Chapter 3

(Enter CONGRIO, in haste, from the house of EUCLIO.)

LYCONIDES: (roaring out.) Beloved fellow-citizens, fellow-countrymen, inhabitants, neighbours, and all strangers, do make way for me to escape! Make all the streets clear! Never have I at any time, until this day, come to Bacchants, in a Bacchanalian den, to cook; so sadly have they mauled wretched me and my scullions with their sticks.

I’m aching all over, and am utterly done for; that old fellow has so made a bruising school of me; and in such a fashion has he turned us all out of the house, myself and them, laden with sticks. Nowhere, in all the world, have I ever seen wood dealt out more plentifully. Alackaday! by my faith, to my misery, I’m done for; the Bacchanalian den is opening, here he comes. He’s following us. I know the thing I’ll do: that the master himself has taught me.

(Enter EUCLIO, from his house, driving the COOKS and the MUSIC GIRL before him.)

EUCLIO: (calling out, while CONGRIO and the others are running off) Come back! Where are you running to, now? Hold you!

LYCONIDES: Why are you crying out, you stupid?

EUCLIO: Because this instant I shall give your name to the Triumvirs.

LYCONIDES: Why?

EUCLIO: Because you’ve got a knife.

LYCONIDES: ’Tis the proper thing for a cook.

EUCLIO: Why did you threaten me?

LYCONIDES: I think that it was badly managed, that I didn’t pierce your side with it.

EUCLIO: There’s not a person that’s living this day a greater rascal than you, nor one to whom designedly I would with greater pleasure cause a mischief.

LYCONIDES: I’ faith, though you should hold your noise, really that’s quite clear; the thing itself is its own witness. As it is, I’m made softer by far with your sticks than any ballet-dancer. But what right have you to touch us, you beggarman? What’s the matter?

EUCLIO: Do you even ask me? Is it that I’ve done less than I ought to have done? Only let me— (Is going to strike him.)

LYCONIDES: Now, by my faith, at your great peril, if this head should feel it!

EUCLIO: Troth, I don’t know what may happen hereafter; your head feels it just now! But what business, pray, had you in my house, in my absence, unless I had ordered you? I want to know that.

LYCONIDES: Hold your noise, then; because we came to cook for the wedding.

EUCLIO: Why the plague do you trouble yourself whether I eat meat raw or cooked, unless you are my tutor.

LYCONIDES: I want to know if you will allow or not allow us to cook the dinner here?

EUCLIO: I, too, want to know whether my property will be safe in my house.

LYCONIDES: I only wish to carry the things away safe that I brought here! I don’t care for yours; should I be coveting your things?

EUCLIO: I understand; don’t teach me; I know.

LYCONIDES: What is it, on account of which you now hinder us from cooking the dinner here? What have we done? What have we said to you otherwise than you could wish?

EUCLIO: Do you even ask me, you rascally fellow? You who’ve been making a thoroughfare of every corner of my house, and the places under lock and key? If you had stopped by the fireside, where it was your business, you wouldn’t have had your head broken. It has been done for you deservedly! Therefore that you may now know my determination; if you come nearer to the door here, unless I order you, I’ll make you to be the most wretched of creatures. Do you now know my determination? (He goes into his house.)

LYCONIDES: Where are you going? Come you back again!

So may Laverna love me well, I’ll expose you at once with loud abuse here before the house, if you don’t order my utensils to be restored to me! What shall I do now? Verily, by my faith, I came here with unlucky auspices; I was hired for a didrachm; I stand in more need now of a surgeon than of wages.

(Enter EUCLIO, from his house, with the pot of money under his cloak.)

EUCLIO: (to himself, as he enters.) This, by my faith, wherever I shall go, really shall be with me, and with myself will I carry it, nor will I ever again entrust it to that place, for it to be in such great peril. (Speaking to CONGRIO and his SCULLIONS.) Now, then, go you all of you in the house, cooks and music-girls; introduce even, if you like, a whole company of hirelings; cook, bustle, and hurry now at once just as much as you please.

