THE TWO FIRST COMEDIES OF Terence called Andria, and the Eunuch newly Englished by THOMAS NEWMAN.

FITTED FOR SCHOLLER Priuate action in their Schooles.

Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus Interpres.

Horace.

LONDON, Printed by G. M. and are to bee sold at the house of M. Fenricus next to the Gray­hound Tauerne in the Black-Friers. 1627.

Author ad Librum

OLd wiues and fooles haue faith, the Cricquets song
In the warm'd chimney portends deathere long
My creede holds no such thing. If Cricquets sing,
I rather doubt the'oreheated brickes may bring
Some danger to my house when these I heare,
(If any thing) I onely fire do feare:
But many things (poore Booke) I iustly feare,
When Critiques descants on thy lines I heare.

Libri ad Authorem responsio.

Feare no true Critique; all that know you, know
What loue and honor to such men you owe:
And men of that high name, will neuer throw
Their censures on an argument so low.
These I not feare; but I do doubt them though,
Who would from fooles Censorious Critiques grow.
T. N

TO THE SCHOLLERS of PAVLES Schoole, T. N. wisheth increase in grace and learning.

WHat I at first intended for mine owne imployment to passe away spare time, and afterward purposed for your pri­uate exercise onely, is now made pub­lique not by my free and voluntarie e­lection; but by an accident of neare nature to con­straint. For hauing hastily finished the translation of these two first comedies of Terence, and ended the foure first acts of the third, I missed my booke one alone day, and then found it againe gelded of the three Latter Acts of the third Comedie. Shortly after I met the Copie thereof in the hands of a Sta­tioner: whence I coniectured that my booke had been copied out by character for sale; and that done by some lame and ignorant Author, who was not able to be his owne discipherer. I had neglected this thiefe, this plagiarie; and had suffered him to make vse of my labour, but that one honest and learned gentleman had seene my doings in Andria, and who also knew I was about the residue. You apprehend the iust reason of this publication. As touching my [Page]Dedication, I do not so much doubt the imputation of carelesnesse of my credit in seeking Patronage from raw and greene youth, as I feare the challenge of ambitiousnesse in prouiding Patrons, who are to stand vp in all succession of times so long as your Schooles foundation shall continue: and some of you being likely very shortly to become of most full abili­tie to defend your vnknowne Client. But till you arriue at such maturitie, giue me leaue to main­taine my selfe, and to prepare you.

I haue alreadie heard somewhat, whereby I further suspect how I may be further quarelled. There will perhaps some be found who on their good faiths will protest that this generall licentiousnesse of turning Latine bookes into English, caries with it much inconuenience. I hope in the generall loosenesse they include not those extant translations of Liuy, Plinie, Plutarch, Suetonius, Tacitus, and the like Authors: if they meane onley such versions as was that of Ouids Art of loue, & the like bookes tending to corruption of youth, I will ioyne with them; and adde, that such translations are not onely inconue­nient but impious also. But in Terence is no such danger. In those few passages where his matter beares any ranke sent or sence, you shall find it hushed by some modest close Eclipsie, or stopping Aposio­pesis; or else couched vnder such darke and misti­call termes, as the young scholler cannot apprehend to any danger of defiling: which course I haue also [Page]pursued. Besides Terence (as I heard) hath for­merly beene Englished and published: so that this way I might decline the crime, of first turning him into our tongues, but because I neuer saw that En­glish Author, and therefore know not how he hath carried it, I dare not shelter my selfe vnder such precedent: but I dare venture to share with Theod. Beza in any hazard of this imputation; and let such Cauillers know, that they by this aspersion shall bee found to wound that learned Frenchman through my sides: for his translation is extant, imprinted in French on one side and in Latine on the other side of euery leafe: and is now in the handes of all young schollers, throughout the whole French King­dome. From the matter of the translation I come to the manner, and therein do foresee, that it may be obiected, that where Terence many times vseth generall tearmes, I do so rashly perticularlize him, places that in many places I retaine not the purpose & meaning of my Author; and againe, that in some my English doth not render the Latine truly: by the first they would inforce, that I conceaue not the drift and scope of my Author; by the later that I vnderstand not his words. I will onely giue you two or three instances, the better to prepare you to ap­prehend the rest. An. Act. 1. Sc. 1. ver. 3. Curentur haec that these things be well ordered or looked too, I in special tearmes thus restraine, that these things be well cooked; hauing relation to Isthaec intrò au­ferte [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page]going before, where I vnderstand Isthaec to be meant of prouision for a dissembled wedding supper. Here it may be opposed by some, not out of their owne braines or conceipt, but by arguments filched out of blinde and ignorant Authors, that I am be­side the cushion. I am not ignorant of three reasons vsed aboue a hundred yeares agoe against this inter­pretation. First it is said that Auferre is a word denoting things contemptible, and therefore cannot be meant of Cates or dainties of diet. Se­condly, it is affirmed that here was no such pro­uision made as would require these seruants to car­rie in: and this they ground on the words of Dauus Act. 2. Scen. 2. Paululum obsonij. And againe, Act. 2. Scen. 6. Vix drachmis inquit obsonatus est decem. Thirdly, they vrge the old French printed bookes, where by the pictures expressing the argu­ments of euery Scene certaine logges or billets are sigured, and not baskets with prouision from the market. Whence they would inferre that by Isthaec no feasting stuffe is intended but matter of fewell onely. Perceiue you not the blockish conceipt of these loggerhead arguers? stay a while; and perhaps I shall affoord you meanes, better to vnderstand the matter. First, therefore I confesse and auoid the argument of contempt: for though Auferre (accor­ding to Donat) be commonly vsed of things spoken of with disdaine, yet not alwayes so; for that which Terence meant by Auferte isthaec in the first line, is [Page]named Curentur haec in the third: Now Curatio in its proper notion is Medicinae, aut (quae est eius famula) coquinae; and cannot be said of any thing whereof we speake with disdaine or loathing. Dauus words proue nothing: they only extenuate, do not deny the prouision. And for the French pictures. Painters and Poets (you know) take much libertie: but for answer I say, that Ascensius a learned Critique, great Grammarian and famous Printer aboue 100. yeares ago in France, and so best able to determine, the doubt, taking vpon him to argue the question, hath left the matter indifferent: yet inclines ra­ther to Edulia then ligna. And me thinks such inter­pretation may be euinced by euidence of reasons; for besides that a wedding was strongly to be borne vp (this could not handsomely be carried without a feast) it is manifest that Simo came from the mar­ket: for so Pamphilus, Act. 1. Scen. 5. Pater prae­teriens modò apud forum. Did these sernants at­tend Simo thence with billets or bauins on their shoulders? this construction were as ridiculous, as improbable that a man of Simo's estate whose sonne was worthy to receiue tenne talents in portion with a wife, Act. 5. Scen. 4. should be vnfurnished of such ordinarie prouision. Or came these seruants emptie home after Simo? and were appointed to carrie in logges and fagots then lying before their Masters doore? this coniecture is as absurd; for how came the wood there? why did it trouble the stage? or [Page]which way might it concerne the Argument? Espe­cially why should Sosia formerly made free, now suspect that his Master Simo would Mutare factū; and recall him to a second bondage, by imposing vp­on him such slauish drudgerie as Curare focum; a scullions no freed mans office? what art needed here­to? and Sosia tenders imployment of art in the words immediately following Quid est, quod ars mea tibi efficere possit amplius? Indeed to steward a feast had in it some art, and seemes to haue beene a part of freed mens imployments, Eunuch, Act. 3. Scen. 5. ver. 60. Thus I hope I haue giuen you some reason of this interpretation. Besides Guido hath long ago so construed it, viz. Anno Dom. 1497. and Ascensius reuiewing Guido & in many places cor­recting him, hath yet herein against his owne french printed copies allowed him, at lest left it indiffe­rent. I told you before I had heard somewhat: it was of him in whose hands I met with my adulterate copie. This man charged the booke with many foule errors, and that iustly: One thing he taxed which was mine owne; yet which I durst not maintaine, for feare of giuing suspicion that I was father of the rest. Ander. Act. 2. Scen. 2. The words were Olera & pisciculos portantem in coenam seni, Which I render with hearbes and small sprots for the old mans supper: The challenge was, that the doer tooke Pisciculus to be Latine for the sprot; beside (said he) it would be considered whether this fish were to bee [Page]found in the Attick seas. I would not haue vouch­safed answer hereunto, but that many coincident passages in the booke will directly fall vnder the same friuolous cauill. In this respect therefore I thought good to satisfie you herein; that by the same reason you may be the better armed to defend the residue. I know Pisciculus to be a generall word including euery species of small fishes, and not the sprot onely, as well as Cetus doth comprehend Quamuis belluam marinam, and not the whale a­lone: yet should I translate Immania cete hideous or dreadfull whales, I thinke the sharpest sighted Grāmarian wold wink at it. Whither the sprot hath euer bin eaten in Athens, I neither know nor care: I writ in London, and would speake to be vnderstood: And being to set downe a poore & homly fish supper thought by sprots it might be wel expressed. Master Gascoigne long since translated a Comedie of A­riostoes, which he Englished Supposes: this was presented in Grayes Inne. He therein thus describes an homely and scanty supper — One small shottrell a peniworth of cheese, and ten spurlings. I thinke no wise man would presse that translator to instance in the very fishes in kind by Ariosto named: I could in­deed haue wished hee had named some other course fish better knowne to his audience: which hee might haue done if hee had said, One shotten herring, and some halfe score of red sprots: For my part, I do not vnderstand what a Shottrellor a Spurling meaneth. [Page]Yea Terence himselfe in the Eunuch Act. 2. sc. 2. brings in Gnato reckoning vp a number of seuerall kinds of Victualers, Cetarij, lanij, coqui, fartores, piscatores &c. It shall be hard for the best Critique to proue all these professions to be had in Athens in Menanders time. This is [...] Comicū as par­donable as vsuall among translators. Furcifer I call pillorie roague: the pillorie beeing with vs a punish­ment of reproch, nearest to that which they vnder­went, who thence were called Furciferi amongst the ancient Romans. Grammarians diuide themselues into two parties about the word Riscus, Eunuch A. 4.1.6. I incline to the one side, and imagine it some such thing as is our hampar of Wicker couered with leather. Peniculus is a word of large extent, and ma­nifold signification, I render it a moppe wherewith our seruants vse to clense wet floores; if another shall call it the Cookes maukin wherewith they cleare ouens, I will not challenge it. Many things were in Athens in Menanders time, which Terence had ne­uer seene, there were as many in Rome in Terence his time, which no English man knoweth. Shall I be driuen to giue names of things not extant? If I put in things now in being to supply the place of other things long since lost, to the vnderstanding of my Reader and sufficient expression of my Author, I hope I can be no further required. These and the like are the maine things which I doubt to heare of; for the rest I leaue to your free and curteous censure; which yet [Page]I desire you to spare, till a few yeares more bee ouer your heads; and then also to vse this method. Let the originall and the English copie be laid together; con­sult for euidence with the old expositors: if they chance to wrangle (as they do almost euery where) then if you please hearken to Donat and Ascensius; if these at any time be silent, or else varie (this hap­pens seldome) then make vse of your owne iudgment. After this course taken you may with pleasure stuffe your booke with marginall castigations; to me it shal be no disparagement, to you it will proue much ad­uantagious; there being no booke of this kind, to the studious and often turning ouer whereof I would more willingly excite you. The hope of this your di­ligence shall incourage me to let slip no vacant time til I haue sent the other foure Comedies among you. Now the Father of lights and giuer of all good gifts enlighten your vnderstandings; strengthen your me­mories; rectisie your wils; and furnish you with all needfull graces, that you may become a comfort to your parents and gouernors, a credit to your schoole-Masters, and Tutors, an ornament to the Church and state wherein you are to liue. In the meane time. committing you to your studies, I bid you heartily farewell.

Your very heartie well wisher T. N.

The Andrian Woman.

The ARGVMENT according to Muretus collection.

THere were two brethren Citizens of Athens, the one called Chremes the o­ther Phania. Chremes being to trauell into Asia left the charge of his then onely daughter Basibula an infant with his brother Phania. Shortly after his departure out of Attica, Phania also to auoid the rage of warre growing hot in Greece, shipped himselfe thence with his little niece, directing his course towards the place where he supposed Chremes aboad: but suffering shipwracke was cast with the little one, vpon the shoare of the Isle of Andros, where getting entertainement of a poore Islander he shortly after died. His host after his decease, changeth the childs name from Pasibula into Glycerium; and hauing bred her vp for some yeares in e­quall education with his owne naturall child called Chry­sis, himselfe also dyeth. Chremes in the Interim had returned to Athens, and there had another daughter named Philu­mena: And all this while supposed his brother and his o­ther daughter to haue long since perished at sea. Chrisis being left fatherlesse and poore leaues Andros, and taking Glycerium with her sailes to Athens; where they dwell to­gether as reputed sisters. Chrisis turnes harlot: her louers draw along with them to her house one Pamphilus sonne of Simo an antient Athenian Citizen. Pamphilus falling in loue with Glycerium gets her with child, and affianceth [Page]himselfe to her. Chremes vpon a publique fame of Pamphi­lus his vertues treates with Simo for a match betweene their children Pamphilus and Philumena: and a marriage is agreed vpon betweene the two old fathers, Pamphilus be­ing not made acquainted. Chrysis soone after dies, at whose funerals Pamphilus occasionally discouered signes of very ardent affection to Glycerium; which Chremes hearing of, renounceth him for sonne in law as one apparantly be­sotted and intangled with extraordinarie loue to a strag­ling strumpet (so ignorantly he stiled the issue of his pro­per loynes) Pamphilus (now first hearing of the determi­ned match) is glad such marriage is disappointed. Simo frets at it. And now is the prefixed day of marriage come, be­ing the day containing the argument of this Coinedie. Simo makes shew to all the people of his familie, as if the marriage were on this day to be solemnized, and this he did out of a foxlike subtiltie to feele his sonnes inclinati­on to marriage, and vpon his refusall to haue iust occa­sion of complaint against him, which hitherto he had not. And if his sonne should declare readinesse to entertaine the match, he then thought it would proue no such diffi­cult matter to cuerrule Chremes; and so the businesse to go on as it was first determined. Simo hauing thus proie­cted matters, meets his sonne; and wils him to pray to the gods for successe vpon his marriage instantly to bee a­complished. The sonne at his fathers salutation stands thunderstrucken, ignorant what course to take for pre­uention. Dauus comes to him in this distraction, at what time one Charinus was with him. This Charinus was a yong man inflamed with the loue of Philumena, the intended bride; and was now in a manner desperate, when he vn­derstood that Pamphilus was that day to marrie her: Pam­philus assuers him of his purposed resolution to the con­trarie. This was the theame of their discourse when Dauus came vpon them. Dauus (now) was Simoes seruant, a fellow [Page]of good reach: and he vpon grounds reasonable had con­ceiued his old masters fetch in this pretended marriage, which (hauing sent away Charinus) he opens to Pamphilus: resoluing him that in all likelihood the old man did but cast out a hooke to catch at his inclination to Glycerium: wishing him therefore without all scruple to promise his father all obedience and readinesse in imbracing this fa­ced marriage; he further intimates, that no hazard was likely hereby to insue: for that Chremes hauing once open­ly refused him, would not (at least so suddenly) intertaine him for a sonne in law. Pamphilus puts the aduice in exe­cution. Simo and Dauus venter either of them vpon the ha­zard, but Simo his lucke carries it. For Chremes is wonne to a new consent, and now is Pamphilus in danger to bee cast vpon a present marriage, where hee neuer intended. What may Dauus how do? author of a counsell not so vn­likely as vnluckie? Chance presents him occasion, and he hath good braine to make vse of the least offered occasi­on: what is that? Glycerium is brought to bed: the new borne child is by her maid, but by Dauus direction) laid at Simo's doore: and this is done iust when Chremes must of necessitie see it: Dauus further so carries the matter, that Chremes vnderstands who is father, who is mother to the child. These things instly mone Chremes to a second re­nunciation: Hence great stirie ariseth: Crito a man of Andros (arriued at Athens vpon newes of Crysis her death, being next heire to her estate) ends all; by discovering Glyceriums freedome & parentage. Pamphilus marries Gly­cerium now againe knowne by her first name Pasibula; Charinus marries the other sister Philumena.

The Actors and their Characters.

SImo An old man carefull of his sonne, whom hee loued at first for his reported vertues: and after he once doubted his carriage, shewed his greater loue in his care of him. In the first Seene he carries himselfe milde in discourse and behauiour: and still after in­creaseth in angry moode, till at length he growes to rage and passion.

Pamphilus. Sonne to Simo, a well qualified young man and faithfull louer.

Dauus Seruant of the family, subtile wife, consident.

Dromo. Another seruant, onely vsed for Dauus punish­ment.

Sosia. Snno's freed-man, a protaticke person brought in onely, to whom the ground of the argument might be opened.

Chremes. an old man of a quiet and tranquill spirit.

Glycerium. Daughter of Chremes not presented on the Stage; neither speakes but within doores in labor of child-birth:

Lesbia. Her midwife.

Misis. Hermaid-seruant.

Charinus. A young man, simple and ignorant.

Byrrhia. His man for wit aboue his master. Discreete.

Crito. A stranger of Andros, poore yet honest, wise and of a good spirit and stomach.

The Prologue.

OVr Poet first setting his mind to write,
Deemd this the sole maine charge vpon him laid,
To please the people with the playes he made:
But now he finds that he misreckond quite.
For, that he cannot (Prologue wise) now lay
The argument of this his play aright,
Is causd by an old rank'rous Poets spite;
Who drutes him to cleare faultes, leaue the meant way.
Now pray obserue their cauellings: those playes
Andria and Perinthia, which Menander wrote,
(Know one, know both) not much vnlike in plot,
Are different yet both in their stile and phrase.
He not denies that from Perinthia
Those things which seemd conuenient in the same,
He (as his owne) hath drawne into the frame,
And course of this presented Andria.
This is the thing they challenge: and they braule
That in such sort a cleanely Comedie
Should not be hotch-potchd. These men verily
While much they seeme, shew they know nought at all:
Who him accusing draw his presidents
Nauius, Plautus, Ennius, in like crime,
To whose mistakings he would rather climbe,
Then follow these mens obscure diligence.
I further wish'hem hence soorth keepe'hem still;
And cease with euill language him to sting;
Lest their ill doing in their eares do ring.
Spectators kind, of you we craue good will;
In silence shewne and kinde attention;
That without preiudice our play y'ould heare:
Thence you may fully know, if it rest cleare,
That all our future purposd action
Of new made playes be to be banisht quite;
Without aduentring your hereafter sight:

THE ANDRIAN VVOMAN.

Act. 1.

Scen. 1.

Enter Simo and Sosia with two or three seruanes more bearing prouision from the Market.
Simo.

YOu sirs haue those things in: away I say.

Exeunt the seruants.
Sosia

draw neere; I am to speak with you.

Sos.
I thinke th'errand giu'n;
your meaning is
I looke to those things carefull cookery.
Sim.

No: tis another matter.

Sos.
Pray say on
What tis, my art may further doe for you.
Sim.
Here's neede of no such art, in what I purpose;
But of those parts which I haue euer noted
To dwell in thee; trust, and true secrecie.
Sos.

I waite your pleasure.

Sim.
Since I bought thee first
Being then a yongling, in what gentle sort,
In what due course, thou ledst thy seruice with me,
Thy selfe well know'st: and for I found thee carefull
In thy imployments, the best good I had
To answer it, I gaue thee; libertie.
Sos.

I [...]re it sir in minde.

Sim.

And I repent nor.

Sos.
[...] is my harts ioy Master, if I did
Or [...] can doe, ought to your satisfaction;
And further owe you thankes that you acknowledge
I well accepted: yet it troubles me,
For this remembrancing your benefit,
Seemes to vpbraid me, as forgetting it.
Pray in one word acquaint me with your pleasure.
Sim.
I will; but first I tell thee of this thing,
This which thou thinkst is no meant marriage.
Sos.

Why make you as it were then?

Sim.
Thou shalt heare
From the beginning all: and by that meanes
Shalt better know my Sonnes forepassed life,
My present purpose, and thy future charge.
My Sonne hauing past his childhood Sosia
Hath now more scope allowed him; before
How could one know or fist his disposition,
While tender age, seare, tutors awed him?
Sos.

Sir, you say right.

Sim.
What almost all youth doe,
To set their minde on one some chosen course;
That to breede Herse, this Hounds, and both to hunt,
A third to study of Phylosophie:
He none of these followed professedly,
Aboue the rest: but yet all moderately.
I ioyd at it.
Sos.
Sir, not without good cause:
"For to oredoe no one thing, in my sence
"To mans life is of chiefest consequence.
Sim.
Such his behauiour; all those gently
To beare and forbeare, that he kept withall;
Apply himselfe to please and humor all;
Crosse none, nor proudly seeke to ouertop
His young companions: so that easily
He got him friends and praise; yet without enuie.
Sos.
He bare him wisely: for in this times state
Sweet yeelding procures friends; blunt truth gets hate.
Sim.
Meane while a certaine woman three yeeres since
Drawne by her wants and kindreds negligence,
From Anaros Isle came to our neighborhood;
Of passing beautie, flouring womanhood.
Sos.

I seare this Andrian woman bodes no good.

Sim.
She at the first a sparing chaste life led;
At Rocke and Loome, hard labord to get bread:
But when a first, a second, a third came;
Tendring their loues, gifts promis'd with the same,
(As all our natures are prone commonly
From labour vnto wanton libertie)
She stoop'd to lure, began the gainfull trade.
By those that then chiefe loue vnto her made,
My Sonne was drawne along occasionally
To banquet with 'hem; keepe 'hem company.
I to my selfe — Sure the young frie is tane:
H'as catcht the poisoned bait; with it, his bane.
These louers seruants passing to and fro
I eu'rie morning watch; and calling to
One that I spied, thus question; Prethee lad,
Who yesterday yond Chrysis company had?
So was the Andrian call'd.
Sos.

Sir. I conceaue you.

