(Enter DEMEA, on the other side of the stage.)
DEMEA
(to himself.)
I certainly am an unfortunate man. In the first place, I can find my brother nowhere; and then, in the next place, while looking for him, I met a day-laborer
1
from the farm; he says that my son is not in the country, and what to do I know not—
540
CTESIPHO
(apart.)
Syrus!
SYRUS
(apart.)
What’s the matter?
CTESIPHO
(apart.)
Is he looking for me?
SYRUS
(apart.)
Yes.
CTESIPHO
(apart.)
Undone!
SYRUS
(apart.)
Nay, do be of good heart.
DEMEA
(to himself.)
Plague on it! what ill luck is this? I can not really account for it,
unless I suppose myself only born for the purpose of enduring misery. I am the first to feel our misfortunes; the first to know of them all; then the first to carry the news; I am the only one, if any thing does go wrong, to take it to heart.
545
SYRUS
(apart.)
I’m amused at him; he says that he is the first to know of every thing, while he is the only one ignorant of every thing.
DEMEA
(to himself.)
I’ve now come back; and I’ll go see whether perchance my brother has yet returned.
CTESIPHO
(apart.)
Syrus,
pray do take care that he doesn’t suddenly rush in upon us here.
550
SYRUS
(apart.)
Now will you hold your tongue? I’ll take care.
CTESIPHO
(apart.)
Never this day will I depend on your management for that, upon my faith;
for I’ll shut myself up with her in some cupboard
2
—that’s the safest.
(Goes into the house.)
SYRUS
(apart.)
Do so, still I’ll get rid of him.
DEMEA
(seeing SYRUS.)
But see! there’s that rascal, Syrus.
SYRUS
(aloud, pretending not to see DEMEA.)
Really, upon my faith, no person can stay here, if this is to be the case!
For my part, I should like to know how many masters I have—what a cursed condition this is
555
DEMEA
What’s he whining about? What does he mean? How say you, good sir, is my brother at home?
SYRUS
What the plague do you talk to me about,
good sir? I’m quite distracted!
DEMEA
What’s the matter with you?
SYRUS
Do you ask the question? Ctesipho has been beating me, poor wretch, and that Music-girl, almost to death.
DEMEA
Ha! what is it you tell me?
SYRUS
Aye, seehow he has cut my lip.
(Pretends to point to it.)
DEMEA
For what reason?
560
SYRUS
He says that she was bought by my advice.
DEMEA
Did not you tell me, a short time since, that you had seen him on his way into the country?
SYRUS
I did; but he afterward came back, raving like a madman; he spared nobody—ought he not to have been ashamed to beat an old man? Him whom, only the other day, I used to carry about in my arms when thus high?
(Showing.)
DEMEA
I commend him; O Ctesipho, you take after your father. Well, I do pronounce you a man.
SYRUS
Commend him? Assuredly he will keep his hands to himself in future, if he’s wise.
565
DEMEA
’Twas done with spirit.
SYRUS
Very much so, to be beating a poor woman, and me, a slave, who didn’t dare strike him in return; heyday! very spirited indeed!
DEMEA
He could not have done better; he thought the same as I did, that you were the principal in this affair. But is my brother within?
SYRUS
He is not.
DEMEA
I’m thinking where to look for him.
SYRUS
I know where he is—but I shall not tell you at present.
570
DEMEA
Ha! what’s that you say?
SYRUS
I do say so.
DEMEA
Then I’ll break your head for you this instant.
SYRUS
I can’t tell the person’s name he’s gone to, but I know the place where he lives.
DEMEA
Tell me the place then.
SYRUS
Do you know the portico down this way, just by the shambles?
(Pointing in the direction.)
DEMEA
How should I but know it?
SYRUS
Go straight along, right up that street; when you come there,
there is a descent right opposite that goes down-ward, go straight down that; afterward, on this side
(extending one hand), there is a chapel: close by it is a narrow lane,
575
where there’s also a great wild fig-tree.
DEMEA
I know it.
SYRUS
Go through that—
DEMEA
But that lane is not a thoroughfare.
SYRUS
I’ faith, that’s true; dear, dear, would you take me to be in my senses?
3
I made a mistake. Return to the portico;
indeed that will be a much nearer way, and there is less going round about you know the house of Cratinus, the rich man?
580
DEMEA
I know it.
SYRUS
DEMEA
What is he doing there?
SYRUS
He has given some couches to be made, with oaken legs, for use in the open air.
6
585
DEMEA
For you to carouse upon! Very fine ! But why do I delay going to him?
(Exit.)
SYRUS
for I’ll be off at once, and pick out the very nicest bit, and, leisurely sipping my cups,
9
I’ll lengthen out the day.
590
(Goes into the house.)
Adelphi. Publius Terentius Afer (Terence). Henry Thomas Riley (Translator), George Colman (Translator). New York. 1874.
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