SCENE I.
CHREM. 'Tis now just daybreak.--Why delay I then To call my neighbor forth, and be the first To tell him of his son's return?--The youth, I understand, would fain not have it so.
But shall I, when I see this poor old man Afflict himself so grievously, by silence Rob him of such an unexpected joy, When the discov'ry can not hurt the son?
No, I'll not do't; but far as in my pow'r Assist the father. As my son, I see, Ministers to th' occasions of his friend, Associated in counsels, rank, and age, So we old men should serve each other too.
SCENE II.
_Enter MENEDEMUS._
MENE. (_to himself_). Sure I'm by nature form'd for misery Beyond the rest of humankind, or else 'Tis a false saying, though a common one, "That time assuages grief." For ev'ry day My sorrow for the absence of my son Grows on my mind: the longer he's away, The more impatiently I wish to see him, The more pine after him.
CHREM. But he's come forth. (_Seeing MENEDEMUS._) Yonder he stands. I'll go and speak with him.
Good-morrow, neighbor! I have news for you; Such news as you'll be overjoy'd to hear.
MENE. Of my son, Chremes?
CHREM. He's alive and well.
MENE. Where?
CHREM. At my house.
MENE. My son?
CHREM. Your son.
MENE. Come home?
CHREM. Come home.
MENE. My dear boy come? my Clinia?
CHREM. He.
MENE. Away then! prithee, bring me to him.
CHREM. Hold!
He cares not you should know of his return, And dreads your sight because of his late trespass.
He fears, besides, your old severity Is now augmented.
MENE. Did not you inform him The bent of my affections?
CHREM. Not I.
MENE. Wherefore, Chremes?
CHREM. Because 'twould injure both yourself and him To seem of such a poor and broken spirit.
MENE. I can not help it. Too long, much too long, I've been a cruel father.
CHREM. Ah, my friend, You run into extremes; too niggardly, Or, too profuse; imprudent either way.
First, rather than permit him entertain A mistress, who was then content with little, And glad of any thing, you drove him hence: Whereon the girl was forc'd against her will, To grow a common gamester for her bread: And now she can't be kept without much cost, You'd squander thousands. For to let you know How admirably madam's train'd to mischief, How finely form'd to ruin her admirers, She came to my house yesternight with more Than half a score of women at her tail, Laden with clothes and jewels.--If she had A Prince to her gallant, he could not bear Such wild extravagance: much less can you.
MENE. Is she within too?
CHREM. She within! Aye, truly.
I've found it to my cost: for I have given To her and her companions but one supper; And to give such another would undo me.
For, not to dwell on other circumstances, Merely to taste, and smack, and spirt about.
What quantities of wine has she consum'd!
_This is too rough_, she cries; _some softer, pray!_ I have pierc'd every vessel, ev'ry cask; Kept ev'ry servant running to and fro: All this ado, and all in one short night!
What, Menedemus, must become of you, Whom they will prey upon continually?
Now, afore Heaven, thinking upon this, I pitied you.
MENE. Why let him have his will; Waste, consume, squander; I'll endure it all, So I but have him with me.
CHREM. If resolv'd To take that course, I hold it of great moment That he perceive not you allow of this.
MENE. What shall I do then?
CHREM. Any thing much rather Than what you mean to do: at second-hand Supply him; or permit his slave to trick you; Though I perceive they're on that scent already, And privately contriving how to do't.
There's Syrus, and that little slave of yours In an eternal whisper: the young men Consulting too together: and it were Better to lose a talent by these means, Than on your plan a mina: for at present Money is not the question, but the means To gratify the youth the safest way.
For if he once perceives your turn of mind, And that you'd rather hazard life, and wealth, Than part from him; ah, Menedemus, what A window to debauchery you'll open!
Nay, life itself will grow a burden to you; For too much liberty corrupts us all.
Whatever comes into his head, he'll have; Nor think if his demand be right or wrong.
You, on your part, to see your wealth and son Both wreck'd, will not be able to endure.
You'll not comply with his demands; whereon He falls to his old fence immediately, And knowing where your weak part lies, will threaten To leave you instantly.
MENE. 'Tis very like.
CHREM. Now on my life I have not clos'd my eyes, Nor had a single wink of sleep this night, For thinking how I might restore your son.
MENE. Give me your hand: and let me beg you, Chremes, Continue to assist me!
CHREM. Willingly.
MENE. D'ye know what I would have you do at present?
CHREM. What?
MENE. Since you have found out they meditate Some practice on me, prithee, urge them on To execute it quickly: for I long To grant his wishes, long to see him straight.
CHREM. Let me alone. I must lay hold of Syrus, And give him some encouragement.--But see!
Some one, I know not who, comes forth: In, in, Lest they perceive that we consult together!
I have a little business too in hand.
Simus and Crito, our two neighbors here, Have a dispute about their boundaries; And they've referr'd it to my arbitration, I'll go and tell them, 'tis not in my power To wait on them, as I propos'd to-day.
I will be with you presently.