Sim.
The answer was, Phoedrus, or Nicerate,
Or Clinias (for at that time those three
Her ioyntly lou'd.) I reply presently,
And what did Pamphilus? what? (answers he.)
He stak'd his share, and supp'd: this gladded me.
At other times I cast more newes to learne;
Still nothing found that did my Sonne concerne.
I thought him now proofe-temper'd gainst excesse,
Great patterne of a setled staiednesse.
For he that deales with natures of this kinde,
Yet thereby growes not slagg'ring in his minde;
To such a mans owne hands thou maist be bold
To leaue the free reignes of his life in hold.
[Page 4]
As this gaue me most satisfying pleasure,
So all tongues talk'd my good, proclaim'd my treasure,
In hauing such a qualified Sonne.
What should I make further relation?
Chremes our neighbour drawne by this same bruit,
Freely comes to me; and makes earnest suit
To place his daughter, yea his onely one
With a large dowre as wife vnto my Sonne:
I agreed the marriage, on his motion;
And this the day, it is appointed on.
Sos.
What barie now stoppeth? why in very deede
According to the shew, it not proceede?
Sim.
Ile tell thee: few dayes after this befell,
Our neighbour Chrysis died.
Sos.
That's chanced well.
You haue reuin'd me; I much doubted her.
Sim.
With Chrysis louers still my Sonne comes there
Alike her funerall lookes to; alike cheere
Sometimes of sadnesse shewes, sometimes alike
Weepes with 'hem: I his carriage well did like
Thus argued I; Her death how tenderly
For very small acquaintance doth he take?
What, if himselfe had lou'd her? what for me,
What will he doe for me, his Fathers sake?
All this I thought in my simplcitie,
Meerely the functions of humilitie,
And of kinde heart. Why leng then I my tale?
My selfe for his sake tend the funerall.
Dreaming as yet no euill.
Sos.

Ha! what meanes this?

Sim.
Ile cause thee know. The dead corps is brought out;
Along we goe; now there amidst the throng
Of wonten, I a maiden very young
Perchance espied; of person—
Sos.

Perhaps handsome.

Sim.
I, and of countenance Sosia so delightsome,
So modest, faire, that nothing might her staine:
Who for she seem'd to me, in all the traine
Most to lament; and was aboue the rest
[Page 5]
Of sweet and comely personage and face.
I prest neere to the Maids, askt what she was:
They told me Chrysis sister. Instantly
It strooke me cold at heart. Oh God! thought I,
Hence grew his teares: his tendernesse she breeds.
Sos.

How I doe feare whither your tale proceeds.

Sim.
The Funerall goes on: we attend the same
To th'Sepulchre she's come: into the flame
She's put: all weepe. The maid I named late
Approacht the fire, as carelesse, desperate;
To her euident danger: here my frighted Sonne
Well shewed his long concealed affection
So close dissembled: to her hies he fast,
And both his armes folding about her wast,
My deere Glycerium saies he, how doost? say,
What cause hast thou to make thy selfe away?
Then she (that all their indeard loue might spie)
Cast her selfe on him, weeping tenderly.
Sos.

How? what doe you say?

Sim.
Home I get mee streight,
Inrag'd and fretting; yet no cause of weight
Appeard to me to chide him: he might plead,
What foule fact haue I done? what merited?
Or wherein faulted, Father? one that sought
To burne her selfe, I hindred (as I ought)
And sau'd her life. It were a faire reply.
Sos.
You weigh things well; for if deseruedly
He may be chidden which help'd life to saue,
Who hurts or spoiles one, what should that man haue?
Sim.
Next day comes Chremes to me, vrging thus,
Oh case to be lamented! Pamphilus
(I finde cleare) holds yond stranger harlotrie
In place of a iust wife: this earnestly
I doe denie, he stifly holds. In fine,
I so part with him, as one vtterly
[Page 6]
Denies to giue his Daughter to my Sonne.
Sos.

Chid you not Pamphilus yet?

Sim.
Nor yet I saw
A grounded cause to build a chiding on.
Sos.

Why I pray?

Sim.
Thus my Sonne might vrge his law:
Your selfe sir set a limitation
To this my course: the time is comming on,
I must my selfe to anothers will apply:
Let meath interim mine owne satisfie.
Sos.

For what cause then of blaming will you [...]

Sim.
If for loose loue he shall dome to marrie
That is the first occasion that I seeke
Against him; and the present way I make
By this selfe marriage, if he shew mislike
Is hereby true pretence of blame to take.
Besides, if wicked Dauus haue a foot
Any contriuement, that he now consume
His stocke of knauerie whil'st it cannot hurt
Who (I imagine) tooth and naile will practise,
And that with purpose rather to crosse me
Then please my Sonne.
Sos.

Why should you so conceaue?

Sim.
Mak'st thou a question? euill mindes, ill manners.
Whom if in any thing I shall discouer —
But what neede talke? if happily it fall
(As I doe wish) my Sonne be nothing backward,
It onely rests, that I perswade with Chremes:
Which I hope may be wrought. Now, be't your charge
Well to beare vp this seeming marriage;
Fright Dauus; obserue my Sonnes carriage;
And note their consultations.
Sos.

Tis enough; Ile see to 't: shall we in.

Sim.
Goe before, I follow.
Exit Sosia.
There is no question, my Sonne would decline
This marriage; that I markt in Dauus seare,
[Page 7]
When he had heard tht wedding did goe forward.
But he himselfe comes forth.

Scen. 2.

Enter Dauus.
Dau.
I Marld if this would end so, and still doubted
Whereto my Masters caline remisnesse tended:
Who when he saw his Sonne could haue no wife,
Neuer made word to vs on't; nor gaue signe
Of being troubled at it.
Sim.
Now he will
Talke to you on't; and as I doe suppose
To your no little cost.
Dau.
This was his cunning,
To lead vs on in saire fooles paradise;
And in our secure dreaming take vs napping,
Hauing no time to cast preuention.
A fox ifaith.
Sim.

What ist the knaue talkes on?

Dau.

My Master, and vnheeded!

Sim.

Dauus—

Dau.

Ha, what is the affaire?

Sim.

Come you hither to me.

Dau.

What now trow is in working?

Sim.

What faist thou?

Dau.

What sir the businesse?

Sim.
Dost thou demand that?
Folke talke my Sonne's in loue.
Dau.
That birladie
Concernes the world to thinke on.
Sim.
Dost marke me
In what I say or not?
Dau.

Oh, yes sir well.

Sim.
But now of this for me to make inquirie
Were no kinde Fathers part. What hitherto
H'as done, I passe not: while the time permitted
I gaue him way to take his course and pleasures:
His yeares now call for a new life, new manners.
Henceforward Dauus I require, or rather
(If the word may befit me) I request thee,
Retriue my Sonne from this loose libertie.
Dau.

What may this meane?

Sim.
All these loose libertines
That wantonly doe loue, cannot indure
To heare of wiuing.
Dau.

So indeede they say

Sim.
Beside, if such one chance to light vpon
Some patron of his inclination,
His raw greene sickly minde he commonly
Wonts to the worser part still to apply.
Dau.

Troth sir I vnderstand you not.

Sim.

How, not?

Dau.
No verily: I am your plaine man Dauus;
No riddle-teller, cunning Oedipus.
Sim.

Thould'st then in plaine tearmes haue me speake my minde?

Dau.

Yes, pray at any hand sir.

Sim.
If I finde
That thou to day vse any cunning crotchet,
Whereby to hinder this intended wedding;
Or faine wouldst shew thy wits sine nimblenesse:
When I haue first well whipt thee, in the Mill
Ile thrust thee, to thy very dying day:
With this prouiso and condition,
If euer I thence free thee, Ile grinde for thee.
What, vnderstand'st me yet, or not yet neither?
Dau.
Yes clearely now; y'haue vs'd no round-abouts,
But come to th' matter roundly.
Sim.
In ought else
Saue this, I better could indure a slighting.
Dau.

Pray sir good words yet.

Sim.
Mak'st thou a iest on't?
I know thee to a haire: but I doe tell thee,
Least thou shouldst rashly venture. Doe not say
But th'hast had faire warning giu'n thee: looke to't.
Exit Simo.

Scen. 3.

Dau.
VPon my faith now Dauus here's no leasure
Left thee, to rest or dreame vpon the matter;
[Page 9]
For ought I gather of the old mans purpose
Touching this wedding. which not wisely holpen
Me or young Master vndoes vtterly.
Not can I iudge my best course, him to succour,
Or leane to the old mans counsell: forsake him?
I doubt his life; assist him? th'others threats;
Whom to o're reach it's hard. First h'as discouerd
All of their loue: then keepes hard watch o're me,
Least I should lead some trumping card in th'way:
Which if he finde, I'm lost: or else at pleasure
Heele take occasion, be it right, be it wrong;
And to the Mill I shall be tumbled headlong.
To all these hazards comes another mischiefe:
This Andrian woman, be she his wise, or lemman,
Is great with childe by him. Now, tis worth nothing
To heare their bold aduenture: none can iudge it
Fond louers fancie, but meere frenzie rather:
For whether boy or girle she shall bring forth,
They haue resolu'd to keepe and nourish it.
Besides they coyne a prettie cunning fable,
Among themselues, that shee's free Atticke borne.
There was long since (say they) an ancient Merchant
Shipwrackt on Andros Iland; who there died;
And that with him then saued, Chrysis Father
Tooke vp a little girle. Conceited fiction!
To me it seemes vnlikely: yet they sooth
Themselues ith' tale. But see Mysis comming
Enter Mysis.
From out Glyceriums house. Ile to the Market
To seeke out Pamphilus: for feare his Father
Vnwates doe presse him with this businesse.
Exit Dauus.

Scen. 4.

Mys.
GOod God Archillis, I doe heare you woman:
You would haue Lesbia fetcht; vpon my word
[Page 10]
She is a drunken gossip, and vnheedie:
And one scarce fit to whom you may commit
A woman in first childbirth: Yet He fetch her.
Note you the old ones importunitie!
None but her pot companion will serue turne.
But I pray God grant this a good deliuery:
Enter Pamphilus.
And that the Midwife rather may elsewhere
Neglect, then here. But what may be the cause
I Pamph' us see so much disquieted?
I feare what it may be. Ile stay a while
To know the reason of his troubled gesture.

Scen. 5.

Pam.
IS this kinde dealing? courteous attempt?
Is this a Fathers carriage?
Mys.

What is that?

Pam.
Oh gods and men your faith! what can be said,
Neglect, disgrace, or scorne, if this be none?
Say he had ment to marry me to day;
Ought I not haue foreknowne it? ought I not
Haue bin made priuie to it?
Mys.
Out alas,
Wretch that I am, what doe I heare him talke of?
Pam.
What should I thinke of Chremes? who denied
To trust me as a husband with his daughter?
Changeth he minde, because I rest vnchang'd?
That he should still thus obstinately indeauor
Me most accursed to diuorce and seuer
From my Glycertam? which, if it fall out,
I am vndone for euer. Amongst men
Was euer yet found out one more disgracefull?
More euery way vnhappy then my selfe?
Men, gods assist me! is there left no way
For me to shunne Chremes affinitie?
How many wayes haue I bin scorn'd? refus'd?
[Page 11]
(All done, all ended) the other day cast of
Ain now againe required: and why so?
Vnlesse (I guesse) h'has some deformed piece,
Which when he cannot fasten vpon any,
He seekes to [...] on me?
Mys.
This talke of his
Kils me poore wretch with seare.
Pam.
For what should I
Now of my Father speake? Oh God! that he
So weightie a thing should doe so carelesly.
Passing now by me in the Market-place,
Goe, get you home, saies he; and fit your selfe:
This day you must be married Pamphilus.
To m [...] his words seem'd of such sound and sence,
As he had said, get home and hang thy selfe.
I stood confounded at it. Doe you thinke
I had a word to vtter? any excuse?
Though foolish, false, vnsitting? I stood dumbe.
Yet had I known't afore, what could I doe?
If any now should aske me, I would surely
Vse other course, then (as I did) keepe silence.
But now what first thing shall I enter on?
So many cares, seuerall distraction,
Puzzles my minde: loue, pittie of her, feare
About this marriage so loath'd, so neare:
Then the respect I owe my Father, who
So mildely hath me suffied hitherto
Without restraint to runne my owne free race,
In euery course I listed: with what face
May I now crosse his pleasure? wretched me!
I know not what to rest on.
Mys.
I poore woman
Doubt th'end of this irresolution.
But now tis very needfull that I draw him
To speake with her; or else of her
Finde some discourse to him. Whil'st yet his minde
Hangs wauering, euery little moment turnes it.
Pam.
Who ist talkes hereabout? Mysis well met.
Mys.

Pamphilus and you.

Pam.

How does my dearest?

Mys.
How does she? marie sir in pangs of trauaile:
And many troublous thoughts come in her minde
About this day, once purpos'd for your wedding.
She further doubts, least you may minde to leaue her.
Pam.
May I be thought to minde a thing so foule?
And through my fault suffer mine owne deare soule
To be abus'd? trusting her heart, her life
To me? whom I haue made my dearest wife?
May I permit her chaste well trained minde
Inforced by foule want to change it kinde?
No, I will neuer doe it.
Mys.
If it lay
In you, I neede not feare: but how you may
Be forced by your Father, is the doubt.
Pam.
What Mysis dost thou thinke me such a loue?
So ingratefull further? so inhumane, bestiall?
That nor acquaintance, loue, or shame, at all
May moue or prompt me to keepe plighted faith?
Mys.
One thing I know, that she deserued hath
That you should minde her.
Pam.
Should minde her Mysis?
Euen now the very latest words of Chrysis
Touching Glycerium, rest imprinted here;
Here at my heart. Her last houre drawing neere,
She cald for me: I came to her: all you
Voided the roome: being alone we two
She thus began. Kinde Pamphilus you see
Glyceriums youth and beautie; verily
Two weake vnsafe guards (as your selfe perceiue)
To keepe her ch [...]ste, guard the small stocke I leaue.
Wherefore by this right hand I craue of thee,
By thy good nature, thy fidelitie:
I adiure thee by her here vnfriendednesse
Thou wouldst not leaue her: doe not part from her.
If as a brother I thee still respected,
[Page 13]
If she of all men hath thee best affected,
As she in all things sought thy full contentment
In true obseruance, due obedience.
I leaue thee as a friend, a guardian, Father,
A husband to her. All the little wealth
I leaue behinde, I trust to thy disposing.
Then her hand taking, in my hand she clasp'd it;
And forthwith died. I then there recein'd her;
Receiu'd will keepe.
Mys.

Indeede sir I hope so.

Pam.

But why dost now come from her?

Mys.
I am sent
To fetch the Midwife.
Pam.
Oh, I prethee hasten.
And heare you? see you mention not a word
About the marriage: least it may perhaps
Adde to her weaknesse.
Mys.

I doe minde it sir.

Exeunt Pamphilus and Mysis seuerall waies.

Act. 2.

Scen. 1.

Enter Charinus and Byrrhia his man.
Cha
VVHat saist thou Byrrhia? must she then to day
Be married vnto Pamphilus?
Byrr.

Yes sir.

Chae.

How dost thou know it?

Byr.
But ene very now
Dauus so told me in the Market-place.
Cha.
Accursed, wretched me! how hitherto
My thoughts haue waited vpon hope and feare?
But hope now being fled, my fainting spirits
Wasted with care, yeeld to confusion.
Byr.
Pray, for Gods loue Charinus, since that things
Cannot be as you would, seeke to desire
What you may compasse.
Cha.
There is nothing else
In all the world I wish, but Philumen.
Byr.
But how much better were it, to endeauour
[Page 14]
To vnlodge this idle loue out of your heart,
Then thus to talke of that which addes more fewell
To this your bootlesse vaine affection?
Enter Pamphilus walking in a dumpe.
Cha.
All men in health can easily prescribe
To the sicke patient good directions.
If thou wert in my case thy minde would alter.
Byr.

Well sir then doe your pleasure.

Cha.
But lo yonder
Where Pamphilus is. I doe meane to venture
All trials yet, ere I doe fully perish.
Byr.

What meanes he now to doe?

Cha.
I will request,
Beseech him, open to him all my loue.
I hope I may obtaine of him at least,
For some few dayes to put the wedding of.
I trust in th'Interim somewhat may be done.
Byr.

That somewhat is iust nothing.

Cha.
Byrrhia,
What think'st thou of it? shall I goe to him?
Byr.
What else? if he will yeeld to nothing, yet
Let him suspect, you haue good minde to horne him
If he shall marrie her.
Cha.
Away lience varlet,
With this thy lewd suspition.
Pam.
Charinus,
God saue you.
Cha.
And you also Pamphilus.
I was a comming to you, with desire
To craue hope, helpe, health, counsell at your hands.
Pam.
Troth I haue neither place for counsell left,
Nor meanes to helpe. but what's the matter man?
Cha.

Are you to day to marrie?

Pam.

So they say.

Cha.
If you doe Pamphilus, I can assure you,
This is the last day you shall euer see me.
Pam.

How so?

Cha.
I shame to tell it, Birrhia prithee
Declare the matter to him.
Byr.

Yes, I will.

Pam.

What is it?

Byr.

Sir, he loues your wise that shall be.

Pam.
Troth he and I are of two seuerall mindes:
I can assure thee. Prithee hearken hither
[Page 15]
Charinus; ha'st not had to doe with her
More, then thy man here talkes of.
Cha.
Pamphilus,
No o'my troth. I am. Oh, how I wish thou haddest.
Cha.
Now I intreat thee by our friendship, loue;
First that you would not marrie her at all.
Pam.

Ile (what I can) auoid it.

Cha.
If't full so,
You cannot shun it, or doe else affect it—
Pam.

Affect it?

Cha.
Yet deferre it of awhile,
That I may void hence somewhere, and not see't.
Pam.
Charinus, now heare me. I doe not think't
At any time a part of honestie,
When one deserues nought, to expect for thankes.
Ide rather shun this match then thou obtain't.
Cha.

You put new life into me.

Pam.
If thou canst now,
Or this this thy man here; worke, inuent, fashion,
Take all the course you can to make her thine:
I will finde meanes, that mine she shall not be.
Enter Dauus.
Cha.

I haue enough.

Pam.
And in good time I see
Danus, whose counsell I rely vpon.
Cha.
But thou dull head canst nothing cast about
Worth knowing. Can you leaue vs?
Byr.

Yes, and gladly.

Exit Byrrhia.

Scen. 2.

Dau.
GOod God! what good newes bring I?
But where [...]row may I finde Pamphilus out?
To [...]d his feares, and sill his heart with comfort.
Cha.
He is iocund, at what I know not.
Pam.
Tut, man, tis, nothing.
The mischiefe now afoot, he yet not heares of.
Dau.

Who if he haue heard of this prepared wedding —

Cha.

Doe you not heare him?

Dau.
I guesse verily
Hunts all the towne ore for me, like a madman.
[Page 16]
But where shall I looke for him? to what place
First bend my course?
Cha

Why speake you not vnto him?

Dau.

Ile get me hence, and seeke him.

Pam.
Dauus, stay:
Come hither.
Dau.
Who ist cals? Oh Pamphilus,
I sought you: you here too Charinus? braue.
Both in the nicke. Y'are the men, I lookt for.
Pam.

Oh Dauus I me vndone.

Dau.

Tut, list to me.

Cha.

I am for euer lost.

Dau.

Your feare I know.

Pam.

My life now lies at stake.

Dau.

Yours I know too.

Pam.

I must be married.

Dau.

That I also know.

Pam.

I, but this very day.

Dau.
You weary me
With newes, that I am perfect in already.
You feare to haue her; you to misse her.
Cha.

Th'hast it.

Pam.

I that's the point.

Dau.
Well, and I say the point
Has then no danger in it. Obserue me.
Pam.

For Gods sake rid me quickly of this feare.

Dau.
Lo, I fice thee. Chremis now's not minded
To trouble you with a wife.
Pam.

How doest know it?

Dau.
Your Father tooke me by the sleeue e'en now,
And told me this day he would marrie you:
Adding much more, which now's no time to talke on.
Presently hastning to acquaint you with it,
I ranne to the Market-place: there missing you
I got to a high rais'd ground, and round about
Look'd to espie you; could not. Then by ch [...]ce
I saw Charinus seruant, Birrhia:
Of him I ask'd, he said he had not seene you:
It vex'd me: still I cast what I should doe.
Returning thence, a certaine realousie
By circumstances bred came in my minde.
V [...]ph! heres small rost; the old man sad, a wedding?
It scarce hangs well together.
Pam.

Whereto this?

Dau.
I bie me streight to hremes; thither come,
I note a silent stilnesse at the doore.
Now, this gaue me good heart.
Cha.

Well said, goe on.

Dau.
Somewhile I there continue: all that while
I saw no creature passing out or in;
No matron there; no decking of the house;
No stirre; I neerer came, and peeped in.
Pam.

I know they are good coniectures.

Dau.
Doe such things
Thinke you agree vnto a nuptiall day?
Pam.

In troth I thinke not Dauus.

Dau.
Doe you say, thinke?
You construe things not well: the case is plaine.
Besides, thence going I met Chremes seruant
With hearbs and small sprots for the old mans supper.
Cha.

Dauus, through thee I am now rid of care.

Dau.

Nay of my faith not so.

Cha.
Why man prethee?
For thou conclud'st, he will not giue her him.
Dau.
Conceited pate! as if it therefore followed,
If he not haue her, you must marrie her.
Vnlesse you lookt toot, make your suit, and meanes
T'her fathers friends, you may hap hop wiuelesse.
Cha.
Thou promptst me well; Ile goe about it streight.
Though ought this hope haue faild me: fare ye well.
Exit Charinus.

Scen. 3.

Pam.
VVHat meanes my father then?
Why doubles he?
Dau.
Ile tell you. If he now should chafe at you,
Cause Chremes will not let you haue his daughter,
Himselfe may see he plainly iniur'd you:
If he should presse you on, before he knew
How your minde stood inclined to the match.
But if you shall stiffely denie to wed her;
Then he will iustly lay the blame on you:
Then shall we haue a coyle on't.
Pam.
What would'st haue me
To vndergoe this marriage?
Dau.
Pamphilus,
He is your Father: and it will be hard
T'oppose him: this your sweet heart too (you know)
Is friendlesse here. Heele finde cause easily
To thrust her out o'th'towne.
Pam.

Out o'th towne man?

Dau.

And speedily too.

Pam.
Counsell me then Dauus.
What I should doe.
Dau.

Tell him you'l marrie her.

Pam.

How?

Dau.

What's the matter?

Pam.

Should I tell him so?

Dau.

Why not?

Pam.

I nere will deo't.

Dau.

Denie me not.

Pam.

Perswade me not.

Dau.

Note, what hence will follow.

Pam.

To be shut out from her, mew'd vp to this.

Dau.
No, no such thing. I guesse your father thus
Will say to you: my purpose Pamphilus
Is that this day you wed: then answer you,
Sir, I am ready: pray you tell me now
For what cause can he chide you? by this meanes
His setled plots you shall disorder cleane:
Your selfe yet runne no hazard; for the thought
Is groundlesse, vaine, that Chremes may be wrought
To giue his daughter: nor doe you let fall
Your course, least he his purpose should recall.
Tell you your Father that you like the Bride:
That, when he would, he haue no cause to chide.
And for the dangerous passage that you feare;
Ile steare your course, and waft you ouer cleare.
No man will giue his daughter as a wife
To one discouerd of your wanton life.
Heele with some poore man rather seeke to place her,
Then suffer you to iniure or disgrace her.
But if your father see you quiet take
This his command, you shall him retchlesse make.
[Page 19]
At leasure heele seeke out some other wife,
Meane time your fathers death may end the strife
Or some like good chance happen.
Pam.

