wast the time.

Ant.
Be you a witness for me, and lead on.

Ago.
I'll witness for you—Her I will embrace
And love that—so I would have said,—but I
Have spoke my wishes.

Han.
Still, you loiter here.
I summon you again—You would not sure
Be drag'd by force.

Adel.
Why summon us? Are we
In debt to you?

Ago.
Ask him that question.

Adel.
Does
My own cur bark at me?

Ago.
Yet, pat me but
A little, feed me with a kiss or two,
You'll make your cur as gentle as a lamb.

Han.
Come on, unless you would be carried—

Adel.
How
Have we offended you?

Han.
You're thieves—

Adel.
We thieves?

Han.
Both thieves—

Ago.
I know it to be true.

Adel.
What robbery
Is this?

Ago.
Ask him there.

Han.
You've for many years
Conceal'd my daughters: women of distinction,
Free, and of highest birth—

Adel.
You'll never prove us
Guilty of such a villainy—

Ago.
I'll bet
A kiss, you've said what's false. I care not whether
I win or lose—

Adel.
I have no business with you—
Be gone—

Ago.
Ay, but by Hercules! you have—
He is my uncle; I'm in duty bound
To be his advocate; and I'll inform him
How many thefts you're guilty of; and how
You keep for slaves his daughters, whom you know
Free-born, and from their native country stolen.

Adel.
Where, or who are they, pray?

Ago.
They're teiz'd enough.

[to Hanno.]
Han.
Shall I discover—?

Ago.
Now's the time, good uncle.

Adel.
Sister, I dread this matter—how 'twill end—
I am so sunk and spiritless.

Han.
Attend,
Both of you, hear.—And first, I could have wish'd
The gods, if possible, had spar'd your innocence.
For what their gracious wills have done for me,
For you, and for your nurse, we ought to give them
Eternal thanks, for that they have been pleas'd
To honour and approve our piety—
You are my daughters—Agorastocles
Is your relation, my own brother's son.

Adel.
Good heavens! do they mislead us with false hopes?

Ago.
So may the gods protect me! as 'tis sure
He is your father—Come, give him your hands—

Adel.
Our father, our unhop'd for father, hail!
Indulge us in one dear embrace.

Han.
My daughters,
My dearest, my long wish'd-for children, Oh!—

Ant.
My father! we are both of us your daughters,
Let both of us embrace you.

Ago.
Who shall after
Embrace poor me?

Han.
Now I indeed am happy.
Whole years of misery are now repaid
With joy!

Adel.
We scarce can think it credible.

Han.
'Twill be more credible, when I inform you,
Your nurse did at first sight acknowledge me.

Adel.
Where, I beseech you, is she?

Han.
At his house.

[pointing to Agorastocles.]
Ago.
Why do you hang upon his neck so long?
Before he has promis'd you in marriage to me.

Adel.
I've done—

Ago.
Hail! mine that is to be!

[kissing and embracing her.]
Adel.
Pray spare
Your compliment.

Ago.
And hail too, Anterastilis!

Ant.
Forbear, you teize me.

Han.
Let's now arm in arm
Unite, and henceforth form the band of friendship.
Who are on earth more happy?

Ago.
Worth finds here
Her due reward!—He has reach'd at length his wishes!
O Zeuxis! O Apelles! why are you
Now number'd with the dead? when here's a subject
Of your great pencils worthy, far above
The touch of meaner hands—

Han.
To you, ye gods,
What thanks, what gratitude I justly owe,
Who thus have fill'd my heart with joy and gladness,
And brought my daughters to my widow'd arms!

Adel.
The just reward of fatherly affection!

Ago.
Now uncle, call to mind your former promise,
That gave your eldest daughter to my vows.

Han.
I've not forgot it.

Ago.
Nor forget her fortune.

SCENE V.

Enter ANTHEMONIDES.
Anthe.
If I am not reveng'd, and smartly too,
For that same mina, which I gave the rascal,
May I a common may-game be; the scoff
Of fools—The beast has brought me here to dine;
And he is gone abroad himself; while I
Am left, forsooth, his knaveship's hall-keeper—
Neither the Pandar, nor the girls return'd;
And not a scrap to eat—'Stead of my dinner,
I laid my hands on this, and so march'd out.
I'll pay him—It shall be in soldier's coin.
[drawing his sword.]
He thinks he has found his man, whom he may cheat.
Would I could meet now, while my choler's up,
This mistress, I'd so baste her with my fists,
I'd make a mulberry of her; she should look
Blacker than any Ethiop, or the knaves
Who carry buckets at the publick games.

[Here both the daughters run to their father.]
Adel.
O hold me fast, dear Sir, I dread that kite—
[seeing Anthemonides.]
It is a ravenous bird—lest he should seize
Your chick.

