Part 16
_Cong._
Quam ob rem?
Why?
_Eucl._
Quia cultrum habes.
Well, you carry a knife.
_Cong._
Cocum decet.
And so a cook should.
_Eucl._
Quid comminatu’s mihi?
And how about your threatening me?
_Cong._
Istud male factum arbitror, quia non latus fodi.
It’s a pity I didn’t jab it through you, I’m thinking.
_Eucl._
Homo nullust te scelestior qui vivat hodie neque quoi ego de industria amplius male plus libens faxim. 420
There isn’t a more abandoned villain than you on the face of the earth, or one I’d be gladder to go out of my way to punish more, either.
_Cong._
Pol etsi taceas, palam id quidem est: res ipsa testist; ita fustibus sum mollior magis quam ullus cinaedus. sed quid tibi nos tactiost, mendice homo?
Good Lord! That’s evident enough, even if you didn’t say so: the facts speak for themselves. I’ve been clubbed till I’m looser than any fancy dancer. Now what did you mean by laying hands on me, you beggar?
_Eucl._
Quae res? etiam rogitas? an quia minus quam aequom erat feci?
What’s that? You dare ask me? Didn’t I do my duty by you--is that it? (_lifts cudgel_)
_Cong._
Sine, at hercle cum magno malo tuo, si hoc caput sentit.
(_backing away_) All right: but by gad, you’ll pay heavy for it, or I’m a numskull.
_Eucl._
Pol ego haud scio quid post fuat: tuom nunc caput sentit. sed in aedibus quid tibi meis nam erat negoti me absente, nisi ego iusseram? volo scire.
Hm! I don’t know anything about the future of your skull, but (_chuckling and tapping his cudgel_) it must be numb now. (_savagely_) See here, what the devil were you doing in my house without my orders while I was gone? That’s what I want to know.
_Cong._
Tace ergo. quia venimus coctum ad nuptias.
Well then, shut up. We came to cook for the wedding, that’s all.
_Eucl._
Quid tu, malum, curas, utrum crudum an coctum ego edim, nisi tu mi es tutor? 430
And how does it concern you, curse you, whether I eat my food cooked or take it raw--unless you are my guardian?
_Cong._
Volo scire, sinas an non sinas nos coquere his cenam?
Are you going to let us cook dinner here or not? That’s what I want to know.
_Eucl._
Volo scire ego item, meae domi mean salva futura?
Yes, and I want to know whether my things at home will be safe?
_Cong._
Utinam mea mihi modo auferam, quae adtuli, salva: me haud paenitet, tua ne expetam.
All I hope is I can get safe away with my own things that I brought there. That’ll do for me: don’t worry about my hankering for anything you own.
_Eucl._
Scio, ne doce, novi.
(_incredulous_) I know. You needn’t go on. I quite understand.
_Cong._
Quid est qua prohibes nunc gratia nos coquere hic cenam? quid fecimus, quid diximus tibi secus quam velles?
Why won’t you let us cook dinner here now? What have we done? What have we said that you didn’t like?
_Eucl._
Etiam rogitas, sceleste homo, qui angulos in omnis mearum aedium et conclavium mihi pervium facitis? ibi ubi tibi erat negotium, ad focum si adesses, non fissile auferres caput: merito id tibi factum est. 440
A pretty question, you villainous rascal, with your making a public highway of every nook and cranny in my whole house! If you had stayed by the oven where your business lay, you wouldn’t be carrying that cloven pate: it serves you right.
adeo ut tu meam sententiam iam noscere possis si ad ianuam huc accesseris, nisi iussero, propius, ego te faciam miserrimus mortalis uti sis. scis iam meam sententiam.
(_with forced composure_) Now further, just to acquaint you with my sentiments in the matter,--you come any nearer this door without my permission, and I will make you the most forlorn creature in God’s world. Now you know my sentiments. [EXIT INTO HOUSE.
