Chapter XVIII: Act II: ENTER Eunomia AND Megadorus FROM LATTER’S HOUSE

_Eun._

Velim te arbitrari med haec verba, frater, 120
meai fidei tuaique rei
causa facere, ut aequom est germanam sororem.
quamquam haud falsa sum nos odiosas haberi;
nam multum loquaces merito omnes habemur,
nec mutam profecto repertam ullam esse
aut hodie dicunt mulierem aut ullo in saeclo.

Brother, I do hope you’ll believe I say this out of my
loyalty to you and for your welfare, as a true sister
should. Of course I’m well enough aware you men think us
women are a bother; yes, awful chatterboxes--that’s the name
we all have, and (_ruefully_) it fits. And then that
common saying, “Never now, nor through the ages, never any
woman dumb.”

verum hoc, frater, unum tamen cogitato,
tibi proximam me mihique esse item te;
ita aequom est quod in rem esse utrique arbitremur
et mihi te et tibi me consulere et monere; 130
neque occultum id haberi neque per metum mussari,
quin participem pariter ego te et tu me ut facias,
eo nunc ego secreto ted huc foras seduxi,
ut tuam rem ego tecum hic loquerer familiarem.

But just the same, do remember this one thing, brother,--
that I am closer to you and you to me than anyone else in
the whole world. So both of us ought to advise and counsel
each other as to what we feel is to either’s advantage, not
keep such things back or be afraid to speak out openly, we
ought to confide in one another fully, you and I. This is
why I’ve taken you aside out here now--so that we can have
a quiet talk on a matter that concerns you intimately.

_Mega._

Da mi, optuma femina, manum.

(_warmly_) Let’s have your hand, you best of women!

_Eun._

Ubi ea est? quis ea est nam optuma?

(_pretending to look about_) Where is she? Who on earth is
that best of women?

_Mega._

Tu.

Yourself.

_Eun._

Tune ais?

You say that--you?

_Mega._

Si negas, nego.

(_banteringly_) Oh well, if you deny it--

_Eun._

Decet te equidem vera proloqui;
nam optuma nulla potest eligi:
alia alia peior, frater, est.

Really now, you ought to be truthful. There’s no such
thing, you know, as picking out the best woman; it’s only a
question of comparative badness, brother.

_Mega._

Idem ego arbitror, 140
nec tibi advorsari certum est de istac re umquam, soror.

My own opinion precisely. I’ll never differ with you there,
sister, you may count on that.

_Eun._

Da mihi operam amabo.

Now do give me your attention, there’s a dear.

_Mega._

Tuast, utere atque impera, si quid vis.

It is all your own; use me, command me--anything you wish.

_Eun._

Id quod in rem tuam optumum esse arbitror, ted id monitum advento.

I’m going to advise you to do something that I think will be
the very best thing in the world for you.

_Mega_

Soror, more tuo facis.

Quite like you, sister.

_Eun._

Factum volo.

I certainly hope so.

_Mega._

Quid est id, soror?

And what is this something, my dear?

_Eun._

Quod tibi sempiternum
salutare sit: liberis procreandis--
ita di faxint--volo te uxorem
domum ducere.

Something that will make for your everlasting welfare. You
should have children. God grant you may!--and I want you to
marry.

_Mega._

Ei occidi.

Oh-h-h, murder!

_Eun._

Quid ita? 150

How so?

_Mega._

Quia mihi misero cerebrum excutiunt
tua dicta, soror: lapides loqueris.

Well, you’re knocking my poor brains out with such a
proposition, my dear girl: you’re talking cobble-stones.

_Eun._

Heia, hoc face quod te iubet soror.

Now, now, do what your sister tells you.

_Mega._

Si lubeat, faciam.

I would, if it appealed to me.

_Eun._

In rem hoc tuam est.

It would be a good thing for you.

_Mega._

Ut quidem emoriar prius quam ducam.
sed his legibus si quam dare vis ducam:
quae cras veniat, perendie foras feratur;
his legibus dare vis? cedo: nuptias adorna.

Yes--to die before marrying. (_pause_) All right. I’ll marry
anyone you please, on this condition, though: her wedding
to-morrow, and her wake the day after. Still wish it, on
this condition? Produce her! Arrange for the
festivities!

_Eun._

Cum maxima possum tibi, frater, dare dote;
sed est grandior natu: media est mulieris aetas.
eam si iubes, frater, tibi me poscere, poscam. 160

I can get you one with ever so big a dowry, dear. To be
sure, she’s not a young girl--middle-aged, as a matter of
fact. I’ll see about it for you, brother, if you want.

_Mega._

Num non vis me interrogare te?

You don’t mind my asking you a question, I dare say?

_Eun._

Immo, si quid vis, roga.

Why, of course not; anything you like.

_Mega._

Post mediam aetatem qui media ducit uxorem domum,
si eam senex anum praegnatem fortuito fecerit,
quid dubitas, quin sit paratum nomen puero Postumus?