Thinkst thou so?

Dau.

There is no doubt ith' world on't.

Pam.

Take you heede to what you lead me.

Dau.

Will you sir be quiet?

Pam.
Ile tell my father as thou bidst me: but
There must be care had, he by no meanes know
she's with childe by me; for I haue promis'd
To giue it breeding.
Dau.

Oh bold enterprise!

Pam.
She begg'd this promise of me, as assurance
That I would not forsake her.
Enter Simo.
Dau.
Ile looke toot.
Your Father's here: let him not note you sad.

Scen. 4.

Sim.

I Come to obserue their carriage, note their plots.

Dau.
He thinkes now surely, youle refuse to marrie:
And comes from some lone place premeditate,
Thinking to puzzle you with a set speech:
Therefore collect your selfe.
Pam.

Well, as I can.

Dau.
In this thing Pamphilus you shall take my word,
You shall not now change two crosse sillables,
If you but say, you readie are to marrie.

Scen. 5.

Enter Byrrhia listening the incounter betweene Simo and his Sonne.
Byr.
MY Master will'd me (all things else set of)
Pamphilus watch: & learn what course he takes
[Page 20]
About the Bride. This caus'd me dogge him hither:
And loe, where he is with Dauus. To my taske.
Sim.

I see 'hem both together.

Dau.

Now sir looke toot.

Sim.

Pamphilus.

Dau.

Looke you backe as on the sodaine.

Pam.

Oh, you my father?

Dau.

I, that's well carried.

Sim.
As I late told thee, tis my purpose Sonne
That thou this day be married.
Dau.
Now I feare
His answer on our side.
Pam.
Sir, or in this
Or in what else I wait vpon your pleasure.
Byr.

Ha!

Dau.

Mute.

Byr.

What said he?

Sim.
Thou dost now my Sonne
As well becomes thee, when so graciously
Thou yeeldst to what I craue.
Dau.

Was I not right?

Byr.

My Master (as I heare) hath lost his wife.

Sim.
Get you now in that when the time requires,
We be not driu'n to stay for you.
Pam.

Yes sir.

Exit Pamphilus.
Byr.
That in nothing one man may trust another!
It is an old said saying, and as common,
All to themselues wish best. My selfe haue seene
The maiden, and remember her a faire one.
Which makes me better beare with Pamphilus,
If he himselfe had rather nightly bed her,
Then let my Master. Ile beare backe this newes:
That he may pay me well, for my ill tidings.
Exit Byrrhia.

Scen. 6.

Dau.
MY Master thinkes now I haue some deuice
A foot: and that, for that end I stay here.
Sim.

What ist, thou talkest Dauus?

Dau.

Eene iust sir.

Sim.

What, nothing? ha?

Dau.

Indeede sir nothing, I.

Sim.

I sure did looke to heare some newes from thee.

Dau.
I know tis chanced quite besides his aime:
That's it which nettles him.
Sim.
Ist possible
I get thee tell me a truth?
Dau.

Most readily.

Sim.
Doos this same wedding grieue him any thing,
By reason of the acquaintance that he holds
With yonder stranger?
Dau.
Truely I thinke not.
Or if it doe, the matter of his trouble
Will be at most two or three daies disquiet:
(Conceiue you sir?) then it will clearely vanish.
For with himselfe h'as tane a due account,
And set all cleare that way.
Sim.

I doe commend him.

Dau.
Whilst he had leaue, & his green youth did suffer'r
He wencht a little; but yet priuately:
He euer had a care to keepe his name
Vntoucht; as did become a wise yong man.
Now mariage fits, he frames his minde that way.
Sim.

And yet me thought he appeared somewhat sad.

Dau.
Nothing about this businesse; but there's cause
That makes him somewhat angry with you.
Sim.

What?

Dau.

A trifle.

Sim.

What ist?

Dau.

Nothing.

Sim.

Tell me what?

Dau.

He saies y'are ouerniggardish in Cost.

Sim.

Who, I?

Dau.
That you haue scarce disbusd ten groats
In your prouision for his wedding supper:
What (saies he) is this like a Sonnes nuptials
Whom chiefely of my fellow batchelors
May I inuite (quoth he) to such a banquet?
And to speake that which may be said herein;
Intruth you are too too sparing, I lik't not.
Sim.

Hold your tongue.

Dau.

I haue gald him.

Sim.
I will see
That all shall be well carried. What meanes this?
[Page 22]
What ist this old fox-hunt doth hammer on?
If there be any knauerie, his pare forg'd it.
Exeunt Simo and Dauus.

Act. 3.

Scen. 1.

Enter Lesbia, the Midwise and Mysis Glyceriums ma [...]de at onedsore, Simo and Dauus at another.
Mys.
I, Indeede Lesbia you haue said aright:
A woman hardly findes a faithfull louer.
Sim.

Belongs this maide to th' Andrian here?

Dau.

Yes sir.

Mys.

But this kinde Pamphilus

Sim.

What ist she saies?

Mys.

Hath giuen her full assurance—

Sim.

Out alas!

Dau.

Would either he were dease now or she dumbe.

Mys.

That sonne or daughter, he will foster it.

Sim.
Oh Iupiter! what newes is this I heare?
All is lost vtterly; if she speake truth.
Lesb.

You doe describe a yong man honest natur'd.

Mys.
Oh, the best natur'd gentleman — but pray,
Follow me in, for feare she stay for you.
Les.

Yes I follow.

Dau.

What helpe for this now, trow?

Exet Lesbya and Mysis.
Sim.
What, is he mad? a loose land loping strumpet?
Oh! I haue it: old dulhead (as I was)
I fearce at length could hit on't.
Dau.

What has he hit on, saies he?

Sim.
This first knauish practise
Of my man here is now thus put vpon me:
[Page 23]
She is to be in child birth, to flight Chremes.
Glycerium with­in doores. Iuno, Lucina helpe; saue mee, I pray thee.
Sim.
Horda such speede? ha, ha, ridiculous
As soone as are she heard me at the doore,
The throwes come on: scarce fitly a'my word,
You ranke and place your times scarce sitly Dauus.
Dau.

I sir?

Sim.

Or haue your Actors mist their Cues?

Dau.

I know not what you meane, sir.

Sim.
If this fellow
Had set vpon me, being vnprouided
In a true marriage oh, what pageants
Would he haue plaid me? Let him now make sure
His owne aduenture; [...]m [...]ith port secure.

Scen. 2.

Enter Lesbia speaking to the Nurse within doores.
Lesb.
AS yet Archillis I doe note in her
All vsuall matters, and good signes of health
First see her cleansd, and then deliuer her
That drinke, in measure as I gaue in charge:
Ile be here straight againe: as God shall helpe me.
She hath brought Pamphilus a goodly boy.
If it please God, may it liue to be a man:
Seeing the father is of disposition
So honest; and makes conscience to wrong
This good young woman.
Exit Lesbia.
Sim.
Who did euer know thee
That would not sweare, this thy contriuing now?
Dau.

Pray, what?

Sim.
She cannot in the house giue order,
For what is needfull to the childebed woman:
But comming forth a doores, proclaimes ith'strect
[Page 24]
Her minde to them within: what? what sir Dauus
Slight you me so? or deem'st me now at length
Such a fine easie propertie, thou maist
So plainly passe thy iugling tricks vpon me?
At least yet, it was circumspectly carried;
And shewd your awe, if'twere discouer'd.
Dau.

Troth his owne cunning cheats him now; not I.

Sim.
Did I not forewarne thee? threaten further
If thou should'st dare attempt this? hast thou yet
Stood in feare of't? hath it in ought preuail'd?
Think'st thou I doe beleeue this woman here
Hath had a childe now by my Pamphilus?
Dau.

I now finde his mistaking, know my course.

Sim.

Why speak'st thou not?

Dau.
What talke you of your thinking?
As if y'had had no notice of the matter?
Sim.

I notice?

Dau.
Why good sir, tell me I pray
Found you of your selfe that this was counter faited?
Sim.

I'm flouted.

Dau.
Come, come, it has bin told you:
How else a Gods name could you dreame of it?
Sim.

How? cause I well did know thy qualities.

Dau.

You thinke it then a thing of my direction.

Sim.

I, and I know tis.

Dau.
Truely sir I see
You throughly doe not know me.
Sim.

Not I, thee?

Dau.
But when I seeke to tell you any thing,
You streight suppose, I put some tricke vpon you.
Sim.

Tis false.

Dau.

So that I dare scarce speake to you.

Sim.

This one thing I am sure on; heer's no childe born.

Dau.
Are you so sure? yet sir notwithstanding
They streight will lay a childe before your doore.
I tell you on't aforehand, for your knowledge:
Least you should say hereafter, Dauus plots
And cunning manag'd all. I very faine
[Page 25]
Would worke my selfe out of your iealousie.
Sim.

How knowst it?

Dau.

I haue heard so and beleeue it.

Sim.
They are many & those grounded circumstances,
Which my coniectures build on. Nere before
Named she her selfe with childe by Pamphilus;
And that is false, vnlesse my iudgement erre:
But seeing now a wedding is preparing,
A midwife streight is sent for, by the maid,
Who was to bring a young borne childe with her.
Dau.
Vnlesse you see a childe, the wedding still
Stands fairely.
Sim.
I but, sirra tell me this,
When thou hadst found they plotted this among them, her?
Why told you not it streight to Pamphilus?
Dau.
Pray, but my selfe then who hath drawn him from
We know how fondly he did dote vpon her:
Now he desires a wife to liue withall.
In fine, trust me with this whole businesse:
Yet pursue you, to make the marriage vp;
And I doe hope the Gods will further it.
Sim.
Nay, get you in; there see you stay my comming:
And haue such things as need in readinesse.
Exit Dauus
He hath not drawne me yet to giue full credit
To this he saies; nor to conclude all true.
But I regard it little: the maine thing
I rest on, is the promise of my Sonne.
Ile now goe speake with Chremes, and desire
He would bestow his daughter: that obtaind,
Why should I linger? and not now this day
Finish the match a foot? doubtlesse my Sonne
Will stand t'his word: if not, what hinders me
Enter Chremes.
But I may force him? and in good time see
Where Chremes is, Chremes good time of day.

Scen. 3.

Chr.

OH! you are the man I sought for.

Sim.

And I you.

Chr.
Y'are come as I would wish: a many men
Haue press'd vnto me; who report as heard
From you, that on this very day your Sonne
Should wed my daughter. Now I come to see
Whether or you or they be from their wits?
Sim.
Pray list a while, and I will satisfie
This doubt: and withall acquaint you further
What suit I haue vnto you.
Chr.
I attend.
Say what you please.
Sim.
Chremes I request you
For loue of God; and for the vnfeigned friendship
Which in our youth begunne along together
Hath growne vp with our yeares; by the respect
You beare your onely child; for my Sonnes cause
Chiefe power of whose preseruing lies in you,
Lend me your furtherance in this businesse,
That the match this day meant may so go on.
Chr.
Oh! I pray craue it not, as if 't were fit
I should in this thing listen to your suit?
Thinke you me alterd from the man I was,
When late I made you promise? if 't may be
For both our welsares, take my daughter to you
But if hereby more harme then good will follow
To either of vs by it, then I pray
Cast for the common good: as if my daughter
Were yours, I father to your Pamphilus.
Sim.
Nay, that's my meaning Chremes: and I doe
Craue nothing of you but vpon such tearmes:
Nor would I aske it of you, if the case
It felse did not require it.
Chr.

Why, how is't?

Sim.

There's iarre betweene Glycerium and my sonne.

Chr.

I heare.

Sim.

So great, I hope't will sunder them.

Chr.

A tale.

Sim.

In very deede tis so

Chr.
Indeede
It will iust so (as I shall tell thee) proue;
The iarres of louers giue fresh life to loue.
Sim.
I, but I pray you let vs preuent that,
Whilst his loues flame is smotherd by abuse:
Before this harlots leaud designes, false teares
Reduce his sickly minde to passion,
Lets marrie 'hem.
Chremes
I haue good hope,
Faire wedlocke and a wiues experienc'd loue
Will eas'ly plucke him out of these feard ils.
Chr.
You thinke so: but I deeme't impossible
That either they will alwaies liue together,
Or I may indure their iarring.
Sim.
How doe you know,
Vnlesse you make a triall?
Chr.
But 'twere hard
For me to make such triall in my childe.
Sim.
Why, all the inconuenience which can happen
Should the worst fall (which I pray God forbid)
Were at the most a separation.
In counterpoise now weigh the benefits
That will insue, if my sonne proue reclaim'd:
First you restore t' your friend his sonne: your selfe
Gaine a fast sonne in law: your childe a husband.
Chr.
Why, if you thinke it so commodious,
For my part I will be no hindrance too't.
Sim.

I iustly alwaies held you my best friend.

Chr.

But as to that you said.

Sim.

What?

Chr.
Marrie how know you
There's now debate betweene 'hem.
Sim.
Dauus selfe
(who is their Counsels inward secretarie)
So told me; and withall aduisd me further
To haste the marriage with all speed I could.
Thinke you he would doe thus, but that he knowes.
[Page 28]
My sonne desires it likewise? you your selfe
Shall heate him. Ho there, one call Dauus forth.
Enter Dauus.
But loe, I see him comming out a doores.

Scen. 4.

Dau.

I Was a comming to you.

Sim.

What's the matter?

Dau.

Why is the bride not sent for? it growes late.

Sim.
Doe you now heare him? I will tell thee Dauus,
I lately had thee in some iealousie;
That thou didst take the course most seruants hold,
By seeking to delude me in the matter.
Of Pamphilus wanton louing.
Dau.

Who, I sit?

Sim.
I thought so: and for that I kept from you
A secret, Ile now vtter.
Dau.

What was that?

Sim.

Ile tell thee; for I almost now doe trust thee.

Dau.

At length you finde what seruant you haue of me.

Sim.

This was not to haue bin a marriage

Dau.

What, no.

Sim.
But I therefore counterfaited,
That I might feele your mindes.
Dau.

What ist you say?

Sim.

Iust as thou hear'st.

Dau.
La yee; I could neuer,
Thinke such a matter: oh fine cunning plot?
Sim.
List this; when hence I bad thee get thee in,
Chremes came fitly to me.
Dau.
Are we troe
Not lost for euer?
Sim.
I told all to him
Thou late toldst me.
Dau.

What heare I?

Sim.
Begg'd of him,
And scarce at length won him to giue his daughter.
Dau.

I am vndone.

Sim.

What saist?

Dau.

Excellently done.

Sim.

Now he's not backward.

Chre.
Ile straight get me home,
And leaue word all be had in readinesse!
[Page 29]
Thence giue you notice.
Sim.
Now I prechee Dauus,
Exit Chremes
Since thou alone hast wrought this marriage for vs—
Dau.

Yes sure, I was th'onely worker.

Sim.
Doe now
Indeauour further to reclaime my sonne.
Dau.

Yes truely, I will looke toot carefully.

Sim.

Thou maist now do it, whil'st his minde is vexed.

Dau.

Pray take no Care.

Sim.
Looke toot then:
But where now is he himselfe?
Dau.

Tis marle but he's at home.

Sim.
Ile too him then, and to himselfe deliuer
All I told thee.
Dau.
I am now iust nothing.
Exit Simo.
What hinders, but I fairely take my way
Directly to the mill, and fall a grinding?
Intreatie may doe nothing; I haue drawne
All things to such confusion: first deceiu'd
My Master: then haue headlong thrust his sonne
Vpon a marriage, that he look'd not for:
And cleane against his will: and this to day
To be made vp, by my alone procurement.
Pray marke th'end of cunning: had I sat still,
No euill in the world had happened.
Enter Pamphilus.
And see where he is. I am a meere dead man.
Would I had any meanes to breake my necke now.

Scen. 5.

Pam.

VVHere is the villaine has vndone me?

Dau.

I Am a plaine castaway.

Pam.
But I confesse
Tis iustly fall'n vpon me; since I am
So idle, vaine, and inconsiderate:
Ought I to trust my whole state to a slaue;
A prating slaue? I haue my follies hire:
But vnreueng'd he nere shall scape with it.
Dau.

Ile nere doubt tempest, if I scape this storme.

Pam.
But now what answer shall I make my father?
Shall I denie to marrie, who but now
Consented to it? with what impudence
May I dare doe it? neither with my selfe
Know I what course to take.
Dau.
Troth nor I, neither
But I am canuassing my braines about it.
Ile tell him Ile forthwith finde out some meanes
A little to put off his threatned vengeance.
Pam.

Oh—

Dau.

I'm spide.

Pam.
Oh, you sir, honest fellow
Come neerer: what saist to me? doe you see now
How I am puzled through your goodly counsell?
Dau.

Ile presently make all cleare.

Pam.

Thou make cleare?

Dau.

Pamphilus indeede I will.

Pam.

I, as erewhile.

Dau.

Nay, I hope better

Pam.
Trust thee pillorie?
Or thou make good a case perplexed, lost?
See what a suresby I haue trusted too;
Who from a quiet state I late stood in,
This day hast thrust me on a mariage:
Did I not tell thee it would thus fall out?
Dau.

You did.

Pam.

What hast then deserued

Dau.
Hanging.
A little yet let me collect my selfe.
Ile streight finde out some helpe.
Pam.
Oh me accurst:
Why want I time to plague thee as I would?
This scarce will serue my danger to preuent,
Permits me not pursue thy punishment.
Exeunt Pamphilus and Dauus.

Act. 4.

Scen. 1.

Enter Charinus at one doore; Pamphilus and Dauus at another.
Cha.
MAy't be beleeu'd? or may it once be talk'd on?
That any should be so selfe-wild peruerse,
As to take pleasure in anothers harmes?
Or thinke his owne gaine sweeter, if procur'd
By others disaduantage? oh good God!
Is this a brood of men? Men let them be;
Worst are they of the generation.
They shew a little tricksey modestie,
Not to denie a craued curtesie:
But when performance comes, they then declare
(Nature will shew it selfe) what men they are.
They are asham'd a little, but in triall
Their temper bursteth forth to flat deniall.
Then shall you heare their shamelesse Oratorie—
Pray who are you? are what at least to me.
Why yeeld my loue to you? good sir attend,
I am vnto my selfe the neerest friend.
Touch them with faith and troth, they blush no whit:
So that when no constraint inforceth it,
They make some scruple; when it comes to th' pinch,
Then at the proofe your hollow friend doth flinch.
But what's my best course? shall I to him streight,
And with him this his wrong expostulate?
And ply him with harsh tearmes? but some may say,
What good shall I procure my selfe that way?
Yes much: I shall both chafe him, and giue ease
To my grieu'd heart.
Pam.
Charinus, lesse God please
[Page 32]
To succour vs, I haue both thee and me
Against my will vndone vnwarily.
Cha.
Vnwarily: is that word now thought on?
Y'haue broke your promisd faith.
Pam.

As how, I pray?

Cha.

Seeke you againe with faire words to abuse me?

Pam.

What meanes this?

Cha.
After I said I lou'd her,
You must needes like her too. Oh me accurst,
That scantled out your dealing by mine owne!
Pam.

You are mistaken.

Cha.
Seem'd your content not full,
Vnlesse you fool'd, and with false hope traind on
A wretched louer? much good doe ye; take her.
Pam.
I take her? oh I perceiue thou knowst not
In what a gulfe of miserie I am plung'd:
What pecke of troubles this my torturer
Hath brought me to, by harkning to his counsell.
Cha.

No marle: he takes his president from you.

Pam.
You would not say this, if you fully knew
Or me, or her I'ue set my fancie on.
Cha.
Yes, I doe know; you were at hot high words
Late with your father; and haue angred him,
Because he cannot make you marrie her.
Pam.
Nay, which discouers thou lesse knowst my griefe,
This mariage neuer was prepar'd for me:
Nor did now any force me to a wife.
Cha.

I know't your owne will forc'd you.

Pam.

Tarrie, yet thou knowst not all.

Cha.

I know thou'st marrie her.

Pam.
Why doe you thus torment me? heare but this
He neuer ceased to be vrgent on me,
That I should tell my father I would marrie:
To intreat, perswade, till he had drawne me to it.
Cha.

What man did this.

Pam.

This Dauus.

Cha.

Dauus?

Pam.

Dauus brings all things out of square.

Cha.

What the inducement?

Pam.
I nothing know, except this one thing onely,
That I well see the Gods are much displeased
With me, for listning to him.
Cha

Did you thus Dauus?

Dau.

I did.

Cha.
Ha, what faist thou caitife?
The gods giue thee a death futing thy doings.
Sir tha, but tell me; say that all his foes
Had laid their heads together for a plot
To yoake him to a wife, what stratagem
Could they haue fram'd more speeding then this was?
Dau.

I am deceiu'd, but faint not.

Cha.

I, I know't.

Dau.
It thriu'd not this way, weele attempt some other.
Vnlesse you iudge because at first we sped not,
There's no meanes iest vs to salue vp the mischiefe.
Pam.
Nay more, I well beleeue if thou watch for it,
Of one thoult make me out a double marriage.
Dau.
I (Pamphilus) by reason of my bondage
Owe you thus much: to doe, goe, night and day
To indeauour all I may, with my liues hazard,
For your aduantage: it is yet your part
To beare with me, if things come crosse my hopes:
My plots faile; yet I vse all carefulnesse:
Your selfe else frame things wiseher, discharge me.
Pam.

I craue thou leaue me in that state thou foūdst me;

Dau.

I will.

Pam.

But't must be streight.

Dau.
How now! hist, stay.
Glyceriums doore did creake.
Pam.

That's nought to thee.

Dau.

I am a forging.

Pam.

How, is't now to forge.

Dau.

But I will giu't you fashion'd presently.

Scen. 2.

Enter Mysis.
Mys.
VVHere ere he be, Ile finde your Pamphilus
And bring him with me streight;
[Page 34]
Meane while good heart vex not your selfe.
Pam.

Mysis?

Mys.
What's the matter?
Oh, was't you Pamphilus? you are well met.
Pam.

What newes?

Mys.
My Mistresse praies you of all loue
To come to her: she longs to speake with you.
Pam.
I am a sorlorne wretch: the mischiefe spreads.
That she and I should both be thus perplexed
By meanes of thee? for I am therefore sent for
Because she heares my wedding is prepared.
Cha.
From which how easily had you now bin quiet,
Had he bin quiet?
Dau.
Yes, so, goe on:
If of himselfe he be not vexd inough,
Vrge him on further.
Mys.
I indeede tis that
Does now afflict her.
Pam.
Mysis, I doe sweare
By all the Gods vnto thee, I will neuer
Forsake her: no, though I were sure thereby
To vndergoe the whole worlds enmitie.
I did desire her; haue obtaind her; see
That we both iumpe in mindes, and qualitie.
Farewell to all that seeke vs two to seuer:
But death none takes her from me.
Cha.