_Cong._
Quo abis? redi rursum. ita me bene amet Laverna, uti te iam, nisi reddi mihi vasa iubes, pipulo te his differam ante aedis. quid ego nunc agam? ne ego edepol veni huc auspicio malo. nummo sum conductus: plus iam medico merce dest opus.
(_calling after him_) Where are you off to? Come back! So help me holy Mother of Thieves, but I’ll soon make it warm for you, the way I’ll rip up your reputation in front of the house here, if you don’t have my dishes brought back! (_as Euclio closes the door_) Now what? Oh, hell! It certainly was an unlucky day when I came here! Two shillings for the job, and now it’ll take more than that to pay the doctor’s bill.
III. 3.
## Scene 3.
RE-ENTER _Euclio_ FROM HOUSE WITH OBJECT UNDER HIS CLOAK.
_Eucl._
Hoc quidem hercle, quoquo ibo, mecum erit, mecum feram, neque isti id in tantis periclis umquam committam ut siet. 450 ite sane nunciam omnes, et coqui et tibicinae, etiam intro duce, si vis, vel gregem venalium, coquite, facite, festinate nunciam, quantum libet.
(_aside_) By heaven, wherever I go this goes (_peering under cloak_) too: I won’t leave it there to run such risks, never. (_to Congrio and others_) Very well, come now, in with you, cooks, music girls, every one! (_to Congrio_) Go on, take your under-strappers inside if you like, the whole hireling herd of ’em. Cook away, work away, scurry around to your hearts’ content now.
_Cong._
Temperi, postquam implevisti fusti fissorum caput.
A nice time for it, after you’ve clubbed my head till it’s all cracks!
_Eucl._
Intro abite, opera huc conducta est vostra, non oratio.
In with you. You were engaged to get up a dinner here, not a declamation.
_Cong._
Heus, senex, pro vapulando hercle ego abs te mercedem petam. coctum ego, non vapulatum, dudum conductus fui.
I say, old boy, I’ll come to you with my bill for that basting, by the Lord I will. I was hired a while ago to be cook, not to be thumped.
_Eucl._
Lege agito mecum. molestus ne sis. i et cenam coque, aut abi in malum cruciatum ab aedibus.
Well, go to law about it. Don’t bother me. Away with you: get dinner, or else get to the devil out of here.
_Cong._
Abi tu modo.
You just get to--(_mildly, as he pushes in past him_) one side, then. [EXEUNT _Congrio_ AND HIS ASSOCIATES INTO HOUSE.
III. 4.
## Scene 4.
_Eucl._
Illic hinc abiit. di immortales, facinus audax incipit 460 qui cum opulento pauper homine coepit rem habere aut negotium.[7] veluti Megadorus temptat me omnibus miserum modis, qui simulavit mei honoris mittere huc causa coquos: is ea causa misit, hoc qui surriperent misero mihi.
(_looking after them_) He’s disappeared. My Lord, my Lord! It’s an awful chance a poor man takes when he begins to have dealings or business with a wealthy man. Here’s Megadorus now, trying to catch me--oh, dear, dear!--in all sorts of ways. Sending cooks over here and pretending it’s because of regard for me! Sent ’em to steal this (_looking under cloak_) from a poor old man--that’s what his sending ’em was because of!
condigne etiam meus med intus gallus gallinacius, qui erat anu peculiaris, perdidit paenissume. ubi erat haec defossa, occepit ibi scalpurrire ungulis circum circa. quid opust verbis? ita mihi pectus peracuit: capio fustem, obtrunco gallum, furem manufestarium.
And then of course that dunghill cock of mine in there, that used to belong to the old woman, had to come within an inch of ruining me, beginning to scratch and claw around where this (_looking under cloak_) was buried. Enough said. It just got me so worked up I took a club and annihilated that cock, the thief, the redhanded thief!
credo edepol ego illi mercedem gallo pollicitos coquos, 470 si id palam fecisset. exemi ex manu[8] manubrium.[9] (471) sed Megadorus meus affinis eccum incedit a foro. (473) iam hunc non ausim praeterire, quin consistam et conloquar.
