Chapter 27

SIM. (_to himself_). I've not enjoyed myself better at home this year _than I have to-day_, nor has at any time any meal pleased me better. My wife provided a very nice breakfast for me; now she bids me go take a nap. By no means! It instantly struck me that _it didn't so happen_ by chance. She provided a better breakfast than is her wont; _and then_, the old lady wanted to draw me away to my chamber. Sleep is not good [1] after breakfast--out upon it! I secretly stole away from the house, out of doors. My wife, I'm sure, is now quite bursting _with rage_ at home.

TRA. (_apart_). A sore mischance is provided for this old fellow by the evening; for he must both dine and go to bed in-doors in sorry fashion.

SIM. (_continuing_). The more I reflect upon it in my mind: if any person has a dowried _wife_, sleep has no charms for him. I detest going to take a nap. It's a settled matter with me to be off to the Forum from here, rather than nap it at home. And, i' faith (_to the_ AUDIENCE), I don't know how your _wives_ are in their behaviour; this _wife of mine_, I know right well how badly she treats me, _and_ that she will prove more annoying to me hereafter than she has been.

TRA. (_apart_). If your escape, old gentleman, turns out amiss, there'll be no reason for you to be accusing any one of the Gods; by very good right, you may justly lay the blame upon yourself. It's time now for me to accost this old fellow. 'Tis down upon him. [2] I've hit upon a plan whereby to cajole the old fellow, by means of which to drive grief [3] away from me. I'll accost him. (_Accosting him_.) May the Gods, Simo, send on you many blessings! (_Takes him by the hand_.)

SIM. Save you, Tranio! TRA. How fare you?

SIM. Not amiss. What are you about?

TRA. Holding _by the hand_ a very worthy man.

SIM. You act in a friendly way, in speaking well of me.

TRA. It certainly is your due.

SIM. But, i' faith, in you I don't hold a good servant _by the hand_.

THEU. (_calling from a distance, where he is not perceived by_ SIMO). Hark you! you whip-knave, come back to me.

TRA. (_turning round_). I'll be there just now.

SIM. Well now, how soon--?

TRA. What is it? SIM. The usual goings-on.

TRA. Tell me then, these usual goings-on, what are they?

SIM. The way that you _yourselves_ proceed. But, Tranio, to say the truth, according as men are, it so befits you to humour them; reflecting, at the same time, how short life is.

TRA. What _of all this_? Dear me, at last, after some difficulty,

I perceive that you are talking about these goings-on of ours.

SIM. I' faith, you _people_ are living a merry life, just as befits you: on wine, good cheer, nice dainty fish, you enjoy life.

TRA. Why yes, so it was in time past, indeed; _but_ now these things have come to an end all at once. SIM. How so?

TRA. So utterly, Simo, are we all undone!

SIM. Won't you hold your tongue? Everything has gone on prosperously with you hitherto.

TEA. I don't deny that it has been as you say; undoubtedly, we have lived heartily, just as we pleased; but, Simo, in such a way has the breeze now forsaken our ship--

SIM. What's the matter? In what way?

TRA. In a most shocking _way_.

SIM. What, wasn't it hauled ashore [4] in safety?

TRA. Ah me! SIM. What's the matter?

TRA. Ah wretched me! I'm utterly undone!

SIM. How so? TRA. Because a ship has come, to smash the hull of our ship.

SIM. I would wish as you would wish, Tranio, _for your own sake_. But what is the matter? Do inform me.

TRA. I will inform you. My master has arrived from abroad.

SIM. In that case, the cord will be stretched for you; thence to the place where iron fetters clink; after that, straight to the cross.

TRA. Now, by your knees, I do implore you, don't give information to my master.

SIM. Don't you fear; he shall know nothing from me.

TRA. Blessings on you, my patron.

SIM. I don't care for clients of this description for myself.

TRA. Now as to this about which our old gentleman has sent me.

SIM. First answer me this that I ask you. As yet, has your old gentleman discovered anything of these matters?

