Part 14
(_savagely_) To make sure you are a poor wretch, so as to give a bad lot the bad time she deserves.
_Staph._
Nam qua me nunc causa extrusisti ex aedibus?
Why, what did you push me out of the house for now?
_Eucl._
Tibi ego rationem reddam, stimulorum seges? illuc regredere ab ostio. illuc sis vide, ut incedit. at scin quo modo tibi res se habet? si hercle hodie fustem cepero aut stimulum in manum, testudineum istum tibi ego grandibo gradum.
I give my reasons to you, you,--you patch of beats, you? Over there with you, (_pointing_) away from the door! (_Staphyla hobbles to place indicated_) Just look at her, will you,--how she creeps along! See here, do you know what’11 happen to you? Now by heaven, only let me lay my hand on a club or a stick and I’ll accelerate that tortoise crawl for you!
_Staph._
Utinam me divi adaxint ad suspendium 50 potius quidem quam hoc pacto apud te servium.
(_aside_) Oh, I wish Heaven would make me hang myself, I do! Better that than slaving it for you at this rate, I’m sure.
_Eucl._
At ut scelesta sola secum murmurat oculos hercle ego istos, improba, ecfodiam tibi, ne me observare possis quid rerum geram abscede etiam nunc--etiam nunc--etiam--ohe.
(_aside_) Hear the old criminal mumbling away to herself, though! (_aloud_) Ah! those eyes of yours, you old sinner! By heaven, I’ll dig ’em out for you. I will, so that you can’t keep watching me whatever I do. Get farther off still! still farther! still--Whoa!
istic astato. si hercle tu ex istoc loco digitum transvorsum aut unguem latum excesseris aut si respexis, donicum ego te iussero, continuo hercle ego te dedam discipulam cruci.
Stand there! You budge a finger’s breadth a nail’s breadth from that spot; you so much as turn your head till I say the word, and by the Almighty, the next minute I’ll send you to the gallows for a lesson, so I will.
scelestiorem me hac anu certo scio 60 vidisse numquam, nimisque ego hanc metuo male, ne mi ex insidiis verba imprudent duit neu persentiscat aurum ubi est absconditum, quae in occipitio quoque habet oculos pessima. nunc ibo ut visam sitne ita aurum ut condidi, quod me sollicitat plurimis miserum modis.
(_aside_) A worse reprobate than this old crone I never did see, no, never. Oh, but how horribly scared I am she’ll come some sly dodge on me when I’m not expecting it, and smell out the place where the gold is hidden. She has eyes in the very back of her head, the hell-cat. Now I’ll just go see if the gold is where I hid it. Dear, dear, it worries the life out of me! [EXIT _Euclio_ INTO HOUSE.
_Staph._
Noenum mecastor quid ego ero dicam meo malae rei evenisse quamve insaniam, queo comminisci; ita me miseram ad hunc modum decies die uno saepe extrudit aedibus. 70 nescio pol quae illunc hominem intemperiae tenent; pervigilat noctes totas, tum autem interdius quasi claudus sutor domi sedet totos dies.
Mercy me! What’s come over master, what crazy streak he’s got, I can’t imagine,--driving a poor woman out of the house this way ten times a day, often. Goodness gracious, what whim-whams the man’s got into his head I don’t see. Never shuts his eyes all night: yes, and then in the daytime he’s sitting around the house the whole livelong day, for all the world like a lame cobbler.
neque iam quo pacto celem erilis filiae probrum, propinqua partitudo cui appetit, queo comminisci; neque quicquam meliust mihi, ut opinor, quam ex me ut unam faciam litteram longam, meum laqueo collum quando obstrinxero.
How I’m going to hide the young mistress’s disgrace now is beyond me, and she with her time so near. There’s nothing better for me to do, as I see, than tie a rope round my neck and dangle myself out into one long capital I.
I. 2.
## Scene 2.
RE-ENTER _Euclio_ FROM HOUSE.
_Eucl._
Nunc defaecato demum animo egredior domo, postquam perspexi salva esse intus omnia. 80 redi nunciam intro atque intus serva.
(_aside_) At last I can feel easy about leaving the house, now I have made certain everything is all right inside. (_to Staphyla_) Go back in there this instant, you, and keep watch inside.
