University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter TOXILUS and SAGARISTIO at a distance.
TOXILUS.
When first a poor man steps into the path
Of love, he must worse labours undertake
Than Hercules—For I would sooner fight
The hydra, lion, and Ætolian boar,
The Erymanthian stag, Stymphalian birds,
Or with Antæus wrestle, than contend
With love—Why what a miserable wretch
Am I, with only hunting after money?
All whom I ask, no other answer give
Than, no.—

Sag.
[apart.]
The slave, who faithfully would serve
His master, on my word must treasure up
A mass of things, which he may think will please him,
Both when he is at home, and when abroad—
I cannot say, with chearfulness I serve him,
Nor do I hit my master to a hair—
And yet, he can no more forbear to leave
With me his orders, and make me the prop
Of his affairs, than keep his hands from off
His itching eye—Who's this stands opposite?

[seeing Toxilus.
Tox.
And who is this stands opposite to me?
He seems like Sagaristio.—

Sag.
—'Tis Toxilus,
My friend.—

Tox.
—'Tis he indeed—

Sag.
I really think 'tis he—

Tox.
I'll join him—

Sag.
I'll up to him—

Tox.
Sagaristio!
May the gods love you!

Sag.
May they grant you, Toxilus,
All that you wish!—How fare you?

Tox.
As I can.

Sag.
What do you?

Tox.
Live.—

Sag.
But is it as you like?

Tox.
Ay, when I have my wishes, well enough—

Sag.
You use your friends imprudently—

Tox.
How so?—

Sag.
You give them no commands—

Tox.
Why, 'troth you are
Already dead to me—I have not seen you.

Sag.
I've been engag'd—

Tox.
In the iron trade perhaps—

Sag.
Ay, and above this half year have been chain'd to't,
A vapulary tribune at the mills—

Tox.
Why that's your old campaign—

Sag.
Have you been well?

Tox.
Indifferent—

Sag.
What makes you look so pale?

Tox.
In battle I've receiv'd a dang'rous wound,
The god of love has pierc'd me through the heart.

Sag.
Do slaves presume to love?

Tox.
What should I do?
Resist the gods, and Titan like, 'gainst heav'n
Make war, and such unequal battle try?

Sag.
Take care the elm twig darts don't pierce your sides.

Tox.
I celebrate a feast of liberty,
And royally—

Sag.
How so?—

Tox.
My master's gone
Abroad—

Sag.
Ay, say you so?—What, gone abroad?

Tox.
If you can bear a jovial life, come, live
With me—I'll treat you like a prince—

Sag.
Out on't!
You make my shoulders itch to hear you talk so—

Tox.
But there is one thing tortures me—

Sag.
What's that?

Tox.
This very day's the last, that does for ever
My fair one's servitude or freedom fix.

Sag.
And what with me?

Tox.
Make me your friend for ever.

Sag.
As how?—

Tox.
Why lend me but six hundred pieces,
Only to buy her freedom, and the money
In three or four days' time, I will return.
If you're good natur'd, do in this assist me,

Sag.
Sauce-box! with what assurance dare you ask
So great a sum of me?—Was I to sell
Myself, I scarce could raise what you ask of me:
Would you squeeze water from a pumice stone,
The driest thing on earth!—

Tox.
And ought you then
To use me thus?

Sag.
Why, what is't I should do?

Tox.
Ask you that question?—Borrow it from somebody—

Sag.
That you may do your self—

Tox.
Why I have tried,
But can't succeed.

Sag.
I'll try, if any one
Will give me credit—

Tox.
You have means abroad—

Sag.
Was it at home, I'd promis'd you before.
But I'll take care to do my best, as 'tis.

Tox.
Come what come may, come home to me—

Sag.
But be
Upon the hunt yourself—I'll be the same;
And carefully will let you know how things
Turn out—

Tox.
I beg you, oe'r and o'er again
I beg you, to be true to me in this—

Sag.
You teize me with your importunity—

Tox.
It is the fault of love, it is not mine
If now I talk so foolishly—

Sag.
I'll leave you—

Tox.
What! are you going?—

Sag.
A good walk to you!
Return as soon as possible I beg you—
Nor let me have to seek you—I shall be
At home entirely, till I've cook'd a plot,
Against the pandar, master of my love.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II.

Enter SATURIO, the Parasite—
Sat.
The old and ancient trade of parasites,
I practice, study, and pursue with care—
Nor ever had I any ancestor,
But stuff'd his paunch, by fawning for a dinner.
My father, grandfather, great grandfather,
His father, grandfather, great grandfather,
Like mice they liv'd on victuals not their own,
And never were in gluttony exceeded—
From hence it was we got the name of hard-heads.
Their trade I follow, and fill up the place,
The station of my ancestors—Besides,
I would not turn informer—And I think
There is no credit in it, to obtain
Another's goods, and run no risk one's self—
Nor am I pleas'd with those who do—I speak
My mind—And he, who for the publick good
Informs, and not for private ends, I could
Persuade myself is a good man and true.
He who convicts a breaker of the laws,
Let him pay half his gains unto the publick.
Moreover, be't enacted in my law,
Whene'er to gain a fourth a man informs,
Let him be bound to pay to the accused
So much, if he should fail in proof, that both
May go before the judge on equal terms.
Was this a law in force we should not see
The white net spread to take our neighbour's goods.
But am I not a fool to regulate
The commonwealth?—When there are magistrates
Whose proper duty 'tis—Well—Now I'll in,
And visit the remains of last night's supper—
See if they've rested well or not—And whether
They have been fev'rish, or cover'd close—
That no one may have snap'd a bit—But see!
The doors are opening; I must stay my progress.