I recouer

Pam.
I doe desire (if't may be so borne vp)
My father should not thinke I am the cause
The marriage holds not: if that cannot be,
Ile take the next course: that he may perceiue
I crosse it. What kinde of man doost thinke me.
Cha.

Faith euery way as wretched as my selfe.

Dau.

I cast for helpe.

Cha.

I, thou hast a good heart.

Dau.

And will effect it for you.

Pam.

'T must be now.

Dau.

Why, I ha't now.

Cha.

What is it?

Dau.
You mistake;
It is for him, not you.
Cha.

I am content.

Pam.

Say, what wilt doe?

Dau.
I haue scarce day enough
[Page 35]
To finish it I feare: and thinke me not
At leasure therefore now, to tell you it.
But get y'hence both; you, now but hinder me.
Pam.

Ile visite her here.

Dau.

And you, whither you?

Exit Pamphilus.
Cha.

Wilt thou I tell thee truth?

Dau.

Nay see, he makes a prologue to a tale.

Cha.

What doost for me?

Dau.
Oh impudent! is't not inough I giue thee
Some houres; by putting off his marriage?
Cha.

Yet Dauus —

Dau.

Well, what?

Cha.

That I may haue her. —

Dau.

Ridiculous!

Cha.
Yet if thou canst do ought —
Come home to me.
Dau.
To what end should I come?
I nothing haue to helpe thee.
Cha.

I but if—

Dau.

Well, I will come.

Cha.
If thou canst thinke of ought
Ile be at home.
Exit Charinus.
Dau.
Mysis, while I goe hence
Stay here a little for me.
Mys.

To what end?

Dau.

Tis needfull now, thou do so.

Mys.

Make hast then.

Dau.

I will be here straightway againe with thee.

Exit Dauus.

Scen. 3.

Mys.
THat no one holdeth any thing in certaine?
Your helpe good Gods! I thought this Pamphilus
Had bin my Mistresses firme, chiefest good;
Tooke him to be her friend, her louer, husband;
Ready at all essaies to stand to her:
And yet what griefe sustaines she now through him?
Hence sure more ill she reapes then good from him.
But here comes Dauus.
Enter Dauus.
What's that prithee friend? the childe?
Whither doost beare it?

Scen. 4.

Dau.
MYsis, now I
neede thy readrest memorie and wit
In this I goe about.
Mys.

What art to doe?

Dau.
Take the childe from me streight, & lay it downe
Before our doore.
Mys.

What on the bare ground pray?

Dau.
Take a few strewings from the altar there—
And lay 'hem vnder.
Mys.

Why doost not thou thy selfe?

Dau.
That if perchance my Master vrge my oath
Twas not my doing, I may safely sweare it.
Mys.
I vnderstand you: but pray tell me whence
This now new tender conscience comes vpon thee?
Dau.
Stir you more quicke; that you may further know
What tis I haue in hand. Oh Iupiter!
Enter Chremes.
Mys.

What?

Dau.

The father of the bride is come on vs. leaue the course which I at first intended.

Mys.

I know not what you talke on?

Dau.
My selfe too
Will make as if I came from the right hand.
Haue you a care now as occasion serues
You marke my talke, and suit your words to mine.
Mys.
I vnderstand nothing you goe about:
But if in any thing you neede my helpe
Or see more then my selfe, I here will stay,
That I may be no hindrance in your way.
Exit Dauus.

Scen. 5.

Chr.
HAuing prepared all in readinesse
Was needfull to my Daughters marriage,
I now returne to will 'hem send for her.
But what is here? so helpe me God, a childe!
Weman, laid you this childe here?
Mys.

Where is hee?

Chr.

Doost not answer me?

Mys.
Woes me, out of sight.
Alas, Dauus has left me: and is gone.
Enter Dauus.
Dau.
Faith of the Gods!
What coile's yond'at the Market?
What throng of wranglers braule there? and beside
Corne beares excessiue price. I know not now
What other words to vse.
Mys.
For Gods sake man
Why left you me alone here?
Dau.
Hoida what
Denice is this? you Mysis, whence this childe?
Or who here laid it?
Mys.
Are you in your wits,
To aske me that?
Dau.
Of whom else should I aske,
That see none else here?
Chr.

I marle whence it is.

Dau.

Wo [...] tell me.

Mys.

Au!

Dau.

Come here, o'my right side.

Mys.

Th'art mad did not your selfe?

Dau.
Looke thou beware
Thou vtter not a word, but what I aske thee.
Mys.

D'yee threaten me?

Dau.

From whence is it? speake out.

Mys.

From you.

Dau.
Ha, ha, he, ist newes, if women
Of your condition doe grow impudent?
Chr.

This maid belongs to th' Andrian, as I thinke.

Dau.
Seeme we such fitting persons to you, troe
That you should play on vs?
Chr.

I came in time.

Dau.
Therefore with speede take you the childe away
Ilence from our doore: yet stay, see thou stirre not
One inch out of this place.
Mys.
The Gods confound thee
That me poore woman frightst thus.
Dau.

Do I speake to thee, or not?

Mys.

What would you?

Dau.
Askt thou still?
Say, tell me whose childe tis thou hast laid here?
Mys.

Doe not you know?

Dau.
Talke not of what I know,
[Page 38]
But tell me that I aske.
Mys.

Tis of your house

Dau.

Whose, of vs?

Mys.

Pamphilus.

Dau.

Ha, what, Pamphilus?

Mys.

Ist not?

Chr.

I alwaies rightly shunn'd this match.

Dau.

Oh notable vile practise!

Mys.

Why exclaimst thou?

Dau.
Which childe did not my selfe see yesternight
Brought late to you?
Mys.

Oh most audacious fellow

Dau.

Tis truth, I saw Canthara thicke stuft out.

Mys.
I thanke the Gods yet, that some Citie wiues
Were present at the labour.
Dau.
She not knowes
Him (I assure thee) for whose cause she plots this.
She thinkes if Chremes see a child laid here,
Heel'e not bestow his daughter: yes of truth,
For this the rather.
Chr.

Faith but he will not though.

Dau.
Now therefore, for thy knowledge, take it hence
Or I will tumble it in the high way;
And further lay thee by it in the kennell.
Mys.

Thou certainly art drunke.

Dau.
One cunning pranke
Treads on anothers heele. I heare it whisperd
She's a free-borne Athenian.
Chre.

Ha!

Dau.
And that
He shall be fore'd by law to marrie her.
Mys.

Why sir I pray you, i [...] she not free-borne?

Chr.
I had almost vnawares iested my selfe
Into a dangerous mischiefe.
Dau.
Who talkes here?
Oh Chremes you are come in happy time.
Pray listen sir—
Chr.

I haue heard all already.

Dau.

How all say you?

Chr.

I, from the beginning all.

Dau.
Haue you pray heard it? see their villanies!
Tis fit she were hence hurried to the racke.
This is the man I talk'd of: doe not thinke
You play your trickes on Dauus.
Mys.
Oh wretched mee!
Indeede (good old Sir) I haue spoke no falshood.
Chr.
I know all to the full: but is your Master
Simo within?
Dau.

Yes Sir.

Exit Chremes.
Mys.
Roague hand me not.
Troth if Glycerium know not of all this—
Dau.
Attend you foole, thou knowst not what is done:
This the brides father: by no other meanes
Could he be made to know what we would haue him.
Mys.

Why then you should haue told me on't.

Dau.
Doest thinke
There no great difference, when a thing is carried
The naturall way, and when premeditate.

Scen. 6.

Enter Crits.
Crit.
TIs told me Chrysis dwelt in this same street:
Who rather chose heere leaudly to grow rich,
Then in her Countrie honestly liue poore:
She dead, the Law hath cast her state on me.
But now I see some I may question:
God saue you.
Mys.
Oh good God whom doe I see?
Is not this Crito, Chrisis Cozen German?
Tis he.
Crit.

Oh Mysis! you are well met.

Mys.
The Gods
Prosper you Crito.
Crit.

Chrysis then is—well?

Mys.

Yes truely she has left vs, to th'wide world.

Crit.

And you, what shift d'ye make? any thing well?

Mys.
We? faith e'en according to the prouerbe;
Liue as we can, since cannot as we would.
Crit.

Glycerium—what, hath she yet sound her parents?

Mys.

I would she had.

Crit.
What not yet? I came hither
In an vnluckie houre: for had I knowne it
I sure would ne'er haue stirr'd a soot this way.
She alwaies was both said and deem'd her sister
[Page 40]
And holds all that was hers: now for me their
To follow law suits being here a stranger,
How easie and commodious 'tmay be
Rife precedents of other men do warne me.
Besides, I iudge by this she has got her selfe
Some friend and patron: for when she came thence
She had well-neere attained to ripe yeeres
Men will cry out I am a sycophant,
A begger laying claime to others right:
Withall, my selfe list not impouerish her:
Mys.

Good Crito, you still hood your ancient course.

Crit.
Bring me vnto her, since I am come hither,
I may at least yet see her.
Mys.

Yes I will.

Dau

Ile follow yet the old man shall not see me.

Mysis and Crito enter Glyceriums house and Dauus followes them.

Act. 5.

Scen. 1.

Enter Chremes and Simo out of Simoes house.
Chr.
SImo enough, I haue enough tride your friend ship:
Venturd sufficient hazard, pray now leaue
Intreating. Whilst I seeke to pleasure you
I almost trisled my childes lise away.
Sim.
Nay, but I earnestly begge and craue Chremes,
This your good turne now late begun in words
You would in deedes make vp.
Chr
Note how vniust
You grow, through earnestnesse to worke your aimes:
You nor consider bounds in curtesies,
Nor yet what tis you crame: for if you did,
Yould cease to load me with these iniuries.
Sim.

What iniuties?

Chr.
Oh, doe you question them?
[Page 41]
You wrought me to bestow my onely childe
To one intangled in a strangers loue:
A wilde yong youth abhorring marriage:
To most sure discord, marriage as insure;
That by her griefe and sorrow I might phisicke
Your riotous sonne: this y'obtain'd: I went on,
Whil'st things permitted: now that the case not brooks it,
You must brooke my deniall. Tis affirmd
This stranger is fice borne; hath a childe by him:
Leaue troubling vs.
Sim.
By all the Gods I beg
You would not bend your minde to trust these people,
Whose best aduantage tis, to make him worst.
These things are onely seign'd and fashioned
To dash the wedding: take away the cause
Moues them to this, they'll straight way leaue contrining.
Chr.
Y'are wide: My selfe saw a maide scolding here
With Dauus.
Sim.

I know't.

Chr.
I but this was done
In good sad earnest; neither of them both
Knowing that I was neere.
Sim.
I doe beleeue it
And Dauus late told me it would be so.
I know not how I did forget to tell you,
As I had meant.

Scen. 2.

Enter. Dauus out of Glyceriums house.
Dau.

I Will you now rest quiet —

Chr.

See, here's Dauus.

Sim.

Whence comes he?

Dau.

Through my furthrance and this guests.

Sim.

What new mischiefe?

Dau.

Man, time, comming fitter, I neuer saw.

Sim.

Who ist, the roague so praises?

Dau.

All's now secure.

Sim.

Cease I to speake to him?

Dau

My Master! what's my course?

Dau.
Oh Simo, oh our Chremes,
All things are now in readinesse within.
Sim.

Th'hast lookt too 't well.

Dau.

When you please, send for her.

Sim.
Tis very well; but that course now here failes vs.
But may I know, what thou hadst there to doe?
Dau.

I Sir.

Sim.

I, Sir.

Dau.

Me meane you?

Sim.

Yes, meane thee.

Dau.

I went in but now —

Sim.

As if I ask 't thee, when?

Dau.

Together with your sonne.

Sim.
Is my sonne there?
I wretch am set o'th racke. Diddst not hangman
Tell me, they were at deadly oddes together?
Dau.

They are.

Sim.

What does he there then?

Chr.
Hee? what thinkst?
I warrant railing at her.
Dau.
Nay but Chremes
Ile tell you now of a strange accident.
I know not what old man is newly come,
Note him, a man both confident and wise,
When you shall see him, you'l much value him.
A graue austerity rests on his face;
And in his words dwell faith.
Sim.

What newes bring'st thou?

Dau.

No other, then I heard that man report.

Sim.

And what doo's he report?

Dau.
That he doo's know
Glycerium here, a free Athenian borne.
Sim.

Hoe Dromo, Dromo.

Enter Dromo. Sim. Dromo.
Dro.

What's the matter?

Dau.

Heare me.

Sim.

If thou speakest one word more—Dromo.

Dau.

I doe beseech you heare me.

Dro.

What would y'haue?

Sim.

Hoist in this fellow here, hence speedily.

Dro.

Whom?

Sim.

Dauus.

Dau.

Why?

Sim.
For it is my pleasure.
Away with him I say.
Dau.

What haue I done?

Sim.

In with him.

Dau.
If you shall finde I haue ly'de
In any thing, then kill me.
Sim.
Ile heare nothing.
Ile streightway put thee into motion.
Dau.

Though that I said the truth?

Sim.
Though — see you
Ile be kept bound; and heare you, bound all foure.
Ile shew thee, what tis to abuse a Master,
If I but liue this day: and teach the other
What tis to crosse a father.
Exit Dromo with Dauus.
Chr.

Oh, I pray you rage not so much.

Sim.
Chremes doost not, seeing
How vnkindely he deales with me, pittie me?
That I should toyle and care for such a sonne?
But Pamphitus you, come you out Pamphilus:
Doth any shame possesse thee?

Scen. 3.

Enter Pamphilus.
Pam.
VVHo cald me?
I am lost, it is my father.
Sim.
What saist now?
Thou of all—
Chr.
Oh, rather goe to th'point man:
And spare ill speaking.
Sim.
As if any thing
Can be spoke ill inough of such a one?
But Sirrha say, is your Glycerium now
Free borne of Athens?
Pam.

So they say of her.

Sim.
Doe they say so? Monstrous audaciousnesse!
Considers he his words? grieues at his deedes?
Or shewes his colour any note of shame?
That he should be of such deboshed manners,
[Page 44]
That cleare beyond all precedent of freemen,
Against the forme of law, in opposition
Of me his father, he should bend to haue her
Though 't reach to th'highest pitch of infamie?
Pam.

Oh me most wretched!

Sim.
Doost thou now at length
Perceiue that Pamphilus? that word of old
Of old that word then truely sitted thee,
When first thou setst thy heart to please thy selfe;
Though at what rate soeuer compassed.
But wherefore doe I thus? why yex my soule?
Why waste my selfe away? why doe I grieue
My old and fainting age with his youths follies?
Shall I indure the pennance of his faultings?
No, let him haue her; I, God speede him well;
Yes, let him keepe with her.
Pam

Oh my father—

Sim.
Why call'st me father? as if thou hadst neede
Of me to be thy father? a house, wise,
Children are had maugre thy fathers will:
Fellowes are hir'd shall beare her vp freeborne.
Y'haue got the mast'tie.
Pam.
I beseech you father,
May I haue leaue to vtter a few words.
Sim.

What wilt say to me?

Chr.

Vet heare him Simo.

Sim.

I heare him: what ist Chremes I should heare him.

Chr.

Permit him tell you.

Sim.

Well, tell he: I permit

Pam
I doe confesse I loue this woman here
If it be faultie, I confesse that too.
Further I yeeld me vp to your full pleasure,
Lay any taske, any command vpon me.
Will you I marrie that, leaue this? I will
Indure it as I may. But this one thing
I begge of you, that you would not imagine
That this old man is by my meanes brought in
Suffer me cleare my selfe, and fetch him hither
[Page 45]
Into your presence
Sim.

Fetch him.

Pam.

Let mee pray.

Chr.

He craues but reason, grant it.

Pam.

I pray sir.

Exit Pamphilus.
Sim.
Well, I doe: I wish Chremes ought be proued,
So that I finde he doos not iuggle with me.
Chr.
Sleight accusation in a sonnes offence
Sufficeth for a father.

Scen. 4.

Enter Crito and Pamphilus.
Crit.
CEase to intreat.
Each of the reasons you haue vs'd, perswade me
To your request? either your owne selfe cause,
Or for it is a truth, or cause I wish
All furtherance vnto Gl ceriuns.
Chr.
Doe I not see Crito of Andros there?
Tis he. Crito you are here well met:
You haue bin long a stranger here: what chance
Hath brought you now to Athens.
Crit.
An occasion.
But is this Simo?
Chr.

Yes.

Sim
Aske you for me?
D'yee heare sir, is it you that doe affirme
Clycerium to be free borne of Athens?
Crit.

Are you one, doe denie it?

Sim.
Is 't eene so?
Come you so well prepared too?
Crit.

Wherefore?

Sim.
Doost thou vse question? thinkst thou to escape
Fairely thus of with 't? seekest thou to worke on
The easie natures of vnguided youth,
Peruerting our well nurtur'd children?
Winning their hearts with fawning promises.
And this, in Athens.
Crit.

Are you in your wits?

Sim.

And harlot-loues knit'st vp in marriage?

Chr.
If you knew this man Simo thoroughly,
You would not iudge so: he is an honest man.
Sim.
An honest man; to come iumpe in th'instant
Of dosing hands, and nere seene here before?
Chremes, may such a man be credited?
Pam.
If I not doubted to displease my father
I easily could prompt him to that point.
Sim.

Cauelling sycophant —

Crit.

How?

Chr.
Forbeare Crito;
It is his temper.
Crit.
Let him regard his temper:
If he will vent his pleasure vpon me
He shall be forc'd to heare what will displease him.
Trouble I his matters? or yet care for'hem?
Cannot you beare your owne ils patiently?
For my part, it may instantly be knowne
Whether 't be false or true, you heard me say
A certaine man of Athens, now long since
Shiprackt at sea, was cast on Andros Isle;
And with him this Glycerium, then a childe:
He being poore had harbour at the house
Of Chr si, father.
Sim.

He begins a tale.

Chr.

Pray giue him leaue.

Crit.
Does he disturbe me thus?
He that entertaind him was my kinsman:
Of him I then heard, that this shipwrack'd man
Was an Ithenian.
Chr

Pray, what was his name?

Crit.

His name so sodainly? Pha—Pha-nia.

Chr.

Oh, my heart!

Crit.
Yes sure, I thinke twas Phania.
This I well know, he nam'd himselfe of Ramnes.
Chr.

O Iupiter!

Crit.
A many moe in Andros
Then heard it.
Chr.
I beseech the Gods, it proue
According to my hopes: but pray you Crito,
What said he of the childe, that twas his owne?
Crit.

No.

Chr.

Whose then?

Crit.

The daughter of his brother.

Chr.

Tis certainly mine owne.

Crit.

What doe you say?

Sim.

What say you?

Pam.

Pamphilus giue heed to this.

Sim.

Why thinke you so?

Chr.

That Phania was my brother.

Sim.

I knew him well, and know that he was so.

Chr.
He flying hence to auoid the rage of warre,
Trauaild toward Asia in pursuit of me;
And feard withall to leaue the childe behinde:
Since whence, now I heare the first newes of him.
Pam.
I scarcely feele my selfe: my mind's so tost
Twixt feare, and hope, and ioy, and wondring,
At this so great, so sodaine happinesse.
Sim.

In truth I much reioyce, she is found yours.

Pam.
I doe beleeue you father.
Chr.
But there rests
One scruple yet, which somewhat troubles me.
Pa.

You are worthy now of hate, with these your scruples

Crit.

What is 't?

Chr.

The name agrees not.

Crit.
She had sure
Another being young.
Chr.
What was it Crito?
Canst thou remember?
Crit.

I am thinking on 't.

Pam.
Shall I permit his tardie memorie
To slacken my ioyes current, being able
Herein to giue my selfe a remedie?
No, I will not: harke you hither Chremes;
The name you doubt of is Pasibula.
Crit.

That's it.

Chr.

Tis right.

Pam.
I heard it of her selfe
At least a thousand times.
Sim.
I beleeue Chremes,
You thinke we all ioy at it.
Chr.
As may the Gods
Assist me, I doe thinke so.
Pam.

What rests father?

Sim.

The case it selfe now reconcileth vs.

Pam.
Oh my most louing father and you Chromes
Change nothing in the wife I now possesse?
Chr.

The cause is iust, your father so agreeing.

Pam.

Thus much—

Sim.

Yea marrie—

Chr.

Her dowre Pamphilus I make ten talents.

Pam.

I accept of it.

Chr.
Ile forthwith see my daughter: Crito, pray
Goe with me; for I thinke she knowes me not.
Sim.

Why cause you not your wife be brought to vs?

Pam.

You warne me well, Ile eene giue Dauus charg out.

Sim.

He cannot now effect it.

Pam.

Pray why so?

Sim.

Has more and greater charge vpon himselfe.

Pam.

What?

Sim.

Hee's bound.

Pam

Hee's not bound rightly father.

Sim.

No; I did will him be bound otherwise.

Pam.

Pray order he be loosd.

Sim.

Well, be it so.

Pam.

But good sir, haste.

Sim.

Ile in and see it done.

Exit Simo.
Pam.

Oh happie, oh this prosperous blessed day.

Scen. 5.

Enter Charinus.
Cha.

I Come to see how Pampirlus speeds, and loe.

Pam.
Some man perhaps may think I feed on dreames:
But now I please to thinke all reall truth.
I on this ground iudge the Gods liues eternall,
Because heir pleasure's certainly their owne
For I my selfe haue gaind immortall state,
If with this ioy no griefe ere intermeddle
But who might I now wish especially
Here at this time, to tell the tidings to?
Enter Dauus.
Chae.

What ioy is that he talkes of?

Pam.
I now see
Dauus our man: there is no liuing one,
I rather would haue had. I know he wil?
Full truely ioy in the true ioy I feele.

Scen. 6.

Dau.

VVhere is this Pamphilus trow?

Pam.

Dauus Dau. Who's that?

Pam.

Tis I.

Dau.

Oh Pamphilus!

Pam.

Thou knowest not what has befall'n me?

Dau.

True: yet know, what has chanc'd me.

Pam.

And so do I.

Dau.
Why this happes iust oth'fashion,
That you my ill lucke learne, ere I your good.
Pam.

Glycerium hath found out her parents.

Dau.

Good.

Cha.

How's that?

Pam.

Her father our chiefe friend.

Dau.

Who ist?

Pam.

Chremes.

Dau.

Oh braue!

Pam.
Nor now is any stay,
But that I take her home forthwith to wife.
Cha.

Dreames he trow, of things he desires waking?

Pam.

Now Dauus, for the child?

Dau.
Leaue of I pray:
The gods sure purpose him their minion.
Cha.
I am a made man, if these things be true
Ile speake to'hem.
Pam.
O Charinus,
Thou com'st in a fit time.
Cha.

Oh happie newes.

Pam.

Hast heard ont then?

Cha.
Yes all: pray thinke on me,
Now in the height of your felicitie.
Chremes is now your owne, and I do know
Hele yeeld to any thing you motion.
Pam.
I mind it. But 't would now be ouer-long
Heere to attend, till he come forth to vs.
Follow me in; he's with Glycerium.
Get you home Dauus, hasten; and procure
Some that may beare her hence: why stand'st thou so?
Why staiest thou still?
Dau.

