Chapter 5

(Enter PSEUDOLUS, drunk, with a chaplet on his head.)

PSEUDOLUS: (staggering.) How’s this? And is it the fact? Feet-are you standing or not? Or is it this you want, some; one to pick me up here as I lie? But, by my faith, if I do fall down, yours will be the fault. Are you going to go? Heigho! I must wait upon myself.

This is the great fault in wine; it first lays hold of the feet;’tis a cunning wrestler. By my faith, assuredly am I now come off right well drenched; with such exquisite viands, with such becoming elegance, in such a delightful place, have we been delightfully entertained.

What’s the need for me to make much prosing? This is the thing for a man, an object for him to pass his life for; here are all pleasures and all delights. I think that the ecstasy is equal to that of the Deities, when the lover embraces his mistress, when he places lip to lip, when melting kisses are exchanged, when breast is pressed to breast, or else, if they please, they are locked in strict embrace; then for your most loving mistress, with her white hand, to be pledging you in the luscious goblet, for no one there to be disagreable to another, for no one to be indulging in silly conversation;

for unguents and perfumes, ribbons and festive wreaths, to be provided in profusion; and for the rest of the entertainment, too, to be provided in no niggardly style. That no one may have to question me then, in this manner have myself and my young master been spending this day in jollity.

After I had fulfilled all my task just as I intended, the enemy put to flight, I was leaving them reclining and drinking, each lover with his mistress, and my own mistress there as well, indulging heart and soul. But after I had risen, they begged me to dance. After this fashion (he dances) did I show myself off there quite charmingly, in a master-like style, to wit; for I am thoroughly acquainted with the Ionian step. Thus, clad in my little mantle, full of fun, I was stepping about, this way. Some of them clapped me, others cried out for me to dance again. In that same Ionian fashion once again did I begin to take a turn; I presented myself to my mistress, that she might caress me; as I was pirouetting, down I tumbled: that was the funeral dirge for my sport. And so, while I was a-struggling to get up, near—, almost, I mean, I soiled my mantle.

Then, by my troth, I was the cause of plenteous mirth. A goblet was presented me on account of my fall. Forthwith I changed my mantle, and put on this; thence have I come hither, that I might get rid of my surfeit. Now I’m going to my old master, to put him in mind of our bargain. Open-open the door. Hallo, there! Tell Simo, somebody, that I’m here. (Knocks at the door of SIMO’S house.)

(Enter SIMO, from his house.)

SIMO: The voice of a rascally fellow is calling me out of doors. (He stares at PSEUDOLUS.) But what’s this? How’s this? What is it I see in this guise?

PSEUDOLUS: (staggering towards him.) Your own Pseudolus, drunk, with a chaplet on.

SIMO: (to himself.) By my troth, this is free and easy indeed. But see his attitude; is he on my account a bit the more afraid?

I’m thinking whether I shall address him harshly or kindly. But this (pointing to a purse in his hand) that I’m carrying forbids me to use rough measures towards him just now; if there’s any hope for me, centred in this.

PSEUDOLUS: (staggering up to SIMO.) A worthless fellow is coming to meet the best of men.

SIMO: May the Gods bless you, Pseudolus. (PSEUDOLUS eructates.) Foh! go to utter perdition. (Pushes him away.)

PSEUDOLUS: But why should I have that mischance befal me?

SIMO: Why, the plague, in your drunkenness, are you eructating in my face?

PSEUDOLUS: Hold me up, steadily; take care that I don’t fall. Don’t you see me, how drenched and soaking I am?

SIMO: What impudence is this, for you to be going about this way in broad daylight, drunk, with a chaplet on?

PSEUDOLUS: Such is my pleasure. (Eructates again.)

SIMO: Why your pleasure? Do you persist in eructating in my very face?

PSEUDOLUS: An eructation is comforting to me; do indulge me in it; do but stand off.

SIMO: For my part I really do believe, you villain, that you are able in a single hour to drink up four right plentiful vintages of the Massic hills.

PSEUDOLUS: A winter hour, add.

SIMO: You don’t remind me amiss. But tell me, however, whence I am to say that you are bringing your deeply-laden bark?

PSEUDOLUS: I’ve just been having a thorough bout with your son.

That damsel is the cause of this; along with your son she is carousing, a free woman.

SIMO: You are a most worthless fellow.

PSEUDOLUS: But, Simo, wasn’t Ballio nicely diddled? How well I carried what I told you into effect.

SIMO: I know everything in its order, just as you managed each particular.

PSEUDOLUS: Why, then, do you hesitate to pay me the money?

SIMO: You ask what’s just, I confess; take it. (Gives him the money.)

PSEUDOLUS: But you declared that you wouldn’t give it me; and still do you give it.

SIMO: Are you laughing at me?

What? Are you going to take this from your master, Pseudolus?

PSEUDOLUS: With most willing heart and soul.

SIMO: Prithee, can’t you venture to make me an abatement of some portion of this money?

PSEUDOLUS: No: you shall say that I really am a greedy fellow; for you shall never be richer by a single coin of this money.

SIMO: Well,

I really didn’t suppose that it would ever come to pass with me that I should be begging of you.

PSEUDOLUS: Load your shoulder with it, and follow me this way. (Pointing.)

SIMO: I—load myself with that?

PSEUDOLUS: You will load yourself, I’m sure.

SIMO: What am I to do to this fellow? Doesn’t he, contrary to my expectation, take my money, and then laugh at me?

PSEUDOLUS: Woe to the conquered:

turn your back, then. (Turns him round.)

SIMO: Oh! oh!

desist. Let me alone—

I’m in pain.

PSEUDOLUS: Were you not in pain, I should be in pain;

and no compassion would you have had for my back, if I hadn’t this day managed this.

SIMO: There will be an opportunity for me to be revenged on you, if I live.

PSEUDOLUS: Why do you threaten? I’ve got a back of my own.

SIMO: Very well, then. (Moves as if going.)

PSEUDOLUS: Come you back then.

SIMO: Why come back?

PSEUDOLUS: Only come you back; you shall not be deceived.

SIMO: (turns round.) I am come back.

PSEUDOLUS: Come and have a drink with me.

SIMO: What—I, come?

PSEUDOLUS: Do as I ask you. If you do come, I’ll let you take half of this, or even more. (Points to the purse in his hand.)

SIMO: I’ll come; take me where you like, Pseudolus.

PSEUDOLUS: How now then? Are you at all angry with me or with your son, Simo, on account of these matters?

SIMO: Certainly, not at all.

PSEUDOLUS: (going.) Step this way now.

SIMO: I follow you. But why don’t you invite the Spectators as well?

PSEUDOLUS: (turning round.) I’ faith, they are not in the habit of inviting me; and, therefore, I don’t invite them. But if you (addressing the AUDIENCE) are willing to applaud and approve of this company of players, and this Comedy,

I invite you for to-morrow.