LYCONIDES: O dear, I’m a ruined man.

EUCLIO: Be off! your labour was hired here, not your talk.

LYCONIDES: Harkye, old gentleman, for the beating, by my faith, I shall demand of you a recompense. I was hired a while ago to cook, and not to be basted.

EUCLIO: Proceed against me at law! Don’t be troublesome! Either cook the dinner, or away with you from the house to downright perdition!

LYCONIDES: Go there yourself then. (CONGRIO and the COOKS and MUSIC-GIRL go back into the house.)

(EUCLIO, alone.)

EUCLIO: He’s gone. Immortal Gods! A poor man, who begins to have dealings or business with an opulent one, commences upon a rash undertaking! Thus, for instance, Megadorus who has pretended that, for the sake of honoring me, he sends these cooks hither, is plaguing unfortunate me in every way; for this reason has he sent them, that they might purloin this (putting his hand on the pot) from unfortunate me.

Just as I might expect, even my dunghill-cock in-doors, that was bought with the old woman’s savings, had well nigh been the ruin of me; where this was buried, he began to scratch there all round about with his claws. What need of more words? So exasperated were my feelings, I took a stick, and knocked off the head of the cock—a thief caught in the act.

I’ faith, I do believe that the cooks had promised a reward to the cock, if he should discover it; I took the opportunity out of their hands, however. What need of many words? I had a regular battle with the dunghill- cock. But see, my neighbour Megadorus is coming from the Forum. I can’t, then, venture to pass by him, but I must stop and speak to him. (He retires close to his door.)

(Enter MEGADORUS, at a distance.)

MEGADORUS: (to himself.) I’ve communicated to many friends my design about this proposal; they speak in high terms of the daughter of Euclio. They say that it was discreetly done, and with great prudence. But, in my opinion, indeed, if the other richer men were to do the same, so as to take home as their wives, without dower, the daughters of the poorer persons, both the state would become much more united, and we should meet with less ill feeling than we now meet with; both, they, the wives, would stand in fear of punishment more than they do stand in fear of it, and we husbands should be at less expense than we now are.

In the greater part of the people this is a most just way of thinking; in the smaller portion there is an objection among the avaricious, whose avaricious minds and insatiate dispositions there is neither law nor magistrate to be able to put a check upon. But a person may say this; How are these rich women with portions to marry, if this law is laid down for the poor?

Let them marry whom they please, so long as the dowry isn’t their companion. If this were so done, the women would acquire for themselves better manners for them to bring, in place of dowry, than they now bring. I’d make mules, which exceed horses in price, to become cheaper than Gallic geldings.

EUCLIO: (aside.) So may the Gods favour me, I listen to him with delight; very shrewdly has he discoursed on the side of economy.

MEGADORUS: (to himself.) No wife should then be saying: Indeed, I brought you a marriage-portion far greater than was your own wealth;

why, it really is fair that purple and gold should be found for me, maid-servants, mules, muleteers, and lacqueys, pages to carry compliments, vehicles in which I may be carried.

EUCLIO: (aside.) How thoroughly he does understand the doings of the wives! I wish he were made Prefect of the manners of the women.

MEGADORUS: (to himself.) Now, go where you will, you may see more carriages among the houses than in the country when you go to a farm-house. But this is even light, in comparison with when they ask for their allowance; there stands the scourer, the embroiderer, the goldsmith, the woollen-manufacturer, retail dealers in figured skirts, dealers in women’s under-clothing, dyers in flame-colour, dyers in violet, dyers in wax-colour, or else sleeve-makers, or perfumers; wholesale linendrapers, shoemakers, squatting cobblers, slipper-makers; sandal makers stand there; stainers in mallow colour stand there;

hairdressers make their demands, botchers their demands; boddice-makers stand there; makers of kirtles take their stand. Now you would think them got rid of; these make way, others make their demands; three hundred duns are standing in your hall; weavers, lace-makers, cabinet-makers, are introduced; the money’s paid them. You would think them got rid of by this; when dyers in saffron colours come sneaking along; or else there’s always some horrid plague or other which is demanding something.