Sir Ile go presently.

Exeunt Pamphilus, and Charinus. Epilogue.

Epilogue by Dauus. Addition, by way of paraphrase on Dauus last words in the Scene.

I Note you sit with kind attention bent,
As pleasd with what hath passed; and expect
The further issue of our argument;
And on the marrage now your minds reflect.
We pray you cease such expectation;
For we haue done: the bride you do conceiue
But newly brought to bed; night comming on
Women shall beare her hence, at Sionoes leaue.
Chremes hs younger daughter Philumen
Charinus gets, at sure of Pamphilus.
Crito of Andros, who has beene the meane
The long lost child should be discouerd thus,
What course he now shall take to obtaine his right
In Chrysis goods, I here not mention will;
Nor in leede can I: I haue no insight
In law points, triable at Mars his hill.
Yet knowing Chremes nature tractable,
Seeing withall he hath dealt liberally
In portion, so that amph lus is able
To beare the losse, though-common honestic
Did not exact it I not doubt they will
Vse the poore stranger well. Me you haue scene heis
Venture to binding, grinding in the Mill:
That fell on me, this was approaching neare.
I purpose further in their ioy to sue
My present freedome: Pamphilus loue I haue,
Glyceriums also; both I thinke of due:
My Masters chase is off I onely craue
Your furtherance in the matter; which if gaind,
I haue good hope: for I haue heard it sed
By men ith' Periclaean lawes well read,
If I make you my friends, my sute's obtaind:
For they haue told me my discharge now stands
not vpon whispering voyces; but clapt hands.
Finis Andriae.

THE EVNVCH.

The ARGVMENT.

A Citizen of Athens dwelling at Su­nium a port-towne of Attica hauing two children, Chremes a Sonne, and Pamphila a daughter, had his daughter stolne away by Pyrats when she was of such tender age that she could onely tell her owne and parents names. After this the Athe­nian died. The Pyrats sold the child to a Mer­chant of Rhodes, who gaue her to a Strumpet which he loued. This Harlot had a daughter called Thais, somewhat elder then Pamphila: Which children she so brought vp together, that all men of Rhodes did repute them for Sisters. Thais in processe of time tooke to her mothers trade of life; and yeel­ding vp her selfe to a strangers deuotion, was by him caried to Athens; where he dying left her good means. He thus dead, she was taken vp by one Thraso asouldier: he also hauing a while accompanied her, had occasion of trauaile into Caria. Meane while [Page 51]the mother of Thais died at Rhodes: Her goods fell to a brother, who (with them) exposed to sale the abouenamed Pamphila, iust vpon the time where­in the soldier passed that way. Her youth and beau­tie induced the souldier (ignorant of all passages) to buy her, as a fit gift to bestow on Thais at his re­turne to Athens. But she before that time (whores do not liue in expectation, nor vpon the meanes of one man onely) had intertaind the loue of one Phaedria a young gentleman, sonne of an ancient Athenian Citizen. She also had by this time gained some inkling of the parentage of Pamphila, and that one Chremes a genteleman of Athens was in good likelihood uaturall brother to the maiden: for better discouery whereof, she had had conference with him (a loofe off) touching the matter. The souldier returnes to Athens bringing Pamphila along with him, (her maiden-head is questiond by Terence, Act. 1. Sen. 2. in these words etiamne amplius? To auoid matter vnfitting for the grace of the Comedie, but she was (beyond any contrarie supposable coniecture) a maiden: for a child might sillip this souldier out of his courage; and foolerie was all the allurement he could vse to her) and be­ing thus returned, he finds Phaedria entred into Thais her bookes: out of which if he be not cleane wiped, Pamphila is not for her, as the souldier affir­meth. Terence hath set out this Thais as none of the [Page 52]worst of that course of life; and withall of good discretion in her cariage. A Dilemma is now put vpon her; loue and consideration are the two hornes: she must venture the goring by one of them. Loue pleades first, and this is naturall to her bloud; and Phaedria besides deserues it. I but hee may be ten­dered a wife; his appetite cloyd his father workeher displeasure. Resolute loue in spite of these premisses hath downe the cō [...]lusion On the other side a reputed sister, that sister hath good friends, those friends able to strengthen her vnsetled fortunes; if by her meanes the one be restored to the other: Thus pleades Consideration. Wisely therefore she keepes the middle way for barring Phaedria her company for abrace of dayes (telling him why) she aimes to gull the souldier of the wench by this courtesie; and then to recall Phaedria to his former contentment. Phaedria assents, leaues the Citie. giues withall charge to Parmeno his fathers man, for bringing an Eunuch to Thais in his absence: Phaedria gone, Thraso also sends Pamphila to her by Gnato a Pa­rasite. In the passing of the maiden thither, Chaerea a younger brother of Phaedria spies her, falles in loue with her, dogges her, by accident looseth her, chafes with himself at it: then to Parmeno comming vpon him, discouers his mind and whereto caried. Parmeno informes him of an Eunuch by his brother Phaedria sent, and by him forthwith to be conueied [Page 53]to the very house where the maid abideth. So that by shifting cloathes with the Eunuch he may vn­discouered be brought to her; the Eunuch nor hee having euer before beene seene by Thais or any of her family Chaerea followes the aduise, is brought thither, rauisheth the maiden. Much coyle hence ariseth, Pamphila at length being found to bee free­borne, Chaerea marries her; Thais is taken into pro­tection by the father of the two brothers. The Souldier for mirth and cost sparing is admit­ted among them, by Gnatoes perswa­sion, with the consent of Phaedria.

The Actors and their Characters.

SEnex, an old man not named by Terence; father of two sonnes: himselfe being retired to his Countrey Grange, at his returne to the Citie findes that either of his sonnes haue playd Rex in his absence: his nature suddaine and fiery.

Phaedria one of his sonnes, a young man intangled with the loue of a harlot: well qualified and stragling with his faultie inclination.

Chaerea. Another of the old mans sonnes, an early Cocke of the game: the heate of his youthfull bloud vio­lently caries him on to a rape: either he was passed an Ephebus, or Grammarians mistaken in the word, or else Terence hath beene very bold in the part of Chaerea lustfull, heady, head-strong.

Parmeno, Scruant of the family, wise and discreat while he giues aduise; when he vndertakes imployment diligent and faithfull.

Thais, A strumpet of a sweete and pleasing disposition: gracefull in language, in maners free and indiffe­rently modest. Terence (in a word) hath striued in her person to set out a tollerable harlot.

Pythias maid to Thais. A busie pratling house-wife.

Dorias another of her maides, of cleane contrary tem­per: an idle meacocke.

Chremes, A young countrie gentleman. Clownish of maners, very timerous and fearefull.

Sophrona an old nurse, she hardly huddles ouer the stage: And all the newes I heare frō her, is this one word, Moueo.

Amipho a young gentleman of good demeanor, familiar.

Thraso. Gnato. These I couple: for what good Mus [...]que makes a trumpet without its ecco. The first a Parat, th'other a fellow clawing his poll. The souldier a bragging sot, of necessitie therefore a Cow­heard; the other a Clawbacke rubbing his proud itch. The Parasite thus farre wise, that he can make vse of his foolish Master: for he pickes matter of mirth and meanes out of him.

Sanga a Cooke, by consequence inclining to sawcinesse. Malepert.

The Prologue.

IF there be any who their studies frame
To giue good men contentment, displease none;
In their faire rancke our Poet files his name:
If any further hold opinion,
That harsh vnciuill tearmes to procure shame
To any man, be here vngently sowne;
Let him thinke so a Gods name: but with all
He lets them know, what euer words do passe,
Do not on such as free inuectiues fall;
But forc'd replies of him first wronged was:
To vtter the mans name not neede I shall:
One, shrewdly tossed, leaudly glossed has
Many Greeke comedies: and by that meane
In that tongue good, in Latine marred cleane.
'Twas he who but ere-while presented you
Menanders Phas [...]. to name it is inough:
But in the Treasure, there you saw him shew
rare work emanship, exceeding his rich stuffe.
One man another for found gold did sue:
(Our Orators are but a glimmering snuffe
To this bright Poets shining Oratory.)
Now in that case iudiciously he wrought
The per [...]e at the barre, then defensorie,
To plead first, for the gold inquestion brought;
Before the plaintiffe vrgd his iniurie;
or reason shewd why he by action sought
Recouerie of that gold: or how the same
into the combe of his dead father came.
I wish him henceforth, he himselfe not flatter;
Or thinke (his plaies being passd) he stands secure
This will be vnsafe refuge for the matter
I haue against him: which (I him assure)
Is kept in store: and (cease he not to scatter
His tales abroad our scandall to procure;
As he begins; and leaue to vrge vs on)
Yet hull t shall be produc'd to publique view.
This Eunuch now a foote for action
Being by the Aediles bought, he hard did sue.
To be at sight of the relation.
The Ouerseers come, the Actors drew
To the rehearsall. I beseech you now,
But heare, what he hath challenged and how,
My man baules out in roare, a pilferer
No Poet hath now tenderd you a play:
And yet in all the same, no one word neither
Of's owne, for's money tenderd. Why, I pray?
Why out of Nauius, Plautus, (chuse you whether)
All is purloind that you shall heare to day.
And going on, the enuious point he plies;
That this is stale stuffe in each author named:
That either of them in their Comedies
The souldier and flatterers part haue framed:
And that both thence are hither brought he cries.
Which, if 't be such a fault as must be blamed;
Our Author sayes disknowing led him on:
No purpos'd filching practise thought vpon.
That this is so, may by you straight be tride:
Menanders Flatterer hath a Parasite,
Which Colax called is; there is beside
A braggart Souldier: that he did indite
Those personages thence is not denide,
To fill his Eunuch: but that he did wyte
The Eu­nuch was neuer be­fore produ­ced in La­tine.
That this had euer beene the argument
Of Latine playes before he vtterly
Denyes. If this now be so insolent,
To assume the persons vsed formerly
By other Poets; why is suffrance lent
To frame a seruant running hastely?
To fashion harlots wonton? matrons chaste?
Souldiers to vant? parasites cramming fast?
Why of false children are drabbes brought to bed?
Why the old Master cheated by his slaue?
Why are not loue, hate, iealousie yet dead?
There is no sentence (to conclude) we haue,
Which hath not formerly beene vttered.
It is but reason therefore, if we craue
Notice be tane; and our course pardoned:
If what in precedent the ancients gaue,
New Poets modestly haue followed.
Pray lend your fauor, and attentiue eare;
That you our Eunuches newes may fully heare.

Act. 1.

Scen. 1.

Enter Phaedria and Parmeno.
Phae.
VVHat should I then resolue on rot to go?
Not now at least, being so kindely sent to?
Or rather this way bend, my setled course,
Not to indure these scornefull trickes of Whores?
She shut me out of doores; now sends for me.
Go? neuer I, should she sue earnestly.
Par.
Sir, surely if you can do as you say,
Twere your most worthy, your most manly way.
But if beginning, you so go not one,
And faintly bearing loues assliction,
When y'are not sought to, when you are at square
Shall then come creeping to her; and declare
Your ardent loue, whose flames you cannot beare;
You are gone: shall be her pipe to play vpon,
When you are sound at her deuotion.
And therefore master timely yet consider,
That such a thing as holdeth in it neither
Reason, nor measure; such vniuly thing
Cannot be brought to reasons gouerning.
In loue these vitious humours setled are;
Suspicious, wrongs, enmities, truces, warre,
New league againe: Now this vncertaintie
To draw to certaine, were like mistery,
As if one should a proiect venture on
To make a man mad with discretion.
And what you now here to your selfe in passion
Do vtter, shall I brooke this base queanes fashion?
Who hugges you'd souldier? barres her doore on me?
Not caring? Ile die first: she it shall see
What manner man she has to do withall.
[Page 59]
These your high words, these hot tearmes tragicall
With one false teare shall allay easily;
Which (rubbing of her eyes most pittifully)
She hardly shall force from'hem: and anon
Youle tender your owne accusation,
And stoop to her set penance.
Phae.
Oh my hard fate!
I clearely find my selfe vnfortunate;
And her a wicked strumpet. I do frie
In flames of loue to one I loathing flie:
Knowing and seeing fall; aliue, awake:
Nor see my course.
Par.
To what course should you take,
But seeke to gaine your libertie now lost,
At what low rate you may? if little cost
Will not procure it, then at th'utmost price;
And do not vex your selfe.
Phae.

That thy aduise?

Par.
If you be wise, and to loues miserie
Ad not: what'thas, striue to beare moderately.
Enter Thais.
But she comes foorth; our householdes knowne decay.
For what we ought to haue, she sweepes away.

Scen. 2.

Tha.
VVoes me, I feare Phaedria hath tane it hard
And worse then I did meane it, he was bard
His entrance here last day.
Phae.
Oh Parmeno,
How I do shake and shudder euery part
At sight of her.
Par.
I pray Sir take good heart.
Approach that fire, youl be warmd thoroughly.
Tha.
Who's that? oh, were you my Phaedria so nigh?
Why staid you here? why entred not straight way?
Par.

But nere a word of's shutting out last day.

Tha.

Why art silent?

Phae.
Yes indeed I confesse
Your house is still ope to my free accesse:
[Page 62]
And I the fan'rite.
Tha.

Pray no more of this.

Phae.
Why no more of it? ô, ô, Thais, Thais,
I would our loues were like; that this might thee
equally trouble, as it troubles me;
Or that I could not weigh thy iniurie.
Tha.
I prithee sweete heart Phaedria do not grieue
Troth twas not that I loue any aliue
More then thy selfe, I did it: but the case
(As things fell out) so to be carried was.
Par.
Why, I beleeue her; as things came about,
The poore kind soule for meere loue shut him out.
Tha.
Say you so Parmeno? Leaue that: and heare
Wherefore I now sent for you.
Phae.

Well. I heare.

Tha.

But pray say first, can this your man keepe counsell?

Par.
Who, I? exceeding well. But heare you Thais?
I passe my word to you, with this prouiso,
All truth I heare I hold in exlently:
If lie, or toy, or fable, out it goes:
I'm full of chinckes then, I leake euery where:
If therefore youl haue counsell kept, speake truth.
Tha.

My mother borne at Samos, dwelt at Rhodes.

Par.

This may be well conceald.

Tha.
There a merchant
Bestowed a little girle vpon my mother,
Stolne hence from Athens.
Phae.

Was the child freeborne?

Tha.
I thinke so; do not know the certainty.
Her selfe did tell father and mothers name;
Country or other signes to be knowne by.
She knew not; nor indeede was't possible
By reason of her tender age she should.
The Merchant thus much added, that he heard
The Pirats say of whome he bought the child,
That it was brought from Sunium. My mother
Hauing receiu'd it, bred it, taught it so
In euery thing, as if't had beene her owne:
And indeede most reputed her my Sister.
[Page 63]
Long after I left Rhodes, in company
Of a then stranger, whom alone I kept to,
And hither came. That stranger dying, gaue
All the now goodes vnto me, which I haue.
Par.

Either of these is false, twill out.

Tha.

Why so?

Par.
Because that neither were you satisfied
With him alone, nor yet had all from him:
Good and great part of it, my Master brought you.
Tha.
I grant thee but permit me to go on
Whither I aime. Since that, a souldier
Who had begunne to loue me, trauailed
To Caria: after which I grew into
Acquaintance with your selfe. And you well know.
That I since then haue held you inwardly:
Made you my bosomes onely Secretary.
Phae.

Neither will this be husht by Parmeno.

Par.

ô do you make a doubt ont?

Tha.
Pray attend.
My mother there at Rhodes deceased late;
Her couetous brother, heire to her estate,
Nothing the wench was faire, and skilled well
In Musique; hop'd her at good rate to sell:
So forth he brought her, sold her to my friend
Who then there was; and fully did intend
To giue the maid to me: Yet nothing knew
Of all the passage I haue told to you.
He comming home, and vnderstanding too,
That in my loue you likewise haue to do,
He frames excuses to keepe backe the maid.
For (saies he to me) could he get beliefe
That he in my accompt should be held chiefe,
And you put by? or stood he not afraid
I hauing got her from him, presently
Would then forsake him; he would giue her me?
But this he doubts. Yet I do rather guesse
He fancies her.
Phae.

Has he yet done no more?

[...]
[...]
Tha.
No surely: for my selfe haue (Phaedria)
Vpon that point sisted her narrowly.
For many reasons I desire to get her;
First for she's deemd my sister: then beside
That to her friends I may the maid deliuer.
My selfe do here a louely woman bide,
Hauing nor kinsemen here nor yet fast friend;
Wherefore I seeke to winne some Phaedria,
By this good turne, I to the wench intend.
For my more ready working, I do pray
Thy helpe deare heart. The manner of my plot
Is, by your free consent for some few dayes
He may inioy my loue. Answer you not?
Phae
Oh woman wickedst of all thy race!
Should I reply ought to thy filthy doings?
Par.
ô our braue young Master! I commend him.
He'es vext at length: now sir you are a man.
Phae.
The issue of the tale I could not find:
Small girle stolne hence; my mammy as her owne
Bred it; deemd sister; haue a childing minde
To hea't; and to put it where tis knowne.
Whereto doth this your tale now wheele about?
But that thou loust me lesse then yonder loute,
And iealous art thy sweete pigsme doos toute
On her, thee of his greazie grace cast out?
Tha.

I iealous of it?

Phae.
What else troubles thee?
Is he alone a giuer? didst ere see
My bounty slight or slacke? when late you said
You had a great mind to an Aethiop maid;
Did not I, laying all else care aside,
Cast out for one? and Eunuch too beside
Thou wishedst; cause great Ladies haue
Such creatures; I found one; yesterday gaue
Twentie pounds for'hem. Now despis'd by thee,
I yet retaine this in my memorie:
[Page 65]
For these my kindenesses thou slightes me.
Tha.
Why speake you Phaedria in this angry manner?
Though I desire her, and thinke may obtaine her
Best this way: rather yet then haue a foe
Of you, Ile do as you will haue me do.
Phae
Would that word truly frō thy heart were brought;
Rather then me thy foe if I but thought
That this was spoke without dissembling,
I could my selfe frame to beare any thing.
Par.

How quickly one poore word hath tamed him?

Tha.
do I poore soule speake it dissemblingly?
What thing did you ere craue though reastingly
At my hand, but you had it? I of you
Cannot obtaine leaue for a day or two.
Phae

If onely two, and that if they prooue not twentie.

Tha.

Indeede but two, or —

Phae.

Or I wait nothing.

Tha.

Tshall be no more: pray yeeld this libertie.

Phae.

Well: Thais I must do as you will haue me.

Tha.

Deseruedly I loue you.

Phae.
Tis well done
Ile to the country, and there pine a lone
For these two tedious dayes: I am resolued so.
Thais must be obayd. You Parmeno
See those brought hither straight.
Par.

Yes sir.

Phae.
Thais
Farewell for two dayes.
Tha.
And you Phaedria.
Command you all else?
Phae.
What else should I say
With this same souldier present absent be:
Dayes nights thy loue, fixe thy desire on me:
Thy longings, dreames, thy hopes, delights, and mi [...].
Fix vpon me: be all with me: in fine
Be thy soule mine, as mine is truly thine.
Exeunt Phaedria and Parmeno.
Tha.
Woes me; perhaps he hardly credits me,
But iudgeth me by other wantons trade:
But I that best know my owne priuitie,
Know I haue now no kinde of leazing made:
[Page 66]
And that I loue, no man more heartily
Then Phaedria here: and that what I haue said
Or done, is onely for to helpe the maide:
I hope I haue well nigh discouered
Who is her brother: a yong man well bred.
He promised to visite me this day.
Ile get me in, and for his coming stay:
Exit Thait

Acts. 2.

Scen. 1.

Enter Phaedria and Parmeno.
Phae.

AS I late bad, see those be hither brought.

Par.

I will.

Phae.

But carefully.

Par.

It shall be done.

Phae,

And speedily.

Par.

I Warrant you.

Phae.
Is this Sufficient?
Par.
Good God▪ What neede you aske so?
Would you could find some good commoditie,
As easily as all this will bee lost.
Phae.
My selfe, to my selfe dearer, am lost too.
Do not so thwartly intertaine the charge.
Par.

No: but will see it done. Would you ought else?

Phae.
Grace this my present with what words thou canst
And what thou canst, disgrace my riuall from her.
Par.
I had thought o'that, though you had not
Mentiond it.
Phae.

Ile to the country, and there keepe.

Par.

I Iudge so.

Phae.

But hear'st?

Par.

What say y'?

Phae.
Dost iudge I may fettle
There to abide without returning backe,
For all the time of my inioyned pennance?
Par.
You? troth I thinke not: either I imagine
Youle pace againe backe to her presently;
Or want o' sleepeith' night will force you hither,
Phae.

Ile worke to wearinesse, that I may force sleepe.

Par.

Put this into your taske youle watch wearie.

Phae.
A way foole, thou talk'st idlely Parmeno:
I sure must weede this my effeminate minde;
My selfe Louercoker. Can I not
(If need should be) for beare her company,
Yea, for three dayes together.
Par.
Wonderfull!
For three whole dayes? aduise sir what you do.
Phae.

The word shall stand.

Par.
Oh you good gracious gods!
Exit Phaedria.
What disease call you this? is it not strange
That none should know him the same thing to be,
That erst he was? who late more stay'd then he?
More temperate? lesse vaine? but who comes here?
Enter Gnato with Pamphila, and a waiting wends.
How! troth us the souldiers Parasite
Gnato; who with him brings the maid along.
As present vnto Thais. Oh rare sight!
Sweete countenance! tis marle but I shall haue
Course entertainement of her here to day
With my decrepit Eunuch. Why her face
Puts downe the Mistresse; Thais selfe doth passe.

Scen. 2.

Gna.
OH you immortall gods! how farre one man
Outstrips another? and what difference is
Twixt men of braine, and fooles? this argument
Comes to my minde on this occasion.
To day I met one, of my rancke and place;
No niggard pinch-gut: but one, tooke delight
To hauocke out his state in daintie morsels.
I note him rugged, nastie, drooping growne;
Beset with ragges and age. Why how now fellow,
Say I to him, what does this dressing meane?
Marrie, saies he, poore creature hauing lost
[Page 68]
All I enioyd, see to what state I am driuen?
Acquaintance, friends, all do abandon me.
Here I beganne (measuring my owne estate)
To hold him in contempt; and schoole him thus:
What, idle drone, hast thou so fram'd thy course
That no hope's left thee? hast thou sent thy wits
After thy wealth? doost not obserue me
One of thine owne ranke and condition?
What cloathing, coulor, neatnesse,, plight of body
Haue I? haue euery thing though nothing haue:
And nought possessing, yet do nothing want.
I but (sighes out my fellow) I poore caitise
Cannot indure to be a ieasting stocke,
Nor suffer stripes for money. What, I prithe
(Reply I) should be gotten that way, thinkst?
Thou art cleane wide: in former times, of old,
Such kind of fellowes, shifted out a liuing:
This a new way of birding found by me.
There are a sort of men that faine would shew
To haue rare parts; and yet are nothing so.
I follow these; to these my selfe apply;
Not to make them sporte by my foolerie,
But my owne sport of them I smile on these,
Withall admire their wits: what ere they please
To say I do commend it: if straight way
They do the very selfesame thing vnsay,
I praise that too: ought say they, ought denie?
The same I say, denie for company.
In fine, I on my selfe impose this law:
Their humors at all hands to sooth and claw:
And this is now found the most thriuing way.
Par.