By heaven, I do believe the cooks offered that cock a reward to show them where this (_looking under cloak_) was. I took the handle (_looking under cloak_) out of their hands! (_looking down street_) Ah, but there is son-in-law Megadorus swaggering back from the forum. I suppose it would hardly do for me to pass him without stopping for a word or two, now.
III. 5.
## Scene 5.
ENTER _Megadorus._
_Mega._
Narravi amicis multis consilium meum de condicione hac. Euclionis filiam laudant. sapienter factum et consilio bono.
(_not seeing Euclio_) Well, I’ve told a number of friends of my intentions regarding this match. They were full of praise for Euclio’s daughter. Say it’s the sensible thing to do, a fine idea.
nam meo quidem animo si idem faciant ceteri opulentiores, pauperiorum filias ut indotatas ducant uxores domum, 480 et multo fiat civitas concordior, et invidia nos minore utamur quam utimur, et illae malam rem metuant quam metuont magis, et nos minore sumptu simus quam sumus.
Yes, for my part I’m convinced that if the rest of our well-to-do citizens would follow my example and marry poor men’s daughters and let the dowries go, there would be a great deal more unity in our city, and people would be less bitter against us men of means than they are, and our wives would stand in greater awe of marital authority than they do, and the cost of living would be lower for us than it is.
in maximam illuc populi partem est optimum; in pauciores avidos altercatio est, quorum animis avidis atque insatietatibus neque lex neque sutor capere est qui possit modum. namque hoc qui dicat “quo illae nubent divites dotatae, si istud ius pauperibus ponitur?” 490
It’s just the thing for the vast majority of the people; the fight comes with a handful of greedy fellows so stingy and grasping that neither law nor cobbler can take their measure. And now supposing some one should ask: “Who are the rich girls with dowries going to marry, if you make this rule for the poor ones?”
quo lubeant, nubant, dum dos ne fiat comes. hoc si ita fiat, mores meliores sibi parent, pro dote quos ferant, quam nunc ferunt, ego faxim muli, pretio qui superant equos, sint viliores Gallicis cantheriis.
Why, anyone they please, let ’em marry, provided their dowry doesn’t go along with ’em. In that case, instead of bringing their husbands money, they’d bring them better behaved wives than they do at present. Those mules of theirs that cost more than horses do now--they’d be cheaper than Gallic geldings by the time I got through.
_Eucl._
Ita me di amabunt ut ego hunc ausculto lubens. nimis lepide fecit verba ad parsimoniam.
(_aside_) God bless my soul, how I do love to hear him talk! Those thoughts of his about economizing--beautiful, beautiful!
_Mega._
Nulla igitur dicat “equidem dotem ad te adtuli maiorem multo quam tibi erat pecunia; enim mihi quidem aequomst purpuram atque aurum dari, 500 ancillas, mulos, muliones, pedisequos, salutigerulos pueros, vehicla qui vehar.”
Then you wouldn’t hear them saying: “Well, sir, you never had anything like the money I brought you, and you know it. Fine clothes and jewellery, indeed! And maids and mules and coachmen and footmen and pages and private carriages--well, if I haven’t a right to them!”
_Eucl._
Ut matronarum hic facta pernovit probe. moribus praefectum mulierum hunc factum velim.
(_aside_) Ah, he knows ’em, knows ’em through and through, these society dames! Oh, if he could only be appointed supervisor of public morals--the women’s!
_Mega._
Nunc quoquo venias plus plaustrorum in aedibus videas quam ruri, quando ad villam veneris. sed hoc etiam pulchrum est praequam ubi sumptus petunt.
Wherever you go nowadays you see more wagons in front of a city mansion than you can find around a farmyard. That’s a perfectly glorious sight, though, compared with the time when the tradesmen come for their money.
stat fullo, phyrgio, aurifex, lanarius; caupones patagiarii, indusiarii, flammarii, volarii, carinarii; 510 stant manulearii, stant[10] murobatharii, propolae linteones, calceolarii; sedentarii sutores diabathrarii, solearii astant, astant molocinarii;[11] (514) strophiarii astant, astant semul sonarii. (516)
The cleanser, the ladies’ tailor, the jeweller, the woollen worker--they’re all hanging round. And there are the dealers in flounces and underclothes and bridal veils, in violet dyes and yellow dyes, or muffs, or balsam scented foot-gear; and then the lingerie people drop in on you, along with shoemakers and squatting cobblers and slipper and sandal merchants and dealers in mallow dyes; and the belt makers flock around, and the girdle makers along with ’em.
iam hosce absolutes censeas: cedunt, petunt treceni, cum stant thylacistae in atriis textores limbularii, arcularii. ducuntur, datur aes. iam absolutos censeas, 520 cum incedunt infectores corcotarii, aut aliqua mala crux semper est, quae aliquid petat.
And now you may think you’ve got them all paid off. Then up come weavers and lace men and cabinet-makers--hundreds of ’em--who plant themselves like jailers in your halls and want you to settle up. You bring ’em in and square accounts. “All paid off now, anyway,” you may be thinking, when in march the fellows who do the saffron dyeing--some damned pest or other, anyhow, eternally after something.
_Eucl._
Compellarem ego illum, ni metuam ne desinat memorare mores mulierum: nunc sic sinam.
(_aside_) I’d hail him, only I’m afraid he’d stop talking about how the women go on. No, no, I’ll let him be.
_Mega._
Ubi nugivendis res soluta est omnibus, ibi ad postremum cedit miles, aes petit. itur, putatur ratio cum argentario, miles inpransus astat, aes censet dari. ubi disputata est ratio cum argentario, etiam ipsus ultro debet argentario. 530 spes prorogatur militi in alium diem.
When you’ve got all these fellows of fluff and ruffles satisfied, along comes a military man, bringing up the rear, and wants to collect the army tax. You go and have a reckoning with your banker, your military gentleman standing by and missing his lunch in the expectation of getting some cash. After you and the banker have done figuring, you find you owe him money too, and the military man has his hopes postponed till another day.
haec sunt atque aliae multae in magnis dotibus. incommoditates sumptusque intolerabiles nam quae indotata est, ea in potestate est viri; dotatae mactant et malo et damno viros sed eccum adfinem ante aedes. quid agis, Euclio?
These are some of the nuisances and intolerable expenses that big dowries let you in for, and there are plenty more. Now a wife that doesn’t bring you a penny--a husband has some control over her; it’s the dowered ones that pester the life out of their husbands with the way they cut up and squander. (_seeing Euclio_) But there’s my new relative in front of the house! How are you, Euclio?
III. 6.
## Scene 6.
_Eucl._
Nimium lubenter edi sermonem tuom.
Gratified, highly gratified with your discourse--I devoured it.
_Mega._
An audivisti?
Eh? you heard?
_Eucl._
Usque a principio omnia.
Every word of it.
_Mega._
Tamen meo quidem animo aliquanto facias rectius, si nitidior sis filiai nuptus. 540
(_looking him over_) But I say, though, I do think it would be a little more in keeping, if you were to spruce up a bit for your daughter’s wedding.
_Eucl._
Pro re nitorem et gloriam pro copia qui habent, meminerunt sese unde oriundi sient. neque pol, Megadore, mihi neque quoiquam pauperi opinione melius res structa est domi.
(_whining_) Folks with the wherewithal and means to let ’em spruce up and look smart remember who they are. My goodness, Megadorus! I haven’t got a fortune piled up at home (_peers slyly under cloak_) any more than people think, and no other poor man has, either.
_Mega._
Immo est quod satis est, et di faciant ut siet plus plusque et istuc sospitent quod nunc habes.
(_genially_) Ah well, you’ve got enough, and heaven make it more and more, and bless you in what you have now.
_Eucl._
Illud mihi verbum non placet “quod nunc habes.” tam hoc scit me habere quam egomet. anus fecit palam.
(_turning away with a start_) “What you have now!” I don’t like that phrase! He knows I have this money just as well as I do! The old hag’s been blabbing!
_Mega._
Quid tu te solus e senatu sevocas?
(_pleasantly_) Why that secret session over there?
_Eucl._
Pol ego ut te accusem merito meditabar.
(_taken aback_) I was--damme sir,--I was framing the complaint against you that you deserve.
_Mega._
Quid est? 550
What for?
_Eucl._
Quid sit me rogitas? qui mihi omnis angulos furum implevisti in aedibus misero mihi, qui mi intro misti in aedis quingentos coquos, cum senis manibus, genere Geryonaceo;
What for, eh? When you’ve filled every corner of my house with thieves, confound it! When you’ve sent cooks into my house by the hundred and every one of ’em a Geryonian[C] with six hands apiece!
quos si Argus servet qui oculeus totus fuit, quem quondam Ioni Iuno custodem addidit, is numquam servet. praeterea tibicinam, quae mi interbibere sola, si vino scatat, Corinthiensem fontem Pirenam potest. tum obsonium autem--
Why, Argus, who had eyes all over him and was set to guarding Io once by Juno, couldn’t ever keep watch on those fellows, not if he tried. And that music girl besides! She could take the fountain of Pirene at Corinth and drink it dry, all by herself, she could,--if it ran wine. Then as for the provisions--
[Footnote C: Geryon was a giant with three heads and bodies.]
_Mega._
Pol vel legioni sat est. 560 etiam agnum misi.
Bless my soul! Why, there’s enough for a regiment. I sent you a lamb, too.
_Eucl._
Quo quidem agno sat scio magis curiosam[12] nusquam esse ullam beluam.
Yes, and a more shearable beast than that same lamb doesn’t exist, I know that.
_Mega._
Volo ego ex te scire qui sit agnus curio.
I wish you would tell me how the lamb is shearable.
_Eucl._
Quia ossa ac pellis totust, ita cura macet. quin exta inspicere in sole ei vivo licet: ita is pellucet quasi lanterna Punica.
Because it’s mere skin and bones, wasted away till it’s perfectly--(_tittering_) sheer. Why, why, you put that lamb in the sun and you can watch its inwards work: it’s as transparent as a Punic[D] lantern.
[Footnote D: Perhaps of glass, of which the Phoenicians were reputedly the inventors.]
_Mega._
Caedundum conduxi ego illum.
(_protestingly_) I got that lamb in myself to be slaughtered.
_Eucl._
Tum tu idem optumumst loces efferendum; nam iam, credo, mortuost.
(_dryly_) Then you’d best put it out yourself to be buried, for I do believe it’s dead already.
_Mega._
Potare ego hodie, Euclio, tecum volo.
(_laughing and clapping him on the shoulder_) Euclio, we must have a little carouse to-day, you and I.
_Eucl._
Non potem ego quidem hercle.
(_frightened_) None for me, sir, none for me! Carouse! Oh my Lord!
_Mega._
At ego iussero 570 cadum unum vini veteris a me adferrier.
But see here, I’ll just have a cask of good old wine brought over from my cellars.
_Eucl._
Nolo hercle, nam mihi bibere decretum est aquam.
No, no! I don’t care for any! The fact is I am resolved to drink nothing but water.
_Mega._
Ego te hodie reddam madidum, si vivo, probe, tibi cui decretum est bibere aquam.
(_digging him in the ribs_) I’ll get you properly soaked to-day, on my life I will, you with your “resolved to drink nothing but water.”
_Eucl._
Scio quam rem agat: ut me deponat vino, eam adfectat viam, post hoc quod habeo ut commutet coloniam. ego id cavebo, nam alicubi abstrudam foris. ego faxo et operam et vinum perdiderit simul.
(_aside_) I see his game! Trying to fuddle me with his wine, that’s it, and then give this (_looking under cloak_) a new domicile! (_pauses_) I’ll take measures against that: yes. I’ll secrete it somewhere outside the house. I’ll make him throw away his time and wine together.
_Mega._
Ego, nisi quid me vis, eo lavatum, ut sacruficem.
(_turning to go_) Well, unless I can do something for you, I’ll go take a bath and get ready to offer sacrifice. [EXIT INTO HOUSE.
_Eucl._
Edepol, ne tu, aula, multos inimicos habes 580 atque istuc aurum quod tibi concreditum est. nunc hoc mihi factu est optumum, ut ted auferam, aula, in Fidei fanum: ibi abstrudam probe. Fides, novisti me et ego te: cave sis tibi, ne in me mutassis nomen, si hoc concreduo. ibo ad te fretus tua, Fides, fiducia.
(_paternally to object under cloak_) God bless us both, pot, you do have enemies, ah yes, many enemies, you and the gold entrusted to you! As matters stand, pot, the best thing I can do for you is to carry you off to the shrine of Faith: I’ll hide you away there, just as cosy! You know me, Faith, and I know you: don’t change your name, mind, if I trust this to you. Yes, I’ll go to you, Faith, relying on your faithfulness. [EXIT _Euclio_.
## ACTVS IV
## ACT IV
ENTER _Strobilus._
_Strob._
Hoc est servi facinus frugi, facere quod ego persequor, ne morae molestiaeque imperium erile habeat sibi. nam qui ero ex sententia servire servos postulat, in erum matura, in se sera condecet capessere. 590 sin dormitet, ita dormitet, servom sese ut cogitet.[13] (591)
(_self-complacently_) This is the way for a good servant to act, the way I do: no thinking master’s orders are a botheration and nuisance. I tell you what, if a servant wants to give satisfaction, he’d just better make it a case of master first and man second. Even if he should fall asleep, he ought to do it with an eye on the fact that he’s a servant.
erile[14] imperium ediscat, ut quod frons velit oculi sciant; (599) quod iubeat citis quadrigis citius properet persequi. 600 qui ea curabit, abstinebit censione bubula, nec sua opera rediget umquam in splendorem compedes.
He’s got to know his master’s inclinations like a book, so that he can read his wishes in his face. And as for orders, he must push ’em through faster than a fast four-in-hand. If a chap minds all this, he won’t be paying taxes on rawhide, or ever spend his time polishing a ball and chain with his ankles.
nunc erus meus amat filiam huius Euclionis pauperis; eam ero nunc renuntiatum est nuptum huic Megadoro dari. is speculatum huc misit me, ut quae fierent fieret particeps. nunc sine omni suspicione in ara hic adsidam sacra; hinc ego et huc et illuc potero quid agant arbitrarier.
Now the fact is, master’s in love with the daughter of poor old Euclio here; and he’s just got word she’s going to be married to Megadorus there. So he’s sent me over to keep my eyes peeled and report on operations. I’ll just settle down alongside this sacred altar (_does so_) and no one’ll suspect me. I can inspect proceedings at both houses from here.
IV. 2.
## Scene 2.
ENTER _Euclio_ WITHOUT SEEING _Strobilus._
_Eucl._
Tu modo cave quoiquam indicassis aurum meum esse istic, Fides: non metuo ne quisquam inveniat, ita probe in latebris situmst. edepol ne illic pulchram praedam agat, si quis illam invenerit 610 aulam onustam auri; verum id te quaeso ut prohibessis, Fides.
(_plaintively_) Only be sure you don’t let anyone know my gold is there. Faith: no fear of anyone finding it, not after the lovely way I tucked it in that dark nook, (_pauses_) Oh my God, what a beautiful haul he would get, if anyone should find it--a pot just crammed with gold! For mercy’s sake, though, Faith, don’t let him!
nunc lavabo, ut rem divinam faciam, ne affinem morer quin ubi accersat meam extemplo filiam ducat domum. vide, Fides, etiam atque etiam nunc, salvam ut aulam abs te auferam: tuae fide concredidi aurum, in tuo loco et fano est situm.