Studies in the Poetry of Italy, I. Roman Part 6

We see from the foregoing conversation what the situation is at the opening of the play, and can guess at the problems to be solved by the development of the action: How shall Phaedria obtain the money with which to buy his sweetheart? and how shall Antipho's father be reconciled to the marriage so that he may not annul it or disown both the young people upon his return?

The two cousins Antipho and Phaedria now appear, each envying the seemingly happy lot of the other, and deploring his own. Antipho has already repented of his hasty action, and is panic-stricken when he thinks of the wrath of his father. While Phaedria can think only of his friend's good fortune in being married to the girl of his heart. Geta's sudden appearance from the direction of the harbor strikes terror into Antipho, and both the cousins retire to the back of the stage. The slave is evidently much disturbed, though the young men can catch only a word now and then.

Desirous, yet fearful of knowing the worst, Antipho now calls out to his slave, who turns and comes up to him.

_Antipho._ Come, give us your news, for goodness' sake, and be quick.

_Ge._ All right, I will. _Ant._ Well, out with it, then. _Ge._ Just now at the harbor-- _Ant._ What, my-- _Ge._ That's right. _Ant._ I'm done for!

Phaedria has not Antipho's fear-sharpened imagination to get Geta's news from these fragmentary statements, and asks the slave to tell him what it is all about.

_Geta._ I tell you that I have seen his father, your uncle. _Ant._ [_frantically_]. How shall I meet this sudden disaster? But if it has come to this, Phanium [_his wife_], that I am to be separated from you, then I don't want to live any longer. _Ge._ There, there, Antipho, in such a state of things you ought to be all the more on the watch. Fortune favors the brave, you know. _Ant._ [_with choking voice_]. I'm not myself to-day. _Ge._ But you must be, Antipho; for if your father sees that you are timid and meek about it, he'll think of course that you are in the wrong. _Ant._ But, I tell you, I can't do any different. _Ge._ What would you do if you had some harder job yet? _Ant._ Since I can't do this, I couldn't do that. _Ge._ Come, Phaedria, there's no use fooling with this fellow; we're only wasting our time. Let's be off. _Phaed._ All right, come on. _Ant._ O say, hold on! What if I pretend to be bold. [_Strikes an att.i.tude_]. Will that do? _Ge._ Stuff and nonsense. _Ant._ Well, how will this expression do? _Ge._ It won't do at all. _Ant._ How is this? _Ge._ That's more like it. _Ant._ Is this better? _Ge._ That's just right.

Keep on looking that way. And remember to answer him word for word, t.i.t for tat, and don't let the angry old man get the better of you.

_Ant._ I--I--w-won't. _Ge._ Tell him you were forced to it against your will-- _Phaed._ By the law, by the court. _Ge._ Do you catch on?--But who is this old man I see coming up the street?

Antipho casts one look of terror down the street, cries: "It's father himself, I just can't stay," and takes to his heels.

_Phaed._ Now, Geta, what next? _Ge._ Well, you're in for a row; and I shall be hung up by the heels and flogged, unless I am much mistaken.

But what we were advising Antipho to do just now, we must do ourselves. _Phaed._ O, come off with your "musts"! Tell me just what to do. _Ge._ Do you remember how you said when we were planning how to get out of blame for this business that "Phormio's suit was just dead easy, sure to win"? Well, that's the game we want to work now,--or a better one yet, if you can think of one. Now you go ahead and I'll wait here in ambush, in case you want any help.

