Part 98 (1/2)

LACH. Aye.

PHID. They never mind the G.o.ds, Nor do I think the G.o.ds mind them.

BACCH. Here are My waiting-women: take them, and extort By any kind of torment the truth from them.

--Our present business is, I take it, this: That I should win the wife of Pamphilus To return home; which so I but effect, I sha'n't regret the same of having done What others of my calling would avoid.

LACH. Phidippus, we've discover'd that in fact We both suspected our wives wrongfully.

Let's now try her: for if your wife perceives Her own suspicions also are unjust, She'll drop her anger. If my son's offended Because his wife conceal'd her labor from him, That's but a trifle; he'll be soon appeas'd.

--And truly I see nothing in this matter That need occasion a divorce.

PHID. 'Fore Heaven, I wish that all may end well.

LACH. Here she is: Examine her; she'll give you satisfaction.

PHID. What needs all this to Me! You know my mind Already, Laches: do but make them easy.

LACH. Bacchis, be sure you keep your promise with me.

BACCH. Shall I go in then for that purpose?

LACH. Aye.

Go in; remove their doubts, and satisfy them.

BACCH. I will; although I'm very sure my presence Will be unwelcome to them; for a wife, When parted from her husband, to a mistress Is a sure enemy.

LACH. They'll be your friends, When once they know the reason of your coming.

PHID. Aye, aye, they'll be your friends, I promise you, When they once learn your errand; for you'll free Them from mistake, yourself from all suspicion.

BACCH. I'm cover'd with confusion. I'm asham'd To see Philumena.-- (_To her women._) You two in after me.

(_Exeunt PHIDIPPUS, BACCHIS, etc._

_LACHES alone._

What is there that could please me more than this, That Bacchis, without any loss, should gain Favor from them, and do me service too?

For if she really has withdrawn herself From Pamphilus, it will increase, she knows, Her reputation, interest, and honor: Since by this generous act she will at once Oblige my son, and make us all her friends. (_Exit._

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

_PARMENO alone._

I' faith my master holds my labor cheap, To send me to the Citadel for nothing, Where I have waited the whole day in vain For his Myconian, Callidemides.

There was I sitting, gaping like a fool, And running up, if any one appear'd, --”Are you, Sir, a Myconian?”--”No, not I.”---- --”But your name's Callidemides?”--”Not it.”---- ”And have not you a guest here of the name Of Pamphilus?”--All answer'd, No.

In short, I don't believe there's such a man.

At last I grew asham'd, and so sneak'd off.