TRA. Nothing whatever.

SIM. Has he censured his son at all?

TRA. He is as calm as the calm weather is wont to be. Now he has requested me most earnestly to beg this of you, that leave may be given him to see over this house of yours.

SIM. It's not for sale. TRA. I know that indeed; but the old gentleman wishes to build a woman's apartment [5] here in his own house, baths, too, and a piazza, and a porch.

SIM. What has he been dreaming of?

TRA. I'll tell you. He wishes to give his son a wife as soon as he can; for that purpose he wants a new apartment for the women. But he says that some builder, I don't know who, has been praising up to him this _house of yours_, as being remarkably well built; now he's desirous to take a model from it, if you don't make any objection--

SIM. Indeed, he is really choosing a plan for himself from a piece of poor workmanship.

TRA. _It was_ because he heard that here the summer heat was much modified; that this house was wont to be inhabited each day all day long.

SIM. Why really, upon my faith, on the contrary, while there's shade in every direction, in spite of it, the sun is always here from morning till night: he stands, like a dun, continually at the door; and I have no shade anywhere, unless, perhaps, there may be some in the well.

TRA. Well now, have you one from Sarsina, if you have no woman of Umbria [6]?

SIM. Don't be impertinent. It is just as I tell you.

TRA. Still, he wishes to look over it.

SIM. He may look over it, if he likes. If there is anything that takes his fancy, let him build after my plan.

TRA. Am I to go and call _this_ person hither?

SIM. Go _and_ call him.

TRA. (_to himself, as he goes to the other side of the stage to call_ THEUROPIDES). They say that Alexander the Great and Agathocles [7] achieved two very great exploits; what shall be the lot of myself, a third, who, unaided, am achieving deeds imperishable? This old fellow is carrying his pack-saddle, the other one, as well. I've hit upon a novel trade for myself, not a bad one; whereas muleteers have mules to carry pack-saddles; I've got men to carry the pack-saddles. They are able to carry heavy burdens; whatever you put upon them, they carry. Now, I don't know whether I am to address him. I'll accost him, _however_. (_Calling aloud._) Hark you, Theuropides!

THEU. (_coming forward_). Well; who's calling me?

TRA. A servant most attached to his master. Where you sent me, I got it all agreed to.

THEU. Prithee, why did you stay there so long?

TRA. The old gentleman hadn't leisure; I was waiting until then.

THEU. You keep up that old way of yours, of being tardy.

TRA. Hark you! if you please reflect upon this proverb: to blow and swallow [8] at the same moment isn't easy to be done; I couldn't be here and there at the same time.

THEU. What now?

TRA. Come and look, and inspect it at your own pleasure.

THEU. Very well, you go before me.

TRA. Am I delaying _to do so?_ THEU. I'll follow after you.

TEA. (_as they advance_). Look, the old gentleman himself is awaiting you before the door, but he is concerned that he has sold this _house_.

THEU. Why so?

TRA. He begs me to persuade Philolaches to let him off.

THEU. I don't think _he will_. Each man reaps on his own farm [9]. If it had been bought dear, we shouldn't have had permission to return it on his hands. Whatever profit there is, it's proper to bring it home. It don't, now-a-days, befit men to be showing compassion.

TRA. I' faith, you are losing time while you are talking. Follow _me_.

THEU. Be it so. TRA. (_to_ THEUROPIDES). I'll give you my services. (_Pointing._) There's the old gentleman. (_To_ SIMO.) Well now, I've brought you _this_ person.

SIM. I'm glad that you've arrived safely from abroad, Theuropides. THEU. May the Gods bless you.

SIM. Your servant was telling me that you were desirous to look over this house.

THEU. Unless it's inconvenient to you.

SIM. Oh no; _quite_ convenient. Do step in-doors and look over it. THEU. (_pausing_). But yet--the ladies--

SIM. Take you care not to trouble yourself a straw about any lady. Walk in every direction, wherever you like, all over the house, just as though it were your own.