Now supposing a man pretty well on in life marries a lady
of maturity and this aged female should happen to show
intentions of making the old fellow a father--can you doubt
but that the name in store for that youngster is Postumus?[A]

[Footnote A: The last born, or born after the father’s
death.]

nunc ego istum, soror, laborem demam et deminuam tibi.
ego virtute deum et maiorum nostrum dives sum satis.
istas magnas factiones, animos, dotes dapsiles,
clamores, imperia, eburata vehicla, pallas, purpuram,
nil moror quae in servitutem sumptibus redigunt viros.

See here, sister, I’ll relieve you of all this and save
you trouble. I’m rich enough, thanks be to heaven and our
forbears. And I have no fancy at all for those ladies of
high station and hauteur and fat dowries, with their
shouting and their ordering and their ivory trimmed
carriages and their purple and fine linen that cost a
husband his liberty.

_Eun._

Dic mihi, quaeso, quis ea est quam vis ducere uxorem?

For mercy’s sake tell me who you do want to marry, then!

_Mega._

Eloquar. 170
nostin hunc senem Euclionem ex proximo pauperculum?

I’m going to. You know the old gentleman--rather hard up,
poor fellow,--that lives next door, Euclio?

_Eun._

Novi, hominem haud malum mecastor.

Yes indeed. Why, he seems quite nice.

_Mega._

Eius cupio filiam
virginem mihi desponderi. verba ne facias, soror.
scio quid dictura es: hanc esse pauperem. haec pauper placet.

It’s his daughter--there’s the engagement I’m eager for. Now
don’t make a fuss, sister. I know what you’re about to say--
that she’s poor. But this particular poor girl suits me.

_Eun._

Di bene vortant.

God’s blessing on your choice, dear!

_Mega._

Idem ego spero.

I trust so.

_Eun._

Quid me? num quid vis?

(_about to leave_) Well, there’s nothing I can do?

_Mega._

Vale.

Yes--take good care of yourself.

_Eun._

Et tu, frater.

You too, brother. [EXIT _Eunomia_.

_Mega._

Ego conveniam Euclionem, si domi est.
sed eccum video. nescio unde sese homo recipit domum.

Now for an interview with Euclio, if he’s at home.
(_looking down street_) Hullo, though! here he is! Just
getting back from somewhere or other.

II. 2.

Scene 2.

ENTER _Euclio._

_Eucl._

Praesagibat mi animus frustra me ire, quom exibam domo;
itaque abibam invitus; nam neque quisquam curialium
venit neque magister quem dividere argentum oportuit. 180
nunc domum properare propero, nam egomet sum hic, animus domi est.

(_without seeing Megadorus_) I knew it! Something told me I
was going on a fool’s errand when I left the house; that’s
why I hated to go. Why, there wasn’t a single man of our
ward there, or the director either, who ought to have
distributed the money. Now I’ll hurry up and hurry home:
I’m here in the body, but that’s where my mind is.

_Mega._

Salvos atque fortunatus, Euclio, semper sies.

(_advancing with outstretched hand_) Good day to you,
Euclio, yes, and the best of everything to you always!

_Eucl._

Di te ament, Megadore.

(_taking hand gingerly_) God bless you, Megadorus.

_Mega._

Quid tu? recten atque ut vis vales?

How goes it? All right, are you? Feeling as well as you
could wish?

_Eucl._

Non temerarium est, ubi dives blande appellat pauperem.
iam illic homo aurum scit me habere, eo me salutat blandius.

(_aside_) There’s something behind it when a rich man puts
on that smooth air with a poor one. Now that fellow knows
I’ve got gold: that’s why he’s so uncommon smooth with his
salutations.

_Mega._

Ain tu te valere?

You say you are well?

_Eucl._

Pol ego haud perbene a pecunia.

Heavens, no: I feel low, very low--in funds.

_Mega._

Pol si est animus aequos tibi. sat habes qui bene vitam colas.

(_cheerily_) Well, well, man, if you have a contented mind,
you’ve got enough to enjoy life with.

_Eucl._

Anus hercle huic indicium fecit de auro, perspicue palam est.
cui ego iam linguam praecidam atque oculos effodiam domi.

(_aside, frightened_) Oh, good Lord! The old woman has let
on to him about the gold! It’s discovered, clear as can be!
I’ll cut her tongue out, I’ll tear her eyes out, the minute
I get at her in the house!

_Mega._

Quid tu solus tecum loquere?

What is that you’re saying to yourself?

_Eucl._

Meam pauperiem conqueror. 190
virginem habeo grandem, dote cassam atque inlocabilem,
neque eam queo locare cuiquam.

(_startled_) Just ... how awful it is to be poor. And I with
a grown-up girl, without a penny of dowry, that I can’t get
off my hands or find a husband for.

_Mega._

Tace, bonum habe animum, Euclio.
dabitur, adiuvabere a me. dic, si quid opust, impera.

(_clapping him on the back_) There, there, Euclio! Cheer up.
She shall be married: I’ll help you out. Come now, call on
me, if you need anything.

