ANDRIA The first Comoedie of Terence, in English.
A furtherance for the attainment vnto the right knowledge, & true proprietie, of the Latin Tong. And also a commodious meane of help, to such as [...]ue forgotten Latin, for their speedy recouering of habilitie, to vnderstand, write, and speake the same.
Carefully translated out of Latin, by Maurice Kyffin.
Comoedia, Imitatio Vitae: Speculum Consuetudinis: Imago Veritatis.
Printed at London by T.E. for Thomas Woodcocke, at the Signe of the black Beare in Paules Churchyard. 1588.
M Kyffin
‘INVITA INVIDIA’In M. Kyffini Andriam.
In Andriam a M. Kyffino Angl. donatam.
Eiusdem in Zoylum.
In Andriam Anglicè a M. Kyffino conuersam. G. Camdeni Tetrastichon.
In amiciss, sui, M. Kyffini Andriam, Petri Bizari Carmen.
R. Cooke to the Readers of Mr. Kyffins Translation.
TO THE RIGHT WOORSHIPFVLL, AND woorthy gentleman, Maister VVilliam Sackeuille, sonne to the Right honorable (my verie good L. and Maister) The Lord Buckhurst, one of her Maiesties most honorable priuie Councell.
SIR, by intermission of your noble exercises in feats of Armes, and your studious endeuor emploied in forrein tongs: I must needes craue at your hands, to vouchsafe some spare tyme (for your recreation) in the interteinment of your old acquaintance Pub. Terē tius: whom I here present vnto you, in such and so much, English attire, as my poore iudgement found fittest for him to be clad withall.
Whyle he liued at Rome, his most company, and conuersation, was among the Nobilitie, and most of al other, with those twoo noble and learned gentlemen, Laelius, and Scipio Africane: In like sort, after his death, his woorks were right currantly accounted of, and highly commended, by the two Princes of eloquence, euen Caesar, [Page] and Cicero: as their own vvritings do witnes the same vnto vs. Therefore, sith Terence, neither aliue, nor dead, did euer vvant a noble Moecenas to protect him: I hope that novv, being partly put into english, & hauing cheefly chosen you for his Patrone in Englād: you likevvise, in regard of your noble birth, & vertues, wil graunt him like curteous & frendly fauour, as by these noble men in Rome, vvas heretofore affoorded vnto him. I trust also he shal be neuer the vvoorse vvelcome vnto you, in that he is diligently attended on, vvith my poore name: & like as my first attempt to translate him, proceeded cheefly frō you, so look I that my labour spēt on him, shal be fauorablie protected by your vvhich to me vvill bee a thing much comfortable, & to you nothing cūbersome. And so, fully resting, & relying my selfe on your vvonted curtesies, I here make an end: & besech the almighty, stil to increase & accōplish, those his good gifts & graces, vvhich he hath placed in you most shining & apparant.
TO THE RIGHT WOORSHIPFVL GENTLEmen, maister Henry, and maister Thomas Sackeuille, sonnes to the Right Honorable the Lord Buckhurst (one of her Maiesties most honorable Priuie Councell,) Maurice Kyffin wisheth all health, and happines.
IT is now full. 7. yeeres (as you can well remēber) since I first attempted the translation of Andria into English verse, being thereto partely incited by your meanes: But afterward perceiuing what difficultie it was, to enforce the pithie and prouerbiall sayings of Terence into Rime, and withall what inconuenience grew, by reason of diuers seuerall Speakers, sometime seuerally happening, within the length of one line or lesse: I playnely saw, that such manner of forced translation, must needs be both harsh and vnpleasāt to the Reader, and also not halfe seemly besitting the sweete style and eloquence of the Author. So as hauing thus translated the whole Comoedie in verse (sauing the two last leaues) my paines bestowed therein did somuch mislike me, as that euer sithens yt lay by me, vtterly neglectted, and neuer fully finished: Tyll that now of late, being by some, much requested to make common the same, for the benefit of such as studie the latin: I haue therevpon somwhat altered my cours, and indeuored to turne it into prose, as a thing of lesse labour in show, [Page] and more libertie in substance, seeming withall, most accordant, with this Comicall kinde of writing. And bicause I am not ignorant, with what ardent loue, and liking, you haue alwaies, most studiouslie embraced all good Authors: (being of your selues, euen naturally inclined, to all learning and knowledge:) I cannot therfore, but recomēd to your fauour, this peece of Terence, bearing the frame of my poore workemanship: which I desire you, at idle, and vacant times, to vouchsafe to peruse, both for Terence sake, whom I am sure you loue: And also at my request, whom I know you do not hate. And so I commit you to the most gracious Protection of the Highest.
A Preface to the curteous Reader.
AMONG all the Romane writers, there is none (by the iudgement of the learned) so much auailable to bée read and studied, for the true knowledge and puritie of the Latin tong, as Pub. Terentius: for, sith the chéefest matter in speech, is to speak properly and aptly, and that we haue not a more cunning Crafts-master of apt and proper spéech than Terence, well woorthy is he then, euen with all care and dilligence, to be both taught and learned before any other. And surely, great is the pity, that Terence were not more vsed of maisters in teaching, and made more familiar to schollers in learning, than commonly it is: being (as I haue knowen my selfe) by dyuers men, in diuers sentences, diuersly misvnderstood: for, the Author in many places, vsing abbreuiations, and figuratiue spéeches, aswell in regard of his verse, as also that such maner of writing, was very eloquent and familiar in his tyme: doth thereby cause the sence séeme very doubtful, to such Readers as are not fully acquainted with him: which comes to passe, by meanes that this booke, is not so frequented in schooles, nor laboured in studie, according to the woorthines of it: but other base and inferior bookes, commonly preferd before it, to the vtter marring, and maiming of Schollers both in stile and iudgement.
Though this Comoedie, now englished, perhaps séeme not altogether so pleasant, as could be wished, neither in matter, nor manner of handling: Yet is it to be considered [Page] (besides that it léeseth his natural grace, being turnd into another language) that the tyme when, and the place where, it was first published in Latin, affoorded no other sort of Comoedies than this is. And therefore, it was no part of my meaning, to trāslate the same, as a thing either pleasant to be played, or very delightful to bée read: (Notwithstanding that this Author was most excellent, and most learned, of any that wrote in this kinde:) but especially, for that the Latin is pure & eloquent, much commended by Tullie himselfe, & right requisite to be studied, & vnderstood of all such, as would attaine to the knowledge of right speaking, and readines of wel writing, in the Latin tong: for whose only sakes (and also at the earnest request of some, whom I was desirous to satisfy) I haue aduentured the englishing hereof: wishing, that as I haue thus boldly begoon with the first, so some other hauing more leisure, and learning, would go thorough with the rest of the Comedies. I haue vsed (as neere as I could) the most knowen, vsuall, and familiar phrases in common spéech, to expresse the authors meaning, as (to my thinking) best agréeing therewithall. Neuertheles, I make account my doing herein, shall be carpt and caueld at by some, from whose malicious censure, euen the best writers can not scape vntouched, and therefore no marueile if they spurne at me. Of which kinde of men, I haue knowen by experience, & noted for memory, twoo sorts: One sort pretending a shew of learning, & being indéed but very dunses, loue to be speaking they wot not what, to disgrace they care not whom, and yet not rendring any reason why, but onely to feed their owne bad humours: In whom, true iudgement, being altogether supprest, what with affection, or ignorance, or both: as either mooued by fond lyking, to commend that is bad: or stird with fowle hatred to dispraise that is good: are thus commonly carried along, with the vaine tyde and winde of their willes, without any regard [Page] of right, or due respect of wrong. An other sort (whereof I knew some good schollers, the more the pity) blinded with ouerweening of themselues, and mislyking al other mens dooings (how wel soeuer they deserue:) like onely of their owne, be they neuer so mean: neuer geuing any man his due, fearing, by like, whatsoeuer commendation is attributed to others, that the same must néeds be a derogation frō themselues: wherin they are far vnlike Tullie, the welspring of wit and learning: who alwaies praised, all men of desert, euen in those things, wherein he both desired, and deserued, most praise himselfe: This is read of Tullie, to his great praise, and remembred of others to their iust reproch. And here, least perchance I be mistaken more than I would, & misconstrued otherwise than I meane, though my woords before doo sufficiently declare my meaning: yet (to auoyd all dowt) it shall not be amisse, if I ad a few more in this place. To disalow the iudgement of such, as by learning can, and by reason know, where, when, and how, to finde fault, as iust cause and matter shall lead them: were to be wilfully blinde, and obstinately foolish: God forbid I should be so vnreasonable, or that men should iudge of mée so vnrightly.
Of the curious Carper I looke not to be fauoured, and yet if my labour may be equally compared with my Authors words and meaning, I doubt not but it will appeare vnto him, an easier matter to finde fault with part, than to amend the whole.
Onely, I submit this poore translation vnto the vew & iudgement of the learned: who lyking the Truth, and louing to speake Truth, will both allow what is well don, and amend that is amisse: As for others, I see not but that they ought first to learne, before they take vppon them to Controll:
Farewel.
To all young Students OF THE LATIN TONG (for whose onely help and benifit this Comoedie is published) Maurice Kyffin, wisheth encrease of knowledge, & finall perfection.
HOw necessarie, the vse and familiaritie of Terence, is for all such, as would attaine, vnto ripenes in vnderstanding, readynes in speaking, and right iudgement in writing Latin: is a thing, so commonly knowen and confessed of all men, as I shall not néede any reasons to prooue the same. Therefore, for the better furthering of those, that as yet are vnacquainted with him, I was the rather perswaded, to publish this my Translation of Andria: wherein, whither my labour meriteth, ought, or nought, Aliorum sit Iudicium.
My chéefest care hath bin, to lay open the meaning of the Author, especially, in all hard and difficult places of this Comoedie, and to vtter the same, in such apt, plaine, and familiar words, as are most méete, for this low stile and Argument: for, to handle a meane matter, with high and lofty phrase, were as great ouersight, & lack of iudgement as could be.
Touching the interpretation of some places in Andria. I was forced to dissent, from some of no small Authoritie, and specially from one very learned man, who occasioned (in a work that he wrote) to english certaine dispersed phrases of Terence, hath (without offence be it spoken) so englished some, and namely in Andria, as I am faine to forsake the same, and giue other quite contrary englishe vnto them.
One of those places in Andria, hath these words: Aliquid monstri alunt. Act. 1. Scen. 5. By him thus englished: They bring [Page] some monstrous creature: And by mée in this sort: They cloake some secret fault in her: which may bee séene, interpreted to that effect, by Eras. Roterod. handling that place in his Chiliads.
An other place, is this, (conteining the answere of Pamphilus vnto Carinus:) Neque pol consilij locum habeo, neque auxilij copiam: Act. 2. Scen. 1. which he hath thus englished: I neither haue place to take counsaill, nor helpe of any man: and by me contrariwise, as thus: In good faith, I am neither a meete man to geue counsail, nor yet haue wherewith to helpe another. Now to prooue that I haue geuen it a right English: read that page in Terence, and you shall soone fynde, that of necessitie the sence must so be ment and taken. Some other like places I could recite, but these shall suffice for a Say: whereof I thought good to aduertise you, to thend you may sée, that my dissenting (in these points) from a man of so great learning and authority, hath not bin without vrgent occasion.
One thing more I must note vnto you, that commonly in all bookes of Terence, this place of Andria, [Num quod tuisperas propulsabo facile] Act. 2. Scene. 3. is noted thus in the margine: Speras .j. times: which, put the case, Speras were here so to bée vnderstood (as I sée no reason why it should) yet neuertheles, the sence remaines still very lame and vnperfect: vnderstand you therefore, that as Dauus in that Scene, counselleth Pamphilus to make answeare to his father that he will marry: so Pamphilus on the other side, (fearing that would bée a meane to induce marriage betwixt him and Philumena) will not in a good while geue consent thereunto: thinking (as it séemes) that by not assenting to his fathers will therein, he shall be quite freed from marrying either her, or any other: for hée hoped that no man would geue him his doughter in marryage, sith his state and condition was so to be reiected: wherefore [Page] Dauus perceiuing whereupon he most insisted: séekes to disswade him from the same, and among other reasons vseth this:
Which (for your better vnderstanding) I haue thus translated by way of Paraphrase:
For as for that vaine hope of yours (imagining thus with your selfe, tush it is no danger for mee to withstand my father: No man will marry his doughter vnto a man of my manners) I shall easily put you out of that hope: hee wil finde out a poore and mean marriage for you, rather than hee will suffer you to bee sp [...]t by Harlots. In the interpretation of this place. I haue wholly relyed vpon the iudgement of that learned man Muretus, who expoundeth the same to this effect. By this you may see, that it much better besitteth the woord Speras, here in this place, to haue his owne naturall signification of Hope, than that wrested signification of Feare. I know by experience, that some Scholemasters are to seeke in these matters themselues, and therefore no maruayll though their Schollers be ignorant. And here I remember one Scholemaister aboue the rest: who (notwithstanding hée were maister of Art,) was yet so blunt and vnskilfull in Terence, as (among other errors) he taught his Schollers to vnderstand this place of Andria [Non tu ibi gnatum] in this sort. Non tu ibi gnatum supple Negasti: Act 1. Scen. 1. whereas it manifestly appeareth by the next lyne following, that the woord Obiurgasti is there to be vnderstood, and not Negasti. Moreouer, for that the not well vnderstanding of the Argument of this comoedie, hath in diuers, bred errors and mistakings: I haue therefore bin carefull herein to explane the Argument at large vnto you: and withall, to set downe each particular Argument before euery Scene. Lykewyse, by my notes in the margine, [Page] you shall be instructed (as occasion is offered) touching any dowtfull spéeches of the speakers: as whether they speake vnto him that spake last before, or else to the audience, or to themselues.
