The Comedies of Terence Part 120

PHOR. Ha!--If I don't take care I'm ruin'd still.

They're growing desperate, and making tow'rd me With a determin'd gladiatorial air.

CHREM. (_to DEMIPHO_). I fear she'll ne'er forgive me.

DEM. Courage, Chremes!

I'll reconcile her to't; especially The mother being dead and gone.

PHOR. Is this Your dealing, gentlemen? You come upon me Extremely cunningly.--But, Demipho, You have but ill consulted for your brother, To urge me to extremities.--And you, Sir (_to CHREMES_), When you have play'd the wh.o.r.emaster abroad; Having no reverence for your lady here, A woman of condition; wronging her After the grossest manner; come you now To wash away your crimes with mean submission?

No.--I will kindle such a flame in her, As, though you melt in tears, you sha'n't extinguish.

DEM. A plague upon him! was there ever man So very impudent?--A knave! he ought To be transported at the public charge Into some desert.

CHREM. I am so confounded, I know not what to do with him.

DEM. I know.

Bring him before a judge!

PHOR. Before a judge?

A lady-judge; in here, Sirs, if you please.

DEM. Run you and hold him, while I call her servants.

CHREM. I can not by myself; come up and help me.

PHOR. I have an action of a.s.sault against you. (_To DEMIPHO._)

CHREM. Bring it!

PHOR. Another against you too, Chremes!

DEM. Drag him away! (_Both lay hold of him._)

PHOR. (_struggling_). Is that your way with me!

Then I must raise my voice.--Nausistrata!

Come hither.

CHREM. Stop his mouth!

DEM. (_struggling_). A st.u.r.dy rogue!

How strong he is!

PHOR. (_struggling_). Nausistrata, I say.

Nausistrata!

CHREM. (_struggling_). Peace, Sirrah!

PHOR. Peace, indeed!

DEM. Unless he follows, strike him in the stomach!

PHOR. Aye, or put out an eye!--But here comes one Will give me full revenge upon you both.

SCENE II.

_To them NAUSISTRATA._

NAUS. Who calls for me?

CHREM. Confusion!

NAUS. (_to CHREMES_). Pray, my dear, What's this disturbance?

PHOR. Dumb, old Truepenny!

NAUS. Who is this man?--Why don't you answer me? (_To CHREMES._)

PHOR. He answer you! he's hardly in his senses.

CHREM. Never believe him!

PHOR. Do but go and touch him; He's in a s.h.i.+vering fit, I'll lay my life.

CHREM. Nay----

NAUS. But what means he then?

PHOR. I'll tell you, madam; Do but attend!

CHREM. Will you believe him then?

NAUS. What is there to believe, when he says nothing?

PHOR. Poor man! his fear deprives him of his wits.

NAUS. (_to CHREMES_). I'm sure you're not so much afraid for nothing.

CHREM. What! I afraid? (_Endeavoring to take heart._)

PHOR. Oh, not at all!--And since You're in no fright, and what I say means nothing, Tell it yourself.

DEM. At your desire, you rascal?

PHOR. Oh, you've done rarely for your brother, Sir!

NAUS. What! Won't you tell me, husband?

CHREM. But----