_Eucl._

Nunc petit, cum pollicetur; inhiat aurum ut devoret.
altera manu fert lapidem, panem ostentat altera.
nemini credo qui large blandust dives pauperi
ubi manum inicit benigne, ibi onerat aliqua zamia
ego istos novi polypos, qui ubi quidquid tetigerunt tenent.

(_aside_) When he agrees to give he wants to grab! Mouth
wide open to gobble down my gold! Holds up a bit of bread in
one hand and has a stone in the other! I don’t trust one of
these rich fellows when he’s so monstrous civil to a poor
man. They give you a cordial handshake, and squeeze
something out of you at the same time. I know all about
those octopuses that touch a thing and then--stick.

_Mega._

Da mi operam parumper. paucis, Euclio, est quod te volo
de communi re appellare mea et tua.

I should be glad to have a moment of your time, Euclio.
I want to have a brief talk with you on a matter that
concerns us both.

_Eucl._

Ei misero mihi, 200
aurum mi intus harpagatum est. nunc hic eam rem volt scio,
mecum adire ad pactionem. verum intervisam domum.

(_aside_) Oh, God save us! My gold’s been hooked, and now he
wants to make a deal with me! I see it all! But I’ll go in
and look. (_hurries toward house_)

_Mega._

Quo abis?

Where are you off to?

_Eucl._

Iam ad te revortar. nunc est quod visam domum.

Just a moment!... I’ll be back ... the fact is ... I must
see to something at home. [EXIT INTO HOUSE.

_Mega._

Credo edepol, ubi mentionem ego fecero de filia
mi ut despondeat, sese a me derideri rebitur,
neque illo quisquam est alter hodie ex paupertate parcior.

By Jove! I suppose he’ll think I’m making fun of him when I
speak about his giving me his daughter; poverty never made a
fellow closer-fisted.

RE-ENTER _Euclio_

_Eucl._

Di me servant, salva res est. salvom est si quid non perit
nimis male timui. prius quam intro redii, exanimatus fui.
redeo ad te, Megadore, si quid me vis.

(_aside_) Thank the Lord, I’m saved! It’s safe--that is, if
it’s all there. Ah, but that was a dreadful moment! I nearly
expired before I got in the house. (_to Megadorus_) Here I
am, Megadorus, if you want anything of me.

_Mega._

Habeo gratiam.
quaeso, quod te percontabor, ne id te pigeat pro loqui. 210

Thanks. Now I trust you won’t mind answering the questions
I’m going to ask.

_Eucl._

Dum quidem ne quid perconteris quod non lubeat proloqui.

(_cautiously_) No-no--that is, if you don’t ask any I don’t
like to answer.

_Mega._

Dic mihi. quali me arbitrare genere prognatum?

Frankly now, what do you think of my family connections?

_Eucl._

Bono.

(_grudgingly_) Good.

_Mega._

Quid fide?

And my sense of honour?

_Eucl._

Bona.

Good.

_Mega._

Quid factis?

And my general conduct?

_Eucl._

Neque malis neque improbis.

Not bad, not disreputable.

_Mega._

Aetatem meam scis?

You know my age?

_Eucl._

Scio esse grandem, item ut pecuniam.

Getting on, getting on, I know that--(_aside_) financially, too.

_Mega._

Certe edepol equidem te civem sine mala omni malitia
semper sum arbitratus et nunc arbitror.

Now Euclio, I’ve always considered you a citizen of the
true, trusty type, by Jove, I certainly have, and I do
still.

_Eucl._

Aurum huic olet.
quid nunc me vis?

(_aside_) He’s got a whiff of my gold. (_aloud_) Well, what
do you want?

_Mega._

Quoniam tu me et ego te qualis sis scio.
quae res recte vortat mihique tibique tuaeque filiae,
filiam tuam mi uxorem posco. promitte hoc fore.

Now that we appreciate each other, I’m going to ask you--and
may it turn out happily for you and your girl and me--to
give me your daughter in marriage. Promise you will.

_Eucl._

Heia, Megadore, haud decorum facinus tuis factis facis, 220
ut inopem atque innoxium abs te atque abs tuis me inrideas.
nam de te neque re neque verbis merui ut faceres quod facis.

(_whining_) Now, now, Megadorus! This is unlike you,
unworthy of you, making fun of a poor man like me that never
harmed you or yours. Why, I never said or did a thing to you
to deserve being treated so.

_Mega._

Neque edepol ego te derisum venio neque derideo,
neque dignum arbitror.

Good Lord, man! I didn’t come here to make fun of you, and
I’m not making fun of you: I couldn’t think of such a thing.

_Eucl._

Cur igitur poscis meam gnatam tibi?

Then why are you asking for my daughter?

_Mega._

Ut propter me tibi sit melius mihique propter te et tuos.

Why? So that we may all of us make life pleasanter for one
another.