Thus, haue I for your sakes, bin carefull to dissolue all dowts, and difficulties, in this part of Terence: which, if I may perceiue, that you doo as curteously accept from me, as it is frendly ment for you: I shal bée more willing (if God spare me life and health) to pleasure you hereafter in a greater matter: In the meane tyme, I commit you to God, and my selfe into your good loue and frendship.
The Argument of the COMOEDIE.
CHremes & Phania (two brethren) were citizens of Athens: which Chremes, taking his iourney into Asia, left Passibula (as then his onely daughter) to the charge and safe keeping of his brother Phania: but not long after his departure, there ensued in Greece so great sturre and tumult of warre, as that Phania determining to folow his brother into Asia, did therefore embarke himselfe (and his little Neece Passibula) for that voyage: But, a sore tempest arising, he susteined shipwrack in such sort, as both he and his forenamed Neece, were cast on shore at the Ile of Andros, where he chaunced into the house of a certain dweller in that countrie, by whome he was gently receiued and relieued, & in whose house shortly after he died. After whose death, the good man of the house changed the name of the young childe, calling her by the name of Glycerie: and when he had by the space of certeine yeeres, brought her vp with like care, and in like knowledge, as he did bring vp his owne daughter Chrysis, he likewise ended his lyfe. Chrysis (perceiuing her selfe bereft of Father and friends, & being also pinched with pouertie) toke Glycerie with her, and sayled to Athens. In which Citie, during a small season, she earned her liuing by Wooll and making Cloth: but afterward, being haunted by certain youths, who fed her with guifts and faire promises, she (ouercome by those men, and by these meanes) yelded the vse of her bodie for gaine. Among other younkers, Pamphilus the sonne of Simo, a well minded young man, dyd oftentimes resort to the house, not for her sake, but onely for the great loue and [Page] liking he bare vnto Glycerie: by whome Glycerie, (within a while,) proouing to be with childe, he made faithfull promis vnto her, that he would make her his wife. By this time, Chremes (hauing long since returned home to Athens,) had an other daughter become marriageable, named Philumena, whome he much desired to match in marriage with Pamphilus, in respect of the good report that generally went of him: Wherevpon, by his owne seeking vnto Simo for the same, the match with consent of both parents, is made vp, & vtterly vnawares vnto Pamphilus, a day is appointed for the marriage.
In the meane season Chrysis dyeth, by which meanes Simo came first to knowledge that his sonne is in loue. For at the buriall of Chrysis, Glycerie for pure griefe and sorrow being about to haue throwen her selfe into the fire with the coars, was so speedely stayed, and so louingly recomforted by Pamphilus, as thereby their wonted loue and familiaritie was manifestly bewrayed. Herevpon Chremes reuoked his former offer, declaring how he had certaine intelligence that Pamphilus vsed this strange minion for his wife: little thinking that she whome he termed by so vile a name, was his owne daughter.
Pamphilus (at length) perceiuing that Chremes brake of the marriage, was very ioyfull: Simo on the other side was exceeding sorry. The day once appointed for the wedding, is come. Simo therfore of meere craft and pollicie (determining to feele the mynde of his sonne Pamphilus) pretendeth notwithstanding all this, that the marriage shall bee made out of hand: with intent that if his sonne should refuse to marrye, that thereby hee might haue good occasion to reprehend him, which till then hee could not well doo. But contrarywise, yf his sonne should consent to marry, than hee hoped to obteyne his desire at Chremes hands, and so to make vp [Page] the marriage presently. Therefore meeting with his sonne, (who little minded any such matter) he spake thus vnto him: Pamphilus, go home and make thee ready, thou must be married to day.
Pamphilus soddeinly amased with these woords, knew neither what to say, nor what to doo: But Dauus (a craftie knauish seruant) smelling out the drift and deuise of the olde man, comes to Pamphilus and sheweth by circumstance of tyme, place, and persons, the great vnlikelyhood of the marriage.
In this very time Carinus (a young man of Athens) exceedingly enamoured on Philumena, and heareing she should be furthwith married vnto Pamphilus, dyd therefore come to him and prayed him for Gods sake, as he tendred his lyfe, that either he would not marry her at all, or at least wise, that he would put of the marriage for a few dayes longer.
Pamphilus on the other side being wonderfully in loue with Glycerie, desires nothing more than that he might haue quite and cleane ryddance of this same marriage pretended for him, and so made aunswere vnto Carinus accordingly. To this ende therefore, Dauus aduiseth Pamphilus to saye vnto his father, that he is willing to marry (though he ment nothing lesse) hoping thereby both to satisfie the minde of Simo, and withall to continue still loue and familiaritie with Glycerie, hauing no mistrust in the world that Chremes would euer be induced to match his daughter Philumena vnto Pamphilus, whome he had once before reiected for his sonne in lawe. But Pamphilus folowing this deuise of Dauus, is notably ouertaken, when and where he least thought of: for Simo so much preuailed with Chremes by earnest intreatie, as that contrarie to all expectation, the marriage matter is brought to that passe, euen to haue bene made out of hand: [Page] so as Dauus, hauing no other meane to shift of this marriage, causeth the childe, whereof Glycerie the same day was deliuered, to be layed before Simoes dore: which, when Chremes saw, and vnderstoode to be the childe of Pamphilus, he straight way falls of againe from performance of the marriage. Heerevpon ensueth great sturre and hurleburly, till that by the comming of Crito from Andros to Athens, (by meere chaunce) euen the whole difficulty of the Comoedie is dissolued: for thorough him, Chremes comes to certaine knowledge that Glycerie is his owne daughter, sometime called by the name of Passibula: And so with great ioy and contentation of all parts, he giues Glycerie in marriage vnto Pamphilus, and Philumena to Carinus.
Some wil haue it consist of 4. & thē the Prologue is y e first.¶The Comoedie consists of three parts: to witte: ‘ [...], [...], [...]’ Which in Latin are signified by these three woords: ‘ Propositio, Intentio, Conuersio.’
[...]. Propositio.The first, is Proposition, conteining the first Act and the beginning of variety of Speakers, some entring, some remaining on the Stage, and some departing away.
[...]. Intentio.The second is Intention or Full Sway, conteyning the growing on & continuance of all the hot sturre, trouble and difficult state of the Comoedie.
[...]. Conuersio.The third and last part, is Conuersion, in the which all is turned to a ioyfull ende, and the whole matter made knowen.
By heedfull reading, and diligent marking, the due Decorum obserued by Terence in his Comoedies, the [Page] scholer shall gather verie much pleasure and profit, as for example, in this Comoedie of Andria, he opposeth seuerall speakers, of seuerall natures, and contrary condicions, one to another: as, Simo beeing hot and testy, is opposed vnto Chremes, a milde and moderate man. Pamphilus, a stayed and shamefast young man, is opposed vnto Carinus, a harebraind fellow voyde of discretion. Dauus, a slye and suttle seruant, is opposed vnto Byrria, a slouthfull and rechles fellow. Mysis, a sober maide, is opposed vnto Lesbia, a drunken Gossip. Crito, honest and poore, is opposed vnto Chrysis, dishonest and rich.
These persōs, are of set purpose thus placed by Terence, to the end that the vndue demeanor in the one, may the sooner be seen by the contrarie in the other.
Very singuler also is the eloquence of the Author, in setting downe the moane and complaint of Pamphilus, The Narration, Consultation, and Reprehension of Simo: From which places, are to be learned choice woords, apt figures, and right order of speaking Latin.
¶The speakers in this Comoedie.
- Simo,
- the olde man.
- Sosia,
- the late Bondman.
- Dauus,
- the seruant.
- Mysis,
- the maide.
- Pamphilus,
- a young man.
- Byrria,
- the seruant.
- Lesbia,
- the Midwife.
- Glycerie,
- Louer vnto Pamphilus.
- Chremes,
- the olde man.
- Crito,
- the stranger.
- Dromo,
- the whipping Bedle.
¶Act. 1. Scen. 1.
Simo discourseth vnto his late Bondman, first of the honest life of his sonne: And afterward of his falling in loue: Lastlie he discloseth for what cause he faineth a marriage for him.
- Simo, the olde man.
- Sosia, the seruant.
SIrs, haue in these things: dispatch. Sosia stay thou héere. I wil speake a word or two with thée.
I know your minde alredie, you would haue these things wel handled.
Nay, it is an other manner of matter.
What is it sir? that my science can stande you in more steade than this comes to?
There is no néede of that science, for this matter which I am now about: But faithfulnesse and secrecie, which I alwaies noted to bée in thée, are the sciences I haue néede of now.
I long to know what is your will with mée.
Thou wotst how reasonable and easie a bondage thou hadst with me, euer since the time I bought thée of a little one: and by cause thou didst thy seruice honestlie, and with good will, lo, of a Bondslaue I made thee my frée man, so as I rewarded thée with the very best thing I had.
I remember it well.
I repent me not of that I did.
Master, I am glad if I haue done, or doe, any seruice that may please you, and I thanke you with [Page] all my heart that you take it in good woorth: But yet this spéech of yours troubles mée: for this manner of ripping vp things past, is as it were an vpbrayding to one vnmindefull of a good turne done him: but speake at a word what is your will with mée.
So will I doe, onelie this I tell thée first and formost: This marriage which thou wéenest to be certaine, is but a fained marriage.
For what cause doo you pretend it than?
Thou shalt heare all the matter from the beginning, so shalt thou vnderstand both my sonnes lyfe, and my purpose, and also what I would haue thée do in this behalfe. When my sonne grew to mannes estate, it lay in his power to liue more at randon, for till than, how could a man know his nature, or discerne his disposition, while as tender yéeres, fearefullnesse, and his Master, kept him vnder.
It is true Sir.
That which all young men for the most parts do applying their minds to some kinde of studie or other, as either to horses, and horsmanship: or to kéepe hounds for hunting, or to studie Philosophie: he gaue himselfe speciallie, to none of these things more than other, and yet was reasonablie well séene in them all: I was glad of it.
And good cause why, for I holde it a verie commodious matter in a mans lyfe, Not to go too far in any thing.
In this sorte was the manner of his lyfe, euen gently to beare, and take all in good worth, at all mens hands that he kept companie with: betaking himselfe to doo as they did, and to follow their studies and exercises: Not thwarting any man, nor at any time putting furth himselfe before his companions, so as a man might full easily purchas prayse, and not be enuied, and also furnish himselfe with fréends.
He tooke him to a wise course of liuing, for now a dayes, Flatry gaynes Freends, and Truthe gets Foes.
In the meane time, a certaine woman of excellent beautie, and in the flowre of age, came from Andros, (now thrée yéeres since) to dwell héere, in our neighborhod, béeing thereto dryuen thorough very pouertie, and the small reckning that was made of her among her owne kindred.
Alas I feare mée, that this woman of Andros, might be cause of some euell.
At the first, she liued chastlie, sparingly, and hardly, earning her liuing by wooll and web. But afterwards resorted, now one louer, and then an other, promising reward vnto her, and as all are naturally geuen full soone to leaue of labour and follow lust, euen so this woman accepted the offers, and then she began the gaine.
They which then loued her (as it fell out) carried my sonne thether, in company with them. I straight way imagined with my selfe: without doubt he is caught for a bird: he hath his errand: I watched their Pages betimes in the morning, as they were wont to come thence, or goe thither: I oftimes asked, ho Sir boy, tell mée if thou be a good fellow, who yesterday had his pleasure of Chrysis, (for so was the name of her of Andros.)
I perceiue you.
