University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter LYDUS from BACCHIS's house.
LYDUS.
Quick, open, open wide this gate of hell;
For I in truth can count it nothing less.
No one comes here, but who has lost all hope
Of being good—Bacchises! No! Not Bacchises,
But Bacchants perilous—Avaunt! these sisters,
Who swallow human blood! The house is richly,
And plentifully furnish'd—for destruction.
I took directly to my heels, as soon
As I beheld these things—Shall I conceal
Such doings?—Pistoclerus, shall I hide,
Hide from your father, these your idle haunts,
Flagitious crimes, debaucheries and ruin?
On shame, disgrace, and ruin you would run,
And wreck us all, yourself, your father, me,
And all your friends at once—You have no awe
Within your breast or of yourself, or me.
For these misdeeds, your father, I, your friends,
Relations all, by this your infamy,
Must bear the weight and burthen of disgrace.
Now, ere you add this mischief to the rest,
I am determin'd strait to tell your father;
So from myself shall I remove the blame.
I'll to the old man open this affair,
That he may fetch him from this mud and dirt.
[Exit Lydus.

SCENE II.

Enter MNESILOCHUS.
Mne.
I've turn'd it in my thoughts in various shapes,
And this is the result—A friend who is
A friend, such as the name imports, the gods
Except, nothing excells—And this in fact
Have I experienc'd—For when I went hence
To Ephesus, almost two years ago,
From thence I letters hither sent express
To my old friend and crony, Pistoclerus,
Desiring him to find out my dear Bacchis.
I understand he has discover'd her,
As Chrysalus, my slave, has just now told me.
He too, against my father, for the gold
A clean device has schem'd; that I, a lover,
May plenty have—'Tis just to make return.
By Pollux! nothing is, in my opinion,
So vile and base as an ungrateful man.
Better it is to let a thief escape,
Than that a generous friend should be forsaken.
And better 'tis to be extravagant,
Than call'd ungrateful—That good men will praise,
The latter, even bad men will condemn.
On this account must I take greater heed;
And be the more upon my guard—Now, now,
Mnesilochus, a sample will be seen;
A proof will soon appear, whether you are
Or are not what you ought to be—Or good,
Or bad—What kind you're of, or just, or unjust—
Penurious, or liberal—Complying,
Or not complying—See you suffer not
A slave to conquer you in doing well.
Be what you will, I warn you, 'twill be known.
But see, my crony's master and his father
Are coming hither—Hence, I will observe
What 'tis they are about—

[retires apart.

SCENE III.

Enter LYDUS and PHILOXENUS.
Lyd.
Now will I try
If you have any spirit of resentment—
Follow me—

Phil.
Whither?—Where do you lead me now?

Lyd.
To her who has undone, who has destroy'd
Your only son—

Phil.
Lydus, fie! fie! Those who
Their passion moderate, are deem'd the wiser—
Less strange it is, that age should do such things
Than not—I did the same when I was young.

Lyd.
Alack! alack-aday!—To his destruction
You humour him—Had it not been for you,
I should have had him well inclin'd to virtue.
Relying now on you, and your indulgence
Your Pistoclerus is become abandon'd.

Mne.
[aside.]
Good gods!—He names my friend—What can this mean?
Why does he rail at Pistoclerus thus?—

Phil.
Lydus, it is not for a length of time
A youth desires to indulge his inclinations.
The hour is near when he will hate himself.
Give him the reins:—so he takes care, against
The rule of right and wrong not to offend,
E'en suffer him—

Lyd.
I will not suffer him—
Nor shall he be corrupted while I live.
But you, who plead thus for your son's debaucheries
So well, was this your custom in your youth?
For your first twenty years, I do assert
You had not liberty to set your foot
A finger's breadth abroad, and your attendant
Absent—And had you not, before the sun
Was up, attended the academy,
You would have suffer'd condign punishment.
When that's the case, the mischief is not single—
The tutor and the pupil, both will lose
Their characters—The course, the ball, the pike,
The quoit—In boxing, dancing, wrestling—These
These were their exercises; and not wenching,
And kissing girls—In these they spent their time,
And not in secret lurking holes and corners.
When from the course and place of exercise,
You home return'd, girt with your narrow belt,
Down by your tutor on a form you sat,
And read your book—And had you miss'd a syllable,
Your skin had had as many spots upon it,
As had your nurse's robe—

Mne.
[aside.]
I'm vex'd at heart,
My friend, on my account, should be ill spoke of;
And, for my sake, a man quite innocent,
Should be suspected—