_Eucl._

Venit hoc mihi, Megadore, in mentem, ted esse hominem divitem,
factiosum, me autem esse hominem pauperum pauperrimum;
nunc si filiam locassim meam tibi, in mentem venit
te bovem esse et me esse asellum: ubi tecum coniunctus siem,
ubi onus nequeam ferre pariter, iaceam ego asinus in luto, 230
tu me bos magis haud respicias, gnatus quasi numquam siem.

Now here’s the way it strikes me, Megadorus,--you’re a rich
man, a man of position: but as for me, I’m poor, awfully
poor, dreadfully poor. Now if I was to marry off my daughter
to you, it strikes me you’d be the ox and I’d be the donkey.
When I was hitched up with you and couldn’t pull my share of
the load, down I’d drop, I, the donkey, in the mud; and you,
the ox, wouldn’t pay any more attention to me than if I’d
never been born at all.

et te utar iniquiore et meus me ordo inrideat,
neutrubi habeam stabile stabulum, si quid divorti fuat:
asini me mordicibus scindant, boves incursent cornibus.
hoc magnum est periclum, ab asinis ad boves transcendere.

You would be too much for me: and my own kind would haw-haw
at me: and if there should be a falling out, neither party
would let me have stable quarters: the donkeys would chew me
up and the oxen would run me through. It is a very hazardous
business for donkeys to climb into the ox set.

_Mega._

Quam ad probos propinquitate proxime te adiunxeris.
tam optumum est. tu condicionem hanc accipe, ausculta mihi,
atque eam desponde mi.

But honourable human beings--the more closely connected you
are with them, the better. Come, come, accept my offer:
listen to what I say and promise her to me.

_Eucl._

At nihil est dotis quod dem.

But not one penny of dowry can I give.

_Mega._

Ne duas.
dum modo morata recte veniat, dotata est satis.

Don’t. Only let me have a girl that’s good, and she has
dowry enough.

_Eucl._

Eo dico, ne me thensauros repperisse censeas. 240

(_forcing a laugh_) I mention this just so that you mayn’t
think I’ve found some treasure.

_Mega._

Novi, ne doceas. desponde.

Yes, yes, I understand. Promise.

_Eucl._

Fiat. sed pro Iuppiter,
num ego disperii?

So be it. (_aside, starting at noise_) Oh, my God! Can it be
I’m ruined, ruined?

_Mega._

Quid tibi est?

What’s the matter?

_Eucl._

Quid crepuit quasi ferrum modo?

That noise? What was it--a sort of clinking sound?
[EXIT INTO HOUSE HURRIEDLY.

_Mega._

Hic apud me hortum confodere iussi. sed ubi hic est homo?
abiit neque me certiorem fecit. fastidit mei,
quia videt me suam amicitiam velle. more hominum facit;
nam si opulentus it petitum pauperioris gratiam,
pauper metuit congrediri, per metum male rem gerit.
idem, quando occasio illaec periit, post sero cupit.

(_not noticing his departure_) I told them to do some
digging in my garden here. (_looking around_) But where
is the man? Gone away and left me--without a word! Scorns
me, now he sees I desire his friendship! Quite the usual
thing, that. Yes, let a wealthy man try to get the regard
of a poorer one, and the poor one is afraid to meet him
half-way: his timidity makes him injure his own interests.
Then when it’s too late and the opportunity is gone he
longs to have it again.

RE-ENTER _Euclio._

_Eucl._

Si hercle ego te non elinguandam dedero usque ab radicibus, 250
impero auctorque ego sum, ut tu me cuivis castrandum loces.

(_to Staphyla within_) By heaven, if I don’t have your
tongue torn out by the very roots, I give you orders, give
you full authority, to hand me over to anyone you please to
be skinned alive. (_approaches Megadorus_)

_Mega._

Video hercle ego te me arbitrari, Euclio, hominem idoneum,
quem senecta aetate ludos facias, haud merito meo.

Upon my word, Euclio! So you think I am the proper sort of
man to make a fool of, at my time of life, and without the
slightest reason.

_Eucl._

Neque edepol, Megadore, facio, neque. si cupiam, copia est.

Bless my soul! I’m not making a fool of you, Megadorus:
I couldn’t if I would.

_Mega._

Quid nunc? etiam mihi despondes filiam?

(_doubtfully_) Well now, do you mean I am to have your
daughter?

_Eucl._

Illis legibus,
cum illa dote quam tibi dixi.

On the understanding she goes with the dowry I mentioned.

_Mega._

Sponden ergo?

You consent, then?

_Eucl._

Spondeo.

I consent.

_Mega._

Di bene vertant.

And may God prosper us!

_Eucl._

Ita di faxint. illud facito ut memineris
convenisse ut ne quid dotis mea ad te afferret filia.

Yes, yes,--and mind you remember our agreement about the
dowry: she doesn’t bring you a single penny.

_Mega._

Memini.

I remember.

_Eucl._

At scio quo vos soleatis pacto perplexarier.
pactum non pactum est, non pactum pactum est, quod vobis lubet. 260

But I know the way you folks have of juggling things: now
it’s on and now it’s off, now it’s off and now it’s on, just
as you like.

_Mega._

Nulla controversia mihi tecum erit. sed nuptias
num quae causa est quin faciamus hodie?

You shall have no occasion to quarrel with me. But about the
marriage--there’s no reason for not having it to-day, is
there?

_Eucl._

Immo edepol optuma.

Dear, dear, no! The very thing, the very thing!

_Mega._

Ibo igitur, parabo. numquid me vis?

I’ll go and make arrangements, then, (_turning to leave_)
Anything else I can do?

_Eucl._

Istuc. ei et vale.

Only that. Go along. Good-bye.

_Mega._

Heus, Pythodice, sequere propere me ad macellum strenue.

(_calling at the door of his house_) Hey, Pythodicus! quick!
[_ENTER Pythodicus_] Down to the market with me--come, look
alive! [EXEUNT.

_Eucl._

Illic hinc abiit. di immortales, obsecro, aurum quid valet.[1] (265)
id inhiat, ea affinitatem hanc obstinavit gratia. (267)
Ubi tu es, quae deblateravisti iam vicinis omnibus,
meae me filiae daturum dotem? heus, Staphyla, te voco.
ecquid audis?

(_looking after them_) He’s gone! Ah, ye immortal gods,
doesn’t money count! That is what he’s gaping after. That is
why he’s so set on being my son-in-law. (_goes to the door
and calls_) Where are you, you blabber, telling the whole
neighbourhood I’m going to give my daughter a dowry! Hi-i!
Staphyla! It’s you I’m calling. Can’t you hear!

II. 3.

Scene 3.

ENTER _Staphyla_.

_Eucl._

Vascula intus pure propera atque elue: 270
filiam despondi ego: hodie huic nuptum Megadoro dabo.

Hurry up with the dishes inside there and give them a good
scouring. I have betrothed my daughter: she marries
Megadorus here to-day.

_Staph._

Di bene vortant. verum ecastor non potest, subitum est nimis.

God bless them! (_hastily_) Goodness, though! It can’t be
done. This is too sudden.

_Eucl._

Tace atque abi. curata fac sint cum a foro redeam domum;
atque aedis occlude; iam ego hic adero.

Silence! Off with you! Have things ready by the time I get
back from the forum. And lock the door, mind; I shall be
here soon. [EXIT Euclio.

_Staph._

Quid ego nunc agam?
nunc nobis prope adest exitium, mi atque erili filiae,
nunc probrum atque partitudo prope adest ut fiat palam;
quod celatum atque occultatum est usque adhuc, nunc non potest.
ibo intro, ut erus quae imperavit facta, cum veniat, sient.
nam ecastor malum maerore metuo ne mixtum bibam.

What shall I do now? Now we’re all but ruined, the young
mistress and me: now it’s all but public property about her
being disgraced and brought to bed. We can’t conceal it, we
can’t keep it dark any longer now. But I must go in and do
what master ordered me before he gets back. Oh deary me! I’m
afraid I’ve got to take a drink of trouble and tribulation
mixed. [EXIT _Staphyla_ INTO HOUSE.

II. 4.

Scene 4.

(_An hour has elapsed._)

ENTER _Pythodicus_ BRINGING COOKS, _Anthrax_ AND _Congrio_,
MUSIC GIRLS, _Phrygia_ AND _Eleusium_, AND ATTENDANTS, WITH
PROVISIONS FROM THE MARKET AND TWO LAMBS.

_Pyth._

Postquam obsonavit erus et conduxit coquos 280
tibicinasque hasce apud forum, edixit mihi
ut dispertirem obsonium hic bifariam.

(_importantly_) After master did the marketing and hired the
cooks and these music girls at the forum, he told me to take
and divide all he’d got into two parts.

_Anthr._

Me quidem hercle, dicam tibi palam, non divides.
si quo tu totum me ire vis, operam dabo.

By Jupiter, you shan’t make two parts of me, let me tell you
that plainly! If you’d like to have the whole of me
anywhere, why, I’ll accommodate you.

_Cong._

Bellum et pudicum vero prostibulum popli.
post si quis vellet, te hand non velles dividi.

(_to Anthrax_) You pretty boy, yes, you nice little
everybody’s darling, you! Why, if anyone wanted to make two
parts of a real man out of you, you oughtn’t to be cut up
about it.

_Pyth._

Atque ego istuc, Anthrax, alio vorsum dixeram,
non istuc quo tu insimulas. sed erus nuptias
meus hodie faciet.

Now, now, Anthrax, I mean that otherwise from what you make
out. Look here, my master’s marrying to-day.

_Anthr._

Cuius ducit filiam?

Who’s the lady?

_Pyth._

Vicini huius Euclionis senis e proximo. 290
ei adeo obsoni hinc iussit dimidium dari,
cocum alterum itidemque alteram tibicinam.

Daughter of old Euclio that lives next door here. Yes sir,
and what’s more, he’s to have half this stuff here, and one
cook and one music girl, too, so master said.

_Anthr._

Nempe huc dimidium dicis, dimidium domum?

You mean to say half goes to him and half to you folks?

_Pyth._

Nempe sicut dicis.

Just what I do mean.

_Anthr._

Quid? hic non poterat de suo
senex obsonari filiai nuptiis?

I say, couldn’t the old boy pay for the catering for his
daughter’s wedding his own self?

_Pyth._

Vah.

(_scornfully_) Pooh!

_Anthr._

Quid negotist?

What’s the matter?

_Pyth._

Quid negoti sit rogas?
pumex non aeque est aridus atque hic est senex.

The matter, eh? You couldn’t squeeze as much out of that old
chap as you could out of a pumice stone.

_Anthr._

Ain tandem?

(_incredulously_) Oh, really now!

_Pyth._

Ita esse ut dixi. tute existuma:
quin divom atque hominum clamat continue fidem,[2]
suam rem periisse seque eradicarier, 300
de suo tigillo fumus si qua exit foras.
quin cum it dormitum, follem obstringit ob gulam.

That’s a fact. Judge for yourself. Why, I tell you he begins
bawling for heaven and earth to witness that he’s bankrupt,
gone to everlasting smash, the moment a puff of smoke from
his beggarly fire manages to get out of his house. Why, when
he goes to bed he strings a bag over his jaws.

_Anthr._

Cur?

What for?

_Pyth._

Ne quid animae forte amittat dormiens.

So as not to chance losing any breath when he’s asleep.

_Anthr._

Etiamue obturat inferiorem gutturem,
ne quid animai forte amittat dormiens?

Oh yes! And he puts a stopper on his lower windpipe, doesn’t
he, so as not to chance losing any breath while he’s asleep?

_Pyth._

Haec mihi te ut tibi med aequom est, credo, credere.

(_ingenuously_) You should believe me, I believe, just
as I should believe you.

_Anthr._

Immo equidem credo.

(_hurriedly_) Oh, no, no! I do believe, of course!

_Pyth._

At scin etiam quomodo?
aquam hercle plorat, cum lavat, profundere.

But listen to this, will you? Upon my word, after he takes a
bath it just breaks him all up to throw away the water.

_Anthr._

Censen talentum magnum exorari pote
ab istoc sene ut det, qui fiamus liberi? 310

D’ye think the old buck could be induced to make us a
present of a couple of hundred pounds to buy ourselves off
with?

_Pyth._

Famem hercle utendam si roges, numquam dabit.
quin ipsi pridem tonsor unguis dempserat:
collegit, omnia abstulit praesegmina.

Lord! He wouldn’t make you a loan of his hunger, no sir, not
if you begged him for it. Why, the other day when a barber
cut his nails for him he collected all the clippings and
took ’em home.

_Anthr._

Edepol mortalem parce parcum praedicas.

My goodness, he’s quite a tight one, from what you say.

_Pyth._

Censen vero adeo esse parcum et miserum vivere?
pulmentum pridem ei eripuit milvos:
homo ad praetorem plorabundus devenit;
infit ibi postulare plorans, eiulans,
ut sibi liceret milvom vadarier.
sescenta sunt quae memorem, si sit otium. 320
sed uter vestrorum est celerior? memora mihi.

Honest now, would you believe a man could be so tight and
live so wretched? Once a kite flew off with a bit of food of
his: down goes the fellow to the magistrate’s, blubbering
all the way, and there he begins, howling and yowling,
demanding to have the kite bound over for trial. Oh, I could
tell hundreds of stories about him if I had time. (_to both
cooks_) But which of you is the quicker? Tell me that.

_Anthr._

Ego, et multo melior.

I am, and a whole lot better, too.

_Pyth._

Cocum ego, non furem rogo.

At cooking I mean, not thieving.

_Anthr._

Cocum ergo dico.

Well, I mean cooking.

_Pyth._

Quid tu ais?

(_to Congrio_) And how about you?

_Cong._

Sic sum ut vides.

(_with a meaning glance at Anthrax_) I’m what I look.

_Anthr._

Cocus ille nundinalest, in nonum diem
solet ire coctum.

He’s nothing but a market-day cook, that chap: he only gets
a job once a week.

_Cong._

Tun, trium litterarum homo
me vituperas? fur.

You running me down, you? You five letter man, you! You
T-H-I-E-F!

_Anthr._

Etiam fur, trifurcifer.

Five letter man youself! Yes, and five times--penned!

II. 5.

Scene 5.

_Pyth._

Tace nunciam tu, atque agnum hinc uter est pinguior
cape atque abi intro ad nos.

(_to Anthrax_) Come, come, shut up, you: and this fattest
lamb here, (_pointing_) take it and go over to our house.

_Anthr._

Licet.

(_grinning triumphantly at Congrio_) Aye, aye, sir.

[EXIT _Anthrax_ INTO HOUSE OF _Megadorus_ LEADING LAMB.

_Pyth._

Tu, Congrio,
quem illic reliquit agnum, eum sume atque abi
[3]intro illuc, et vos illum sequimini.
vos ceteri ite huc ad nos.