They would say, either Phedria, or Clinia, or Niceratus: for these thrée than loued her all at once. But what did Pamphilus, hah? (What, sayd they) Mary he supt and payed his share. I was well apaid of this. In like sorte, I made enquirie at an other time, and could not finde, that Pamphilus was any way toucht with dishonesty. Therefore I thought I had sufficient tryall of him, and that he was a notable Pattern of Chastitie: for he that hath to doe with men of such [Page] condicions, and yet is not moued in mynde that way, one wold thinke hee might ful well haue the rule and [...]uyding of his owne life. Now ouer and besides that this lyked my selfe well, lo all other men also, euen with one censent, gaue al the commendations that might be, and praised my happy state, in that I [...] a sonne, endued with so good witte and gouernment. What néede I make many woordes? Chremes stird vp by this good report, came of him selfe vnto me, to the end to match his onely daughter in marryage to my sonne, and that with a [...]ry large dowry: I was well pleas'd withall: promysd him my sonne: and this very day was appointed for the marryage.
Why than what letteth, that it is not made accordingly?
That shall thou heare: shortly after within few dayes that theis thinges were a dooing, this Chrysis our neighbour dyed.
O happy chaunce, you haue now made mée glad, for still I doubted the woorst of that Chrysis.
Than specially my son vsed thither, euer and anon in company with those which loued Chrysis: he was as busie as the best, in setting furth the buryal: beyng all this while very sad: and now and than, would euen shead teares with them for company: well, this also lyked mée welinough: for thus thought I: hée that vppon small acquaintance and familiarity, takes this womans death so greeuously at the hart? what if hee had loued her himselfe? or how would he take on for me his father? so as I tooke all this to haue proceeded of a good nature, and gentle hart. To bée bréfe, I my selfe lykewise for his sake go furth to the buriall, mistrusting no ill in the world.
O what followed?
Thou shalt knowe by and by. The Coars is brought furth: we passe along with it: Anon I chuance [Page] to cast myne eye (among the women there) vpon an od young damosell, of such fauour.
What, so good?
Yea Sosia, of such modest and sober countenance and so passing beautifull to looke too, as there could not possibly bée more in a woman: who than to my séeming, made greater sorrow than any of the rest: And for that she excelled all the other women, bearing a face worthy an honest woman and well borne, I get me to the wayting maides and aske what shée might bee: They tell mée that shée is sister vnto Chrys [...] That went by and by, to the very hart of mee. Out alas, this is it I wist not of: hence grew those tears of his: here is shée whom hée pittied so.
O how greatly I feare whereto your tale tends.
Well, on goeth the coars still: wée follow after: we are come to the place of buriall: it is put into the fire: They wéepe. In the meane space, this sister whom I told you of, rusht headlong to the flame with no small ieopardy: wherat my sonne Pamphilus being sore frighted, did than lo, bewray his loue which hée had cunningly cloked and kept secrete all this while: hee runnes vnto her, and takes her about the middle: My swéete hart Glycerie (quoth hee) what do you? why goe you about to cast away your selfe? with that, shée caste her selfe weeping, and leaning vpon him so familiarly, as a man might easily perceiue their old accustomed loue.
What, say you so?
I returne thence angry and disquieted in minde, & yet had I not cause sufficiēt to chide him: for he mought haue sayd: father what haue I done? What punishment haue I deserued? or wherein haue I offended? The mayd which wilfully would haue throwen her selfe into the fire, I staied and saued her lyfe: This were an honest excuse.
It is well considered of you: for if you would chide him which helped to saue ones life, what would you doo to him that wrought ones harme or mischiefe?
The next day following, Chremes came to me exclaming what a shamefull Act it was, that Pamphilus (as he had found out for certenty) vsed this strāge noughtie pack euen as his wife: I straight way denyed that there was any such matter, he earnestly affirmes that it was so: well, in the end I parted from him, as one then vtterly refusing to match his Daughter to my sonne.
Did you not then rebuke your Sonne for it?
No, nor this was not cause great inough to rebuke him.
How so I pray you?
Hée inought haue aunswered thus: Father you your selfe haue set a time when these things shall cease: ywis it is not long hence that I must liue after an others pleasure: suffer me than, now in the meane while to liue as I lyst my selfe.
What occasion then is left to rebuke him?
Mary, if for cause of this loue hée shall refuse to take a wife, Than lo, for that offence will I first correct him to begin with all. And now my indeuour is this, that by meanes of this fained marriage, I may haue vnfayned cause to rebuke him, if he doo not agrée to it: And with all that the naughtie knaue Dauus, if he haue any suttle deuice, may spende it now, while his craft can doo no harme: whom I verely beleeue wil labour with tooth and nayl, to the vttermost that in him lyeth, and so much the rather that he may worke mee a displeasure, than for any care hee hath to followe my sonnes fancy.
Why so?
Aske you why so? An ill minde, an ill meaning: whom if I shall perciue, But what néede I vse many [Page] words, and if so be it, all doe fall out as I would, that ther be no let or delay in my sonne Pamphilus: Than resteth that I entreate Chremes for his Daughter, and that I hope to bring to passe well inough. Now is it thy parte to set on a good face in faining this same marriage: to make Dauus thorowly afrayed, and to be a watch ouer my sonne, espying what he doth, and whereof Dauus and he do consult together.
You haue said inough. I will sée to it: wée may now goe in.
Goe thou first, I will come anon.
¶Act. 1. Scen. 2.
The father hauing found out that his Sonne is in loue, pretendeth a marriage for him, he threatneth Dauus with punishment if he shall go about any deceyt to hinder the marriage.
- Simo, the olde man.
- Dauus, the seruant.
THere is no doubt of this, but that my Sonne will refuse to haue a wife: I noted such feare er while in Dauus, as soone as he hard that there was a marriage towards: but lo where he comes forth himselfe.
I meruailed if this matter should passe away so, and still I feared whereto my Masters long gentlenes [Page] would grow at length: who after he heard that shée whom hee thought of, should not bée geuen in marriage to his son, did, (notwithstanding) neuer speake woorde to an [...] of vs, nor yet was any thing mooued at it.
Simo speaketh this out of the hearing of Dauus.But now hee will, and that, as I wéene to thy cost.
His purpose was to haue vs brought vnder hande into fooles paradise, to the end that now hoping the best, and hauing cast of all feare, wée should suddeinly bee taken napping, in such sorte, as wée might not haue time to bethinke vs how to preuent the marryage. A suttle foxe I warrant him.
What prates this Gallowelapper?
Good Lord my maister is here, and I saw him not till now.
Dauus?
Now, what is the matter?
Come your way hether to mée.
What a Deuill will hée haue?
What is that thou talkest of?
Whereof should I talke?
Askest thow whereof? Sirra, the report is that my sonne is in loue.
Yea no doubt the world cares much for that.
Nay, but dost thou minde what I speake to thee or not?
Yes truly I mynde it well inough.
Wel, for mée now to go serch and fift out that matter, were but the part of a harde father: for what he did heretofore, pertaynes nothing at all to mee: so long as he tooke time conuenient for it, I suffered him to fulfill his desire. Now it is high time for him to leade an other life, and chaunge his manners. And therefore I require, or if it be reason I desyre thée Dauos, that now at length he do returne into the right way.
What meane you by this?
All men that bée in loue, can ill away to haue wiues appoynted them by others.
So they say.
Then if one take a knaue for his scholmaister in that behalfe, The loue sicke mynde of the scholler is by him commonly applied to all naughtines.
Truely I vnderstand you not.
No, dost thou not?
No, I am plaine Dauus, and not Oedipus [the reader of Riddels.]
Wilt thou then that I speake the rest of my minde plainly.
Yea a Gods name.
If I shall perceiue that thou go about to worke any deceyte this day, to the ende to breake of this marriage, or that thou wilt therein shew how slie and crafty a companion thou art: I will kudgill thee well and thriftely, and then cast thee into the grinding house to grinde till thou die: with this couenant and condicion, that if I take thée out thence, then I my selfe to grinde in thy place. What, hast thou vnderstoode me now? or dost thou not yet vnderstande this neither?
Yes full well, you went now very plainly to the matter, and nothing about the bush.
I could rather beare any abuse at thy hands, than bée deluded in this matter.
Yet good woordes I pray you sir.
What, dost thou laugh mee to scorne? I sée I am not a whit deceiued in thée: But I tell thée this, that thou be not ouer rash, and that thou maist not hereafter say but thou hadst a faire warning.
¶Act. 1. Scen. 3.
In this scene Dauus deliberateth whether it be best for him to ayde Pamphilus, or to obey the olde man.
- Dauus alone.
IN good earnest Dauus it is no time now to be flow and fluggish, so far as I perceiued of late by the old mans speech touching the marriage: which if it bee not cunningly prouided for and preuented, will cast either me or my maister cleane vnder foote: And yet I wot not in the world what to doo: whether I shall helpe Pamphilus, or els listen after the old man. Yf I leaue him helples, I feare me yt will cost him his life: Contrariwise, if I ayd and further him, than stand I in feare of the old mans threatning, whom yt is a hard matter to beguyle: for first and formost, he knoweth certeynlie of this same loue, and beyng at deadly fewd with me, he watcheth least I go about some guile to hinder the marriage: yf hée shall sée any such matter by mée, I am vtterly vndon: or if the Toy take him in the head, hée will finde some cause or other, and so bée it right or wrong, he will tumble me headlong into the grinding hous: Now ouer and besides these mischeeues, this comes also in the very [...]icke: This same woman an of Andros whether she be wife to Pamphilus, or but his loue, I knowe not, but great with childe she is by him: And it is a world to heare their presumption: They fare as they were lunaticke, and not loue sicke, for be it boy or gyrle that she shal be deliuered of, they are determined to bring it [Page] It was not Lawful in Athens to bring vp the children begotten out of wedlocke vpon strange womē, but rather to doo them away.vp. And now they faine betwixt themselues an od péece of craft, that this Glycerie is a free borne woman of Athens: Ther was a good while since (say they) a certaine old Marchant which suffred shipwracke at the Ile of Andros, who afterward died there: and that shée being then a small succourles childe cast on the shore, should (forsooth) bée fostred by Chrysis father: A trim fable. In good faith me thinks it soundes nothing like troth, and yet this fayned deuise pleaseth them well. But lo where Mysis comes furth from her. Now wil I go get me hence to the market place to méete with Pamphilus, least his father come vpon him vnawares with this mariage matter.
¶Act. 1. Scen. 4.
MYSIS declareth the cause of her comming furth from Glycerie: And here Terence g [...]ues a lesson, That such especially as haue charge of waighty busines, ought to eschew immoderate drinking of wine, concluding that a drunkard can do nothing rightly.
- Mysys, the mayde.
ARchillis, I heard you a prety while since, bid that Lesbia should be brought hither: In very truth she is a drunken harebraynd woman, and far vnfit to take charge of a woman in trauaile of her first child: yet neuerthelesse I will bring her: See how ernest the olde Trot is, to haue her here, and all because she is a drinking Gossip of hers. God graunt my Mistres safe and spéedy deliuerance, and that any other miscarry vnder the handes of the Tipsie [Page] Midwiefe, rather than shée: But what is the matter that I sée Pamphilus so much out of quiet, I feare me all is not well: I will stay, and know whither this his trooble of minde, bring not some heauy newes.
¶Act. 1. Scen. 5.
This scene conteynes the griefe of Pamphilus as touching the marriages where likewise he promiseth to keepe faithful touch with Glycerie, yea, whether his father will or no, if cause so require.
- Pamphilus, the young man.
- Mysis the, Mayde.
IS this a point of good nature, or a kindely déede? Is this the part of a Father?
Mysis speakes this to her self, out of the hearing of Pamphilus.What might that be?
O the faith of God and man, what can be greater spite than this? he had purposed with himselfe to marry me to a wife to day: ought not I haue knowen so much before hand? had it not bin méete to haue made me priuie to it long ere this?
This also is spoken by Mysis, out of the hearing of Pamphilus.Wo is me (silly wench that I am,) what newes doo I heare?
What meanes Chremes, who hauing once denyed to giue me his daughter to wife, doth he now change his minde in that, because he séeth me still one manner of man? Dooth he deale so ouerthwartly, to thend to part me from Glycerie, forlorne man that I am? which, if it come to passe, I am cleane cast away. Alas, alas, is there any man lyuing so rest of all grace [Page] and good fortune as my selfe? O Lord God, shall I by no meanes be able to auoyd the Aliance of Chremes? How many waies am I despised and set at naught? All things were done and past, and so, I that was refused am sought for againe, and wherefore, without it be as I suspect, they cloake some secret fault in her, and because she cannot be shifted to any other, they would thrust her on me.
This likewise she speakes to her selfe.These wordes do astony me for feare, (sillie wench that I am)
But what should I now say of my father? is it fit he go so careleslie to woork about so great a matter? who passing by me crewhile at the market place, spake to me in this sorte: Pamphilus; thou must be married to day: Get the home and make thée ready. It séemed to me he said, Get thee away quicklie and hang thy selfe. I was vtterlie amazed: Think ye that I could bring furth one woord, or make any excuse for my selfe, were it wrong, fals, or neuer so foolish? I became quite dumbe. But had I wist so much before, if one should now aske me, what would I then haue don, surely somwhat I would haue don, rather than doo as I dyd. But now whereto shall I first betake me? I am cumbred with so many cares, which diuerslie hale my minde to & fro, what with loue & pitie toward this woman, The griefe I conceiue of this marriage, and the shame I incurre with my father, who hitherto so gently suffred me to do what I would, (and shall I now gainesay him?) That wo is me, I wot not what to do.
