View:
By Scene
1378
(Enter a BOY from the house of PERIPLECOMENUS.)
A BOY.
(to some one within.)
Don’t you be advising me; I remember my duty; this moment I’ll find him. Wherever on earth he may chance to be,
I’ll search him out; I’ll not be sparing of my pains.
1380
Don’t you be advising me; I remember my duty; this moment I’ll find him. Wherever on earth he may chance to be,
I’ll search him out; I’ll not be sparing of my pains.
1380
PYRGOPOLINICES
’Tis I he is looking for, I’ll go and meet this boy.
’Tis I he is looking for, I’ll go and meet this boy.
A BOY.
O, I’m looking for you; save you, dearest sir, one loaded by opportunity with her gifts, and whom before all others two Divinities do favour.
O, I’m looking for you; save you, dearest sir, one loaded by opportunity with her gifts, and whom before all others two Divinities do favour.
PYRGOPOLINICES
What two?
What two?
A BOY.
Mars and Venus.
Mars and Venus.
PYRGOPOLINICES
A sprightly boy.
1385
A sprightly boy.
1385
A BOY.
She entreats that you will go in; she wishes—she longs for you, and while expecting you, she’s dying for you. Do succour one in love. Why do you stay? Why don’t you go in?
She entreats that you will go in; she wishes—she longs for you, and while expecting you, she’s dying for you. Do succour one in love. Why do you stay? Why don’t you go in?
PYRGOPOLINICES
Well, I’ll go.
(Enters the house of PERIPLECOMENUS.)
Well, I’ll go.
A BOY.
There has he entangled himself at once in the toils. The snare is prepared: the old gentleman is standing at his post
1
to attack the letcher, who is so boastful of his good looks; who thinks that, whatever woman sees him, all are in love with him; whom all, both men and women, detest. Now I will on to the uproar; I hear a tumult within.
1390
There has he entangled himself at once in the toils. The snare is prepared: the old gentleman is standing at his post
1
to attack the letcher, who is so boastful of his good looks; who thinks that, whatever woman sees him, all are in love with him; whom all, both men and women, detest. Now I will on to the uproar; I hear a tumult within.
1390
Miles Gloriosus. Plautus. Henry Thomas Riley (Translator). London. 1912.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by NSF, NEH: Digital Libraries Initiative, Phase 2.