They retire to the back of the stage as Demipho enters from the direction of the harbor. The old man is in a towering rage, for he has heard the news, which by this time is all over town. After listening awhile to his angry soliloquy, and interjecting sneering comments _sotto voce_, Geta and Phaedria conclude that it is time to act. So Phaedria advances to his uncle with an effusive welcome:

_Phaed._ My dear uncle, how do you do? _Demipho_ [_crustily_]. How are you? But where is Antipho? _Phaed._ I'm so glad to see-- _Dem._ Oh, no doubt; but answer my questions. _Phaed._ Oh, he's all right; he's here in the house. But, uncle, has anything gone wrong with you? _Dem._ Well, I should say so. _Phaed._ What do you mean? _Dem._ How can you ask, Phaedria? This is a pretty marriage you have gotten up here in my absence. _Phaed._ Why, uncle, you aren't angry with him for that, are you? _Dem._ Not angry with him, indeed? I can hardly wait to see him and let him know how through his own fault his indulgent father has become most stern and angry with him. _Phaed._ Now, uncle, if Antipho has been at fault in that he wasn't careful enough of his purse or reputation, I haven't a word to say to s.h.i.+eld him from blame. But if some one with malicious intent has laid a trap for him and got the best of him, is that our fault, or that of the judges, who often decide against the rich through envy, and in favor of the poor out of pity? _Dem._ But how is any judge to know the justice of your case, when you don't say a word in self-defense, as I understand he didn't?

_Phaed._ Well, in that he acted like a well-bred young man; when he came before the judges, he couldn't remember a word of his speech that he had prepared; he was so bashful.

Seeing that Phaedria is getting along so well, Geta decides to come forward.

_Ge._ Hail, master! I'm very glad to see you home safe again. _Dem._ [_with angry irony_]. Hail! A fine guardian you are! A regular pillar of the family! So you are the fellow that I left in charge of my son when I went away?

Geta plays injured innocence, and wants to know what Demipho would have had him do. Being a slave, he could neither plead the young man's cause nor testify in his behalf.

_Dem._ O, yes; I admit all that. But even if the girl was never so much related, he needn't have married her. Why didn't you take the other legal alternative, give her a dowry, and let her find another husband? Had he no more sense than to marry her himself? _Ge._ O, he had sense enough; it was the dollars he lacked. _Dem._ Well, he might have borrowed the money. _Ge._ Borrowed it? That's easier said than done. _Dem._ He might have gotten it from a usurer on a pinch. _Ge._ Well, I do like that! As if any one would lend him money in your lifetime!

The old man, beaten to a standstill, can only fall back upon his obstinate determination, and vow that he won't have it.

_Dem._ No, no; it shall not be, it cannot be! I won't permit this marriage to continue for a single day longer. Now, I want to see that other fellow, or at least find out where he lives. _Ge._ Do you mean Phormio? _Dem._ I mean that woman's guardian. _Ge._ I'll go get him for you. _Dem._ Where is Antipho now? _Ge._ O, he's out somewhere.

_Dem._ Phaedria, you go hunt him up and bring him to me. _Phaed._ Yes, sir; I'll go find him right away. _Ge._ [_leering at Phaedria as the latter pa.s.ses him_]. You mean you'll go to Pamphila [_Phaedria's sweetheart_].

Demipho, left alone, announces that he will get some friends together to advise him in the business, and prepare him for his interview with Phormio. The act ends with the prospect pretty dark for Antipho, and with no plan of action formed in his behalf.

We are now introduced, at the opening of the second act, to the actor of the t.i.tle role, the keen-witted, reckless parasite, Phormio. He is accompanied upon the stage by Geta, who is telling him the situation.

Geta beseeches Phormio to come to their aid, since he is, after all, entirely responsible for the trouble. Phormio remains buried in thought awhile, and then announces that he has his plans formed, and is ready to meet the old man.

[_Enter Demipho and three friends from the other side of the stage.

Demipho is talking to his friends._]

_Dem._ Did you ever hear of any one suffering more outrageous treatment than I have? I beg you to help me. _Ge._ [_apart to Phormio_]. My, but he's mad! _Phor._ You just watch me now; I'll stir him up. [_Speaking in a loud enough tone to be overheard by Demipho_]. By all the powers! Does Demipho say that Phanium isn't related to him? Does Demipho say so? _Ge._ Yes, he does.

Demipho is caught by this bait, as Phormio had intended, and says to his friends in an undertone:

I believe this is the very fellow I was seeking. Let's go a little nearer.