THEU. (_apart to_ TRANIO). "Just as though--?"

TRA. (_whispering_). Oh, take care that you don't throw it in his teeth now in his concern, that you have bought it. Don't you see him, how sad a countenance the old gentleman has?

THEU. (_apart_). I see. TRA. (_apart_). Then don't seem to exult, and to be overmuch delighted; _in fact_, don't make mention that you've bought it.

THEU. (_apart_). I understand; and I think you've given good advice, and that it shows a humane disposition. (_Turning to_ SIMO.) What now?

SIM. Won't you go in? Look over it at your leisure, just as you like.

THEU. I consider that you are acting civilly and kindly.

SIM. Troth, I wish to do so. Should you like some one to show you over.

THEU. Away with any one to show [10] me over. I don't want him. SIM. Why? What's the matter?

THEU. I'll go wrong, rather than any one should show me over.

TRA. (_pointing_). Don't you see, this vestibule before the house, and the piazza, of what a compass it is?

THEU. Troth, really handsome!

TRA. Well, look _now_, what pillars there are, with what strength they are built, and of what a thickness.

THEU. I don't think that I _ever_ saw handsomer pillars.

SIM. I' faith, they were some time since bought by me at such a price!

TRA. (_aside, whispering_). Don't you hear--"They were _once"?_ He seems hardly able to refrain from tears.

THEU. At what price did you purchase them?

SIM. I gave three minae for the two, besides the carriage. (_He retires to some distance._)

THEU. (_after looking close at them, to_ TRANIO). Why, upon my word, they are much more unsound than I thought them at first.

TRA. Why so? THEU. Because, i' faith, the woodworm has split them both from the bottom.

TRA. I think they were cut at an improper season; that fault damages them; but even as it is, they are quite good enough, if they are covered with pitch. But it was no foreign pulse-eating artisan [11] did this work. Don't you see the joints in the door? (_Pointing._)

THEU. I see them. TRA. Look, how close together they are sleeping.

THEU. Sleeping? TRA. That is, how they wink, I intended to say. Are you satisfied?

THEU. The more I look at each particular, the more it pleases me.

TRA. (_pointing_). Don't you see the painting, where one crow [12] is baffling two vultures? The crow stands there; it's pecking at them both in turn. This way, look, prithee, towards me [13], that you may be able to see the crow. (THEUROPIDES _turns towards him._) Now do you see it?

THEU. (_looking about_). For my part, I really see no crow there.

TRA. But do you look in that direction, towards yourselves, since you cannot discover the crow, if perchance you may be able to espy the vultures. (THEUROPIDES _turns towards_ SIMO.) Now do you see _them_?

THEU. Upon my faith, I don't see them.

TRA. But I _can see_ two vultures.

THEU. To make an end of it with you, I don't see any bird at all painted here.

TRA. Well then, I give it up. I excuse you; it is through age you cannot see.

THEU. These things which I can _see_, really they do all please me mightily.

SIM. (_coming forward_). Now, at length, it's worth your while to move further on. THEU. Troth, you give good advice.

SIM. (_calling at the door_). Ho there, boy! take _this person_ round this house and the apartments. But I myself would have shown you round, if I hadn't had business at the Forum.

THEU. Away with any one to show me over. I don't want to be shown over. Whatever it is, I'd rather go wrong than any one should show me over.

SIM. The house I'm speaking of.

THEU. Then I'll go in without any one to show me over.

SIM. Go, by all means.

THEU. I'll go in-doors, then.

TRA. (_holding him back_). Stop, please; let me see whether the dog--THEU. Very well then, look. (TRANIO _looks into the passage._)

TRA. There is one. THEU. (_looking in_). Where is it?

TRA. (_to the dog_). Be off and be hanged! 'St, won't you be off to utter perdition with you? What, do you still linger? 'St, away with you from here!

SIM. (_coming nearer to the door_). There's no danger. You only move on. It's as gentle [14] as a woman in childbed. You may boldly step in-doors wherever you like. I'm going hence to the Forum.

