University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter CHRYSALUS.
CHRYSALUS.
All hail! my master's native soil! whom I,
After a tedious two years absence hence
At Ephesus, most joyfully behold.—
To thee who dwellest near our town, all hail!
To thee, Apollo, to thy deity
I make my prayer, that I may'nt chance to meet
Old Nicobulus here, before I see
My master's friend and crony Pistoclerus;
To whom, about his flame, this Bacchis here,
Mnesilochus, his friend has sent a letter.

SCENE II.

Enter PISTOCLERUS.
Pis.
[to 1 Bacchis within.]
'Tis strange you should request me to return
So pressingly—I can't stir from you if
I would, you have me so engag'd, so chain'd
By love—

Chry.
Immortal gods! here's Pistoclerus—
Hail to you, Pistoclerus.

Pis.
Hail to Chrysalus!

Chry.
I'll save you many speeches, Pistoclerus—
You're glad I'm safe arriv'd, I know you are.
You promise me a lodging and a supper,
To welcome my return—I nod assent.
I bring you from your friend sincere respects.
Ask you me where he is?

Pis.
Lives he, and is
He well?

Chry.
That question I must ask of you.

Pis.
How should I know?

Chry.
None better—

Pis.
And how so?

Chry.
For if his love is found, he is alive,
And well—If not, he's sick, and near his end.
A mistress is a lover's life and soul—
He's a meer nothing when she is away—
And if she's with him, his estate will be
As meer a nothing just, and he himself
An inconsiderate wretch—What have you done
In our affair?—

Pis.
What!—Shall I not perform
'Gainst his return his orders, sent me by
His messenger?—I'd sooner dwell upon
The banks of Acheruns.

Chry.
Pray you, have you then
Found out this Bacchis?

Pis.
Yes, the Samian Bacchis.

Chry.
Prithee take care you handle her with caution.
You know how brittle Samian vessels are—

Pis.
What! at your old sport?—

Chry.
Say, where is she now?

Pis.
Here, at this house, from whence you saw me come.

Chry.
Nice that indeed—She lives almost next door.
And talks she of Mnesilochus?

Pis.
D'you ask?
Nay, he's her man of men, the only man
She prizes—

Chry.
Excellent!

Pis.
Nay, she's as much
Distress'd for him, as he for her—

Chry.
That's good.

Pis.
Nay, Chrysalus, look here, there's not so small
A point of time as this, she e'er omits
To talk of him—

Chry.
So much the better, Bacchis—

Pis.
Nay—

Chry.
Nay! By Hercules! I'll get me gone—

Pis.
Goes it against the grain, to hear how well
Your master's business has succeeded?—

Chry.
No—
'Tis the relator gives me such offence—
Tho' as myself I love Epidicus,
No Play disgusts me more, when Pellio acts
The part—Is Bacchis handsome?

Pis.
Do you ask?
Had I not got a Venus, I should say
She is a Juno.—

Chry.
Well, Mnesilochus,
As things go on, I find here's for your love
A mistress ready—And for this your mistress
Some money must be had—You want some gold?

Pis.
Some Philippæans—

Chry.
And you want it now,
Perhaps?

Pis.
Ay, and before—For there's a Captain coming.

Chry.
A Captain truly!

Pis.
Yes—One who demands
A sum of money to relinquish Bacchis.

Chry.
So he delays me not, why let him come
Whene'er he will—The money is at home—
I fear him not—Nor will I ever sue
To any man, while my own heart is arm'd
With treachery—I'll manage here—Go in—
And say, Mnesilochus will soon see Bacchis—

Pis.
I will.
[Exit Pis.

Chry.
As to the money business, that
Belongs to me—From Ephesus we've brought
Twelve hundred golden Philippæans—All,
A debt to our old master from his host.
Hence a contrivance I'll contrive to-day,
How to procure some money for my master—
But our door creeks—Who's this is coming out?

SCENE III.

Enter NICOBULUS.
Nic.
To the Piræus will I go, and see
If any merchant-man's arriv'd in port,
From Ephesus—My mind misgives me sore,
My son has loiter'd there so long, and not
Return'd—

Chry.
I'll pick to pieces this old chap,
An't please the gods! now fairly thread by thread—
Money is wanting. Chrysalus, no sleeping—
I'll go to him, whom I intend to make
Phrixus's ram to-day—For of his gold
I'll shear him to the quick—The servant Chrysalus
Greets Nicobulus—

Nic.
O immortal gods!
Where is my son?—Say Chrysalus.

Chry.
Why don't you
Return my salutation first?

Nic.
Well! Save you!
But where's Mnesilochus?

Chry.
He is alive,
And well—

Nic.
Is he not come?

Chry.
He is—

Nic.
Huzza!
My mind's at ease—Has he enjoy'd good health?

Chry.
Robust and vigorous.—

Nic.
But as to the affair
I sent him hence to Ephesus about—
Has he receiv'd the gold of Archidemides,
My host?

Chry.
Alas! my very heart and brain
Are cleft, whene'er I hear that fellow nam'd.
Ah! do not call your enemy your host.

Nic.
Why so, I pray?

Chry.
Because, I'm very sure
Four gods, the sun, the fire, the moon, the day,
Have never shone upon a viler rascal—

Nic.
Than Archidemides—

Chry.
Why, yes I say,
Than Archidemides—

Nic.
What has he done?

Chry.
What has he not done?—Why not ask you that?
At first he boggled with your son, and then
Declar'd he ow'd you not a single groat—
Mnesilochus then summon'd instantly
Our antient host, old Pelago—In his presence
Your son produc'd the token you had sent
By him, to give to Archidemides.