Troth a fine fellow: he of fooles mintes madmen.

Gna.
While thus we talke, we reach to th' market place:
The ioyfull Victlers haste to meete me there;
Fish-mungers, Butchers, Saulsagemakers, Cookes,
[Page 69]
And Fishermen: people to whom I had beene
both beneficiall, while my state stood good;
And since twas sunke: and still aduantage them.
These me salute, inuite me home to dine:
Do welcome me. The Hungerstarued fellow
I nam'd, seeing the accompt men made o' me,
And that I far'd so well, so easily;
Humbly besought me he might learne the trade.
I bade him follow that if 't may be wrought,
Lake as professed Philosophers haue sought
To keepe their names vp in their sectaries,
According to their doctrines qualities:
Epicures, Cynickes, Stoickes, Platonickes:
So these my followers be stil'd Gnatonickes.
Par.
Do you not note what ease and trusting to
Other mens roast, may worke a man to do?
Gna.
Yet why thus loyter I, and not conuey
This maid to Thais; and her further pray
To come to supper? but see Parmeno
The souldiers Riuals seruant, at her doore.
Hees melancholy: all's well. Sure the folke here
Are frostie witted: I am now determind.
To play vpon the foole.
Par.
By this their guift
They thinke that Thais now 's their owne cocke-sure.
Gnat.
Gnato does greete his chiefe friend Parmeno.
With wishes of much health. What dost man?
Par.

Stand.

Gna.

I see't, but feest ought here does trouble thee?

Par.

Yes, thee.

Gna.

I do beleeue it; but ought else?

Par.

Why askst?

Gna.

Because y' are sad.

Par.

Not I truly.

Gna.

No, be not. But what thinks thou of this maid?

Par.
Thus you now meane, that we are cashierd hence,
Las, all things fusser intercourse of change.
Gna.
Parm'no: for these sixe whole moneths together.
Ile set thee at rest from trudging vp and downe
[Page 70]
Or watching to day breake: make I thee happie?
Par.

Me? wounder sully!

Gna.

So I vse my friends.

Par.

I do commend you for it.

Gna.
I detaine you:
Perhaps you were to go some whither else.
Par.

No whither, I.

Gna.
Then I pray a little
Lend me your furtherance: worke my entrance here.
Par.
Well sir go on. Your passage now lies saire
By reason of this maid you bring with you.
Gna.

Would ye haue any cald to you out of th' house?

Exit Gnato and Pamphila.
Par.
Let but two dayes be passed ouer once;
And you that haue the happie readinesse
With your least singer now to ope the doores,
Ile make you many a time hereafter knocke
And kicke your heeles against'hem to no purpose
Enter Gnato.
Gna.
What do you still attend here Parmeno?
Pray, are you plac'd there sentinell, to watch
Least any priuate messenger should runne
Betweene the souldier and Thais hither.
Exit Gnato againe.
Par.
Conceitedly! but indeede they must be
Things extraordinary, that may please
Enter Chaerea.
The souldier. But my Masters younger sonne
I spie a coming hither: I do maruell
What tis hath drawne him out of the Pyreum:
For there at this time he is publique Custos.
Tis not for nothing. And he com's in haste:
And (why God knowes) his eyes about doos cast.

Scen. 3.

Chae.
I Am vndone she's no where to be seene:
And I that lost sight of her am lost too.
Where may I search? where hunt? whom aske? what way
Take? I haue no direction; but I haue this hope left
[Page 71]
Where ere she be, she cannot be long hid.
Beautifull face! hence forward I do blot
Out of the table of my fantasie
All other women: and do fall to loath
These common beauties.
Par.
Marke this yonker too?
I know not what he talkes to himselfe of loue.
Oh my most vnfortunate old master!
Why this is such a hotspurre, if he take
To wenching once, youle thinke his brothers course
meere trickes and gambads in comparison
Of what his furious rage will venture on.
Chae.
Oh all you gods and goddesses confound
That same old dotaid stay'd me on my way.
Lee them plague me too, that did deigne to stay:
And further would not slight him. But behold
Here's Parmeno: well met.
Par.
Why are you sad?
Or about what so earnest? whither going?
Chae.
Troth I not know, nor whither, nor bout what;
I am so vtterly beside my selfe.
Par.

Why how comes this?

Chae.

I am in loue man.

Par.

How?

Chae.
Now Parmeno make proofe, what dwels in thee.
Thou knowst thou oftentimes hast promist me,
Bidding me thinke of something I desired;
And thou wouldst shew how thou couldst pleasure me.
And this thou offerdst, when I secretly
Brought to the seller all our victualls to thee.
Par.

Peace idlesbee

Chae.
Now on my part tis found
What I desire: let me thy promise find.
Besides it is an action of that value,
Whereon thou mayst spend thy best sweat and labor.
This wench is nothing like our Citie Mammats,
Whom their mothers striue to make low shoulderd;
And lace hard in, to make 'hem appeare slender;
If any grow a little fleshlier
[Page 72]
Sh's tearm'd a champion; straightway dieted:
That be they of naturall temper ere so good,
They tanner 'hem to forme of reedes or rushes:
And therefore they are made much on.
Par.

What on yours?

Chae.

Face af a rare proportion.

Par.

Excellent!

Chae.

Colour her owne plumpe body; full of mettle.

Par.

Her yeares?

Chae.

About sixteene.

Par.

The very prime.

Chae.
Procure her me by force stelth, or intreatie;
I weigh not which way, so I may ento, her.
Par.

Of what condition is she?

Chae.

Troth I know not.

Par

Of whence.

Cha

Nor that.

Par.

Where dwels she?

Chae.

As little, that.

Par.

Where saw you her?

Chae.

Passing a long the street.

Par.

How lost?

Chae.
That was chafing with my selfe
Tust now as I came hither: neither thinke
Ther's any liuing on, to whom good happes
Offering well at first, do end more thwartly.
Par.

What mischiefe hath falue out?

Chae.

Oh me accurst!

Par.

Why, what's the matter?

Chae.
Aske thou? knowst thou not.
My fathers kinsman, Archidemides?
A man much of his yeares?
Par.

What else?

Chae.
Whil'st I
Follow the maiden, he comes iust vpon me.
Par.

Vnseasonably o' my word.

Chae.
Nay verily
Vnluckely. The word vnseasonable
Fits other chances better Parmeno.
I may sweare safe, this sixe or seuen moneths
last past, I nere happend to see the man;
But now when least I would, or had lesse neede.
Seemes it not strange, how thinkst thou?
Par.

Yes, y' faith.

Chae.
As distant as he was he huddled to me,
Bow-bent, palsey-handed, blabber-lipt, cough-strangled:
Ho, ho, stay, Chaerea (sayes he) Chaerea stay;
Chaerea to thee I speake: knowes thou my errand?
What is it, say I to him? marrie — marrie —
And halfe an houre after grunties to me
I haue a triall to be heard to morrow —
And what of that, say I? he answers me
see that thou tell thy father carefully,
That he remember to be early ready
To pleade my cause. This our dialogisme
Tooke vp an houre of time, I askt what else?
No more sares he. I left him; looking backward
To spie the maid, she ith meane time had turnd
downe this way to our street.
Par.
Tis tenne to one
But he meanes her, that was now brought to Thais.
Chae.

When I come hither, she's not to be seene.

Par.

Did any companie attend the wench?

Chae.

Yes, a Parasite and a maid seruant.

Par.

Tis she Cast of your care: all now is quiet.

Chae.

Thou talkest from the purpose.

Par.

Nay, but minde the businesse now in hand:

Chae.

Say doost know her? or sawest her?

Par.

Saw, know her, know where she is?

Chae.

Oh my sweete Parmeno knowst her?

Par.

I do know her.

Chae.

And where she is?

Par.
Here, brought to the harlot Thais,
And giuen her for a gift.
Chae.
Who is so potent
To giue such gifts?
Par.
Thraso the souldier,
Your brother Phaedria's riuall.
Chae.
Thou declar'st
But a hard case my brother stands in then.
Par.

Yould say so indeede, if you had seene the present Which he prouides to send in counterpoise.

Chae.

Prithe, what ist?

Par.

An Eunuch.

Chae.
What, that driule,
That filthy fellow he brought yesterday?
The old man-woman?
Par.

I, the very same.

Chae.
Hele be coited out o' doores with's present.
But I nere knew, this Thais was our neighbour
Par.

She has not long beene.

Chae.
I'm a fellow of nothing.
Strange, I should nere haue seene her? but doost heare?
Is she so faire, as she's reported for?
Par.

Yes sine.

Chae.

But not to be compar'd to mine?

Par.

Tis otherwise.

Chae.
I prithe Parmeno
Worke that I may obtaine her.
Par.
Ile see toot:
Ile studie for your furtherance and helpe. Command you me ought else?
Chae.

Whether now go'st thou?

Par.
Home; to conuey those seruants vnto Thais.
As late your brother chargd me.
Chae.
Oh blessed Eunuch!
Who is to be there placed in that house.
Par.

Wherein so blest

Chae.
Wherein, demandest thou?
That euer has so faire a fellow seruant
To looke on; talke to: vnder the same roofe
Be still with her; sometimes take meales with her?
Sometimes sleepe nigh her?
Par.
What if now your selfe
May be made happie?
Chae.

Wherein Parmeno?

Par.
Say. Tak's clothes
Chae.

His clothes? what thence Will follow?

Par.

Ile lead y' in 's stead.

Chae.

I note.

Par.

Ile say y' are hee.

Chae.

I apprehend thee

Par.
You may then enioy
The benefits, which now you said he should;
be present, eate, touch, play, and lie close by her:
Seeing [...] 'hem do know you, what you are.
Beside your face and yeares are such, you may
Passe easilie for an Eunuch.
Chae.
Excellent.
I neuer in my lise heard better counsell.
Let's in; and helpe to dresse me presently.
Leade me, carrie me, with all speede thou canst.
Par.

What mean'st? troth I but reasted.

Chae.

Thou wast's time in prating.

Par.
I haue cast my selfe away.
What haue I done wretch? whither thrust you me?
Will you now force me? Sir I warne you stay.
Chae.

Let's goe.

Par.

Persist you?

Chae.

I am fully bent toot.

Par.

Foresee, if th'course be not to hot for vs.

Chae.

Tis not I warrant thee, let's on.

Par.
I, but
This beane will sure be threshed on my shoulders.
Oh tis a hainous practise we attempt.
Chae.
A hamous sigge: is that a hainous practise,
If I be brought in a baudie house,
And there returne their owne vpon these gibets
And plagues of men? which alwayes hold om youth
In such contempt, and alwayes worke our torment?
If I do now put a like tricke vpon 'hem,
As we by them are still guld? or else rather
Ist fit, we still take their wronges patiently?
I say tis fit I put the ieast vpon her.
Who'l blame me that shall heare on't? euery man
Will say, I fitted 'hem a peniworth
Par.
What meanes all this? If you be so resolu'd
You may go on. But pray you sir hereafter
Lay not the fault on me.
Chae.

I will not.

Par.

You Command me then?

Chae.

Command, charge and compell.

Par.
Ile nere (decline then) your authoritie.
Exeunt Parmeno and Chaerea.
Follow.
Chae

The powers diuine prosper our course.

Act. 3.

Scen. 1.

Enter Thraso, and Gnato.
Thr.

DId Thais (saiest thou) giue me such great thanks?

Gna.

Huge thankes sir.

Thr.

And glad saist? ha?

Gna.

Not so much for the gifts worth, as that it came From you: that's her hearts pride sir.

Enter Parmeno and keepe aloofe.
Par.
I come forth to see
How time serues for conueiance of my present.
But lo the souldier.
Thr.
My kinde destenie
Sure of a child bestow'd this gift vpon me,
That all I do becomes most acceptable.
Gna.

Truly I note so much.

Thr.
The King himselfe
Still vsed to giue me singular great thankes
For all I did; to other men not so.
Gna.
The man that hath braine in him doth deriue
Oft times the glorie earn'd by others sweate
Vpon himselfe: a thing that's rife in you.
Thr.

Thou hast it.

Gna.

Therefore the King still wore you—

Thra.

I,

Gna.

In his eye.

Thra.
True: gaue the ouersight
Of all his forces, all his plots to me.
Gna.

Rare!

Thr.
Then, if wearinesse at any time
Of men, or tediousnesse of businesse
Possest him; when he minded to be priuate,
Would—as it were—thou feelst me?
Gna.
Yes when he would
Vnloade his minde—as twere—of care.
Thr.
Yes, then
He would retire with me alone to banquet.
Gna.

ô strange! you do describe a rare choise King.

Thr.

I, he's a man of very few mens stampe.

Gna.

Rather of none's if he conuerse with you.

Thra.
All men enuied me; closely snapt at me;
I thus regard'hem; all (I say) bare me ill:
But one most deadly, whom the King had made
Orescer of his Indian Elephants.
He at a time being ouer sawsie with me,
What said I to him, take you boldnesse Strato,
Because you haue command ouer the beastes?
Gna.
So helpe me God, an exlent wittie iest:
Oh singular! this was a wipe vnto him.
Ah! and what he?
Thr.

Strooke dumbe.

Gna.

How could he chuse?

Par.
Your faith good gods! desperate fellow, caitife,
Churchrobber.
Thr.
I but what thinkst thou Gnato.
Of that same ieast, wherewith I girded once
A youth of Rhodes being at dinner with me?
Did I nere tell't thee?
Gna.
Neuer: I pray tell it.
I haue heard it told aboue a thousand times.
Thr.
This Rhodian I speake of, a raw young strippling
Sat once at banquet with me: when by chance
I had my harlot with me: This greene nouice
Began to speake broad: how now impudence,
Say I to him, art thou thy selfe hare-haunched
And hunt'st for ven'son.
Gna.

ha, ha, he.

Thra.

How ist?

Gna.
Conceited, clearely, smooth, not to be mended
For Gods loue was't your iest? I thought it old.
Thr.

Hast heard it?

Gna.
Oft, abroad it beares the bell
For a prime wittie one.
Thr.

Twas mine.

Gna.
Alas,
Rash headlesse youth.
Par.

Now the gods confound thee.

Gna.

For Gods sake what did he?

Thr.
Blasted. All there
Were readie euery man to burst with laughter:
And in conclusion all gan now feare me.
Gna.

I could not blame'hem.

Thr.
But doost heare wert
Best I cleard my selfe to Thais, of this maid:
For that she stands in iealousie I loue her?
Gna.

At no hand: rather striue to increase her doubt.

Thr.

Why?

Gna.
Aske you? find you not, if any time
She do commend or mention Phaedria,
How it does vex you?
Thr.

Yes.

Gna.
To preuent that
This is your onely remedie. When she
Names Phaedria to you, do you presently
Name Pamphila: if she at any time
Say, let vs haue home Phaedria to banquet,
Reply you, call in Pamphila to sing:
In fine, giue like for like, to nettle her
Thr.

I, if she lou'd me, this might further Gnato.

Gna.
Seing she expects and loues what you do giue her,
She long since loueth you; you haue long since
Easily got the starte how you may grieue her.
Sheel alwayes stand in aw, least any time
Vpon offence tane youl bestow elsewhere
That benefit, she now doos reape from you
Thr.

Tis right thou saist. Strange, 't came not to my Minde?

Gna.
That is a ieast indeed; because you bent not
Your mind out or else Thraso what rare straine
Had it produc'd, if minted in your braine.
Enter Thais and Pythias her maid, with other wenches attending.

Scen. 2.

Tha.
ME thought, I ene now heard the souldiers tongue
See where he is: Thraso my friend, well met.
Thr.
Oh my deare Thais, my delight, how doost thou?
Do you a little loue me for your Ministrell?
Par.
What a sweete proper handsell has he giu'n her
At the first onset.
Tha.

Much for your deseruing:

Gna.

Then let's to supper. Why here stay you?

Par.
Marke tother Wiseacre too. A man may iudge
He was of a mans getting.
Tha.
When you please,
I am in readinesse.
Par.
Ile go toward 'hem,
And make as if I now but new came forth.
Are you to go foorth any whither Thais?
Par.
ô Parmeno, well done: yes indeede to day.
I am to go abroad.
Par.

Pray whither?

Tha.
Seest thou not
The man There?
Par.
Yes, withall his presence irkes me.
Those presents from my Master Phaedria
Are ready when you please.
Thr.
What stay we for?
Why [...]et not hence?
Par.
Pray sir grant truce a while,
I may surrender vp some trifling presents, I also may
Imparle and treate with her.
Thr.
Some goodly present
Sure: nothing like mine.
Par.
The matter selfe will
Shew that. Ho there, bid those two I gaue in charge,
Come quickly forth.
Enter Blackemore Wench and Eunuch.
Come you here forward. This same wench was brought
From Aethiopia.
Thr.

Some three halfe penie purchase,

Gna.

Scarce that.

Par.
Where are you Dorus.
Come you hither. Here is an Eunuch for you: marke
How sweete fac't, of what a blooming age.
Tha.
Now
As God helpe me a handsome youth.
Par.
What say
You to him Gnato? What fault findest thou? or what
Obiects thou Thraso? husht both: sufficient
Commendation. Prooue him in learning, song or
Wrestling: such knowledge fitteth free-horne youth to
Haue, Ile make it cleare appeare he's perfect in.
Thr.

For neede, vnwarm'd with wine I could that Eunuch

Par.
And he that sends you these, doos not require
That you should onely liue to pleasure him;
For his sake, barre all else your company;
Nor bragges his battailes, nor shews forth his scarres;
Nor stands betwixt you and your benefit
As one doos, I could name: but at such times
When he may be iniurious to none,
Your selfe dispos'd, and time conuenient;
If then admitted, he rest's satisfied.
Thr.

This shews he serues some poore & forlorne Master.

Gna.
For no man sure that could procure another
Would indure this.
Par.
Sirra., hold thou thy peace,
[Page 80]
Whom I do iudge vnder all names of basenesse:
For thou that fram'st thy selfe to claw that thing,
I thinkst mayest feede on fire.
Thr.

Do we yet go?

Tha.
Ile haue but in these first; and leaue some charge
Among my seruants, what I would haue done;
And come out to you streight.
Thr.

Ile depart hence.

Exit Thais with the Eunuch and blackmore
Gnato do you stay for her.
Par.
I, for it fits not
A generall walke with's mistresse in the streetes.
Thr.
What should I vse a manie words to thee?
Exit Parmeno
Thou art much like thy Master.
Gna.

Ha, Ha, he.

Thr.

What ist thou laughst at?

Gna.
That which now you said,
And the other ieast broke on the Rhodian
Enter Thais
Came to my mind: But Thais is come foorth.
Thr.

Runne you before and get at home all readie.

Gna.

Content.

Tha.
You Pythias haue a speciall care,
Exit Gnato.
If Chremes chance to call here, you intreate him
To stay; if that he cannot fitly do,
That he would come againe some other time:
If neither that he can, bring him to me.
Pyt.

I will forsooth.

Tha.
But what, what was it else
I was about to say? Oh, haue a care
Vnto the maiden, see you? and keepe home.
Exit Pytheas into her Mistresses house.
Thr.

Let's go.

Tha.

Wenches attend and follow me.

Exeunt Thraso, Thais and her traine.

Scen. 3.

Enter Chremes.
Chr.
The more I do reuolue things in [...]y minde
Still the more likely arguments, find
That Thais here aimes some shrewd tricke against me;
I see she workes on me so cunningly.
When first she sent for me (if any one
should then haue askt me the occasion
Of businesse twixt vs twaine, I knew not [...]ng
To Answer) being come, with hammerit
She fashiond out pretences of my stay [...]
She had performd religious rites that day
Vnto the gods, and would communicate
A Weightie secret to me: (I then straight
Grew iealous, all this was some cunning strain [...],
She fits downe by me; cause of talke doth frame
I seeming cold, her speech to this point came,
How long 'twas since my Parents had beene dead
Long since I told her: then she questioned
If I had land at Sunium? and how farre
It lay from sea? this (I thinke) liketh her:
She hopes to worke it from me. at the last
She drew to this, if I had no young sister
From that place stolne a many yeares now past?
Who then was with her at the time we mist her?
What things she had about her? or if any
Could know her? why should she these questions moue
vnlesse (as is the impudence of many)
She faine her selfe would that my sister prooue,
Of old so young hence lost? should she suruiue,
Her yeares at most reach not aboue sixteene;
Thais is elder then my selfe, I weene.
She crau'd me againe come to her: let her driue
[Page 82]
The matter, and her business to some head;
Or leaue this sending: ile not be troubled,
To listen her third errand. Ho, within —
Enter Pythias to her Misteresses doore.
Pyth.

Who's that?

Chr.

One Chremes.

Pyth.

Oh fine little pleasant pa [...]e.

Chr.

I still affirme, I am laid for to be catcht.

Pyth.
Thais did earnestly request you would
Returne to morrow.
Chr.

I go into the Country.

Pyth.

Pray y'

Chr.

I say I cannot.

Pyth.
Then remaine here
A while till she come backe.
Chr.

No by no meanes.

Pyth.

Why my kind Chremes?

Chr.

Hence you harlotrie

Pyth.
If such be your determination,
I pray step ouer to her where she is.
Chre.

I care not if I do.

Pyth.
Darias go straight
And leadeth is gentleman to his souldiers.
Pythias [...]turnes into her Mistresses house. Dorias enters and go away with Chremes.

Scen. 4.

Enter Antipho.
Ant.
SOme youthes of vs agreed on yesterday
A feast in Comon mongst vs [...] Chaerea
We made our Steward, rings were giuen, time, place
Set downe; time's past, where it appointed was
Nothing is ready, he not to be seene,
I know not what to say out, what to weene.
Now all the rest haue laid the taske on me
To seeke him; therefore now Ile first go see
If he be gotten home. But who is that
Comes out of Thais house? is't he or not?
Enter Char. in the Eunuches cloathes!
[Page 83]
Tis he. What creature's he become? what meanes
This his attire? what euill bodes his staring?
I cannot enough wonder, or coniecture.
But what so ere it be, Ile aloofe stand;
And angle for the secret now in hand.

Scen. 5.

