Eunuchus; or, The Eunuch

Not at all.

Besides, what effrontery he has.

At Antipho’s, both of them, father and mother,

just as if on purpose, were at home, so that I couldn’t any way get in, but that they must have seen me. In the mean time, while I was standing before the door, a certain acquaintance of mine was coming full upon me. When I espied him, I took to my heels as fast as I could down a narrow unfrequented alley; thence again

to another, and thence to another; thus have I been most dreadfully harassed with running about, that no one might recognize me. But isn’t this Thais that I see? It is she. I’m at a stand. What shall I do? But what need I care? What can she do to me?

Let’s accost him. (To CHAEREA.) Good Mister Dorus, welcome; tell me,

have you been running away?

Madam, I did so.

Are you quite pleased with it?

No.

Do you fancy that you’ll get off with impunity?

Forgive this one fault; if I’m ever guilty of another, then kill me.

Were you in fear of my severity?

No.

No? What then?

I was afraid of her, lest she might be accusing me to you.

What had you done?

A mere trifle.

Come now, a trifle, you impudent fellow. Does this appear a trifle to you, to ravish a virgin, a citizen?

I took her for my fellow-servant.

Fellow-servant? I can hardly restrain myself from flying at his hair. A miscreant! Even of his own free will he comes to make fun of us.

Won’t you begone from here, you mad woman?

Why so? Really, I do believe I should be something in this hang-dog’s debt, if I were to do so; especially as he owns that he is your servant.

We’ll pass that by. Chaerea, you have behaved unworthily of yourself; for if I am deserving in the highest degree of this affront,

still it is unbecoming of you to be guilty of it. And, upon my faith, I do not know what method now to adopt about this girl: you have so confounded all my plans, that I can not possibly return her to her friends in such a manner as is befitting and as I had intended;

in order that, by this means, I might, Chaerea, do a real service to myself.

But now, from henceforth, I hope, Thais, that there will be lasting good-will between us. Many a time, from some affair of this kind and from a bad beginning, great friendships have sprung up. What if some Divinity has willed this?

I’faith, for my own part I both take it in that view and wish to do so.

Yes, prithee, do so. Be sure of this one thing, that I did not do it for the sake of affronting you, but in consequence of passion.

I understand, and, i’faith, for that reason do I now the more readily forgive you. I am not, Chaerea, of a disposition so ungentle, or so inexperienced,

as not to know what is the power of love.

So may the Deities kindly bless me, Thais; I am now smitten with you as well.

Then, i’faith, mistress, I foresee you must have a care of him.

I would not dare—

I won’t trust you at all in any thing.

Do have done.

Now I entreat you that you will be my assistant in this affair.

I intrust and commit myself to your care; I take you, Thais, as my protectress; I implore you; I shall die if I don’t have her for my wife.

But if your father should say any thing—

Oh, he’ll consent, I’m quite sure of that, if she is only a citizen.

If you will wait a little,

the brother himself of the young woman will be here presently; he has gone to fetch the nurse, who brought her up when a little child; you yourself, shall be present Chaerea, at his recognition of her.

I certainly will stay.

In the mean time, until he comes, would you prefer that we should wait for him in the house, rather than here before the door?

Why yes, I should like it much.

Prithee, what are you going to do?

Why, what’s the matter?

Do you ask? Do you think of admitting him after this into your house?

Why not?

Trust my word for it, he’ll be creating some new disturbance.

O dear, prithee, do hold your tongue.

You seem to me to be far from sensible of his assurance.

I’ll not do any thing, Pythias.

Upon my faith, I don’t believe you, Chaerea, except in case you are not trusted.

Nay but, Pythias, do you be my keeper.

Upon my faith, I would neither venture to give any thing to you to keep, nor to keep you myself: away with you!

Most opportunely the brother himself is coming.

I’faith, I’m undone. Prithee,

let’s be gone in-doors, Thais. I don’t want him to see me in the street with this dress on.

For what reason, pray? Because you are ashamed?

Just so.

Just so? But the young woman—

Go first; I’ll follow. You stay here, Pythias, that you may show Chremes in.

Well! what now can suggest itself to my mind?

What, I wonder, in order that I may repay the favor to that villain who palmed this fellow off upon us?

Really, do bestir yourself more quickly, nurse.

I am bestirring.

So I see; but you don’t stir forward.

Have you yet shown the tokens to the nurse?

All of them.

Prithee, what does she say? Does she recognize them?

Yes, with a full recollection of them.

Upon my faith, you do bring good news; for I really wish well to this young woman. Go in-doors: my mistress has been for some time expecting you at home. (CHREMES and SOPHRONA go into THAIS’s house.) But look, yonder I espy that worthy fellow, Parmeno, coming: just see, for heaven’s sake, how leisurely he moves along. I hope I have it in my power to torment him after my own fashion.

I’ll go in-doors, that I may know for certain about the discovery; afterward I’ll come out, and give this villain a terrible fright.

I’ve just come back to see what Chaerea has been doing here. If he has managed the affair with dexterity, ye Gods, by our trust in you, how great and genuine applause will Parmeno obtain!

For not to mention that a passion, full of difficulty and expense, with which he was smitten for a virgin, belonging to an extortionate courtesan, I’ve found means of satisfying for him, without molestation, without outlay, and without cost; then, this other point—that is really a thing that I consider my crowning merit,

to have found out the way by which a young man may be enabled to learn the dispositions and manners of courtesans, so that by knowing them betimes, he may detest them ever after. (PYTHIAS enters from the house unperceived.) For while they are out of doors, nothing seems more cleanly, nothing more neat or more elegant;

and when they dine with a gallant, they pick daintily about: to see the filth, the dirtiness, the neediness of these women; how sluttish they are when at home, and how greedy after victuals; in what a fashion they devour the black bread with yesterday’s broth:—to know all this, is salvation to a young man.

Upon my faith, you villain, I’ll take vengeance upon you for these sayings and doings; so that you sha’n’t make sport of us with impunity. (Aloud, coming forward.) O, by our trust in the Gods, what a disgraceful action! O hapless young man! O wicked Parmeno, to have brought him here!

What’s the matter?

I do pity him; and so that I mightn’t see it, wretched creature that I am, I hurried away out of doors.

What a dreadful example they talk of making him!

O Jupiter! What is this tumult? Am I then undone? I’ll accost her. What’s all this, Pythias? What are you saying? An example made of whom?

Do you ask the question, you most audacious fellow? You’ve proved the ruin of the young man whom you brought hither for the Eunuch, while you were trying to put a trick upon us.

How so, or what has happened? Tell me.

I’ll tell you: that young woman who was to-day made a present to Thais, are you aware that she is a citizen of this place, and that her brother is a person of very high rank?

I didn’t know that.

But so she has been discovered to be; he, unfortunate youth, has ravished her. When the brother came to know of this being done, in a most towering rage, he—

Did what, pray?

First, bound him in a shocking manner.

Bound him?

And even though Thais entreated him that he wouldn’t do so—

What is it you tell me?

Now he is threatening that he will also do that which is usually done to ravishers; a thing that I never saw done, nor wish to.

With what assurance does he dare perpetrate a crime so heinous?

How so heinous?

Is it not most heinous? Who ever saw any one taken up as a ravisher in a courtesan’s house?

I don’t know.

But that you mayn’t be ignorant of this, Pythias, I tell you, and give you notice that he is my master’s son.

How! Prithee, is it he?