Phormio continues in a loud voice to berate Demipho for his neglect of the supposed relative, while Geta noisily takes his master's part.

Demipho now interrupts this sham quarrel, and after snubbing Geta, he turns with mock politeness to Phormio.

_Dem._ Young man, I beg your pardon, but will you be kind enough to tell me who that friend of yours was that you are talking about, and how he said I was related to him? _Phor._ O, you ask as if you didn't know. _Dem._ As if I didn't know? _Phor._ Yes. _Dem._ And I say that I _don't_ know. Now do you, who say that I do, refresh my memory.

_Phor._ Didn't you know your own cousin? _Dem._ O, you make me tired.

Tell me his name. _Phor._ The name? Why, certainly.

But now the name by which he had heard Phanium speak of her father has slipped from his mind, and he is forced to awkward silence. Demipho is quick to see his embarra.s.sment:

Well, why don't you speak? _Phor._ [_aside_]. By George! I'm in a box! I have forgotten the name. _Dem._ What's that you say? _Phor._ [_aside in a whisper to Geta_]. Say, Geta, if you remember that name we heard the other day, tell it to me. [_Then determining to bluff it out, he turns to Demipho_]. No, I won't tell you the name. You are trying to pump me, as if you didn't know it already. _Dem._ [_angrily_]. I pump you? _Ge._ [_whispering_]. It's Stilpho. _Phor._ [_to Demipho_]. And yet what do I care? It's Stilpho. _Dem._ Who?

_Phor._ [_shouting it at him_]. Stilpho, I say. Did you know him?

_Dem._ No, I didn't, And I never had a relative of that name. _Phor._ No? Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Now if he had left a matter of ten talents-- _Dem._ Confound your impudence! _Phor._ You would be the first to come forward, with a very good memory, and trace your connection with him for generations back. _Dem._ Well, have it as you say. Then when I had come into court. I should have told just how she was related to me. Now you do the same. Come, how is she related to me? _Phor._ I have already explained that to those who had a right to ask--the judges. If my statement was false then, why didn't your son refute it? _Dem._ Don't mention my son to me! I can't possibly express my disgust at his folly. _Phor._ Then do you, who are so wise, go before the magistrates and ask them to reopen the case.

[_This, according to the law of Athens, was impossible._]

Demipho has twice been completely beaten in a war of words--once by Geta and now by Phormio. He chokes down his rage as best he can, and now makes a proposition to his enemy. He is still too angry to express himself very connectedly.

_Dem._ Although I have been outraged in this business, still, rather than have a quarrel with such as you, just as if she were related to me, since the law bids to give her a dowry, take her away from here, and make it _fui minae_. _Phor._ Ho! ho! ho! Well, you _are_ a cheerful idiot! _Dem._ What's the matter? Have I asked anything wrong? Or can't I get even what is my legal right? _Phor._ Well, really now, I should like to ask you, when you have once married a girl, does the law bid you then to give her some money and send her packing? On the contrary, it is for the very purpose that a citizen of Athens may not come to shame on account of her poverty, that her next of kin is bidden to take her to wife. And this purpose you are attempting to thwart. _Dem._ Yes, that's just it--"her next of kin."

But where do I come in on that score? _Phor._ O pshaw! don't thresh over old straw. _Dem._ Sha'n't I? I vow I shall not stop until I have accomplished my ends.

After further badgering and bear-baiting on the part of Phormio, Demipho finally falls back upon his dogged determination as before, and gives his ultimatum:

See here, Phormio, we have said enough. Unless you take immediate steps to get that woman away, I'll throw her out of the house. I have spoken, Phormio.

Phormio is not to be outdone in bl.u.s.ter, and adopting Demipho's formula, as well as his tone and gestures, he says:

And if you touch that girl except as becomes a free-born citizen, I'll bring a cracking suit against you. I have spoken, Demipho.

So saying, he turns and swaggers off the stage, much to the secret delight of Geta, the impotent rage of Demipho, and the open-mouthed amazement of the three friends.