Congrio, you take this one he’s left (_pointing_) and go
into that house there, (_pointing to Euclio’s_) and as for
you, (_indicating some of the attendants_) you follow him.
The rest of you come over to our house.

_Cong._

Hercle iniuria 330
dispertivisti: pinguiorem agnum isti habent.

Hang it! That’s no way to divide: they’ve got the fattest
lamb.

_Pyth._

At nunc tibi dabitur pinguior tibicina.
i sane cum illo, Phrugia. tu autem, Eleusium,
huc intro abi ad nos.

Oh well, I’ll give you the fattest music girl. (_turning to
girls_) That means you, Phrygia: you go with him. As for
you, Eleusium, you step over to our place.
[EXEUNT _Eleusium_ AND OTHERS INTO HOUSE OF _Megadorus_.

_Cong._

O Pythodice subdole,
hucine detrusti me ad senem parcissimum?
ubi si quid poscam, usque ad ravim poscam prius
quam quicquam detur.

Oh, you’re a wily one, Pythodicus! Shoving me off on this
old screw, eh? If I ask for anything there, I can ask myself
hoarse before I get a thing.

_Pyth._

Stultus et sine gratia es.
[4]tibi recte facere, quando quod facias perit.

An ungrateful blockhead is what you are. The idea of doing
you a favour, when it’s only thrown away!

_Cong._

Qui vero?

Eh? How so?

_Pyth._

Rogitas? iam principio in aedibus
turba istic nulla tibi erit: siquid uti voles, 340
domo abs te adferto, ne operam perdas poscere.
his autem apud nos magna turba ac familia est
supellex, aurum, vestis, vasa argentea:

How so? Well, in the first place there won’t be an
uproarious gang in that house to get in your way: if you
need anything, just you fetch it from home so as not to
waste time asking for it. Here at our establishment, though,
we do have a great big uproarious gang of servants, and
knick-knackery and jewellery and clothes and silver plate
lying about.

ibi si perierit quippiam--quod te scio
facile abstinere posse, si nihil obviam est--
dicant: coqui abstulerunt, comprehendite,
vincite, verberate, in puteum condite.
horum tibi istic nihil eveniet: quippe qui
ubi quid subripias nihil est. sequere hac me.

Now if anything was missing,--of course it’s easy for you
to keep your hands off, provided there’s nothing in reach,--
they’d say: “The cooks got away with it! Collar ’em! Tie ’em
up! Thrash ’em! Throw ’em in the dungeon!” Now over there
(_pointing to Euclio’s_) nothing like this will happen to
you--as there’s nothing at all about for you to filch.
(_going toward Euclio’s house_) Come along.

_Cong._

Sequor.

(_sulkily_) Coming. (_he and the rest follow_)

II. 6.

Scene 6.

_Pyth._

Heus, Staphyla, prodi atque ostium aperi.

(_knocking at door_) Hey! Staphyla! Come here and open the
door.

_Staph._

Qui vocat? 350

(_within_) Who is it?

_Pyth._

Pythodicus.

Pythodicus.

_Staph._

Quid vis?

(_sticking her head out_) What do you want?

_Pyth._

Hos ut accipias coquos
tibicinamque obsoniumque in nuptias.
Megadorus iussit Euclioni haec mittere.

Take these cooks and the music girl and the supplies for the
wedding festival. Megadorus told us to take ’em over to
Euclio’s.

_Staph._

Cererin, Pythodice, has sunt facturi nuptias?

(_examining the provisions disappointedly_) Whose festival
are they going to celebrate, Pythodicus? Ceres’?

_Pyth._

Qui?

Why hers?

_Staph._

Quia temeti nihil allatum intellego.

Well, no tipple’s[B] been brought, as I notice.

[Footnote B: The use of wine was forbidden at the festival
called the _Cereris nuptiae_.]

_Pyth._

At iam afferetur, si a foro ipsus redierit.

But there’ll be some all right when the old gent gets back
from the forum.

_Staph._

Ligna hic apud nos nulla sunt.

We haven’t got any firewood in the house.

_Cong._

Sunt asseres?

Any rafters in it?

_Staph_

Sunt pol.

Mercy, yes.

_Cong._

Sunt igitur ligna, ne quaeras foris.

There’s firewood in it, then: never mind going for any.

_Staph._

Quid, impurate? quamquam Volcano studes,
cenaene causa aut tuae mercedis gratia 360
nos nostras aedis postulas comburere?

Hey? You godless thing! even though you are a devotee of
Vulcan, do you want us to burn our house down, all for your
dinner or your pay? (_advances on him_)

_Cong._

Haud postulo.

(_shrinking back_) I don’t, I don’t!

_Pyth._

Duc istos intro.

Take ’em inside.

_Staph._

Sequimini.

(_brusquely_) This way with you.

[EXEUNT _Congrio_ AND OTHERS INTO _Euclio’s_ HOUSE.

II. 7.

Scene 7.