THEU. You've acted obligingly. Good speed to you! (_Exit_ SIMO.) Tranio, come, make that dog move away from the door inside, although it isn't to be feared.

TRA. Nay but (_pointing_), you look at it, how gently it lies. Unless you'd like yourself to appear troublesome and cowardly--

THEU. Very well, just as you like.

TRA. Follow me this way then.

THEU. For my part, I shall not move in any direction from your feet. (_They go into the house_.)

[Footnote 1: _Sleep is not good_)--Ver. 681. It was a custom with the Romans to take a nap at noon, after the "prandium." The modern Italians have the same practice, and call it the "siesta." Simo has his private reasons for thinking that this nap is not wholesome in his own case.]

[Footnote 2: _Down upon him)_--Ver. 698. "Hoc habet." Literally, "he has it;" a term used by the Spectators, when a gladiator received a wound at the gladiatoral games.]

[Footnote 3: _By means of which to drive grief)_--Ver. 699. He plays upon the resemblance of the words "dolo" and "dolorem."]

[Footnote 4: _Wasn't it hauled ashore_)--Vet. 723. It was the custom, when ships were not in use, especially in the winter time, to draw them up on chore, by means of rollers placed beneath them.]

[Footnote 5: _A woman's apartment_)--Ver. 741. "Gynaeceum." This was a name borrowed from the Greeks, for the apartments in the house which were especially devoted to the use of the females.]

[Footnote 6: _No woman of Umbria_)--Ver. 756. This is a poor pun upon the different acceptations of the word "umbra," which may signify, according to the context, "shade," or "a woman of Umbria." Simo means it in the former, while Tranio chooses to take it in the latter sense. Simo does not like this attempt at wit, and tells him not to be impertinent. We may here observe, that Plautus was born at Sarsina, a town of Umbria.]

[Footnote 7: _Agathocles_)--Ver. 761. Agathocles rose from the station of a potter to be king of Sicily.]

[Footnote 8: _To blow and swallow_)--Ver. 777. Or "exhale and inhale." A proverbial expression, very similar to that in use with us, that "a person cannot blow hot and cold at the same time."]

[Footnote 9: _Reaps on his own farm_)--Ver. 785. A country proverb, meaning "every one for himself."]

[Footnote 10: _Away with any one to show_)--Ver. 804. He says this, not liking the mention of the word "perductor," which, beside meaning an "attendant" or "one to escort," signifies a "pander" or "procurer." So in the next line, "perducto" means "to show over" or "to act the procurer."]

[Footnote 11: _ Foreign pulse-eating artisan_)--Ver. 817. From the use of the word "pultiphagus," he probably alludes to Carthaginian workmen, who were very skilful at working in wood. In the Poenulus, Hanno the Carthaginian is called "patruus pultiphagonides," "the pulse-eating kinsman." If this is the meaning, it is pretty clear that he is not speaking in praise of the workmanship. Some, however, think that as, in early times, the lower classes at Rome lived upon "puls," "pap" or "pottage," the Scene being at Athens, Roman workmen are alluded to; if so, he may mean to speak in praise of the work, and to say that no bungling artists made the doors. See the Note in p. 355. The joints are said to wink, from the close conjunction of the eyelids in the act of winking.]

[Footnote 12: _Where one crow_)--Ver. 821. By the "crow," he means himself; and by the "vultures," the two old men. Simo is probably standing at some distance off; and knowing that his master's sight is not good, he feels that he may deride him with impunity.]

[Footnote 13: _Towards me_)--Ver. 822. "Ad me." Theuropides thinks he means, "in my direction;" whereas Tranio really means, "look 'at me,' and you will see the crow;" though he does not intend that his master shall take it in that sense.]

[Footnote 14: _It's as gentle_)--Ver. 840. This, probably, is intended to refer to the statue of a dog lying down in the vestibule, and not a real one. Pictures of dogs, with "cave canem" written beneath, were sometimes painted on the wall near the door.]