This speech of Mysis is ouerheard by Pamphilus.I feare me wretch whereto this doubtfull pang will breake in the end, so as now it is very needfull that either he come and speake with my Mistres himselfe, or els that I say somewhat to him as touching her. For while his minde hangs thus in doubt, it is carryed héere, and there, with the least thing in the world.
Who talkes héere? O Mysis, welcome.
God saue you maister Pamphilus.
How dooth thy mistres?
Doo you not know? she is in labour with childe: And for this the silly woman takes care and thought, bycause heretofore your mariage was appointed to bée made as this day: Moreouer she is in great feare least you will forsake her.
O Lord, should I finde in my hart to do so? Alas poore sowle, should I suffer her to bée deceiued thorough me, which committed her whole trust vnto me, and euen put her life in my hands? Shall I deale so by her (whom I haue intirely loued as my wife) that through néed and necessity her chast behauiour and wel ordered life should be corrupted and changed? No, I wil neuer doo it.
I would not feare at all, if it lay onely in you, but I feare how you will be able to hide the brunt of your father.
What, dost thou thinke me so faint harted, or moreouer, so vnkinde, or vncurteous, or so cruell, as that neither our daily familiarity, nor loue, nor yet very shame, can mooue me nor put mée in minde to kéepe promise with her?
This one thing I wot well: shée hath deserued that you should be mindefull of her.
That I should be mindfull of her? O Mysis Mysis, those woordes of Chrysis remaine yet printed in my minde, which she spake vnto mée, as touching Glycerie: Being néere the point of Death, shee calles mée to her: I came, and after you were gone aside and no body left but wée twoo: thus shée began: Frend Pamphilus, you sée of what beauty and yéeres this same mayden is: neither are you to bée tolde, what inconuenience these twoo thinges are vnto her, both for sauing her honesty and her stocke: And therefore I pray you by this right hand of yours, and your honesty: [Page] I beséech you also on your faith and troth, and in respect of the solitary state of this maiden, that you will neither part her from you, nor forsake her: euen as I haue loued you as myne owne brother, and as shée alwaies estéemed you alone aboue all men liuing, and was in all things ready at your commaundement. I bequeath you to her, as husband, frend, tutor, and father. These our goods I commit vnto you, and charge you with them of trust. Herevpon shée deliuered Glycerie vnto mee in way of marriage, and by and by gaue vp the Ghost: I receiued Glycerie of her, and hauing once receiued her, I will kepe her still.
Truly I hope no lesse.
But why art thou come from her?
I go for the midwife.
Hye thée apace: and hearst thou mée? beware thou speake not one woorde of the marriage, least that also increase her griefe.
O, I vnderstand you.
¶Act 2. Scen. 1.
CARINVS vnderstanding that Philumena shall be maried to Pamphilus: entreateth Pamphilus that he doo not marry her. Here Carinus and Byrria are purposely brought in, least that Philumena should not bee esteemed of at all.
- Carinus, a yong man.
- Byrria, the seruant.
- Pamphilus.
BYrria, what sayest thou? shall shée bée married this day to Pamphilus?
Yea, euen so.
How knowest thou?
I heard it of Dauus but a little while since, at the market place.
Wo is mée vnhappy man, for as my minde was held betwéene hope and feare euer till now: so now that all hope is past, euen worne and wearied with care, it is vtterly dismayed.
I pray you Sir for Gods sake, sith you cannot haue what you would, that you will haue what you may.
There is nothing that I will haue but Philumena.
Alas how much better were it for you, to séeke to weare this loue out of your mynde, than to vtter furth such spéeches, whereby your desire is kindled more and more in vayne.
Wée can all lightly when wee are in health, geue good counsayle to such as are sicke: But if thou wert in my case, thou wouldst sing mée a new song.
Wel, go too then, doo as you list.
But to where I sée Pamphilus, I am determined to prooue all manner of wayes before I dye.
What will he now doo?
This same man will I intreate, him wil I earnestly beséech, to him will I discouer my loue: I beléeue [Page] I shall get him to put of the marriage, at least, for a few dayes longer: and in the meane space I hope somewhat may be done.
That somewhat, will prooue iust nothing.
But how thinkest thou Byrria, were I best go to him or not?
Yes, what els? though you obteyne nothing at his handes, that yet hée may thinke you ready to make him cuckold, if hée do marry her.
Go get thée hence knaue, with a mischiefe to thée for thy peeuish suspicion.
I see Carinus: God spéede sir.
O Pamphilus, God saue you: I come to you requesting at your handes, hope, health, helpe, and counsaile.
In good faith I am neither a méete man to geue counsaile, nor yet haue wherewith to helpe an other: but what is your matter?
Do you marry to day?
So the talke goeth.
Pamphilus if you do so, then shall you neuer sée mée aliue after this day.
Why, how so?
Alas I feare to vtter it: I pray thée Byrria doe thou tell it him.
I will.
What is it?
He is in loue with your Bride.
Now in good fayth hée is not of my minde: but come néere and tel mee Carinus, hath there bene any further matter betwéene you and her?
O, Alas Pamphilus, no.
Mary sir I would there had.
Now I hartely beséech you, euen for the loue and frendship betwixt you and mée: first and formost, that you do not marry her at all.
Truely I will do my best indeuor.
But if you may not otherwise choose, or that this marriage be according to your owne hart:
According to my hart?
Yet at least wise, prolong it for a day or twoo, while I get mée away somewhither, that I may not behold it.
Nay but listen to mée now Carinus, I hold it in no wise the part of an honest man, to pike a thanke where none is due vnto him: God wot I am more desirous to be rid of this mariage, than you are to obtayne it.
You haue reuiued my spirites.
Now if either your selfe, or Byrria here, can do ought in the matter, be doing, faine, finde out and procure the meanes that you may haue her: I for my part will so handle the matter, as shée may not bée married to mée.
I haue my desire.
Oh, in very good tyme do I sée Dauus, whose aduise I vse altogether.
He speaketh to his seruant Byrria.But in good sooth thou wilt tell mée nothing, except such things as are not woorth the knowing: dost thou not get thée hence.
Yes truely, and that with a very good wil.
¶Act. 2. Scen. 2.
DAVVS hauing gathered by sundry signes and coniectures the vnlikelihood of the mariage, seeketh all the towne ouer for Pamphilus, & reioiceth out of measure.
- Dauus.
- Charinus.
- Pamphilus.
O Good God, what good newes doo I bring with me, But where shall I now finde Pamphilus, that I may release him from that feare he is in, and fill his hart with ioy.
This talke of Carinus and Pamphilus must bee supposed to be betwixt themselues, Dauus neither hearing nor seeing thē, and therefore he goeth on stil with his specheHe is very méery, what the matter is I know not.
It is nothing to any purpos, he hath not yet vnderstood of this mischiefe.
Whome I verily beléeue, if he haue yet hard of the marriage prepared for him.
He speaketh still to Pamphilus.Doo you not heare what he saith?
That he is beside himselfe, séeking for me all the Towne ouer. But where shall I seke for him, or whither shall I now first go?
And this also he speaketh to Pamphilus.What, doo you linger to speake to him?
Well, I go my waies.
Dauus, come hither, stay.
Who calles me? O my Master Pamphilus, you are the man I looke for. Well met Carinus: I finde you both in good time, euen you two I would speaks with all.
Dauus, I am a forlorn man.
But yet listen to me a little.
I am cast away.
I wot what you feare.
Truely and my liefe is in hazard in very déede.
I wot also what you feare.
I must be married.
And that I know too.
Yea but too day.
You dull me with too many wordes, and yet I know the matter already. You feare least you must marry Philumena: And you (Carinus) take care how you may marry her.
Thou hast hit the nayle on the head.
That same is it.
And in that, is there no daunger at all: I warrant you.
I pray thée for Gods sake, ryd me presently out of this feare, poore wretch that I am.
Lo, I put you out of feare, Chremes will not at this time giue you his daughter to wife.
How knowest thou somuch?
I know it full well: your father met me erewhile and told me that he would marry you this day to a wiefe, besides many things else, which now is no time to rehers. By and by I hasted me and ran euery foote to the market place, to tel you of this: and when I could not finde you there, I got me vp, on a high standing, and looked round about me, you were no where to be séene. By chaunce I spied Byrria this mans seruant, I aske him for you, he sayd he sawe you not. This troubled me: Then I bethink me what to doo: and as I was returning thence, I fell to mistrust whether there were any marriage towards or no, I remembred there was verie small prouision of meate: he himselfe was very sad: The marriage was to be made on the soddeyn, This did not hang well together.
What of all this?
I presently got me to Chremes house, and being come thither, there was no body sturring about the doore, I was glad of that.
You say well.
Tell on.
I stay there a while, and could sée no body either [Page] going in, or comming out, I went my waies in, and looked narrowly, there was neuer an elderly woman, no tryming vp of the house, no stur or preparacion.
I graunt you, it is great likelihood.
Nay but doo these thinges séeme to agrée with a marriage matter?
No Dauus, as I ghesse.
Ghesse say you? you take your marke amis: The matter is out of al doubt: Moreouer, as I was comming thence, I met with Chremes boy, carrying potherbs and a halpwoorth of small fish for the old mans supper.
Dauus, I am ryd out of danger this day by thy meanes.
Truely but you are neuer the néerer.
How can that be? for surely Chremes will not giue his daughter in marriage to him.
O wise woodcok, as though it must néedes folow, if he giue not his Daughter to him, that therefore you shall marry her: vnles you sée better vnto it, and vnlesse you make sute to the olde mans fréends, you do but throw your cap in the winde.
You aduise me well, I will go thither, although in good faith, this hope hath deceyued me alredy more than once or twise. Farewell.
¶Act. 2. Scen. 3.
DAVVS earnestly prayeth and perswadeth Phamphilus, to say vnto his father that he will marry.
- Phamphilus.
- Dauus.
WHat meanes my father then? why doth he dissemble with vs?
Mary I shal tel you, if so be it he be now in a chafe bycause Chremes will not marry his daughter vnto you: Then lo, may he thinke with himselfe that he doth you wrong: But yet he will thinke it no wrong at all, before such time as he shall perceyue how your minde is setled towards marriage. But if you shall refuse to marry, then will he lay all the fault vpon you, and then will be old sturre and hurleburly.
What wouldst thou haue me to doo? that I should yéeld to marry?
O master consider, he is your father, it is hard to withstand him: Moreouer this Glycerie is a loue woman, he will quickly picke a quarell against her, and so turn her packing out of town:
May he turn her away?
Yes, out of hand.
Then I pray thée Dauus what shall I doo?
Say to your father that you will marry.
Alas.
Why, what is the matter?
Should I say so?
Why not?
I will neuer doe it.
Neuer deny it.
Neuer doo thou perswade me to it.
Do but consider what will follow of this.
This will follow, that I shall be shut from Glycerie, and tyed vp to this woman.
Not so: Mary I wene your father will say thus much to you: I will haue you to marry a wyfe to day. You shall say, I will: And then I pray you what cause shall he haue to chide you? By this meanes you shall make all his deuises which now are of force, to be then altogether friuolous: and that without any danger to your selfe: for this is without all question, that Chremes will not marry his daughter vnto you: And for more surety, you shall not cease to vse Glyceries company still as you haue done, least haply he should alter his minde. Tell your father that you are willing to marry, so as when he would be angrie with you, he may haue no cause: for as for that vaine hope of yours (imagining thus with your selfe: Tush, it is no dāger for me to withstand my father, No man will marry his daughter vnto a man of my manners) I shall easilie put you out of that hope: he will finde out a poore and meane marriage for you, rather than he will suffer you to be spilt by harlots. But if he shall perceiue that you are well content with this marriage, you shall make him reckles of the matter, he will seeke an other wife for you at leysure, and in the meane space some good fortune will fall.
Dost thou think so?
Nay surely there is no doubt of that.
Yea, but take héede whereto thou perswadest me.
What, are you not yet resolued?
Well, I will say so to my father: but we must take héede, that he vnderstand not of the childe I haue [Page] by Glycerie, for I haue promised to bring it vp.
O notable hold déede.
Shée earnestly besought mée to geue her my fayth and troth on this, that so shée might bée sure I would not forsake her.
Well, it shall bée cared for. But your father is here hard by, beware that hée do not finde you sad.
¶Act 2. Scen 4.
In this scene bee deuises practised of both sides: Dauus putteth Pamphilus in mynde that hee doe not feare or faint, but that he be prouided what to say to his father.
- Simo.
- Dauus.
- Pamphilus.
I Come againe to sée what they are a dooing or consulting.