_Pyth._

Curate. ego intervisam quid faciant coqui;
quos pol ut ego hodie servem, cura maxuma est.
nisi unum hoc faciam, ut in puteo cenam coquant:
inde coctam sursum subducemus corbulis.

(_as they leave_) Look out for things. (_starting for
Megadorus’s house_) I’ll go see what the cooks are at. By
gad, it’s the devil’s own job keeping an eye on those chaps.
The only way is to make ’em cook dinner in the dungeon and
then haul it up in baskets when it’s done.

si autem deorsum comedent, si quid coxerint,
superi incenati sunt et cenati inferi.
sed verba hic facio, quasi negoti nil siet,
rapacidarum ubi tantum sit in aedibus. 370

Even so, though, if they’re down there gobbling up all they
cook, it’s a case of starve in heaven and stuff in hell.
But here I am gabbling away just as if there wasn’t anything
to do, and the house all full of those young Grabbits.
[EXIT _Pythodicus._

II. 8.

Scene 8.

ENTER _Euclio_ FROM FORUM CARRYING A SMALL PACKAGE AND A FEW
FORLORN FLOWERS.

_Eucl._

Volui animum tandem confirmare hodie meum,
ut bene me haberem filiai nuptiis.
venio ad macellum, rogito pisces: indicant
caros; agninam caram, caram bubulam,
vitulinam, cetum, porcinam: cara omnia.
atque eo fuerunt cariora, aes non erat.
abeo iratus illinc, quoniam nihil est qui emam.

Now I did want to be hearty to-day, and do the handsome
thing for daughter’s wedding, yes I did. Off I go to the
market--ask for fish! Very dear! And lamb dear... and beef
dear... and veal and tunny and pork... everything dear,
everything! Yes, and all the dearer for my not having any
money! It just made me furious, and seeing I couldn’t buy
anything, I up and left.

ita illis impuris omnibus adii manum.
deinde egomet mecum cogitare intervias
occepi: festo die si quid prodegeris, 380
profesto egere liceat, nisi peperceris.
postquam, hanc rationem ventri cordique edidi,
accessit animus ad meam sententiam,
quam minimo sumptu filiam ut nuptum darem.

That’s how I circumvented ’em, the whole dirty pack of ’em.
Then I began to reason things out with myself as I walked
along. “Holiday feasting makes everyday fasting,” says I to
myself, “unless you economize.” After I’d put the case this
way to my stomach and heart, my mind supported my motion
to cut down daughter’s wedding expenses just as much as
possible.

nunc tusculum emi hoc et coronas floreas:
haec imponentur in foco nostro Lari,
ut fortunatas faciat gnatae nuptias.
sed quid ego apertas aedis nostras conspicor?
et strepitust intus. numnam ego compilor miser?

Now I’ve bought a little frankincense here and some wreaths
of flowers: we’ll put ’em on the hearth in honour of our
Household God, so that he may bless daughter’s marriage.
(_looking toward house_) Eh! What’s my door open for?
A clattering inside, too! Oh. mercy on us! It can’t be
burglars, can it?

_Cong._

Aulam maiorem, si pote, ex vicinia 390
pete: haec est parva, capere non quit.

(_within, to an attendant_) See if you can’t get a bigger
pot from one of the neighbours: this here’s a little one:
it won’t hold it all.

_Eucl._

Ei mihi,
perii hercle. aurum rapitur, aula quaeritur.[5] (392)
Apollo, quaeso, subveni mi atque adiuva, (394)
confige sagittis fures thensaurarios,
si cui in re tali iam subvenisti antidhac.
sed cesso prius quam prorsus perii currere?

Oh, my God! my God! I’m ruined! They’re taking my gold!
They’re after my pot! Oh, oh, Apollo, help me, save me!
Shoot your arrows through them, the treasure thieves, if
you’ve ever helped a man in such a pinch before! But I must
rush in before they ruin me entirely! [EXIT _Euclio_.

II. 9.

Scene 9.

ENTER _Anthrax_ FROM HOUSE OF _Megadorus_.

_Anthr._

Dromo, desquama piscis. tu, Machaerio,
congrum, murenam exdorsua quantum potest.
ego hinc artoptam ex proximo utendam peto 400
a Congrione. tu istum gallum, si sapis,
glabriorem reddes mihi quam volsus ludiust.

(_to servants inside_) Dromo, scale the fish. As for you,
Machaerio, you bone the conger and lamprey as fast as you
know how. I’m going over next door to ask Congrio for the
loan of a bread pan. And you there! if you know what’s good
for you, you won’t hand me back that rooster till it’s
plucked cleaner than a ballet dancer.

sed quid hoc clamoris oritur hinc ex proximo?
coqui hercle, credo, faciunt officium suom.
fugiam intro, ne quid turbae hic itidem fuat.

(_sound of scuffle in Euclio’s house_) Hallo, though! What’s
the row in the house next door? Hm! the cooks settling down
to business, I reckon! I’ll hustle back, or we’ll be having
a rumpus at our place, too. [EXIT.

ACTVS III