Chae.
IS none about the doores? Not one. Doos none
come yet behind me neither? No not one.
May I not now at pleasure vent my ioy?
Oh Iupiter! now truly is the time
I easilie could brooke to part with life:
Least some insuing wretchednesse thereof
Should hap to soure my present happinesse.
No curious inquisitor now meete me?
That vp and downe would hant me, wearie me,
Kill me with tedious questions, why I skippe thus?
Why am so iocund? Whither I am going?
Or whence do come? in what place got these clothes?
What is my ayme? whither Ime mad or sober?
Ant.
Ile to him, and obtaine the thankes of him
He so desires to part with. Chaerea,
Why in such rapture man! whence this attire?
Why art so pleasant? or what aymst thou at?
Art in thy wits? Why starest thou so vpon me?
Why speak'st not?
Chae.
Oh happie day? ô friend well met.
There's no man liuing, I would rather see
At this time then thy selfe.
Ant.
I prithee, say
What is the matter!
Chae.
Nay truly I pray thee
Giue me the hearing. Know'st thou not her here
My brother is in loue withall?
Ant.
Yes Thais:
As I do guesse.
Chae.

The same.

Ant.

So I remember.

Chae.
A certaine maid was giuen her to day.
What neede I blazon or set out to thee
[Page 84]
This maidens matchelesse beautie, Anripho?
Thou knowest me choise in such disciphering.
She did inflame my heart.
Ant.

What saist?

Chae.
thou'lt say
She from the whole sex beares the Bell away,
If euer thou shalt see her. What neede words?
I gan to loue her: by good chance there was
At home an Eunuch which my brother had
bought for this Thais, not then sent to her.
Here our man Parmeno an odde inckling gaue me
Of a deuice, which quickly I laid hold on.
Ant.

What

Chae.
If you would silent keepe, you would
Know sooner.
First to change cloathes with him, then cause my selfe
To be conueyed for him.
Ant.

What for the Eunuch?

Chae.

Yes.

Ant.

What aduantage should you winne thereby?

Chae.
Mak'st then a question? I should see, should heare,
Should be with her I loued, Antipho.
Was it a slight cause, or a trifling reason?
I was brought to her; when she had receiued me
She gladly led me home: commits the maid —
Ant.

To whom? To thee?

Chae.

To me.

Ant.

a fine safe­guard.

Chae.
She chargeth me that no man come to her;
Commands me further, I not start from her;
But that alone I keepe with her alone,
In a close chamber: I say, yes forsooth;
Vpon the ground looking demurely.
Ant.

Gaitise.

Chae.
I am to go now foorth (saies she) to banquet,
And with her leades along her maiden seruants;
(A few young nouice wenches left behind
To attend vpon the maid) these presently
Prepare for her to Bathe. I wish them haste
While they make things in readinesse, the maid
Sits in a closet, looking on a table:
Wherein was painted, how that Iupiter
[Page 85]
Once ray'nd in Danaes lappe a golden showie.
I look'd vpon the piece too: and because
He had in former times plaid the like prankt,
My spirits were the more incouraged:
In that a God had taken human shape,
And in gold dew dropping himselfe through tiles
Had closely, finely, wantond with his lemman
And which o' th'Gods had done't? matie the same
Who shakes with thunder heauens high arched frame
Should I wormeling (then) make scruple of it?
I did not, but imbrac'd it willingly.
When this I cast in mind, the maid meane while
Is cal'd for in, to wash: goes, bathes, returnes;
And afterward they lay her in her bed:
I waiting stand if they'ld bid me do ought.
One comes to me, and sayes, you sirra Dorus
Take you this fanne; and thus fanne wind vpon her [...]
When we haue washt, you (if you will) wash too.
I take it with sad countenance.
Ant.
At that time
I would ha' seene that bashfull face of thine
How thou great Asse didst stand holding a fanne
Chae
She had scarse spoken it, when all together
I surring out of the roome, depart to Bathe;
And make such noise, as seruants commonly
Are went to do, when Masters are from home
Meane while a flumber seases on the maide.
I priuily (thus) on the fannes side do leere,
And looke about too, if all else be cleare:
I saw all safe, and hoited fast the doore.
Ant.

What then?

Chae.

What then foole?

Ant.

I con­fesse it.

Chae.
Should I let slippe such opportunitie,
So profferd, short, wish'd and not hoped for?
I had beene then indeed such as I shewd for.
Ant.
Tis true thou sayest. But in the meane while what's done
[Page 86]
Cconcerning our repast?
Chae

why all is readie.

Ant.

Thou art carefull: where? at your house?

Chae.
No at Discus
Our free-mans.
Ant.
Tis farre hence, let's make more haste
Go shift your cloathes.
Chae.
Where should I go to shift?
Ime lost; from whom I stand as banished;
I doubt my brother may be now within:
Feare also, least my father be returnd
Out of the countrey.
Ant.
Go we to our house,
That's the next place, where you may shift your selfe.
Chae.
The aduise is good, lets go: withall I minde
To take thy counsell, how I may my loue
Further enioy.
Ant.

Content, our wits will prooue.

Exeunt Chae. and Antipho.

Act. 4.

Scen. 1.

Enter Dorias.
Dor.
SO help me God, I somewhat doubt poore creature
By things I saw, least the inraged souldier
Should raise some broile; and do my Mistresse wrong.
For presently as soone as Chremes came
The late giu'n young maides brother; she requests
The souldier, he would cause him be cald in:
He grew in sume, but yet durst not deny her.
Shee further moues his inuitation
Vnto their banquet: (this my Mistresse did
To keepe him there; because as yet the time
Seru'd not to tell him things concern'd his sister.
The souldier willd him sit; yet grumblingly.
He plac'd, my mistresse frames discourse to him:
The souldier thought a riuall had beene brought
[Page 87]
Vnder his nose, and minding to crie quittance
Cal'd out, ho, one of you fetch Pamphila
To sing to vs; Thais cryes out, at no hand:
What her to a banquet? He would haue it so.
Hence grew the matter to a downe right braule:
My mistresse priuily tooke of her iewels,
And gaue 'hem me in secret to bring thence.
This is a certaine signe, whereby I know
Shee' [...] slip thence, when she spies fit time thereto
Manet Dorias.

Scen. 2.

Enter Phadria.
Phae.
AS I vpon my iourney passing was,
A thronging troupe of busie thoughts do presse
Into my mind; as ought it comes to passe
To men whose soules some trouble seised has:
And euery thing in the worse sence I guesse.
What neede much talke? while these dumpes me possesse
Vnheeded I was pass'd the towne I ment to,
And was gonne farre beyond it; when at last
Perceauing it I backe returned fast:
And being scarce come vnto the torne which went to
The towne, there staid; and in my minde thus cast,
Two whole dayes must I this place be pent to
Alone without her? Why is that such a matter?
Tis nothing: Nothing? What, if not come at her
To touch her? must I yet be barr'd her sight?
If that be cross'd, is this to be lost quite?
To climbe the lowest, first step of loues lather
Were somewhat yet. But why in such affright
Enter Pythias.
Comes Pythias foorth? and why so hastily?
Manet Phaedria.

Scen. 3.

Pyth.
VVRetch that I am, wher shal I find this fellow?
Where this vngodly wicked fellow find?
That he should dare attempt a piece of worke
So monstrous, so audacious!
Phae
I am lost,
And doubt what this may meane.
Pyth.
Besides, yet further
The vilaine not alone defil'd the maid;
But rent the poore soules linnen, tore her haire.
Phae.

How's this?

Pyth.
Whom if I now could light vpon,
How I would flie vpon th'eyes o' th' witch?
Phae.
I cannot guesse what coile hath here besalne
Since my departure. Ile go to her. How now?
What is the matter? why such haste? Who is it
Pythias, thou lookst for thus.
Pyth.
Oh Phaedria,
Whom seeke I? Sir I pray you get you hence
Where you deserue, with your conceited presents.
Phae.

What may this meane?

Pyth.
Aske you? what fine Eunuch
Was that you sent? what stirre hath he here made vs?
H'has rauisht the young maide, the souldier
Bestowed vpon my Mistresse.
Phae.

Ha! what this?

Pyth.

I am vndone.

Phae.

Thou art drunke.

Pyth.
I would
To God that all that hate me, were as drunke as I am.
Dorias. For Gods loue Pythias what strange happe was this?
Phae.

Th'art mad. How could an Eunuch do such things?

Pyth.
I know not what he was, but what h'has done
The case it selfe doth shew. The wench she weepes.
And when one askes her, dare not vtter why.
The honest fellow too's not to be found.
Beside I feare, hee's runne away with somewhat.
Phae.
You make me wonder, where the lazie bones
Should haue conueid himselfe: vnlesse penhaps
[Page 89]
He be retir'd backe to our house againe.
Pyth.

Pray, see if he be there.

Phae.

You shall know straight.

Dorias.
I am to seeke, good God sweete Pythias
I haue not heard so strange and accident.
Pyth.
Yes, I had heard that they loued woman
Deerely, but could do nothing. And forgetfull beast
I neuer thought ont: else I had mewd him vp,
And nere h'trusted her vnto his keeping.

Scen. 4.

Enter Phaedria haling out of doores Dorus the Eunuch in Chaereas apparell.
Phae.
COme out o'doores mischieuos roague; come out.
what draw you backward? come foorth runaway
Ill purchased commoditie come foorth.
Dorus.

For Gods sake sir.

Phae.
Marke how the Hangman
Wries his choppes a'toneside? sirra, what's the scope
Of this your coming backe? the misterie
Of this your changing cloathes? your answer sirrha?
If I had stay'd nere so little Pithias,
I had not found him there: he had prepar'd
Readie for packing.
Pyth.

Haue you got him then?

Phae.

Got him? what else?

Pyth.

Vpon my faith that's well.

Doras.

I troth that's passing well.

Pyth.
Where is he?
Phae askest?
Seest him not?
Pyth.

See pray? whom?

Phae.

Why this.

Pyth.

Wha'ts he?

Phae.

He that this day was brought you.

Pyth.
None of vs
Ere saw this fellow, till now Phadria.
Phae.

Nere saw?

Pyth.
for Gods loue. (Phaedria) did you
Thinke,
That this was brought.
Phae.

Yes for I had no other.

Pyth.
Fie, there's betweene 'hem no comparison.
[Page 90]
That was a faire and comely vizadgd youth.
Phae.
You thought so then cause he had other cloathes on:
Those off, you thinke him now ill fauored.
Pyth.
Au! pray sir cease: as if the difference.
Were small betweene 'hem? here to day was brought
(Phaedria) a youth you would ha'longd to looke on:
This an old, creping, dreaming, dropsie, dotard;
Complexiond like a Weazell.
Phae.
How, how this?
Chrochets? you make me searse know what I do.
Sirrha come neare me did not I buy you?
Dorus.

Yes forsooth.

Pyth.

Now command him answer me.

Phae.
Put foorth your question.
Pyth.
cam'st thou here to day?
You see he does denie it: but the other
Came to vs, hither brought by Parmeno,
Some sixteene yeares of age.
Phae.
Resolue me this;
First, by what meanes got you the cloathes you weare?
Silent? monster of men, speakst not? Dorus. Chaerea
Came home.
Pyth.

My brother?

Dorus.

Yes.

Phae.

When?

Dor.

But this day.

Phae.

How long since?

Dorus.

Euen now.

Phae
And
Who was with him?
Dorus.

Parmeno

Phae.

Hadst thou euer before seene him?

Dorus.

No, nor yet ere before had heard him named.

Phae.
How then didst know him to haue bin my brother
Dorus. Parmeno said so. He gaue me these cloathes.
Phae.

Ime lost.

Dorus.
himselfe withall straight put on
Mine.
Pyth.
You thinke me now not drunke; nor that I haue li'd.
Tis now most cleare the poore Wench is deflour'd.
Phae.

Fie beast, beleeu'st him?

Pyth.
What neede I
Beleeue him?
The matter selfe proclaimes it.
Phae.
sirrha you,
Come hither (here you) yet a little nearer:
So, Tis well. Tell me againe, did Chaerea
Take your cloathes.
Dorus.

Yes.

Phae.

And put 'hem on him­selfe?

Dorus.

Yes

Phae.

And was brought for you to Thais?

Dorus.

Yes sir.

Phae.

Great Iupiter! oh wicked shamelesse fellow

Pyth.

Woes me; you scarce beleeue yet we a [...] abu'sd.

Phae.
Tis marle now, but thou credit's what he saies?
Ime at my wits end — Sirrha doost thou heare?
(Deni't being askd againe) can I no way
Worke a truth from thee? ha? didst see my brother?
Dorus.

Not I intruth.

Phae.
No truth, I see, vnforc'd
Can be got from him. Come, come in with me.
Now say things straight denie 'hem? (begge of me.)
Dorus.

For Gods sake sit

Phae.
Will you get in? Dorus
Hoy hey.
Phae
I know no meanes else how to shift away.
I stand in a faire case, if such a knaue
As thou, may thus befoole me at his pleasure.
(Exit. Phaedria and Dorus.
Pyth.
I know sure as I lieue, 't was Parmeno.
Complotted this.
Dorias.

Yes doubtlesse.

Pyth
Ere I sleepe
Ile find a meane how to crie quittance with him.
But what thinkest best we should do, Dorias?
Dorias.

Touching the wenchd'ye meane.

Pyth.
Yes, it't be best
To vtter or conceal't. Dorias If you be wise,
Know ought, know nought, touching the Eunuch selfe,
Or her abuse: so shall you keepe from blame;
And do her a good turne. You may say onely,
Dorus is runne away.
Pyth.

Ile eene do so.

Enter Chremes.
Dorus.
But see I not Chremes vonder? Thais straight
Will be here with vs.
Pyth.

Wherefore thinke you so?

Dorias.

Because when I came thence, they grew to brall.

Pyth.

Beare in the iewels: Ile of him learne all.

Exit Dorias.
Chr.
I, I, assure as heauen, I was but plaid on.
[Page 92]
The wine ore wrought me: yet while I was sitting
Me thought I was excedingly well temperd,
but rising found both feete and braines to saile
Pyth. Chremes. Chr.
Who's that? Oh Pythias how much
Fairer
Now seemst thou then crewhile.
Pyth.
You in good sooth
Are pleasanter by saire.
Chr.
Tis true and old,
Spare wine and dainties, sportfull lusts growes cold.
Ist long, since Thais came?
Pyth.
Hath she alreadie
Then left the souldier?
Chr.
oh yes long age.
And there has beene great falling out betweene 'hem.
Pyth.

Did she say nothing, you should follow her?

Chr.

Nothing, but at her parting winkd on me.

Pyth.

What, was not that sufficient Item man.

Chr.
I knew not that the meant so much, but that
The souldier helpd my dull conceiuing her;
Enter Thais.
For out o'doores he thrust me: see where she is
I maruell where it was, I ouer went her.

Scen. 6.

Thais
I guesse he will be here straight, with intent
To take her from me; let him come on then:
But if he laie on little singer on her,
Ile claw his eyes out. I can so farre beare
His fopperies, and swolne bumbasted words
Whil'st that they be but words: come they to deedes once,
Ile ferrit him.
Chr.

I was here long since Thais.

Thais.
Oh Chremes, I lookd for you. Know you not
That all this brabble hath beene about you?
Chr.

Me? how? as if I broacht it?

Tha.
Yes because
While I do seeke to render to your hands
Your long lost sister, this insued thereon.
Chr.

Where's that my sister?

Tha.

Here at home with [...]e.

Chr.

Ha!

Tha.
Why whats the matter? Shee'has been
Brought vp
As fits her selfe and you.
Chr.

What ist you say?

Thais.
That which is truth: freely giue her you.
Demanding nothing at your hands for her.
Chr.
I giue and owe you Thais many thankes
As you haue well deserued.
Tha.
But beware
Chremes, you lose her not, ere you receiue her:
For this is she the souldier comes to get
By maine force from me. Pythias get you in,
And fetch the little cofer with the tokens [...]
Chr.

Do you see him comming Thais?

Pyth.
Mistresse
Where is it?
Tha.

Ith'leatherne hamper: Makst thou no more haste queane?

Chr.

What forces dooes he bring with him? oh me.

Exit Pythias.
Tha.

Are you afraid friend?

Chr
A way, I afraid?
No man a liue lesse.
Tha.

I tis fit you be not.

Chr.

T'sh, I do doubt what man you take me for.

Tha.
No, but consider, he you are to deale with
Is a meere stranger, of lesse meanes, lesse knowne,
Lesse friended here then you.
Chr.
All this I know:
But yet tis follie to admit an euill
Which may be well preuented. I had rather,
We seeke aforehand to preuent a wrong,
Then to returne a suffered iniurie.
Do you get in; and then make fast your doores;
Whilst I haste ouer to the market place.
I will haue some assistants by, ith' tumult.
Tha.

Stay.

Chr.

Tis the safest course.

Tha.

Pray stay.

Chr.
Pray leaue.
Ile be here straight againe.
Tha.
Chremes this needes not,
Acquaint him onely that she is your sister,
Enter Pythias with a Coffer.
Which you a small girle lost; and now do know her:
Shew him the prouing tokens.
Pyth.

Here they are.

Tha.
Here take 'hem, if he offer violence,
Summon him to the law: conceaue you me?
Chr.

Yes very well.

Tha.

See you vtter it with courage.

Chr.

I warrant you.

Tha.
Pull vp your cloke there, to you.
Ime in a faire case: why, this man I make
My Champion, needes another him to backe.

Scen. 7.

Enter Traso, Gnato, Sanga, with three others.
Thra.
BRooke such a base assront? Ile die first, Gnato.
Simatio, Donax, and Syriscus follow:
The house Ile first dismantle —
Gna.

Aright course.

Thra.

Take thence the maid my hostage —

Gna.

Very Good.

Thra.

Make Thais feele my vengeance —

Gna.

Excellent.

Thra.
Donax come you here hither with your leauer,
Into the heart of my battalion:
Simatio fall you there on the left winge.
Wheele you about Syriscus to the right.
Draw out some more: where's Sanga the Centurion
With's band of the blacke guard.
Sang.

Here readie Captaine.

Thra.
Where are thy armes drone? wilt thou enter fight
With thy moppe there? that thou hast brought it hither?
Sang.
sir I but know the courage of my Chiestaine,
Or souldiers furie, that the day would cost
Much bloud shed, brought it here to cleanse the gore.
Thra.

Where are the rest there?

San.
what (a murraine) rest?
Samnio alone keeps home, to looke to th'house.
Thra.

Do you rancke these; Ile march behind the Van.

Gna.
Note sirs his wisedome! hauing rank'd the rest,
Himselfe retireth to safe place for shelter.
Thr.

'Twas Pyrthus vsuall practise.

Chr.
Thais, see you
[Page 95]
What he intends? that sure's the safest way,
To locke vp doores.
Tha.
This fellow (lassure thee)
Thou deem'st a man of spirit is a gull;
A pure great goosecappe: nere make doubt of him.
Thra.

What thinks thou Gnato.

Gna.
I could wish you had
A sling stone here, to gall 'hem a loose off:
They'ld straight forsake their Castle.
Thra
But I see
Thais her selfe.
Gna.

Let's straight rush in vpon them.

Thra.
Forbeare: A discreete generall should cast
To winne his aymes by treatie, ere he put
The hazard vnto battell. How doost know
But she may do my biddings, vncompell'd?
Gna.
Oh you good Gods! what tis to be distreeter
I nere come to you, but I do depart
Much betterd in my iudgement.
Thra.
Thais, first
Answer me this, when I bestowd on you,
The maid, assure you not your companie
To me for certaine dayes.
Tha.

Well, what o'that?

Thra.
Askest thou what? that broughst before mine eyes
Thy louer? (what hast thou to do with him?)
And with him sneak'st from me?
Tha.

It was my pleasure.

Thra.
Restore now therefore Pamphila, vnlesse
You'l haue me force her from you.
Chr.
How, to thee
Restore her? or dar'st thou lay hands on her?
Thou? of all —
Gna.
Haue care good sir, you know not
What kinde of man you speake so grossely to.
Chr.
Will you get hence? know you how stands your case?
If you disturbe vs here, Ile giue you cause
To thinke vpon this time, this place, and me:
Whil'st you haue day to liue;
Gna.
I pittie you,
That seeke to make so great a man your soe.
Chr.

Ile cracke your crowne sir if you get not hence.

Gna.

How whelpe, what saist?

Thr.
Why what art thou?
What mean'st?
What bus'nesse hast thou with her?
Chr.
Thou shalt know
[Page 96]
First I affirme the maiden is free borne.
Thr.

How?

Chr.

Free of Athens.

Thra.

Hoida!

Chr.
And my sister.
I therefore now forwarne thee souldier,
Thou vse no force against her. Thais, He go
And fetch her Nurse Sophrona hither straight;
And shew her these remembrances.
Thra.
Doost thou
Forewarne me that I should not touch my owne?
Chr.

I say I do forewarne thee.

Gna.
Here you sir,
You haue good action of deceit against him.
Chr.

Said I enough?

Thra.

Say you so Thais too?

Exit Chremes.
Tha.

Seeke one to answer.

Thra.
What's our course
Now Gnato?
Exit Thais.
Gna.
Why let's retreat: sheel straight come after you,
Crouching and kneeling.
Thra.

Thinkst so?

Gna.
Nay
That's sure.
I am acquainted with these womens humors:
Sue, they are squeamish; if you keepe off, they sue.
Thra.

Thou deem'st aright.

Gna.
Shall I dismisse the
Armie?
Thra.

I, when thou please.

Gna.
Sanga, as fits good soul­diers,
Cast now your eyes backe on the household chimnels
Sang.

My minde was long ago among the platters

Gna.

Th'art carefull,

Thra.

All follow me this way in.

Exeunt all.

Act. 5.

Scen. 1.

Enter Thais and Pythias.
Tha.
COntinuest drabbe to talke in riddles to me?
I know, I know not, heard so, he is gone,
I was not by —. Wilt thou not in plaine tearmes
Tell me the matter? the maides cloathes are torne,
She weepes and silent keepes, the Eunuch gon.
Why this? what's chanc'd? speakest not?
Pyth.
Woes mee
Poore soule!
What should I say? they say he was no Eunuch.
Tha.

who then?

Pyth.

This Chaerea here.

Tha.

which Chaerea?

Pyth.

This younger brother vnto Phaedria.

Tha.

What saist witch?

Pyth.

I haue found it certaine so.

Tha.
Why what a gods name had he here to do?
Or why was hither brought?
Pyth.
I cannot tell,
But that I guesse he loued Pamphila.
Tha.
I find my selfe accursed wretch vndone,
If this be true thou vtterst. Ist for that,
The wench so weepes?
Pyth.

I thinke so.

Tha.
Thinkst so hegge?
Was this the charge I left you at my parting?
Pyth.
What should I do? I left 'him both alone
As you did bidde.
Tha.
Vnluckie queane, thou left's
A lambe to the woolfe: oh I am asham'd,
Enter Chaerea in the Eunuchs cloathes.
So to be plaid on. What man haue we here?
Pyth.
Mistresse, for Gods loue peace; we are well
W'haue caught
The man.
Tha.

