_Re-enter GNATHO._
GNAT. Ha! Parmeno!
Are you here still? What! are you left a spy, Lest any go-between should run by stealth To Thais from the Captain? (_Exit._
PAR. Very smart!
No wonder such a wit delights the Captain!
But hold! I see my master's younger son Coming this way. I wonder much he should Desert Piraeus, where he's now on guard.
'Tis not for nothing. All in haste he comes, And seems to look about.
[Changes:
SCENE II.
_Labeled SCENE III in 1768 edition (see end of Scene I)._
_All quotation marks in this scene are supplied from the 1768 edition._
_Harper_ He was in a most wretched trim; his looks _Colman 1768_ Seeing him in a wretched trim; his looks
But mine's a new profession; I the first _Harper edition prints "But mine 's" with anomalous spacing_
_Harper_ (Who once did profit and still profit by me,) _Colman 1768_ (Who, while my means were ample, profited, And, tho' now wasted, profit by me still,)]
SCENE III.
_Enter CHaeREA; PARMENO behind._
CHaeR. Undone! undone!
The Girl is lost; I know not where she is, Nor where I am: ah, whither shall I trace?
Where seek? of whom inquire? or which way turn?
I'm all uncertain; but have one hope still: Where'er she is, she can not long lie hid.
Oh charming face! all others from my memory Hence I blot out. Away with common beauties!
PAR. So, here's the other! and he mutters too I know not what of love. Oh what a poor Unfortunate old man their father is!
As for this stripling, if he once begin, His brother's is but jest and children's play To his mad fury.
CHaeR. Twice ten thousand curses Seize the old wretch, who kept me back to-day; And me for staying! with a fellow too I did not care a farthing for!--But see!
Yonder stands Parmeno.--Good-day!
PAR. How now?
Wherefore so sad? and why this hurry, Chaerea?
Whence come you?
CHaeR. I? I can not tell, i'faith, Whence I am come, or whither I am going, I've so entirely lost myself.
PAR. And why?
CHaeR. I am in love.
PAR. Oh brave!
CHaeR. Now, Parmeno, Now you may show what kind of man you are.
You know you've often told me; "Chaerea, Find something out to set your heart upon, And mark how I will serve you!" yes, you know You've often said so, when I scrap'd together All the provisions for you at my father's.
PAR. Away, you trifler!
CHaeR. Nay, in faith, it's true: Now make your promise good! and in a cause Worthy the utmost reachings of your soul: A girl! my Parmeno, not like our misses; Whose mothers try to keep their shoulders down, And bind their bosoms, that their shapes may seem Genteel and slim. Is a girl rather plump?
They call her nurse, and stint her in her food: Thus art, in spits of nature, makes them all Mere bulrushes: and therefore they're belov'd.
PAR. And what's this girl of yours?
CHaeR. A miracle.
PAR. Oh, to be sure!
CHaeR. True, natural red and white; Her body firm, and full of precious stuff!
PAR. Her age?
CHaeR. About sixteen.
PAR. The very prime!
CHaeR. This girl, by force, by stealth, or by entreaty, Procure me! how I care not, so I have her.
PAR. Well, whom does she belong to?
CHaeR. I don't know.
PAR. Whence comes she?
CHaeR. I can't tell.
PAR. Where does she live?
CHaeR. I can't tell neither.
PAR. Where was it you saw her?
CHaeR. Here in the street.
PAR. And how was it you lost her?
CHaeR. Why it was that, which I so fumed about, As I came hither! nor was ever man So jilted by good fortune as myself.
PAR. What mischief now?
CHaeR. Confounded luck.