Ant.
I cannot hold you fast enough,
My father—

Anthe.
But I loiter here: with this
I might have bought a dinner—Hey! what's this!
What's this I see? How! What!—a duplicate!
A strange conjunction—Who's this fellow here,
With his long skirts so like a tavern boy?
Do I see clear? Can that be Anterastilis,
My flame?—'Tis she, as sure as I'm alive.
I've for some time perceiv'd she slighted me.
But is she not asham'd, i'th'publick street
To embrace a tawny moor? I'll send this rascal
Strait to the gallows—These long skirted fellows
Are mighty women's-men. But I'll accost her,
This negro-loving hussey!—Holla! You—
Woman, to you I speak—Ar't not asham'd?
What business, fellow, hast thou with that woman?

Han.
Youth, save you—

Anth.
I will not be sav'd—What is't
To you? How dare you touch this girl?

Han.
It lik'd me.

Anthe.
It lik'd you?—

Han.
Yes, it lik'd me.

Anthe.
Strap, go hang thee.
Dar'st thou turn lover, thou! thou hop o'my thumb!
Dar'st thou pretend to be a man, thou eel-skin,
Thou leathern bucket, frowzy vest; thou stinkest
Of leeks and garlick, worse than Roman rowers.

Ago.
Ho! younker!—Do your cheeks or shoulders itch,
That you affront this man: and do you want
A drubbing?

Anthe.
Why dost not accompany
Thy railing with a drum? for thou'rt a priest
Of Cybele, I think; and not a man.

Ago.
I'll make you know how I'm a priest—Come out,
My slaves, and bring the cudgels—

Anthe.
Do not take
In earnest, what I only said in jest.

Ant.
How can you, Anthemonides, delight
To abuse my father and my cousin thus?
This is our father—But this very now
He found us out; and this, his brother's son.

[meaning Agorastocles.]
Anthe.
May Jupiter so love me, as I'm glad.
It is a lucky chance; it chears my heart.
I'm glad of any ruin to this pandar;
And that your fortune's equal to your virtues.

Ant.
Troth, what he says is probable, my father—
Believe him—

Han.
Well, I do—

Ago.
And so do I.—
Look, see the pandar Lycus! the good man!
Look, look! I see him—He is coming home.

Han.
Who is this man?

Ago.
Or Lycus, or the pandar:
Which e'er you please—Your daughters were his slaves;
And he's the rascal that has stolen my gold.

Han.
A precious fellow you're acquainted with!

Ago.
Drag him before the Prætor.

Han.
By no means.

Ago.
Why so?

Han.
Because I'd better bring my action.

SCENE VI.

Enter LYCUS.
No one, in my opinion, is deceiv'd,
Who fairly lays his case before his friends.
All mine, and even to a man, advise
That I should rather hang myself, than be
Decreed a slave to Agorastocles.

Ago.
Pandar, we'll to the magistrate.

Lyc.
I beg you,
Do, prithee, give me leave to hang myself—

[to Agorastocles.]
Han.
Pandar, I summon you before the Prætor.

Lyc.
What business have you with me?

Han.
Business, say you?
Why, I affirm my daughters were born free,
Women of rank; and with their nurse were stolen,
When children—

Lyc.
That I knew some time ago;
And wonder'd much, that none e'er came to claim them.
They certainly are none of mine.

Anthe.
And, Pandar,
I also summon you—

Lyc.
I owe a dinner—
Well, you shall have it—

Ago.
I must be paid double
Of what you've stolen—

Lyc.
Take it then from hence—

[pointing to his neck.]
Han.
What pains and penalties to me you owe!

Lyc.
Take what you please—

Anthe.
And take for me a mina.

Lyc.
Take it from hence: [meaning his neck.]
one hanging pays you all.

Ago.
Do you object to my demand?

Lyc.
I do not.

Ago.
Then, in, my girls—And, uncle, don't forget
That you betrothe—

Han.
I mean no less.

Anthe.
Farewell.

Ago.
Adieu!

Anthe.
I take this pawn here for my mina.

[laying hold on Lycus.]
Lyc.
Oh! I'm undone—

Ago.
Ay, so indeed you will be,
When you appear in court.

Lyc.
To save that trouble,
I here acknowledge, I'm your slave—No need
To go before the Prætor—But I beg you,
Let me but pay the simple sum—I think
I can scrape up three hundred Philippæans;
And on the morrow I'll proclaim an auction.

Ago.
With all my heart—so you remain with me
In wooden hold.

Lyc.
Content.

Ago.
Let's in then, uncle,
And celebrate this feast with jollity,
For our success, and for the Pandar's ruin.