Where is he?

Pyth.
Looke to your left hand.
Do you not see him?
Tha.

Yes.

Pyth.
Call out for helpe;
To lay hold on him with all speede you can.
Tha.

What shall's do with him foole?

Pyth.
What do, [...]'you aske?
[Page 98]
Pray marke if when you wistlie eye the fellow,
Has not a ashamelesse leere?
Tha.

No, has he not.

Pyth.

Note with what confidence my man struts too.

Scen. 2.

Chae.
AS I but now to Antiphoes did come,
His father and his mother were at home;
As if't had beene so plotted so that in
I could not enter butt I must be seene.
Whil'st here about the doore a while I stay,
One that I knew came but into my way:
I him espying hastily betooke
Me to my heeles; and fled into a nooke
Was vnfrequented: so from place to place
Posted, till I to death nigh wearied was:
And this I did, least any should me know.
But is not this Thais, I see? tis she:
I sticke ith'mire; nor know I what to do.
But what care I? what dare she do to me?
Tha.
Let's to him. O, you are well met honest Dorus.
Tell me, didst runne away?
Chae.

Mistresse I did.

Tha.

And was it well done, thinkst thou?

Chae.

no forsooth.

Tha.

Thinkst to go with't scot free so away?

Chae.
Forgiue me but this one fault, if I euer
Commit the like againe, then kill me for't.
Tha.

Didst feare my curstnesse?

Chae.

No.

Tha.

What Feardst thou then?

Chae.

I feard your maid here would tell tales of me.

Tha.

What hadst thou done?

Chae.

A [...].

Pyth.
Impudence
A trifle? is't a trifle in thine eye
To take a freeborne maid, and rauish her?
Chae.

I tooke her for my fellow seruant.

Pyth.
Fellow?
I searse can hold my singers from his eares.
Monster art come againe, to flout vs too?
Tha.

Get you hence Bedlam.

Pyth.
Pray forsooth, why so?
I thinke I ow't the gallowes, if I do
As I do threaten; and the rather too,
Because he does confesse he's slaue to you.
Tha.

No more of this. Chaerea, you haue committed

An act faire vnbeseeming that faire port
Your selfe and friends here beare; say the scorne fitted
And to my course of life did rustly sorte:
Yet for your owne worth you should haue forborne.
Nor truely know I now what course to frame
Touching the maid; you haue disorderd so
All my proceedings, I cannot returne
Her to her friends, as I desird the same;
And as was fitting for the maid to goe:
So that both maid and friends I might haue made
Beholding to me, by the course I laid.
Chae.
Thais, but now I hope hencefoorth will grow
Fast loue betweene vs: oftentimes you know
From bad beginnings, slight occasion,
Great loue hath had its deriuation.
What, if some higher powers did thus decree?
Tha.
In such sense I do take it verily;
And so do wish't.
Chae.
Pray one thing reckon right
No purposd scorne, but loues imperiall mihght
Then swayd my passions.
Tha.
I beleeue 'twas so;
And truly therefore pardon you the rather:
I am not (Chaerea) of such stubborne nature,
Nor so vnskild as loues power not to know.
Chae.
So helpe me God as I now grow in loue
With you to Thais.
Pyth.
Then mistresse I perceaue
You ought to watch him.
Chae.

O, I dare not prooue.

Pyth.

Introth le trust thee for iust nothing.

Tha.

Leaue.

Chae.
Thais, I do commend, commit my selfe
To your protection; begge your helpe herein;
Desire, beseech you'l stand my Patronesse.
[Page 100]
I cannot liue if I not marrie her.
Tha.

But if your father—

Chae
Tsh, what? I know he will—
So she be knowne freeborne.
Chae.
If you please stay
A little, the maides brother will be here;
He went to call the nurse that nur'st her young:
You may be by at her acknowledging.
Chae.

Yes, I will stay.

Tha.
And in the meane time will You.
(Till he do come) we go into my house?
Tis better then at doore here waiting stand.
Cha.

With all my heart.

Pyth.

Pray what d'ye meane to do?

Tha.

In what?

Pyth.
D'you aske? meane you for all this yet
To let him come againe into the house?
Tha.

Why not?

Pyth.
Take my word for't, h'le aduenture
Some second battrie.
Tha.

Prithee hold'thy chat.

Pyth.

Ha'you not had sufficient triall of him?

Chae.

I will not, Pythias.

Pyth.
Ile not trust you, Chaerea.
Vnlesse you be kept out.
Chae.
But (Pythias)
Thy selfe shalt be my keeper
Pyth.
Troth not I:
Ile neither trust thee with the custodie
Of any thing, not keepe thee yet my selfe.
Enter Chremes and Sophrona,
So get you hence.
Tha.

Her brother's fitly come.

Chae.
I'm lost, pray let vs in, I would not (Thais)
He see me in this habite in the streete.
Tha.

Why, art asham'd?

Chae.

Yes truth.

Pyth.
Yes truth? alacke!
A maiden batchelor I warrant you.
Tha.
Go in before, I follow. Pythias
Tarrte you here, to bring in Chremes with you.
Exeunt Chaerea and Thais.

Scen. 3.

Pyth.
WHat, can I thinke of no plot, no deuice,
No tricke to erie quittance with this rascall?
[Page 101]
That foisted in this counterfeit among vs?
Chae.

Pray moue your ioynts a little nimbler ruise.

Soph.

I mone sir.

Chae.

I, I see't; but nothing forward.

Pyth.

Haue you yet shewn the tokens to her sir?

Chae.

Yes, all.

Pyth.

What sayes she, pray? remembers them?

Chae.

Yes perfectly.

Pyth.
In troth you bring good newes,
For Ido wish the maid well. Pray go in;
Exit Chremes and Sophrona
My mistresse long since did expect your comming.
Enter Parmeno.
But see the honest fellow Parmeno,
I thinke I haue found a tricke to nettle him,
As I would wish. Ile first go in and heare
The maides acknowledgement; and againe come foorth
To fright the rogue with a fine pennie worth.
Exit Pythias.

Scen. 4.

Par.
I Now scout out, to see what Chaerea has done:
Who if he haue the businesse cleanely handled,
Good gods! What glorious palme haue I then wonne?
For to omit, that I a cafeintangled
Haue wound out fairely to his hand; haue wrought,
Haue compassed his loue, his wench, a maid
He so did dote on: and yet cost him nought,
(No purse expence, no trouble, hazard made;)
And from a greedie harlot. Then agen
Enter Pythias.
(Which I indeed accompt my Masters prise)
That I haue found him out a readie meane,
To learne these strumpets manners and full guise:
Which ripely vnderstood, he may for euer
Detest their courses: when abroad they git,
None are more neate and sweete in their behauiour,
They mince and picke vpon each daintie bit;
[Page 102]
(With their friend eating such is their demeanor.)
And then to note their greedie rauening,
Their sluttishnesse, their penurie at home;
What nastie Cormorants they are alone;
Out of stale porrage musty bread deuouring:
These things are youths true cordialls being knowne.

Scen. 5.

Pyth.
ROague for thy deeds & words Ile plague thee so.
Thou shalt not for our wrongs hece scot-free go.
Your mercie oh good gods' oh cruell practise!
Alas poore youth! but ô that cursed vilaine!
That vilaine Parmeno, that brought him hither!
Par.

What may the matter be?

Pyth.
It pitties me;
Therefore I hasted out o' doores, poore woman:
Because I would not see't. Oh, what example
(Say the) they do intend to make of him?
Par.
ô God! What strange stirre's this? am not I lost, trow?
Ile to her. What meanes this flight, Pythias?
Pyth.
Doost aske audacious fellow? whilst thou soughtst
To put a tricke vpon vs, th'hast vndone,
Hast vterly vndone that prettie youth,
Thou broughtest vs for an Eunuch.
Par.

why, what's chāc'd?

Pyth.
Doost know the maid was sent vs is free borne?
And has a brother here of great accompt?
Par.

I know't not.

Pyth.
But she's prou'd so: this poore youth
Has rauisht her; which when her brother heard of.
Comming in furious heate—
Par.

What did he do?

Pyth.

First piteously has bound him.

Par.

Ha, has Bound him?

Pyth.

I, although Thais beggd the contrarie.

Par.

What sayst

Pyth.
And now he further threatneth
To vse him in such sort, as is the wont
To be perform'd vpon adulterers.
Par.
Vpon what confidence dare he venture
So heynous an attempt?
Pyth.

Why, is 't so heynous?

Par.
Is't not the heynousest that can be thought on?
Who euer saw any one apprehended
For an adulterer in a bawdie house?
Pyth.

I know not that.

Par.
But that thou maist know't
I tell thee (Pythias) tis my Masters sonne.
Prth.

What, ist I pray?

Par.
Therefore let Thais looke then,
She suffer him sustaine no iniurie.
But why do I my selfe not reseue him?
Pyth.
Parmeno consider what you go about.
Lest you not helpe him, and yet cast away
Your selfe foreuer. For they do imagine
That all is done is of your practising.
Enter the all man, Lacher.
Par.
What shall I do then wretch? or what contriue.
But lo, I see my old Master newly come
Out o'the countrey: were I best acquaint him
What is befalne or not? Ile tell him, sure;
Though I do know, I shall pay soundly for it.
But I must doot, that he may helpe his sonne.
Pyth.
I, thou doost wisely. Ile goe in. Deline.
Euery thing to him, as it chanc'd in order.

Scen. 6.

Lach.
MY Country grange yeelds this commoditie,
I find no irk somnesse in field, or citie:
I can shift place, being of either wearie.
But is not yond our Parmeno? tis he.
Who waite you here for before Thais doore?
Par.

Who's thats oh Master' you are wellcome home.

Lach.

Who wait'st thou here for?

Par.
I'm vndone, my Tongue
Falters for scare.
Lach.
How's this? why shakst thou so?
[Page 104]
Tell me, 's all well here?
Par.
Master first I craue
You would conceiue the matter as it stands:
That what so ere hath happend, hath not come
Through any fault of mine.
Lach.

Say, what it is?

Par.
Indeede you vrge the question orderly:
I should haue first opend the cause to you.
Phaedria bought an Eunuch to bestow
vpon her here
Lach.

Vpon whom here?

Par.

Thais.

Lach.
Bought saist thou? I am certainely vndone.
What cost he?
Par.

Twentie pound.

Lach.

All's lost.

Par.

Chaerea doos loue a minstrell wench here.

Lach.
Ha! Besides
What, loues saist thou? doos he alreadie know
What a whore meanes? is he got to towne too?
One mischiefe broodes another.
Par.
Pray you sir
Do not so eye me. This he dooes not do
vpon my setting on.
Lach.
Sirtha, leaue talke
Touching thy selfe. If I liue (pillorie)
Ile-but vnfold first th' whole bus'nesse to me.
Par.

Chaerea was brought to Thais for that Eunuch.

Lach.

How! for an Eunuch?

Par.
Yes sir, afterward
They haue taken him for an adulterer;
And bound him.
Lach.

Oh, I'm undone for euer.

Par.

Pray note (good sir) these strumpets insolence.

Lach.
Is there yet any further mischiefe left,
Or ill vnutterd.
Par.

This is all.

Lach.
Why stay I
From breaking in vpon 'hem?
Par.
There's no doubt
But I incurre some famous punishment:
But since I must do't of necessitie,
I ioy yet I shall worke these queanes some mischiefe.
For th'old man long hath sought occasion
To plague'hem soundly: now at last has found one.
Enter Pythias.

Scen. 7.

Pyth.
TRroth for this many aday there has not chanced
An accident more pleasant then this now;
To see the old man come in so mistaken:
'T was sport to me alone of all the rest,
Who knew the ground of th' error. ha, ha, he.
Par.

What ist she laughes at?

Pyth.
I'm come forth to
With Parmeno, but where a Gods name is he?
Par.

Doos she seeke me?

Pyth.

See where he is, Ile to him meete

Par

What newes with thee now Giglet?

Pyth.

Ha, ha, he.

Par.

What meanst thou? why this laughter? goest thou on?

Pyth.
Ha, ha, ha, he. Oh-oh-I burst, I faint
With laughing at thee.
Par.

Wherefore?

Pyth.
dost thou aske?
Vpon my troth I neuer in my life
Knew a more errand foole, nor euer shall.
Ha, ha, ha, he—it cannot be expressed
What pastime thou hast made vs yond' within:
And yet (good truth) at first I tooke thee for
A very wise and cunning pated fellow.
Par.

Why what's the matter?

Pyth.
What at the first dash
Oughtst thou to credit euery thing I said?
What didst thou thinke the brane exploit too little,
The rash youth ventred through thy setting on;
vnlesse thou further diddst discouer him
vnto his father? prithe, tell me one thing;
What thinkst thou Cherea thought, when now his father
Found him so fine drest in an Eunuchs habit?
How ist? seest thou yet, thou art ripe for hanging?
Par.

How? what saist thou pestilent queane, diddst lye then?

Pyth.

Ha, ha, ha, he.

Par.
And keep'st a laughing still too?
Thinkst thou tis such fine pastime (harlotrie)
To make a scorne of me?
Pyth.

ô yes; sport a life.

Par

I, if perchance thou carry't away, scotfree.

Pyth

Indeede la?

Par.

Ile crie quittance o' my credit.

Pyth.
Yes sure. We shall haue, time yet, Parmeno:
For thee, thou art to be truss'd vp presently;
Who fleshest heedlesse youth in vilanie
And then betraist him to discouerie.
Father and sonne will both make thee an example.
Par.

I am a dead man.

Pyth.
Looke you' this y'haue got
For the Eunuch you late vsherd home to vs.
Exit Pythias.
Farewell.
Par.
Vnluckie I am caught iust like a rat,
Trac'd by my noise, mine owne vnheedie chart
Enter thraso and Gnato.

Scen. 8.

Gna.
VVHat do we now? on what hopes? or with what Purpose
Do we come hither? what intend you Traso?
Thr.
Who, I to yeeld my selfe to Thais mercie,
Do all she shall inioyne.
Gna.

What ist you say?

Thr.
Why Hesse, then the valiant Hercuies,
Who condiscended to serue [...]?
Gna.
I like the precedent Wo [...]ld I yet might see
Her cracke your crowne once with her pantefle.
Enter Chaerea.
What newes? her doore opes.
Thr.
what new mischief's this?
I nere saw this man yet: what may it meane,
That he comes foorth so hastily and iocond?

Scen. 9.

Chae.
OH louing countriemen, liues any man
More happie then my selfe? troth, I thinke none
The Gods haue shewne all their full might on me,
On whom so sodainely so many chances,
So many prosperous chances meete in one.
Par.

Why is he growne so merie?

Gnae.
Oh my dearest,
[Page 107]
My kindest Parmeno' first fashioner,
Contriuer, finisher, of all my fortunes;
All my contentments. Knowest thou Parmeno
What ioy I am in? hearest thou my Pamphila
Is found to be free borne?
Par.

Yes; I haue heard so.

Chae.

Made sure to me?

Par.

As God shall helpe me, I'm Glad ont.

Gna.

do y' heare him what he saies?

Chae.
I ioy beside
My brother Chedria's loue is now faire setled:
W'are made one house; Thais hath giu'n vp her selfe
Vnto my fathers kindnesse and protection:
Shee's now our owne.
Par.

Then she is all your brothers.

Chae.

That's most certaine.

Par.
Then (that's other cause
The sculdier is cashierd hence.
Chae.
now I prithee (of ioy)
Giue thou my brother notice of this newes,
Where ere he may be found; and speedily.
Par.

Ile seeke for him at home.

Thr.
Doost thou now Gnato
Make any doubt, but I am lost for euer?
Gna.

Sure I iudge so

Chae.
What should I first count on?
Whom chiefely praise? or him that counseld me
Or yet my selfe that venturd the performance?
Or shall I not yeeld fortune share of praise,
Which guided these things thus? Which in one day
Hath closed vp so many, so great things,
And all so timely orderd? or the easie
And pleasant disposition of my father?
Oh I beseech thee, gratious Iu [...]ter.
Continue to vs this our happinesse
Enter Phaedria.
Phae.
Your faith good Gods! What things aboue beleefe
Hath our man told me? but where is my brother?
Cha.

Here.

Pha.

I am lad—

Chae.
I well beleeue you, brother
There is none liuing more deseruing loue
Then this your Thais: she's a furtherer
To all our family
Pha.
Why, how now brother,
Commendst thou her to me?
Thr.
I am vndone:
[Page 108]
The lesser hope I haue, the more I loue.
Helpe Gnato at a pinch; my trust's in thee.
Gna.

What wold you haue me do?

Thr.
Win by intreatie,
By money. I may hold some place neere Thais.
Gna.

Tis a hard taske.

Thr.
Come, I know thee Gnato.
If once thou vndertak'st a thing—worke this,
And name but what reward or gift thoult haue
And thou shalt hau't.
Gna.

Say you so?

Thr.

I, and will Performe it.

Gna.
If I performe it, I require your house
Do euer open rest at my command,
Be you within or not: that though vnbidden
I still haue roome and welcome giuen me
Thra

Here is my hand thou shalt.

Gna.
Then I will settle
To the attempt.
Phae.

Whom heare I here? ô Thraso!

Thra.

God saue you.

Phae.

Thou perhaps hear'st not the Newes?

Thra

Yes, I know all.

Phae.
Why do I see you then
Here in these quarters?
Thr.
Sir as resting onely
Vpon your loue.
Phae.
Know'st thou not, what to rest on?
I tell thee souldier, if I here hence forward
Do take thee in this streete; th'art a dead man:
It will auaile you little then to say
You sought some man, or were to passe this way.
Gna.

Nay good sir this not fitteth.

Phae.

I haue said it.

Gna.

I know you are not of such boistrous temper.

Phae.

It shall so stand.

Gna.
Pray yet first giue me hearing
Of a few words; which when I shall haue said
As you do like it, grant it.
Phae.

Well, let's heare.

Gna.
Thraso remoue your selfe a little of.
First I most earnestly request you both
Thus farre to credit me; that what herein
I do, is chiefely for my owne sake meant:
But if the same may likewise further you,
Twere simplenesse in you not to admit it.
Phae.

What ist?

Gna.
I thinke fit, you take vnto you
This riuall souldier.
Phae.

How saist? take him to vs?

Gna.
Pray but consider this; you Phaedria
Do surely loue your Thais companie,
And to fare well: little you haue to giue her,
And she of force must be supplied largely.
Now then to serue her turne, and spare your cost,
There's none can be more fitting, or more vsefull
Then is this souldier: first has where withall,
And then there's none more lauish the's a foole
A prating babling foole, a dolt, a blocke,
will snore you out whole dayes, and nights together.
And for the feare that she may happe to loue him,
That's needelesse: you may pelt him out at pleasure:
Phae.

What were we best to do?

Gna.
Then adde this too;
(Which I accompt a thing of greatest moment.)
None fares more richly, none more daintily.
Phae.
Its mar'le but we haue neede at any hand
Of this same fellow.
Chae.

That's my iudgement too.

Gna.
You take the right course. One thing more I beg,
I may be made one of your companie:
I haue beene long now rowling of this stone.
Phae.

We admit thee.

Chae.

Yes, and freely.

Gna.
Phaedria,
And haeria in requitall, twixt you both
I tender him to slout, and feede vpon.
Chae.

We like it.

Phae.

He deserues it [...]

Gna.
Thraso, now
You may draw neere at pleasure.
Thra.
Gnato, say
How stands my case?
Gna.
How? these men knew you not
After I told, hem your conditions,
Prais'd you according to your deeds and vertues;
I wonne my sute.
Thra.
It was well done, I thanke thee
I neuer yet could come in any place
But all men doated on me.
Gna.
Said I not:
How gracefull was his tongue for eloquence?
Phae.

Thou left'st out nothing. Passe we this way hence.

Exeunt all but Gnato.

Addition. Epilogue by Gnato.

AThens and Rome full many ages hence
Haue through Menanders, Plautus, Lerence Art
(In seuerall names but sounding to one sence)
Seene this our Eunuch, grac'd the slatterers part.
Those Greeke and Latine playes had their desart,
Earning loude plaudits from their audience.
Our English Author (h'has no Poets name,
Nor (sayes he) may he dare such stile to take)
Puts me vpon the brunt to stand the blame:
Himselfe not venturing his approach to make,
Nor to your censure his raw skill to stake.
He thinkes me now wrought, past all feare and shame.
But I the name and nature here cast off:
I see amongst you no proud souldier,
No selfe blowne bladder, I may pricke or scoffe.
Our Nation is not guiltie of the former,
Nor could I well play the flatterer:
No maile if I the name now seeke to dosse
Yet though I dosse the fawne; still bend I low,
Crauing your gentle pardon for vs all,
And thanke you for your patience hitherto
So kindely showne to vs in generall.
Oh, would you deigne some further grace withall
Vpon our swouning writer to bestow;
He dyes in feare least you mislike his paine,
Your well clap'd hands call him to life againe.
FINIS

Faults escaped in Andria.

PAge 1. l 3. I thinke, r. Sir thinke. p. 2. l. 20. one some, 1. some one. p. 8 l. 23. round abouts, r. windeabouts. p. 9. l. 25. nothing, r. noting. p, 36. l. 1. now I, r. I. l. 16. leaue the course, r. I leaue. p. 39 l. 6. this the, r. tis the p. 17. l. 22. ought, r. oft. p. 49. O Charinus, r. who's that Oh Charinus.

Eunuch.

Argument l. 56 hath downe, r. hath set downe. Char. of Au. l. 7 stragling, r. strugling. Pro. l. 64. playes, r. play. Ac. 1. S. 1. l. 10. not one, r. one. betweene 14 and 15 line, put in this verse, You are cast in Law, you may goe shake the care. l. 29 shee it. r. shee yet. l 32. shall allay, r. sheel allay, S. 2. l. 87 louely woman, r. lonely woman. l. 88. kinsmen, 1. kinsman. l. 112. and Eu. an Eu. l. 113. great Ladies haue, r. great Ladies onely haue. Act. 2. Sc. 3. l. vlt. his souldiers, r. the souldiers Sc. 5. l. 70. I wormeling, r. I a wormeling l. 99 whom, r. home. Ac 4 Sc. 2 l 3 ought, r. oft. l. 10. torne, r. turne. l. 12. be pent, r. here be pent. Sc. 3. l. 35. and accident, r. an accident l. 68. i [...] be, r. if 't be. l. 7. Simatio & Sannto, r. Si­matio and Sannto l. 14. but, r. that. l. 15. or Souldiers, r. our Souldiers l. 27. thinkes, r. Thinkst l. 39. assure, r. assur'd. Act. 5. sc. 1. l. 19. lest 'him. reade, left 'hem. pag. 104. l. 6. he cause. reade, case, l. 18. Ile-but, r. I'l—, But.

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