Nic.
Well, when he shew'd the token—

Chry.
He began
To say 'twas counterfeit, and not that token.
Oh! how did he abuse the innocent!
And said, he had counterfeited other things.

Nic.
Has he the gold?—That's what I first would know.

Chry.
Well, as the Prætor had appointed delegates,
He at the last was cast—And being compell'd
By force, paid down twelve hundred Philippæans.

Nic.
Just what he ow'd—

Chry.
Further; now hear besides
Another stratagem he had prepar'd—

Nic.
Is there aught else?

Chry.
Mind ye—There will be three
In all—

Nic.
I am deceiv'd—I have intrusted
To an Autolycus, a thievish host,
My gold—

Chry.
Nay, hear me but—

Nic.
I never knew
The greedy disposition of my host—

Chry.
Well, when the money we had receiv'd, desirous
To be at home, we went on board a ship.
As I by chance was sitting on the deck,
And prying round about, I spy'd a bark,
A long one, well mann'd too, and fitted out
It seem'd to no good purpose—

Nic.
I'm undone!
This bark goes to my heart—

Chry.
The vessel was
Between some pirates, and your host in partnership.

Nic.
How could I such an ideot be, to trust
This fellow, when his very name cry'd out
That Archidemides would be arch enough
To keep my money—

Chry.
For our ship, this bark
Was watching—I began to watch their motions.
Mean time, out of the port we sail'd, which when
We'd clear'd, they instant follow'd with their oars
Swift as the swallow, or the swifter winds.
Now as I found what scheme they were upon,
We drop'd our anchor—When they saw us stop
They mov'd their vessel round and round in port.

Nic.
The wicked wretches!—Well, what did you then?

Chry.
Back we return'd to port.

Nic.
'Twas wisely done.
And how behav'd they afterwards?

Chry.
They went
On shore towards night—

Nic.
Ay, ay, to seize the gold,
Was their intent—That was their scheme, by Hercules!

Chry.
Ay, I discern'd it; I was not deceiv'd,
And therefore terrified almost to death—
When for the gold we found a plot was laid,
We held immediately a council on it;
And publickly, next day before their faces,
That they might see it done, bore off the gold—

Nic.
Well done, by Hercules! Say then, what did they?

Chry.
Crest fallen quite, when with the gold they saw us
Leaving the harbour, strait they shook their heads,
And haul'd their bark on shore—The gold, we with
Theotimus deposited, a priest
Of the Ephesian Dian.

Nic.
And who is
That same Theotimus?—

Chry.
An eunuch priest
Who lives at Ephesus, and to the Ephesians
A man most dear—

Nic.
By Hercules! I wish
He turn not out a man more dear to me;
If he should cozen me of such a sum.

Chry.
'Tis in Diana's temple safely stow'd.
There is a publick guard—

Nic.
That hurts me sorely.
'Twould have been safer here in private keeping,
But have you brought none of the money home?

Chry.
Yes sure.—How much he brought, I do not know!

Nic.
How's that—Not know!

Chry.
Why 'tis, because my master
Went to Theotimus at night by stealth—
And neither me, nor any of the crew
Would with the secret trust—And that's the cause
I do not know how little 'twas he brought.
But 'twas not much—

Nic.
D'you think that it was half?

Chry.
In troth I know not; but think scarce so much.

Nic.
Was it a third?

Chry.
I don't conceive it was—
But in good truth I do not know—And troth,
The whole about the money that I know,
Is only this, I nothing know about it.
Now you must take a voyage then by sea,
And fetch the gold home from Theotimus.
And, hark ye—

Nic.
What would'st have?

Chry.
Do not forget
To carry your son's ring—

Nic.
What need of that?

Chry.
Because it is the token; and who brings it
Will from Theotimus receive the gold.

Nic.
I'll not forget it—You advise me well.
But is Theotimus a man of property?

Chry.
What! ask you that?—His shoes are elasp'd with gold—

Nic.
And why so proud?—

Chry.
His wealth is so immense,
He cannot find out ways and means, to spend it.

Nic.
Would he would give it me!—But in whose presence
Was it deliver'd to Theotimus?

Chry.
In presence of the people—Not a man
In Ephesus but knew it—

Nic.
There at least
My son was wise, thus to intrust my gold
To the safe keeping of a man so rich.
From him it may be had upon demand.

Chry.
Yes, yes, look here—He'll not delay you this—
You may the very day you come receive it.

Nic.
I thought I had escap'd the sea for life,
And, as I'm now grown old, I should have sail'd
No more—Whether I will or no, I find
I must, my pretty Archidemides.
'Tis my fine host, has done me this good turn.
But where is now my son Mnesilochus?

Chry.
Gone to the Forum, his devoirs to pay
Both to the gods and to his friends—

Nic.
And I'll
Go hence, and meet him with what speed I may.

[Exit.
Chry.
The man's well loaded, and besides has got
More than his burden—My work's in the loom,
In order to enrich my master's son.
The lover I have manag'd so, that he
Just what he pleases of the gold may take,
And to his father what he will, return.
Th'old man, to fetch the gold, will sail to Ephesus.
We, in the interim shall live deliciously.
For he will leave Mnesilochus and me
Behind—O, what a racket shall I make here!
But what will be the case, when our old man
Discovers this, and finds he has been sent
Upon a wild-goose chace?—and that we've fool'd
Away his gold?—What will become of me
When he returns?—I think he'll change my name,
And make it more like gallows than like gold.
Should it my purpose answer best, by Hercules!
I'll run away—Should I be caught again,
He yet will suffer not a little by it.
His rods are in the fields, my back's at home.
Well, I'll now in—Lay open to my master
This plot about the gold—And then inform him
His mistress Bacchis is discovered—

Exit.