_Staph._
Quippini? ego intus servem? an ne quis aedes auferat? nam hic apud nos nihil est aliud quaesti furibus, ita inaniis sunt oppletae atque araneis.
(_tartly_) I suppose so! So I’m to keep watch inside, am I? You aren’t afraid anyone’ll walk away with the house, are you? I vow we’ve got nothing else there for thieves to take-- all full of emptiness as it is, and cobwebs.
_Eucl._
Mirum quin tua me causa faciat Iuppiter Philippum regem aut Dareum, trivenefica araneas mihi ego illas servari volo. pauper sum, fateor, patior, quod di dant fero.
It is surprising Providence wouldn’t make a King Philip or Darius of me for your benefit, you viper, you! (_threateningly_) I want those cobwebs watched! I’m poor, poor; I admit it, I put up with it; I take what the gods give me.
abi intro, occlude ianuam. iam ego hic ero cave quemquam alienum in aedis intro miseris 90 quod quispiam ignem quaerat, extingui volo, ne causae quid sit quod te quisquam quaeritet nam si ignis vivet, ut extinguere extempulo.
In with you, bolt the door. I shall be back soon. No outsider is to be let in, mind you. And in case anyone should be looking for a light, see you put the fire out so that no one will have any reason to come to you for it. Mark my words, if that fire stays alive, I’ll extinguish you instantly.
tum aquam aufugisse dicito, si quis petet. cultrum, securim, pistillum, mortarium, quae utenda vasa semper vicini rogant, fures venisse atque abstulisse dicito profecto in aedis meas me absente neminem volo intro mitti. atque etiam hoc praedico tibi si Bona Fortuna veniat, ne intro miseris 100
And then water--if anyone asks for water, tell him it’s all run out. As for a knife, or an axe, or a pestle, or a mortar,--things the neighbours are all the time wanting to borrow--tell ’em burglars got in and stole the whole lot. I won’t have a living soul let into my house while I’m agone--there! Yes, and what’s more, listen here, if Dame Fortune herself comes along, don’t you let her in.
_Staph._
Pol ea ipsa credo ne intro mittatur cavet, nam ad aedis nostras numquam adit, quamquam prope est.
Goodness me, she won’t get in: she’ll see to that herself, I fancy. Why, she never comes to our house at all, no matter how near she is.
_Eucl._
Tace atque abi intro.
Keep still and go inside. (_advances on her_)
_Staph._
Taceo atque abeo.
(_hurrying out of reach_) I’m still, sir, I’m going!
_Eucl._
Occlude sis fores ambobus pessulis. iam ego hic ero.
Mind you lock the door, both bolts. I’ll soon be back. [EXIT _Staphyla_ INTO HOUSE.
discrucior animi, quia ab domo abeundum est mihi. nimis hercle invitus abeo. sed quid agam scio. nam noster nostrae qui est magister curiae dividere argenti dixit nummos in viros, id si relinquo ac non peto, omnes ilico me suspicentur, credo habere aurum domi. 110 nam non est veri simile, hominem pauperem pauxillum parvi facere quin nummum petat.
It’s agony having to leave the house, downright agony. Oh my God, how I do hate to go! But I have my reasons. The director of our ward gave notice he was going to make us a present of two shillings a man; and the minute I let it pass without putting in my claim, they’d all be suspecting I had gold at home, I’m sure they would. No, it doesn’t look natural for a poor man to think so little of even a tiny bit of money as not to go ask for his two shillings.
nam nunc cum celo sedulo omnis, ne sciant, omnes videntur scire et me benignius omnes salutant quam salutabant prius; adeunt, consistunt, copulantur dexteras, rogitant me ut valeam, quid agam, quid rerum geram. nunc quo profectus sum ibo; postidea domum me rursum quantum potero tantum recipiam.
Why, even now, hard as I try to keep every one from finding out, it seems as if every one knew: it seems as if every one has a heartier way of saying good day than they used to. Up they come, and stop, and shake hands, and keep asking me how I’m feeling, and how I’m getting on, and what I’m doing. Well, I must get along to where I’m bound; and then I’ll come back home just as fast as I possibly can. [EXIT _Euclio_
## ACTVS II
## 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.