Part 48 (1/2)

Parents, a prosp'rous country, friends, birth, riches.

Yet these all take their value from the mind Of the possessor: he that knows their use, To him they're blessings; he that knows it not, To him misuse converts them into curses.

c.l.i.t. Nay, but he ever was a cross old man: And now there's nothing that I dread so much, As lest he be transported in his rage To some gross outrages against his son.

CHREM. He!--He!--But I'll contain myself. 'Tis good For Menedemus that his son should fear. (_Aside._)

c.l.i.t. What say you, Sir, within yourself! (_Overhearing._)

CHREM. I say, Be't as it might, the son should have remain'd.

Grant that the father bore too strict a hand Upon his loose desires; he should have borne it.

Whom would he bear withal, if not a parent?

Was't fitting that the father should conform To the son's humor, or the son to his?

And for the rigor that he murmurs at, 'Tis nothing: the severities of fathers, Unless perchance a hard one here and there, Are much the same: they reprimand their sons For riotous excesses, wenching, drinking; And starve their pleasures by a scant allowance.

Yet this all tends to good: but when the mind Is once enslav'd to vicious appet.i.tes, It needs must follow vicious measures too.

Remember then this maxim, c.l.i.tipho, A wise one 'tis to draw from others' faults A profitable lesson for yourself.

c.l.i.t. I do believe it.

CHREM. Well, I'll in, and see What is provided for our supper: you, As the day wears, see that you're not far hence. (_Exit._

[Changes:

_Harper_ That I, and under my own roof, had been _Colman 1768_ That I, and under my own roof, might be]

SCENE IV.

_c.l.i.tIPHO alone._

What partial judges of all sons are fathers!

Who ask gray wisdom from our greener years, And think our minds should bear no touch of youth; Governing by their pa.s.sions, now kill'd in them, And not by those that formerly rebell'd.

If ever I've a son, I promise him He shall find me an easy father; fit To know, and apt to pardon his offenses!

Not such as mine, who, speaking of another, Shows how he'd act in such a case himself: Yet when he takes a cup or two too much, Oh, what mad pranks he tells me of his own: But warns me now ”to draw from others' faults A profitable lesson for myself.”

Cunning old gentleman! he little knows, He pours his proverbs in a deaf man's ear.

The words of Bacchis, _Give me, Bring me_, now Have greater weight with me: to whose commands, Alas! I've nothing to reply withal; Nor is there man more wretched than myself.

For Clinia here (though he, I must confess, Has cares enough) has got a mistress, modest, Well-bred, and stranger to all harlot arts: Mine is a self-will'd, wanton, haughty madam, Gay, and extravagant; and let her ask Whate'er she will, she must not be denied; Since poverty I durst not make my plea.

This is a plague I have but newly found, Nor is my father yet appris'd of it.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.