EUCLIO: (aside.) I would accost him, if I didn’t fear that he would cease to descant upon the ways of women; for the present I’ll leave him as he is.

MEGADORUS: When the money has been paid to all the nicknack mongers, for these saffron-coloured garments and stomachers, your wife’s expenses, then at the last comes the tax-gatherer and asks for money. You go, your account is being made up with your banker; the tax-gatherer waits, half-starved, and thinks the money will be paid. When the account has been made up with the banker, even already is the husband himself in debt to the banker, and the hopes of the tax-gatlherer are postponed to another day. These, and many others, are the inconveniences and intolerable expenses of great portions; but she who is without portion is in the power of her husband;

the portioned ones overwhelm their husbands with loss and ruin. But see; here’s my connexion by marriage before the house! How do you do, Euclio?

EUCLIO: With very great pleasure have I listened to your discourse.

MEGADORUS: Did you hear me?

EUCLIO: Everything from the very beginning.

MEGADORUS: (eyeing him from head to foot.) Still, in my way of thinking indeed, you would be acting a little more becomingly if you were more tidy at the wedding of your daughter.

EUCLIO: Those who have display according to their circumstances and splendour according to their means, remember themselves, from whence they are sprung; neither by myself, Megadorus, nor by any poor man, are better circumstances enjoyed than appearances warrant.

MEGADORUS: Surely they are; and may the Gods, I hope, make them so to be, and more and more may they prosper that which you now possess.

EUCLIO: (aside.) That expression don’t please me, which you now possess. He knows that I’ve got this, as well as I do myself: the old woman has discovered it to him.

MEGADORUS: Why do you separate yourself thus alone, apart from the Senate?

EUCLIO: Troth, I was considering whether I should accuse you deservedly.

MEGADORUS: What’s the matter?

EUCLIO: Do you ask me what’s the matter? You who have filled every corner in my house, for wretched me, with thieves? You who have introduced into my dwelling five hundred cooks, with six hands a-piece, of the race of Geryon, whom were Argus to watch, who was eyes all over, that Juno once set as a spy upon Jupiter, he never could watch them; a music-girl besides, who could alone drink up for me the Corinthian fountain of Pirene, if it were flowing with wine?

And then as to provisions—

MEGADORUS: Troth, there’s enough for a procurer even. I sent as much as a lamb.

EUCLIO: Than which lamb, I, indeed, know right well that there is nowhere a more curious beast existing.

MEGADORUS: I wish to know of you why is this lamb curious?

EUCLIO: Because it’s all skin and bone, so lean is it with care;

why, even when alive, by the light of the sun you may look at its entrails; it’s just as transparent as a Punic lantern.

MEGADORUS: I bought it to be killed.

EUCLIO: Then it’s best that you likewise should bargain for it to be carried out for burial; for I believe it’s dead by this time.

MEGADORUS: Euclio, I wish this day to have a drinking with you.

EUCLIO: By my troth, I really must not drink.

MEGADORUS: But I’ll order one cask of old wine to be brought from my house.

EUCLIO: I’ faith, I won’t have it; for I’ve determined to drink water.

MEGADORUS: I’ll have you well drenched this day, if I live, you who have determined to drink water.

EUCLIO: (aside.) I know what plan he’s upon;

he’s aiming at this method, to overcome me with wine, and after that, to change the settlement of what I possess: I’ll take care of that, for I’ll hide it somewhere out of doors. I’ll make him lose his wine and his trouble together.

MEGADORUS: Unless you want me for anything, I’m going to bathe, that I may sacrifice. (He goes into his house.)

EUCLIO: By my faith, you pot (taking it from under his cloak), you surely have many enemies, and that gold as well which is entrusted to you! Now this is the best thing to be done by me, to take you away, my pot, to the Temple of Faith, where I’ll hide you carefully. Faith, thou dost know me, and I thee; please, do have a care not to change thy name against me, if I entrust this to thee. Faith, I’ll come to thee, relying on thy fidelity. (He goes into the Temple of faith.)