Phil.
Lydus, now our manners
Are alter'd quite—

Lyd.
Full well, I know they are.
The time has been, sir, when they did obey
Their governors, till such time they were chosen
Into some publick office in the state.
Scarce seven years old, but touch them with your hand,
The brat even in the instant, with his tablet
Breaks his attendant's head—When to complain
You go, what says the father?—This—
Be thou my n'own dear boy, since thou can'st thus
An injury repel—Th'attendant's call'd—
So ho! old good for nought!—on this account
Touch not my boy, since he in this has shewn
So stout a heart—Away I say, be gone!
The tutor sneaks away despis'd, and like
An oil'd cloth lantern, with his plaister'd pate
Goes off condemn'd—How can a tutor then,
By means like these, keep his authority,
When he himself receives the lash?—

Mne.
[apart.]
In troth
This accusation is severe—By what
This Lydus says, if he has never felt
The weight of Pistoclerus' fist, 'tis strange—

Phil.
Who's this I see, standing before the door?

Lyd.
Philoxenus—

[addressing himself to him.
Mne.
[apart.]
I'd rather be by gods
Propitious seen, than him—

Phil.
Who is that, there?

Lyd.
'Tis your son Pistoclerus' friend and crony
Mnesilochus; but of a different turn
From him who lives in brothels—Nicobulus,
O happy man, who such a son begot!—

Phil.
Mnesilochus, all hail!—I joy to see you
Return'd in safety—

Mne.
Heavens bless Philoxenus!

Lyd.
He for his father in a lucky hour
Was born—He braves the sea; regards
The family estate, the house takes care of—
With all his father's humours he complies,
And his commands obeys—Our Pistoclerus
And he have from their boyish years been cronies.
There is not three days difference in their age;
But in their manners, more than thirty years.—

Phil.
Beware a mischief, and restrain your tongue—

Lyd.
Peace! you're a fool—It is not that I fear.
Whose deeds are ill, should ill be spoken of.
For my misfortunes, I had rather he
Would draw on me, than for my property—

Phil.
How so?

Lyd.
Because he'd daily make them less.

Mne.
Why, Lydus, do you chide my friend, your pupil?

Lyd.
Your friend is lost to you—

Mne.
Pray, heaven forbid!

Lyd.
'Tis as I say—I saw it with my eyes.

Mne.
What has he done!

Lyd.
He passionately doats on
A wanton strumpet—

Mne.
Won't you hold your tongue?

Lyd.
She's one, that ruins whomsoe'er she touches—

Mne.
Where does she live?

Lyd.
Why here—

Mne.
Whence do they say
She comes?

Lyd.
From Samos—

Mne.
What's her name?

Lyd.
'Tis Bacchis.

Mne.
Lydus, you do mistake—The whole affair
I know, and how it is—My Pistoclerus
Is innocent, and falsely you accuse him—
The orders of his true and faithful friend
With diligence and care he has perform'd—
He's not in love—Do not believe he is.

Lyd.
To execute the orders of his friend
Was this the way?—To set upon his lap
A girl to kiss him?—By no other means,
Could these his orders be obey'd by him,
But ever and anon to lay his hand
Upon her breast; and without intermission
Join lip to lip?—That which I saw him do
Before my face, I am asham'd to say—
But he's asham'd of nothing—Sir, in few,
You have your friend, and I my pupil lost—
Philoxenus has also lost his son—
For him I reckon lost, who's lost to shame.
To say no more, had I staid somewhat longer,
An opportunity more fair had offer'd
Of viewing him—And sure, I then had seen
More than was fit—More than I ought to see,
Or he to do—

Mne.
[aside.]
My friend, thou hast undone me.
Shall I not brain this jade?—And may I perish,
If I don't do't—Is't come to this? One knows not
Whom to confide in, where to find a man
Of faith and truth—

Lyd.
Observe, how ill he bears
To hear his friend your son is so debauch'd—
It grieves his very soul—

Phil.
Let me intreat you,
Mnesilochus, his disposition guide,
His passions regulate—To me, a son,
And to yourself a friend preserve—

Mne.
I wish it.

Phil.
The whole then of this burthen I assign
To you—Follow me this way— [to Lydus.]


Lyd.
Sir, I follow—
But you had better leave me too behind.

Phil.
[to Lydus.]
Enough in conscience—Watch and rate him soundly. [to Mnesilochus.]

For you, and me, and all his friends, Mnesilochus,
He, by his shameful deeds, has brought to shame.

[Exeunt Philoxenus and Lydus.

SCENE IV.

MNESILOCHUS alone.
Mne.
And now, whether my mistress, or my crony
Is most my friend, as yet I am in doubt.
Is he her choice?—'Tis best to let her have him—
To her own loss it is, as well as mine,
That she has acted thus—With holy things
Let me be never trusted, if I make not
A manifest example—For I love her—
She shall not say, that she has found a man
To make a fool of—Now will I go home,
And try to pilfer something from my father;
And, as a present give it her—I'll be
In many ways reveng'd—And to such straits
I'll drive her so extremely, that my father
Shall beg an alms—But am I in my wits,
Who in this manner prate of things to come?
'Tis my opinion, I'm in love; because
I know I am—But I had rather be
The poorest beggar in the streets, than she
Should be the filing of a pin the heavier
For ought that I shall give her—Never, while
She lives, shall she make me her laughing-stock—
Now, the whole money I'm resolv'd to pay
My father—Upon me then pennyless
And needy shall she fawn—But thence, no more
Advantage shall she ever reap, than if
A dead man in his tomb, she with her jokes
Would entertain—I will be sooner starv'd
To death, than she shall ever be a whit
More pursy, or more fat, for any wealth
Of mine—'Tis fix'd the money to restore—
At the same time, my father I'll intreat
To spare poor Chrysalus, on my account,
And not be angry for the gold, which he
Has trick'd him of—His interest to consult
It is but right, who meerly for my sake
The fraud invented—Do you follow me— [to an attendant.]

[Exit Mnesilochus.

SCENE V.

Enter PISTOCLERUS, from BACCHIS's house.
Pist.
All other business, Bacchis, I postpone,
[speaking to her as he comes out.
Your orders to obey; that I may find
Mnesilochus, and bring him with me hither—
But if my messenger's arriv'd, I wonder
What 'tis delays him—I'll go in and see,
If he's by chance at home—

SCENE VI.

Enter MNESILOCHUS at some distance.
Mne.
So—all the money
I've paid back to my father—Now I'm pennyless,
I should be glad to meet this scornful girl.
How hard it was to gain for Chrysalus
A pardon from my father—But at length
I have succeeded, and his passion's calm'd.

Pist.
And is not this my friend? [apart.]


Mne.
And is not this [apart.]

My foe, I see?

Pist.
I'm sure 'tis he—

Mne.
'Tis he.

Pist.
I'll go up to him then—

Mne.
I'll mend my pace.

Pist.
All hail! Mnesilochus!

Mne.
All hail to you!

Pist.
We'll on your safe arrival give a supper.

Mne.
Supper I relish not which raises choler—

Pist.
How's that?—Since your arrival have you met
Any vexation?—

Mne.
Yes, a dreadful one.

Pist.
From whence?

Mne.
From whence?—Why, from a man
Whom I accounted heretofore my friend—

Pist.
Many there are, of life and manners such,
Who, when you think them friends, are found most false;
In promises profuse; in deeds as sparing,
Of faith infirm.—Not one, but envies those
Whom fortune prospers:—by their indolence,
They take good care all envy to escape—

Mne.
You're perfectly acquainted with their manners.
Farther—This one misfortune still attends
Their evil disposition; all mankind's
Their enemy, nor have they any friends.
Others, like fools, they think they have deceiv'd,
When they're deceiv'd themselves—So is this man,
Whom I suppos'd as much a friend to me,
As I am to myself—Great pains he has taken
To do me all the mischief in his power;
And my own forces all to turn against me.

Pist.
He must be a bad man.

Mne.
I think him so.

Pist.
I beg you would inform me who he is.

Mne.
Your friend—For was he not, I should intreat
You'd do him all the harm you could.

Pist.
Let me
But know the man, if by some means I don't
Revenge you of him, say I am a coward.

Mne.
He's a bad man, but is your friend, by Hercules!

Pist.
The rather therefore, tell me who he is?
I set no value on a knave's good will.

Mne.
I must then tell his name—I can't avoid it.
O Pistoclerus! you have quite undone
Me your old crony, and your friend—

Pist.
How's this?

Mne.
How's this?—Did I not write to you from Ephesus,
About my love, that you should find her out?

Pist.
I own you did; and I've discover'd her.

Mne.
Were there no other courtezans in Athens
With whom you might engage, but only her,
Whom I had recommended to your care?
You fell in love with her yourself, and ill
My interest consulted—

Pist.
Is your head right?

Mne.
Deny it not—Your tutor has disclos'd
The whole affair—You've ruin'd me.

Pist.
What still
Provoke me with upbraiding—

Mne.
Is it Bacchis
You are in love with?

Pist.
Why, two of that name
Are here within—

Mne.
How! two?

Pist.
And both are sisters.

Mne.
You tell me idle stories with design.

Pist.
If you persist to disbelieve my tale,
I'll hoist you on my back, and take you in
By force—

Mne.
Stay but a moment and I'll go.

Pist.
That's what I will not do—Nor yet shall you
Suspect me falsely—

Mne.
Then I'll follow you.

[Exeunt.