SCENE III.

Enter TOXILUS.
Tox.
Yes, I have hit upon the very thing,
How I may make the pandar buy to day,
With his own cash, his own slave's liberty—
But see the parasite, whose help I want—
I'll make pretence as if I did not see him,
So draw him on—Mind you those things—Be brisk—
[to the slaves within.]
Lest ought be unprepar'd when I return,
Mix the sweet wine—Get myrrh and quinces ready—
Let them be warm'd together o'er the fire—
Throw in besides the aromatick reed—
For I expect my pot companion here.—

Sat.
[apart.]
O brave!—Well said—I am the man he means—

Tox.
For he'll return from bathing presently.

Sat.
[apart.]
What care he takes to have all things in order!

Tox.
See that the buns and biscuits be well done,
Serve them not up undress'd—

Sat.
[apart.]
He speaks the thing!
They're good for nought unless you eat them dress'd.
Nor are the sauces good, but when the spoon
Will stand an end—I hate your thin, clear slops
Tinctur'd with saffron—I like my sauce thick,
Stiff as a jelly—That which I should eat,
I would not drink—

Tox.
Some one is talking here,
I know not who—

Sat.
O my terrestrial Jove!
Your guest salutes you—

Tox.
You have nick'd the time,
Saturio—

Sat.
Now by Pollux! that's a fib
And misbecomes you mightily—for 'troth
I come Hungurio, not Saturio hither—

Tox.
But you shall eat—The dainties smoak within—
I've order'd last night's remnants to be warm'd—

Sat.
A ham is better cold the second day—

Tox.
So have I order'd it to be serv'd up.

Sat.
Hast any ketchup?

Tox.
Psha! Psha!—Ask you that?

Sat.
Nay, you're a man of taste.

Tox.
Don't you remember
The thing I mention'd yesterday—

Sat.
Quite well—
The conger eel should not be warm'd again,
Nor lamprey—both are eaten better cold.
Why do we loiter?—Let's begin the attack—
The morning is the time all men should eat—

Tox.
'Tis sure too early in the day—

Sat.
In general
What in the morning you begin, employs
The day—

Tox.
I beg your serious attention.
But yesterday, I had some talk with you—
And earnestly begg'd of you, that you'd lend me
Six hundred pieces, which I had a use for.

Sat.
I well remember it—And know you ask'd,
And that I had not wherewithal to lend it—
What sort of parasite is he, I pray,
Who has his money in his chest at home?
Had he wherewith at home to make a feast,
He'd cram and stuff his guts immediately.
A Parasite in truth should be a Cynic.
A jug, a strigil, drinking cup, and socks,
A cloak and purse, with just enough to serve
In cases of necessity, is all
He ought to have.—

Tox,
I now don't want your money—
Let me, instead of money, have your daughter—

Sat.
By Pollux' temple! I don't let my daughter—

Tox.
I mean not for the purpose you insinuate—

Sat.
Why, what is't then you want her for—

Tox.
I'll tell you.
She's a genteel smart figure—

Sat.
Yes, she is so—

Tox.
This pandar knows you not, nor yet your daughter—

Sat.
There's none know me, but those who entertain me.

Tox.
That's true—By this means, you may raise me cash.

Sat.
I wish I could—

Tox.
Then let me sell your daughter.

Sat.
You sell her?—

Tox.
No, not I—I will depute
Some other in my stead, who shall pretend
To be a foreigner, and he shall sell her—
'Tis not six months ago, that he, the pandar,
Remov'd from Megaris—

Sat.
The cookery spoils—
This may be done another time—

Tox.
But how?
You shall not eat a morsel—Nay depend on't,
Till you engage to do the thing I ask.
As soon as possible, unless you bring
Your daughter here, by Herc'les, I'll cashier you.
What now!—Why don't you tell me what you'll do?

Sat.
'Troth if you have a mind to't, sell me too,
So you'll but sell me with my stomach full.

Tox.
If you will do it, do it—

Sat.
I will do
Just what you please—

Tox.
That's kind—Make haste—Hie home—
Tutor your daughter cunningly; and give her
Her cue with art—How she may frame her story—
Where she may say she had her birth—Who were
Her parents, and the place whence she was stolen—
Let her suppose, tho', it was far from Athens—
Where she was born—And all the while she tells
Her story, let her feign a flood of tears—

Sat.
What! han't you said enough?—She's three times worse
Than even you could wish her.

Tox.
That's well said—
But do you know what 'tis I'd have you do?
You must provide a tunick and a girdle,
And bring a broad brim'd hat, and soldier's cloak
To dress him in, who is to sell your daughter.

Sat.
Excellent this!

Tox.
As if he was a foreigner.

Sat.
I praise your scheme—

Tox.
Do you then bring your daughter,
Quaintly dress'd out, and in some foreign fashion.

Sat.
But whence intend you to procure the habit?

Tox.
Why, from the master of the wardrobe—'Tis
His business to accommodate the actors—
The Ædiles for that purpose plac'd him there.

Sat.
Well, I'll take care to bring them here immediately,
But I am to know nothing of the matter.

Tox.
No, not a syllable—As soon as e'er
I have receiv'd the money she is sold for,
You will directly claim her of the pandar—

Sat.
If I don't bear her off immediately,
Why let him keep her—

Tox.
Go, and mind your business—
[Exit Saturio.
Meanwhile, I'll to my love dispatch the boy—
Bid her take heart—And tell her I shall finish
Th'affair to day—I prattle here too long.—

[Exit.