This he saith softly to Pamphilus: Simo neither hearing nor seeing them.Hée makes sure account that you will refuse to marry: he hath studied by himselfe, and is now come out of some solitary corner, hoping he hath deuised talke wherewith hée may bring you beside your selfe: Therefore sée that your wits bée your owne.
I will doo as well as I may.
Maister, credite mée in this: I say vnto you that your father will not geue you one euill woord to day, if you doo but say that you will marry.
¶Act. 2. Scen. 5.
BYRRIA watcheth Pamphilus: Pamphilus answeareth his father that hee is ready in all things at his commaundement. Byrria makes report thereof to Carmus.
- Byrria.
- Simo.
- Dauus.
- Pamphilus.
MY maister gaue mée commaundement, that setting all busines aside, I should watch Pamphilus this day, to thend I might learne what hée did as touching the marriage: and that is the matter I am now come after him hither: but lo where he is with Dauus, here hard at hand. I will do that, that I come for.
Simo saith this to himself, hauing Dauus and Pamphilus in sight.I sée them both present before my face.
Dauus speaketh this to Paphilus, because Simo draweth nigh.Hem, looke to your selfe.
Pamphilus.
All the spech of Dauus in this Scene, is onely vnto Pā philus, and out of the hearing of Simo.Turne suddenly toward him as though you were not aware of his comming.
Oh father.
Well handled of you.
I will haue thée to bée married to daye, as I told thée before.
Byrria saith this to himselfe out of their hearing.Now feare I of our side, how this man will answeare.
Neither in this thing, nor in any thing els, shall you finde any let or delay, in me.
All the speech of Byrria in this Scene, is either to himselfe, or to the Audiens: and not to any of the speakers.Out alas.
He hath neuer a word more to say.
What did he answeare?
Thou dost as becommeth thée, in that I obteine with thy good wil, y e thing which I require at thy hands.
did not I say true?
As far as I héere, my master is like to leape beside his wife.
Now go thy waies in, that there be no tarrying for thée when néede is.
I go.
Is there no trust to be put in any man, for any thing in the world? Euery man for himselfe and God for vs all.That same is a true saying which is commonly vsed: Euery man wisheth more good to himselfe than to an other. I my selfe haue séene that same mayden, and I remember she was of a good louely fauour: Therefore I blame not Pamphilus so much though he had leauer, lye colling of her himselfe a nights, than that my Maister should: well, I will go shew all to my Maister, that for these ill newes he may giue me ill language.
¶Act. 2. Scen. 6.
IN this scene Dauus and Simo deceyue one an other: which is woorth the noting.
- Dauus.
- Simo.
This he speaketh to the audiens. NOw thinks the old man verilie, that I bring some flye shift to beguyle him, and that I staied here therefore of purpos.
What saith Dauus?
Truly euen as much now as before.
What, is it nothing thou saiest?
Nothing at all.
But I had hoped to heare somewhat.
Dauus speaketh this to the Audience, out of the hearing of Simo.I perceiue the matter fell out otherwise than he thought for, and that troubles the man.
Canst thou tell mée truth?
Why, nothing readier.
Is my sonne any thing gréeued at this marriage, in respect of the loue and familiarity betwixt him and this strange harlatry?
No certeinly, or if he be, his gréefe is but for two or three dayes (perceiue you mée?) and than it is don: for hée will take a right course with himselfe, as touching that matter.
I commend him for it.
While he might, & while it stood with his youthfull yéeres, he gaue himselfe to loue: nor then neither, but secretly: for he tooke héede that it should not at any tyme bring him to ill name, euen as became a manly man to do. Now it is méete for him to haue a wife, hée hath setled his minde on marriage.
Mée thought that he was somewhat sad.
Not a whit for this matter, but there is some cause why he is not wel pleased with you.
What is that?
A trifling matter.
What is it, I say?
Nothing in effect.
But yet tell me what it is?
He saith that there is too much niggardnes vsed in this matter.
What, by mée?
Yea by you. Hée scarcely (quoth hée) bestowed forty pence in cates, and doth hée séeme to marry his sonne to a wife: what man of calling (of my fréendes and equalles) shall I bid to my wedding feast, as the case now stands? And you likewise, here be it spoken, are too much sparing indéede, which I do not commend in you.
Sirra hold you your peace.
I haue mooued his patience.
I will sée those things cared for well inough: but what is the meaning of this? what is it that this deceitfull knaue goeth aboute? surely if any thing happen otherwise than well, euen that same varlet is the chéefe woorker of it.
¶Act. 3. Scen. 1.
SIMO, thorough his ouermuch wilines, is notably deceiued, thinking the birth of the childe to bee a fained matter: which indeede was nothing lesse.
- Mysis.
- Simo.
- Dauus.
- Lesbia, the Midwife.
- Glycerie, lying in childbed.
This talke betweene Mysis and the midwife is ouerheard by Simo, whom they see not. IN good sooth Lesbia, it is very true as you say: one shall hardly finde a man that is faithfull and true of his woord to a woman.
This mayde belongs to her of Andros, how saiest thou?
Shée doth so.
And yet this yong man Pamphilus.
He speaketh still to Dauus, & Mysis goeth on with her speche, not hearing him.What saieth shée?
Was as good as his woord.
What?
Dauus speakes to the audience out of Simoes hearing.I would to God that either the olde man were deafe, or that pratling wench dumbe.
For were it man childe or woman childe that my mistres were deliuered of, hée tooke order for the nursing of it.
O the king of heauen, what is this I heare? Why, all is past helpe, at least if it bee true that this mayde tells.
Lesbia & Mysis go on still with their talk and these interspeeches of Simo and Dauus, must be supposed to be vttered by thē selues, out of the womens sight and hearing.He is a good natured yong man, by your saying.
Yea of an excellent good nature: But doo you follow me in presently, that she néede not to stay for you.
I come after you.
Dauus speakes this to the audience, out of Simoes hearingWhat remedy now may I find for this mischéefe?
What meanes this? doth he dote so much on this strange harlat indéede? Now I perceiue how this geare cottens: I scarse found it out now at last, foolish man that I am.
He speaks (as it were) to the audience.What doth he say that he hath found out?
That knaue séekes to abuse me with this falshood first and formost. They faine that this quean is brought a bed, to thend that so they may driue Chremes from geuing his daughter.
This is vttered within by Glycerie, being in trauaile with childe.Oh lady Iuno Lucina, helpe and saue mée I beséech thée.
Whup hoyda: what in all the hast? sée a foolish deuise: as soone as she heard me at the dore, shée straight falles in labour: Dauus, this was not halfe cunningly contriued of thée, ech thing in his due time.
What, by mée?
Why make you it so strange, haue you forgot your scholler?
I wot not what you say.
If this knaue had set his craft a broche against me vnawares, and in a marriage ment in good earnest: what prancks would hée than haue played mée, trow you? But now, be it vpon his perill: as for me I am safe.
¶Act. 3. Scen. 2.
LESBIA comming furth, sheweth the state of Glycery lying in childbed: and withall appointes a drinke to be geuen her, thereby imitating the Phisitians, which are wont to prescribe vnto the sicke, what they shall eate and drinke. Lastly, Simo and Dauus are at variance about the birth of the child.
- Lesbia,
- Simo,
- Dauus.
HItherto Archillis I sée all good signes of health in her, that are vsuall & ought to bée in a woman in her case: Now first and formost, cause you those things to be washed, and then geue her that drink, and the same quantity that I apappointed for her. I will come backe againe hither by and by. Before god there is a iolly bouncing boy borne vnto Pamphilus: Now I pray God send him long to liue, bycause he hath so honest a man to his father, who had care & conscience not to deale amis with this kinde harted young woman.
And who that knew thée, would not iudge this also to be a craft of thy budget.
And what is that, I pray you?
So as Simo thinks that Glycerie is not brought a bed, but that al this is fained to bleare his eyes with all.Shée did not will them while she was in the house, to doo what was néedefull for the woman that lyes in, but after shee was come furth, she kept a pratling out of the stréet, vnto them which were within doores. Why Dauus, am I so little set by of thée? Or I pray thée, doo I séeme so fit a man, for thée to séeke to beguile, with such manifest fraud and falshood? At least wise thou dost [Page] thy diligence, so as I may wel séeme to bée put in feare by thée: Surely if I had knowen it before.
Dauus saith this to the Audience.Now in good faith this man beguiles himselfe, I doo not.
Why, did I not geue thée straight charge to the contrary? did I not threaten thée with punishment, that thou shouldst not doo it? did it feare thée a whit? what hath it booted? Shall I now geue thée credite in this: that shée there, is brought a bed of childe by Pamphilus?
This he speaks to himselfe.O, ho, I sée now wherein he is deceiued: I wot well what I wil doo.
Dost thou not answeare mée?
What should you geue mée credite? as though it was not told you before, that these things would come so to passe.
Did any body tell mée so?
Why than, did you of your selfe, finde that this is a fained matter?
Hée laughes mée to scorn.
No doubt it was told you before, for how els should it come vpon you to suspect it?
How? marry bycause I knew thée.
As who should say, it was done by my deuise.
Yea I am well assured of that.
Well sir, you doo not yet throughly know what manner of man I am.
Doo not I know thée knaue?
But when I begin to tell you any thing, you straight way thinke that I go about to beguyle you.
That is a lye.
So as in good faith, now a daies, I dare not scarce open my lips to you.
This one thing I am sure of, that here is no woman deliuered of childe.
Haue you vnderstoode so? But neuerthelesse ere it [Page] be long, the childe shall be brought here and laid before the doore: Maister, I tel you of it now before hand, that you may certainly know what will follow: least hereafter you should say, that this was don by the counsaile or craft of Dauus: And I would in any wise, that this euil opinion which you haue of mée, were cleane out of your minde.
How camest thou to know this?
I heard it, and I beléeue it be true.
There be many things mo than one, which cause me to coniecture as I doo: Euen now, is the first tyme that this queane declared her selfe to be with childe by Pamphilus, which is but a false deuise. Moreouer, now that she sées preparation at home for the wedding, the maid forsooth, in all hast is sent for the midwife to come to her, and withall to bring also a childe with her.
Well, without that it come so to passe that you do sée the childe with your owne eies, nothing will hinder the course of this marriage.
What sayest thou? when thou once vnderstoodest that they purposed such a matter, why didst thou not than presently tell it vnto Pamphilus?
Why than, who els hath withdrawen him from these harlots but my selfe? for certeynly we all know how excéedingly he loued this woman. Now he is desirous to haue a wife, and as for that matter, let mée alone withall: yet neuerthelesse go you on forward still with this marriage as you doo: and I hope God will prosper it.
Very well, go thy waies in, stay there till I come: and prouide what is néedfull. Dauus being gon in, Simo turne his tale to the audiens.He could not driue it into my head, to make me beléeue all this, neither am I certaine whether all that hée told me be true or no: But I passe not greatly for that. Marry the matter I stand most vpon, is the promise which my sonne himselfe made vnto me: Now will I go méete with Chremes: [Page] I will intreate him for his daughter to my sonne in marryage, and if I doo obteine her, why should I make any more daying for the matter, but marry them out of the way? for as touching my sonnes promise, I haue no doubt at all, if hée shall refuse to performe it, but I may full rightly compel him to it. But lo yonder where Chremes himselfe comes towards mée, euen in as good time as may be.
¶Act. 3. Scen. 3.
In this scene, by meanes of Chremes and Simo meeting together, the fained marriage is become a marriage in good earnest.
- Simo,
- and Chremes,
GOD saue you neighbour Chremes.
O sir, you are the onely man I sought.
And I you.
You com as wel as I could wish: There haue some bin with me, which told me they heard you say that my daughter should this day be marryed to your sonne: Now the matter I come for, is to sée, whether you, or they, do dote.
Heare me a word, or twoo, and you shall soone know both what I desire of you, and also what you require of me.
I heare you, go too, speake your minde.
Chremes I beséech you for Gods sake, and for our frendships sake begun betwixt vs from our childehood, and growen together with our years: I beseech you as you loue your onely daughter, & as you tender my son, [Page] whome it lieth in you chéefely to saue or to spill, y t you will help me now in this matter, and like as the marriage should haue bin, that so now, it may be made vp betwixt them.
Tush, neuer pray mée so much, as though you could not obteine this at my hands but by much praying: Doo you think mée now an other manner of man, than I was then, when I promised my daughter vnto you? If it be a matter profitable for both parts, that this marriage be made, then cause hir furthwith to be sent for. But if there grow of this, more harme than good, as well to the one as to the other: Then my desire is, that you will consider of the matter indifferently for both parts, euen no otherwise than if she were your daughter, and that I were father vnto Pamphilus.
Yea Chremes, euen so is my meaning, and therfore doo I request that it may be effected. Neither would I request it at your hands, if the matter if selfe dyd not geue me good occasion.
What may that be?
Mary sir, my sonne and Glycerie are fallen out.
I heare you.
Nay, but so far fallen out, as I hope they may be quite set a sunder.
Tush, it is but a Tale.
Nay, without dowt it is as I say.
Yea forsooth, thus, as I shall tell you, The falling out of Louers, is a Renewing of Loue.
Alas, I pray you then, let vs now preuent that, while time is, and while his hot loue is alaid with bitter words: Let vs couple him to a wife, before that this naughtie parks shrewd crafts, and fained teares, doo woork againe his louesick minde, vnto pitie and compassion: I hope (Chremes) that being once reclaimed, by meanes of good company and honest wedlock, he will afterward, w t cas, winde himself out of these mischéefs.
It séemes so to you, but I think it neither possible for him to continue with this wife, nor yet for me to be able to endure it.
How can you know that, vntill you haue made tryall of it?
Yea mary, but it is a shrewd matter to make that Tryall vpon my daughter.
Well yet, the very worst and vttermost of all, can be but a diuorse or seperation, if any such matter should happen, as God forbyd it should: But contrariwise, if by this meanes he doo amend and become a new man, sée than how many commodities ensue: First and formost, you shall restore to your fréend his sonne: next, you shall finde a sure sonne in law to your selfe, and lastly, a stayed husband to your daughter.
What? say you so? If you be perswaded that this is expedient, I for my part, will not haue you hindred of any good turne that I may affoord you.
Chremes, not without good cause haue I alwaies set most store by you of any man.
But what sayd you erewhile?
What?
How came you to know, that they be at iarre betwéene themselues?
Euen Dauus himselfe, the chéefe of their priuie Councell, dyd tell it me. And he likewise perswades me to hasten this marriage, as much as I may: Think you he would haue done this, vnlesse he were sure that my sonne desires the same? You shall heare him your selfe, by and by. Holo sirs, call me out Dauus hither. But sée yonder where he comes furth of him selfe.
¶Act. 3. Scen. 4.
Dauus fawning vppon the olde man, dooth perswade him to make vp the marriage, little thinking that it should come to passe in deede: But whē he perceiueth that Simo deales in good earnest with Chremes as touching his daughter: he is then much perplexed, and cleane beside himselfe.
- Dauus.
- Simo.
- Chremes.
I was comming to you.
well, what is the matter?
Why is not the bryde sent for? it waxeth now very late.
Simo saith this softly to Chremes.Doo you not héere him. Well Dauus, I stood somewhat in feare of thée erewhile, least thou (as the common sort of seruants are wont) shouldst by craft and knauery haue deceyued me, in respect that my sonne is in loue.
Alas sir, should I haue don such a déede?
I was of that beléefe, and therefore fearing such a matter, I kept secret from my sonne and thée, that which now I will tell thée.
What is it?
Thou shalt know, for now in a manner, I begin to haue some trust in thée.
At last then, you know what manner of man I am.
This marriage, was not meant to haue bin made indéede.
What, was it not?
No, but I fayned it of purpose, that I might thoroughlie trye you.
What, is it true sir?
It is euen so as I tell thée.
Sée, I could neuer perceyue so muche. O notable pollicie.
Nay but listen to me, as soone as I bade thée go hence in, this man met me in excellent good time.
Dauus saith this softly to himselfe.Out alas, are we not cleane cast a way?
I shew him all that thou toldst me erewhile.
And this like wise to himselfe.What is this I héere?
I entreat him for his daughter, and with much a doo I obtaine her.
I am vtterly vndon.
Hah, what sayest thou?
I say it is excellently well don.
Now is there no let or delay on this mans behalfe.
I will straight goe hence to byd euery thing be made redy, and so bring woord hither againe.
Now Dauus I pray thée, sith thou alone hast brought this marriage for mée to passe:
Yea truly, I, and none else.)
That thou wilt yet moreouer labour my sonnes amendment.
In déede I will doo what I can.
Thou maist now well do it, especially while he is netteled at the heart.
Well, set your minde at rest.
Go to then, But where is he now?
It is maruaile if he be not at home.
Simo departeth and Dauus stayeth still.I will go to him, and tell him my minde in the same sort, as I told it thée.
I am a forlorne creature, what shall kéepe me but that I must go hence streight into the grinding house to prison? No prayer or intreaty wil serue, I haue now brought all out of frame: I haue deceyued my master: I haue forced a marriage on my Masters sonne: I was the cause y t the marriage shal be made to day, euen quite vnhoped for of y e old man, & cleane contrary to the minde of Pamphilus. Sée these goodly crafts of mine: had I not [Page] busied my selfe, there had hapned no harme at all: Dauus espieth Pamphilus comming.But lo yonder I sée him himselfe, I am but a dead ma [...]: I would to God héere were some place, where I [...]ight throwe my selfe downe headlong.
¶Act. 3. Scen. 5.
PAMPHILVS takes on very much, that by following the deceitfull deuise of Dauus, he made aunswere to his father that he would marry.
- Pamphilus,
- Dauus.
WHere is that same mischéeuous varlet, which hath cleane vndon mée?
Now Lord haue mercy vpon mée.
And yet I confesse, this that hath hapned, is euen good enough for mée, when I would bée so sottish, and so very a dolt, as to commit my whole estate and welfare vnto a prating villaine. Therefore I reape a iust reward for my folly. But he shal neuer scape scotfrée with it.
This he saith out of Pamphilus hearing.I am sure to bée safe enough for euer hereafter, if I may but now auoide this mischéefe.
But what may I now say to my father? shal I now refuse marriage, and yet promised erewhile that I would marry? with what face dare I doo that? I wot not what to doo with my selfe.
Dauus speaketh all this out of Pamphilus hearing.Truely nor I neither, what to doo with my self: yet this is it I am fully resolued vpon, I will tell him that I shall presently finde out some remedy, and so put of my punishment yet a little while.
Oh.
Now hée sées mée.
Come hither you honest man: how say you sirra, sée you not how I (poore soule) am bestad by meanes of your deuises?
But I will remedy it by and by.
Wilt thou remedy it?
Yes certainly maister Pamphilus.
Yes, euen as thou didst of late.
Nay rather better, I hope.
O, should I credit thée vile hangman? canst thou recouer a matter full of trouble, and past all hope of helpe? Out alas, what a sure stay had I of thée, who this day, out of my greatest quietnes, hast forced mée into a marriage spite of my téeth? did I not tell thee it would come thus to passe?
You did so.
What then art thou woorthy of?
Hanging. But yet suffer mée a litle to come to my selfe, I will straight way séeke out some helpe.
Alas that I haue not leysure to punish thée as I would: it is now time for mée to sée to my selfe, and not to be auenged of thée.
¶Act 4. Scen. 1.
This scene doth cheefly containe the angry speeches of Carinus against Pamphilus.
- Carinus.
- Pamphilus.
- Dauus.
IS this a thing credible, or worthy to be spoken of, that there shold be somuch peruersnesse in any man, as to delight in euill, and to séeke his owne commoditie, euen by the discommodity of an other? Is this kinde of people to be trusted? Nay certainely, those are the very worst kinde of people, who are somewhat shamefast in denying a Request, but afterward, when time requires performance of their promises, Then of necessitie, they bewray themselues and faulter, and yet the matter it selfe driues them then to a flat denyall: Then is their spéech void of all shame and honesty, as thus: who are you sir? What friend of mine are you? why should you desire my swéete hart? O sir, heare you me, I loue you well, but my selfe better. Neuerthelesse, if you aske where is truth and trustines of promis, they are neuer a whit ashamed. Now they are not a frayd to deny, when as they ought to performe: And yet are they then afrayd, when they shold not. But what shall I doo? Is it best that I goe to him, to taunt and take him vp for this iniurie? I shall giue him shrewd woords his fill: But one may say to me, thou shalt be neuer the néere: yes very much: without doubt I shall anger euerie vayne in his hart, and withall shall ease mine owne minde.
Carinus, I haue vnawares (without God help vs) euen cleane cast away both you and my selfe.
Yea, vnawares: is it so indéede? Now at last you haue got an excuse: Tush, thou hast broken thy faith and promis.
Why, what excuse now at last?
What, woldst thou yet againe deceiue me now, with those suttle spéeches of thine?
Why, what is the matter with you now?
Mary after I had told you that I was in loue with Philumena, forsooth it pleased you to like her well for your selfe: Wo is me wofull wretch, who estéemed the honesty of thy minde by mine owne.
You mistake the matter.
Why, and dost thou not think this yet a ioy perfect enough for thée, vnles thou maist make a tame foole of me that am in loue, and feede me with vaine hope? well, take her to thée.
Shold I take her? Alack, ful little do you know, in how great troobles I am wrapt, vnhappie man that I am: and what care and anguish, this my Tormentor hath put me to, with his deuises.
Why, is that such a marueill? he takes ensample by you.
Well, you would not say this, if you knew either me, or my loue.
I know you were at words with your father of late, and that is the matter he is now displeased with you, but yet he could not cōpel you to marry her to day.
Yea and by how much the more you are ignorant of my heauines: This same marriage was not meant or intended for me, neither did any man motion, now at this time, to procure a wife for me.
I wot well, you are compeld to it euen of your owne frée will.
Abide, you wot not yet how the case stands.
Yes certainely, I wot full well that you will marry her.
Why do you thus kil my hart? heare me what I shall say to you: he neuer ceassed, preassing, perswading, and praying me so long, till at last he inforced me to say vnto my father, that I would marry her.
What man did this?
Dauus.
What, Dauus?
Yea, hée brought all out of square.
Wherefore did hée so?
I wot not in the world, without that God were highly offended with mée, in that I followed his counsaile.
Dauus, Didst thou doo this?
Yes.
Hah, what sayest thou villayne? Now I pray God geue thee a mischéeuous end as thou hast deserued. Why I pray thee tell me, if all the enemies hée hath in the world would haue wished to force a marryage vpon him, what other counsaile could they haue geuen him than this?
Well, I am deceiued, but not discouraged.
Ironice.I know it well.
The matter came not well to passe this way, now wee will take an other course, vnlesse you be of opinion, that bycause it had ill successe at the first: that therfore this euill may not now be remedied at the last.
Yes mary may it, for I verily beleeue if thou doo bend thy whole indeuor vnto it, thou wilt make for me two marriages of one.
Maister Pamphilus, this I owe vnto you of duty, as being your seruaunt: euen day and night to labours to my vttermost with might and maine, and to hazard my life to doo you good withall: it is your part, if ought hath hapned otherwise than was looked for, to pardon mée. Be it that my doings prosper not: Why yet I doo my true intent: Or finde you some better remedy your selfe, and let not mée either make or meddle withall.
That is it I desire: set mée againe in the same state thou foundest me.
I will.
But it must be don by and by.
Alas, but yet stay a little, Glyceries doore creaks.
That is nothing to thée.
Yet I would know.
What, still more staying?
Well, I will presently finde you out a deuise for this.
¶Act. 4. Scen. 2.
HEERE Pamphilus makes promis vnto Mysis that he will neuer forsake Glycerie: yea though he shall procure all men to be his enimies for it.
- Mysis.
- Pamph.
- Carinus.
- Dauus.
WHeresoeuer your friend Pamphilus be, I wil furthwith séeke him out, and bring him with me: In the meane time (dere hart) doo not you vexe your selfe with thought.
Mysis?
Who is there? O master Pamphilus, you méete me in very good time.
What is the matter with thée?
My mistres bad me pray you for Gods sake, if you loue her, that you will come to her, now out of hand. She saith that she longs much to sée you.
Out alas, I am a forlorne man? This mischéefe beginnes now againe a fresh: Is it méete that both I and she (silly soules) should be thus vexed and disquieted [Page] thorough thy meanes? for dowtles that is the cause she now sends for mée, hauing vnderstood of the marriage I am towards.
Concerning which matter truly, full easily mought we haue bin at quiet, if this knaue had not busted himselfe.
Go too, if he be not mad enough of himselfe, doo thou pricke him forward.
Truly forsooth, and euen that is the cause that the woefull woman is in sorrow for.
Mysis I sweare to thée by all the Gods, that I will neuer forsake her, no not if I wist, I should haue all men liuing myne enemies for it. I haue desired this woman in my hart: Shée is fallen to my lot: wée are alike in manners and condition: farewel they, that would set vs two a sunder. There shall none part her from me, but onely death.
I am now come to my selfe.
No not the answeare of God Apollo can be truer than this. Mary I would faine (if it may bée) that my father shall not thinke, that I withstood the going forward of this marriage: But if it may not bée, then will I go the plaine way to woork, that he may thinke that I did withstand it. What manner of man do I seeme?
Euen as forlorn a creature as my selfe.
I séeke for counsaile.
Thou art a valiant man.
Dauus I know whereabout thou goest.
Wel, certeinly I will bring this to passe for you.
It is more than time it were don.
I haue it but euen now to doo.
What is it?
That thou deceiue not thy selfe, I haue it for this mans behoofe, and not for thyne.
That is sufficient for me.
Tell mée I pray thée, what is that thou wilt doo?
I feare me, this day will skant serue me to doo my busines: Thinke not than, that I am now at leisure to discourse: Therefore get yée both away hence, for yée doo but trouble mée.
I will go sée Glycerie.
And what will you? whither away hence?
Wilt thou haue me say the truth?
Nay, now he begins to tell me some long tale.
But what shall become of mée?
Why thou shameles man, is it not well for thée, that I gayne thée one litle dayes respite, in that I doo prolong his marriage?
O Dauus, yet notwithstanding.
What then?
That I may attaine to marry her.
Sée a foole.
Well, looke thou come hither to me, if so hée thou mayst doo any good in the matter.
To what end shall I come? I can do nothing.
But yet if thou may doo ought.
Well, go too, I will come.
Yf thou maist doo any thing, thou shalt finde me at home.
Now he speaketh to Mysis. Mysis doo thou stay here a little for mée, till I come furth againe.
Wherefore?
For a thing that must néedes be don.
Hye thee apace.
I tell thée, I will bée here againe by and by.
Act. 4 Scen. 3.
DAVVS brings the childe before Simoes doore, to thend to driue Chremes backe from accomplishing the marriage. And this scene consists more in gesture, then in vtterance.
- Mysis.
- Dauus.
WHat, can one be sure of nothing in this world? O Lord God, I still thought, that this Pamphilus was my mistres chéefest ioy, as being her frend, her louer, her husband, and one ready to serue her turne in all assayes. But now (alack forlorne woman,) what gréefe takes she for his sake? without doubt there is more harme in this, than there was good in the other. But lo, Dauus comes furth. Abide fellow, what is that, I pray thée? whither away carriest thou the childe?
Mysis, now must I néeds haue thée shew thy ready wit and cunning in this matter.
Where about goest thou?
Take this same childe of me quickly, and lay it downe before our doore.
What I pray thée, on the bare ground?
Take thée some herbes of this alter, and straw vnder it.
And why doest not thou doo it thy selfe?
Bycause if perhaps I shall be driuen to sweare to my maister, that I layd it not there: That then I [Page] may sweare with a safe conscience.
I perceiue you. But yet tell me, I pray thée, how is it come vpon thee to be so holy now of late?
Go too, bestir thée, that thou mayest know further of my minde, what I will doo. O good Lord.
Why, what now?
The Brides father is come, and hath preuented me. Now I leaue of my purpose which I first entended.
I wot not what thou sayest.
I will now make as though I came this other way on the right hand: Sée that thou bée ready to answeare and vphold my talke, in euery point as shall bée néedfull.
I perceiue not at all, what thou intendest to doo. But if there bée any thing that my helpe may stand you in steade, or that thou sée further into the matter than I doo: I will stay here, least you should be hindered of any benefite by my default.
Act. 4. Scen. 4.
CHREMES heareth that Glycerie hath a childe by Pamphilus, and withall that shee is a free borne woman of Athens: by which meanes, he is quite withdrawen from the marriage.
- Chremes.
- Mysis.
- Dauus.
NOw that I haue made all things in a readines for my daughters marriage, I am come againe that I may cause her to be sent for. But what haue we here? In good faith it is a childe: woman didst thou lay this same childe here?
She lookes after Dauus.Whether is this fellow gon?
What, wilt thou not aunswere me?
Alack he is no where in sight, wo is me (poore wench) the fellow is gon his waies, and left me here.
Now Dauus comes a long.Good Lord of heauen, what hurleburley is yonder at the market? how much people is there at strife? without it be that corne be at a high price, I wot not in the world what to make of it.
I pray you sirra, why did you leaue me here all alone?
How now, what tale is this of a rosted horse? Nay but hearest thou me Mysis, whose childe is this? or who brought it hether?
Art thou well in thy wits, that askest me this question?
Whom then should I aske, séeing here is no body els?
This he saith to himselfe. Chremes must be supposed to stand a loof listening vnto all the talke betweene Dauus and Mysis, and yet not shewing himselfe vnto them, but vppon occasion of their talke he oftimes vttereth speaches as to himselfe.I marueil whence it should be?
Wilt thou not tell me what I aske?
Ahlas.
Come thy way hither on my right hand.
Thou rauest, dydst not thou thy selfe?—
Husht, be not so hard for thy eares as to speake one word more than I shall aske thée.
Thou raylest.
Whence is this childe? speake out aloud.
From among you.
Ha ha ha, it is a wonder no doubt, if a hoore play a shameles parte.
He speakes this to himselfeThis maid belongs to her of Andros for ought I can perceiue.
Doo we séeme such fit copesmates for you to mock and dally withall?
To himselfe.I came in time.
Bestur thée quickly, and take a way the childe hence from the doore. This, Dauus speakes in a lower voice, that Chremes may not here him.Abide still, sée thou stur not a foote out of the place thou standst in.
I pray God a very vengeance light on thée, that so dost terrifie me, poore wretch that I am.
Doo I speake to thée or not?
What wouldst thou?
And dost thou yet aske me what? I pray the whose childe hast thou laid here? Tel me.
Dost not thou know?
This he speaketh softly vnto her.Let passe what I know, and tell me what I aske.
It is yours among you.
Which of vs oweth it?
Pamphilus.
This hee repeats alowd bycause Chremes may heare him.Hah, what saydst thou? Is it Pamphilus childe?
Why I pray thée and is it not?
To him self.I sée I did wel alwaies to shun this same marriage.
O notable prank worthie of punishment.
What exclaming makest thou?
Why, did not I sée this same child brought vnto you yesterday in the euening?
O thou brasen faast fellow.
Dauus vrgeth Mysis to proue plainely that the child is borne of Glycerie, least otherwise Chremes should imagin it to be a fayned matter, as Simo doth. Act. 3. Scen. 1.At least I saw Gammar Canthara with her clothes tuckt about her, carrying somewhat in her lap.
In good faith yet I thank GOD with all my hart, [Page] that there were some frée women of the citie, at my mistres deliuerance.
Without doubt she knewe not him, for whose cause she takes this matter in hand. If Chremes shall sée this same childe, layd héere before the doore, then will he not giue his daughter in marriage: Ah, in good sooth he will giue her somuch the sooner.
Meaning by him selfe.But in good sooth he will not.
Now be thou well assured of this, that if thou do not take awaie the childe, I will by and by spurn it into the midst of the strete, where I will trample thée also in the durt.
In good sadnesse fellow, thou art not well in thy wits.
One deceitfull deuise bringes an other to light: I heare now such whispering among them, that this same Glycerie is frée borne of Athens.
Chremes speakes still to himselfe.What is this?
So as he shall be driuen by law to marry her.
Why I pray thée, and is she not frée of this Citie indéede?
I sée I was well nigh fallen into a shrewd sporting game vnawares.
Who talketh here? O Chremes, you come, in as good time as may be: heare me what I shall say.
I haue heard euery word alredy.
What, haue you hard all this talke?
I tell thee I hard all from the beginning.
I pray you and haue you hard it in déede? fye, out vppon these lewd pranks: Now should this same queane be had hence into Bridewell. This same is the man thou dost mock: think not then, that thou mockest Dauus.
Alas for me vnhappy wench that I am: In good sooth, olde father, I haue tolde nothing but truth.
I know the whole matter already: but is Simo within.
Yes.
It seems that Dauus offereth to d [...]ly and play with Mysis, seeking thereby to please her: and shee wil not abide him.Touch me not thou varlet. By God if I tell not all this vnto Glicerie, [neuer credit me.]
Why thou foolish wench, thou perceiuest not what is don.
What should I perceiue?
This man is the brides father: it might not otherwise be compassed, to make him vnderstād these things that we would haue him.
Why then, thou shouldst haue told me so before.
I pray thée now, and dost thou thinke but small difference betwéene that, that one doth in good earnest, and that which is done for the nones.
¶Act. 4. Scen. 5.
CRITO comming from Andres to Athens, enquireth whether Glycerie haue found out who be her parents or no: and vnderstanding that she hath not yet found them, hee is therewith much greeued, bycause that matter doth hinder his enioying of the goods fallen vnto him by Glyceries death.
- Crito, the stranger.
- Mysis.
- Dauus.
IT was tolde me, that héere in this stréete, dwelt Chrysis, who chose rather in this town to gather goods with dishonesty, than to lead an honest poore life, in her owne countrey. By whose death, those same goods, by right of law, are come to me. But I sée now of whom I may [Page] enquire. God spéede you.
I pray you whom doo I sée? Is not this Crito, cosin germain to Chrysis? it is euen he.
O Mysis, God saue you.
And you too good Crito.
Alack for pity, and is Chrysis dead indéede?
Yea truly forsooth, we poore soules are vndon by hir death.
Why, what do you? how goeth the world with you here, all well?
What we? Truly (as the prouerb goeth) Wee doo as wee may, sith wee may not as wee would.
How fares Glycerie, hath she found out yet who be her parents here?
Would God she had.
Why than, & hath she not yet? Than in an il howre am I come hether. For in good faith if I had knowen this, I would neuer haue set foot forward in this iourney. For she hath euer bin held and reputed for Chrysis own sister. She is in present possession of al that y e other had. And now, for me a stranger to go follow sutes and brables in law, how easy and profitable a matter were that for me here to doo, euen the examples of others doo foreshew me. Besides that, I cannot but thinke, that she hath now some frend and defender, for she was of méetely good age and stature, when she went from vs. I should be exclaimed vpon to bée a beggerly fogger, gréedily hunting after heritage. And moreouer, it were no reason to spoyle her of that she hath.
O Gaffar Crito, in good sooth full well dost thou kéepe thy old wont still.
Well, sith I am come hether, bring me to her, that I may yet sée her.
With a very-good will.
I will follow these, but I would not for any thing, that the old man should now sée me.
¶Act. 5. Scen. 1.
SIMO earnestly desireth to effect the marriage: Chremes on the other side vtterly renounceth Pamphilus for his sonne in law, bycause hee hath a childe by Glycerie.
- Chremes.
- Simo.
WEL neighbour Simo, you haue now had tryall enough and enough againe, of my loue and frendship towards you. I began to enter into daunger far enough for you. Now at length cease your entreating: for whyle I bent my selfe to follow your fancie, I had well nigh cast away my doughter.
Nay rather (neighbour Chremes) I most instantly request and beseech you, that you will now performe in déede, the good turne that ere whyle you promised me on your woord.
See how vnreasonable you are, respecting your owne desire: so you may bring to passe what you would haue, you neither regard a meane in courtesie, nor yet consider what you request at my hands: for if you did, you would (now at last) geue ouer to surcharge mee with your vnreasonablenes.
With what vnreasonablenes?
Why, & do you aske me with what? mary sir, you enforced me thus far, that to a loose young man entangled [Page] in loue with a strange harlot, and vtterly misliking marriage, I should giue my daughter to wife, to be in daily discord, and vncertaine state of wedlock, to thend that with her trauail, and trooble, I might heale your sonnes diseas. You obteyned this at my hands, and I went about it while there was any boote: now it boots not, you must therefore beare with me. They say, that same woman is frée born of this Cittie. She is deliuered of a childe. Séeke to vs no further.
I besech you for Gods sake, not to giue your minde to credit those, whose greatest profit groweth by my sonnes lewdest liuing: All this, is but forged and framed for the nones, by reason of this marriage: when the cause why they do this, is once taken away, Then they will cease.
You are diceyued, for I my selfe saw her maide chiding and brawling with Dauus.
I graunt you.
Nay but in right good earnest, when as neither of them both was aware of my being there.
I beléeue it well, and that they would do so, Dauus fortolde me a prety while since, but I wot not how, otherwise than I ment, I forgot to tell you somuch.
¶Act. 5. Scen. 2.
SIMo hearing by Dauus, that there was one come, which affirmed Glycerie to be free borne of Athens: in a great rage, causeth Dauus to be had into prison fast bound. And herein, Terence doth liuely expresse the vsuall manner both of an angry father, and also of an angrie master.
- Dauus.
- Chremes.
- Simo.
- Dromo, the whipping Bedle.
AT my word, now (at length) set your hart at rest:
Thus Simo and Chremes do talk betwixt themselues, & Dauus goeth on still in his speach.Sée where Dauus is.
Thus Simo and Chremes do talk betwixt themselues, & Dauus goeth on still in his speach.Whence comes he?
What thorough my helpe, and yonder stranger.
He speaketh out of Dauus hearing.What knauery is that?
I haue not séene a méeter man, a more seasonable comming, nor a fitter time.
And so heere likewise.Whome doth this varlet prays thus?
Now all is out of danger.
Why doo I linger to speake to him?
Now at last he espyeth Simo.My master is here, what shall I do.
O, all haill to you honest man.
Now master, and master Chremes, all things be in a redines within.
O it is trimly don of you.
Now send for him when you will.
Very well surely: that is the cause forsooth he is now absent: Nay but aunswere me to this, what busines hast thou there? That is in Glyceries house
Who, I?
Yea.
What, I?
Yea, you sirra.
I went in but euen now.
As though I asked how long ago it was.
Your sonne and I went in together.
Why than, and is Pamphilus within? I am still vext vnhappy man that I am. Why thou hangman thou, didst not thou tell me that they are fallen at debate.
So they are.
What makes he there than?
This is spoken in derision.What think you that he is a dooing? he is sure chiding with her.
Nay but master Chremes, you shall here me tel you of a notable strange matter: I wot not what olde man is come yonder euen now, but to looke to, he is a substantiall and warie man: if you sawe his face, you would take him for a right honest man. In his countenance is sad grauitie, and his wordes do sound of truth.
What tydings bringst thou?
Nothing forsooth but what I hard him say.
And what saith he, I pray you?
Mary that he knoweth Glycerie to be a frée born woman of Athens.
Simo calles for him that whips the slaues.Hola howh, Dromo, Dromo.
What is the matter?
Dromo.
Why, here me sir.
If thou speake one word more— Dromo.
I besech you here me.
What would you haue sir?
Hoyse vp this knaue on thy back, and cary him in as fast as thou canst.
Whom?
Dauus.
Wherefore?
Bycause I will haue it so, take him away I say.
What haue I don sir?
Away with him.
If you do finde that I told you any lye, kill me furth right.
I will not here one word: I shall set thée in a beate by and by, I warrant thée.
What, notwithstanding I say nothing but Troth?
He speakes to Dromo.Yea neuerthelesse, sirra sée thou that he be kept fast fetterd: and hearest thou me? binde his hands and féete together, He turnes his speach to Dauus and Pamphilus.Now sir go to: By God if I liue this day to an end, I will teach thée and him both, what danger it is for the one of you to beguile his master, and for the other to deceiue his father.
Tush man, be not in so great a rage.
O Chremes, do you not pitie me, to sée what reuerend regard my sonne hath towards me? and that I should take somuch trauaill for such a sonne? Well go to Pamphilus: Come out here Pamphilus, Is there no shame in thée?
Act. 5. Scen. 3.
SIMO sharply rebuketh his sonne: who confessing his fault, submitteth himselfe wholy vnto his fathers pleasure, Chremes endeuoreth to appease thextreame Rage of Simo.
- Pamphilus.
- Simo.
- Chremes.
WHo calles me? O I am vndone, it is my father.
What saiest thou? thou arrand—
Fie, go to the matter, and cease your euill language.
Yea as though there could be any name to ill for this fellow. Now sirra, doo you say the same too? Is Glycerie frée bone of this Citie?
So it is reported.
So it is reported? O wonderfull impudency, dooth he consider what he sayth, thinke you? is he any thing sorry for his misdéede? Nay but sée, dooth his colour any whit change, or shew any signe of shamefastnes? is it meete he should be so vnruly, as that contrary to the custome of his cuntrimen, contrary to law, and contrary to the minde of his father, hée doo labour to haue that same naughty packe, euen to his vtter infamie and reproche?
Wo is me, forlorne man that I am.
O Pamphilus, Pamphilus, dost thou now perceiue that, and neuer before? Long since ywis, long since, when thou gauest thy mynde so lewdly, as that by one meane or other thou must fulfill thy lust: lo, euen that very first day, had this bin truely sayd of thée. But what meane I? why do I vexe and disquiet my selfe? why doo I consume my selfe with care? why doo I weare my old age, with sorrowing for his madnes? is it, that I should suffer punishment for his faults? Nay rather, let him haue her: and farewell hée: let him liue with her and spare not.
My good father.
What my good father? as who should say, you haue any néede of this father: why, you haue got you house, and wife, and children, and all maugre your fathers hart. There be also those brought, which affirme that same quean to be frée borne of this city: wel, you shall haue the victory.
Father, may I speake a word or twoo?
What wilt thou say to me?
O Simo, yet heare him.
I heare him Chremes? what should I heare him?
Why man, yet geue him leaue to speake.
Well go too, he may speake, I let hm not.
Father, I confesse I loue that same woman: and if that be an offence, I confesse that also. I submit [Page] my selfe into your hands father, lay vppon mee what charge you will: commaund me. Is it your pleasure I should marry a wife? will you haue mée forgo this woman? well, I will beare all as I may. Onely this I beséech you, not to beléeue that this old man is come hether by my appointment. Geue mee leaue to cléere my selfe, and that I may bring the man here before your face.
That thou maist bring him here?
Yea Father, suffer. mée.
He craues but reason, geue him leaue.
Let me obteine this much at your hands.
I am content. Chremes, I yéeld to any thing, so that I finde not my selfe to be deceiued by this fellow.
Small punishment contents a father, for a great offence in his sonne.
¶Act. 5. Scen. 4.
In this scene Crito of Athens meeteth both with Simo and Chremes, wherby the whole error of the comoedy is laid opē: for here, Glycerie is manifested to be the doughter of Chremes.
- Crito, the stranger.
- Chremes.
- Simo.
- Pamphilus.
CEas to pray me, any one of these respects, shall cause mée to doo it: as either for your owne sake, or for that the matter is truth, or in respect that I wish well to Glycerie.
What, is it Crito of Andros that I doo sée? Truly it is hée indéede. Welcome Crito: [Page] what make you at Athens, being here such a stranger?
It is so fallen out. But is this Simo?
This same is hée.
What, is it for mée thou askest? why sirra, dost thou say that Glycerie is frée borne of this Citie?
Doost thou deny it?
What, and art thou come so well prouided indéede.
Why so?
Askest thou why? shalt thou doo this, and scape vnpunished? dost thou toll here into thy snare, yong men voyd of experience, and honestly brought vp? Art thou hée that féedest furth their mindes with intysing & faire promising?
Abyde, art thou well in thy wits?
And dost thou make marriages betwixt them and the harlots that they are in loue withall?
This to himselfe.Alas I am vndon, I feare me the stranger will haue neuer a word to say.
Simo, if you knew this man thorowly, you would not think so of him: this is an honest man.
May this fellow be an honest man? comes he this day so iump in the very time of this marriage: and could he come neuer before now? why Chremes, is this a man to bée beléeued?
Were I not afeard of my father, I could tell him that which would satisfie him in this point well ynough.
Hah fogging knaue.
What?
O Crito beare with him, this is his fashon.
Nay let him consider what he is: As for me, if hée procéede to call mée at his pleasure, hée shall heare that, that shall bée litle to his lyking. Doo I let that same marriage? or doo I ought at all passe [Page] for it? He turnes his speech to Simo.Thou dost not beare thy gréefe patiently: for as touching what I spake, whether it bée true or false that you heard, may soone be knowen.
Here is recited the argument of the Comoedie.A certaine man of Athens, a good while since, suffring Shipwracke, was cast on shore at Andros, together with that same Glycerie, as than a little childe. This man being than in néede & necessitie: by chaunce first arriued at the house of Chrysis father.
Now he beginnes a fable.
Suffer him to go on.
What, euen so indéede? hée interrupts me.
Go on with your tale.
Moreouer, hée which receiued him into his house, was my Cosin: there did I heare the man himselfe say, that hée was of Athens: and in that house he died.
What was his name?
would you know his name so quickly? Phania.
Out alas to day.
In good sooth, I take it, his name was Phania. This I am well assured of, that he said he was a Rhamnus was a famous village by Athens. And Rhamnusius, [...] is a mā of that village. Rhamnusian.
O the King of heauen.
Yea Chremes, there were than many other in Andros, which hard him say the same.
Would to God it were no otherwise than I hope for. But tell me this Crito, what said he than as touching the girle? dyd hée say that shée was his doughter?
No.
Whose than?
His brothers doughter.
Without dowt she is myne.
What say you?
Nay what saiest thou?
Listen to this geare Pamphilus.
What think you of this?
That same Phania was my brother.
I knew the man, and I wot wel he was your brother.
He flying hence, for feare of the warre, takes his way after me into Asia, and than he was afraid to leaue her here behind him. Since which time, I neuer hard what became of him till now.
I am well nigh beside my selfe, my minde is so whelmed, with feare, hope, Ioy, and with wondring at so great, and so sodeyn good hap.
Now in good faith, I am glad that by many proofs she is found to be your daughter.
Father I beléeue it well.
But there remaines yet one doubt, which sore troubles me.
You are well worthie to be hated for your péeuish precisenes: you make a doubt where all is as plaine as a pack staf.
What is that you doubt of?
Her name falles not out right.
Truly she had an other name, when she was a childe.
What name? Cannot you remember it Crito?
I am calling it to minde.
Shall I suffer this mans memory to be a hinderance vnto my wished ioy, when as I may helpe my selfe in this point? no, I will not suffer it. Lo you heare Cremes, the name you séeke for, is Passibula.
That same is she.
Is it euen she.
she hath told it me her own self a thousād times.
Chremes, I wene you beleue that we all reioyce at this.
Yea so God me help, doo I beleue it.
Father, what remaines now to be don?
The matter it selfe hath reconciled me a good while since.
O an excellent father. Chremes altereth nothing as touching my wife, but that I may still enioy her, as I haue don.
Mary and good cause why. Vnlesse your father say otherwise.
Onely, as touching the dowry.
Yea marry, that.
Pamphilus her dowry is fiue hundered pound.
I accept it.
I will now hye me to my daughter, and you Crito, go with me: for I beleue she neuer knew me.
And why doo you not rather cause her to be brought hether to you?
You put vs well in minde, I will presently cause Dauus to go about that matter.
He cannot.
How so?
Mary bycause he hath a great matter of his own, which toucheth him néerer.
What is that?
He lieth bound in prison.
Father, then is he wrongfully bound.
Not so, I commaunded it.
I beseche you, command that he be let loose.
Go to, be it so.
But make hast than.
I go in straight way.
O Blisfull and happy day that this is.
¶Act. 5. Scen. 5.
PAMPHILVS declareth vnto Dauus, how that Glycerie is found to be free borne of Athens, & that he shall marry her Likewise Carinus sheweth vnto Pamphilus, that by his meanes, he also may obtaine Philumena at Chremes hands. This Scene brings an other sonne in law to Chremes: least that either Carinus should depart away sorowfull, or that Philumena should be left vnprouided for.
- Carinus.
- Pamphilus.
- Dauus.
I I am come furth, to sée what Pamphilus is a doing: but lo where he is.
Perhaps some body would think that I skant beleue this to be true, but I will haue it to be true, as it is in déede. I suppose that therefore the lyfe of the Gods is euerlasting, bycause pleasures do properly belong vnto them: for mine own part, I am in heauen al redy, if so be it, no griefe of minde doo intermingle with this ioy. But now what man should I most specially desire to méete withall, to whome I might shew all that hath happened.
This to himselfe.What great ioy is that?
Lo, I see Dauus: There is no man liuing that I would fayner haue: for I am sure that he, of all other, will vnfainedly reioyce at my ioy and gladnesse.
whereabout here, is Pamphilus?
Dauus.
What man is that?
It is I.
O my master Pamphilus.
Thou wotst not what hath hapned to me.
Very true, but I wot well what hath hapned to my selfe.
And so doo I too.
Yea it came to pas after the common course of the world, that you knew of the euil that hapned to me, sooner than I knew of the good that hapned to you.
My swéete loue Glycerie, hath found out who be her parents.
O happy chaunce.
This he saith to himselfe.What is that?
Her father is a very speciall frend of ours.
Who is that?
Chremes.
You say well.
Neither is there any let or tariance, but that I may marry her out of hand.
This is spoken out of the hearing of Pamphilus.What, doth he not dreame trow you, that which his minde ran vpon being awake?
Now moreouer Dauus, as touching the childe.
Tush let it alone, God doth specially prouide for it aboue all other children.
Carinus is ouer heard by Pamphilus.I am a made man, if this be true: I will sure speake with him.
What man is there? O Carinus, you come to me, euen as well as heart can wish.
It is well.
What, haue you heard the matter?
Yes euery whit: Go to, haue some respect of me, now in the time of your prosperitie: I know that Chremes is now yours altogether, and will doo all that you will haue him doo.
I wot it full well: but it would be too long for vs, to tarry and looke for his comming furth:
[Page]Therefore follow me along this way: he is now within with Glicerie. Dauus go thou thy way home: hye thée, go for company to bring her away hence. Why dost thou stand still? why goest thou not?
I am going.
This seems not to he spoken by any of the interloquutors, but by some other comming last on the stage.Do not stay looking for their comming out: for shée shall be betrothed within: and if any thing more remaine to be don, it shall bée dispatcht within also.
Now clap hands, and reioyce.
Here is to be vnderstood that as Pamphilus hath Glycerie to wife: Euen so Carinus likewise hath Philumena, the other Doughter of Chremes.