Читать книгу The Comedies of Terence - Terence - Страница 43

Re-enter Pamphilus with Crito.

Crito. Say no more!

Any of these inducements would prevail:

Or your entreaty, or that it is truth,

Or that I wish it for Glycerium’s sake.

Chremes. Whom do I see? Crito, the Andrian?

Nay certainly ’tis Crito.

Crito. Save you, Chremes!

Chremes. What has brought you to Athens?

Crito. Accident.

But is this Simo?

Chremes. Aye.

Simo. Asks he for me?

So, Sir, you say that this Glycerium

Is an Athenian citizen?

Crito. Do you

Deny it?

Simo. What then are you come prepar’d?

Crito. Prepar’d! for what?

Simo. And dare you ask for what?

Shall you go on thus with impunity?

Lay snares for inexperienc’d, lib’ral youth,

With fraud, temptation, and fair promises

Soothing their minds?——

Crito. Have you your wits?

Simo.—And then

With marriage solder up their harlot loves?

Pam. Alas, I fear the stranger will not bear this. (Aside.)

Chremes. Knew you this person, Simo, you’d not think thus:

He’s a good man.

Simo. A good man he?—To come,

Although at Athens never seen till now,

So opportunely on the wedding-day!——

Is such a fellow to be trusted, Chremes?

Pam. But that I fear my father, I could make

That matter clear to him. (Aside.)

Simo. A Sharper!

Crito. How?

Chremes. It is his humor, Crito: do not heed him.

Crito. Let him look to ’t. If he persists in saying

Whate’er he pleases, I shall make him hear

Something that may displease him.—Do I stir

In these affairs, or make them my concern?

Bear your misfortunes patiently! For me,

If I speak true or false, shall now be known.

—“A man of Athens once upon a time

Was shipwreck’d on the coast of Andros: with him

This very woman, then an infant. He

In this distress applied, it so fell out,

For help to Chrysis’ father—”

Simo. All romance.

Chremes. Let him alone.

Crito. And will he interrupt me?

Chremes. Go on.

Crito. “Now Chrysis’ father, who receiv’d him,

Was my relation. There I’ve often heard

The man himself declare, he was of Athens.

There too he died.”

Chremes. His name?

Crito. His name so quickly!—

Phania.

Chremes. Amazement!

Crito. Troth, I think ’twas Phania;

But this I’m sure, he said he was of Rhamnus.

Crito. His name so quickly!—Phania.

Chremes. Amazement!

Crito. By my troth, I think ’twas Phania;

But this I’m sure, he said he was of Rhamnus.

Chremes. Oh Jupiter!

Crito. These circumstances, Chremes,

Were known to many others, then in Andros.

Chremes. Heav’n grant it may be as I wish!—Inform me,

Whose daughter, said he, was the child? his own?

Crito. No, not his own.

Chremes. Whose then?

Crito. His brother’s daughter.

Chremes. Mine, mine undoubtedly!

Crito. What say you?

Simo. How!

Pam. Hark, Pamphilus!

Simo. But why believe you this?

Chremes. That Phania was my brother.

Simo. True. I knew him.

Chremes. He, to avoid the war, departed hence:

And fearing ’twere unsafe to leave the child,

Embark’d with her in quest of me for Asia:

Since when I’ve heard no news of him till now.

Pam. I’m scarce myself, my mind is so enrapt

With fear, hope, joy, and wonder of so great,

So sudden happiness.

Simo. Indeed, my Chremes,

I heartily rejoice she’s found your daughter.

Pam. I do believe you, father.

Chremes. But one doubt

There still remains, which gives me pain.

Pam. Away

With all your doubts! you puzzle a plain cause. (Aside.)

Crito. What is that doubt?

Chremes. The name does not agree.

Crito. She had another, when a child.

Chremes. What, Crito?

Can you remember?

Crito. I am hunting for it.

Pam. Shall then his memory oppose my bliss,

When I can minister the cure myself?

No, I will not permit it—Hark you, Chremes,

The name is Pasibula.

Crito. True.

Chremes. The same.

Pam. I’ve heard it from herself a thousand times.

Simo. Chremes, I trust you will believe, we all

Rejoice at this.

Chremes. ’Fore Heaven I believe so.

Pam. And now, my father——

Simo. Peace, son! the event

Has reconcil’d me.

Pam. O thou best of fathers!

Does Chremes too confirm Glycerium mine?

Chremes. And with good cause if Simo hinder not.

Pam. Sir! (To Simo.)

Simo. Be it so.

Chremes. My daughter’s portion is

Ten talents, Pamphilus.

Pam. I am content.

Chremes. I’ll to her instantly: and prithee, Crito,

Along with me! for sure she knows me not.

Exeunt Chremes and Crito.

Simo. Why do you not give orders instantly

To bring her to our house?

Pam. Th’ advice is good.

I’ll give that charge to Davus.

Simo. It can’t be.

Pam. Why?

Simo. He has other business of his own,

Of nearer import to himself.

Pam. What business?

Simo. He’s bound.

Pam. Bound! how, Sir!

Simo. How, Sir?—neck and heels.

Pam. Ah, let him be enlarg’d.

Simo. It shall be done.

Pam. But instantly.

Simo. I’ll in, and order it.

Exit.

Pam. Oh what a happy, happy day is this!