Demipho now appeals to his friends for advice as to how to proceed in this crisis; but they are so obsequious in their manner, and so contradictory in their advice, that Demipho is in greater perplexity than before, and decides to take no action at all until his brother Chremes comes home. He accordingly leaves the stage in the direction of the harbor, his three friends having already bowed themselves out.

This temporary disposition of Antipho's case is fittingly followed by the appearance of the young man himself in self-reproachful soliloquy that he should have run away and left his young wife in the lurch. Geta appears, and tells Antipho all that has pa.s.sed in his absence, much to Antipho's grat.i.tude and relief, though he sorely dreads the return of his uncle, who, it seems, is to be the arbiter of his destiny.

Phaedria and his troubles now claim the center of the stage. As Antipho and Geta stand talking, they hear a pitiful outcry, and looking up, they see a black-browed, evil-faced, typical stage villain, who we presently discover is Dorio, the slave-driver who owns Phaedria's sweetheart.

Things have evidently come to a crisis with that young man. He is following Dorio, and imploring him to wait three days until he can get money enough to buy his sweetheart. But Dorio says he has a customer who offers cash down. After much entreaty, however, he tells Phaedria that if the money is forthcoming before to-morrow morning he will consider the bargain closed. So there Phaedria's business is brought to a head, and the attention of us all must be at once turned to what has suddenly become the paramount issue. What is to be done? Phaedria is too hysterical to be of any help in the matter, and Antipho tells the faithful and resourceful Geta that he must get the money somehow. Geta says that this is liable to be a pretty difficult matter, and doesn't want to undertake it, but is finally persuaded by Phaedria's pitiful despair to try. He asks Phaedria how much money he needs.

_Phaed._ Only six hundred dollars. _Ge._ Six hundred dollars! Whew!

she's pretty dear, Phaedria. _Phaed._ [_indignantly_]. It's no such thing! She's cheap at the price. _Ge._ Well, well! I'll get you the money somehow.

The third act gives a picture of the situation from the point of view of the two old men, Demipho and Chremes, for the latter has just returned from Lemnos, and now comes upon the stage fresh from his travels, in company with his brother. We now discover for the first time what is probably the real reason for the opposition to Antipho's marriage to the orphan girl.

_Dem._ Well, Chremes, did you bring your daughter with you, for whose sake you went to Lemnos? _Chr._ No, I didn't. _Dem._ Why not? _Chr._ When her mother saw that I was delaying my coming too long, and that my negligence was harming our daughter, who had now reached a marriageable age, she simply packed up her whole household, and came here to hunt me up--so they told me over there. And then I heard from the skipper who brought them that they reached Athens all right.

_Dem._ Have you heard what has happened to my son while I was gone?

_Chr._ Yes, and it's knocked all my plans into a c.o.c.ked hat. For if I make a match for my daughter with some outsider, I'll have to tell him categorically just how she comes to be mine, and who her mother is. I was secure in our proposed match between her and Antipho, for I knew that my secret was as safe in your hands as in my own; whereas if an outsider comes into the family, he will keep the secret as long as we are on good terms; but if we ever quarrel, he will know more than is good for me [_looking around cautiously, and speaking with bated breath_]; and I'm dreadfully afraid that my wife will find it out in some way. And if she does, the only thing left for me to do is to take myself off and leave home; for my soul is the only thing I can call my own in this house.

From this it develops that Chremes has had a wife and daughter in Lemnos, and now lives in wholesome fear of his too masterful Athenian spouse.

Geta now comes upon the stage in fine spirits, loud in his praises of the shrewdness of Phormio, with whom he has just concluded a scheme for getting the money. He is in search of Demipho, and is surprised to find Chremes on hand as well. Meanwhile, Antipho has come cautiously upon the stage in search of Geta, just as the latter goes boldly up to the two old men. As yet unseen by any one, Antipho retires to the back of the stage, and overhears the following conversation: