SYRUS. Distraction! what disturbances have I, Wretch that I am, all unawares created!
CLIT. Would I were dead!
CHREM. Learn first what 'tis to live.
When you know that, if life displeases you, Then talk of dying.
SYRUS. Master, may I speak?
CHREM. Speak.
SYRUS. But with safety?
CHREM. Speak.
SYRUS. How wrong is this, Or rather what extravagance and madness, To punish him for my offense!
CHREM. Away!
Do not you meddle. No one blames you, Syrus!
Nor need you to provide a sanctuary, Or intercessor.
SYRUS. What is it you do?
CHREM. I am not angry, nor with you, nor him: Nor should you take offense at what I do.
(_Exit CHREMES._
SCENE IV.
_Manent CLITIPHO, SYRUS._
SYRUS. He's gone. Ah, would I'd ask'd him----
CLIT. Ask'd what, Syrus?
SYRUS. Where I should eat, since he has cast us off.
You, I perceive, are quarter'd on your sister.
CLIT. Is't come to this, that I should be in fear Of starving, Syrus?
SYRUS. So we do but live, There's hope----
CLIT. Of what?
SYRUS. That we shall have rare stomachs.
CLIT. D'ye jest at such a time as this; And lend me no assistance by your counsel?
SYRUS. Nay, I was studying for you even now.
And was so all the while your father spoke.
And far as I can understand this----
CLIT. What?
SYRUS. Stay, you shall have it presently. (_Thinking._)
CLIT. Well, what?
SYRUS. Thus then: I don't believe that you're their son.
CLIT. How Syrus! are you mad?
SYRUS. I'll speak my thoughts.
Be you the judge. While they had you alone, While yet there was no other nearer joy, You they indulg'd, and gave with open hand: But now a daughter's found, their real child, A cause is found to drive you forth.
CLIT. 'Tis like.
SYRUS. Think you this fault so angers him?
CLIT. I think not.
SYRUS. Consider too; 'tis ever found that mothers Plead for their sons, and in the father's wrath Defend them. 'Tis not so at present.
CLIT. True.
What shall I do then, Syrus?
SYRUS. Ask of them The truth of this suspicion. Speak your thoughts.
If 'tis not so, you'll speedily incline them Both to compassion; or, if so, be told Whose son you are.
CLIT. Your counsel's good. I'll do't.
[Changes:
_Manent CLITIPHO, SYRUS._ _names supplied from 1768 edition_]
SCENE V.
_SYRUS alone._
A lucky thought of mine! for Clitipho: The less he hopes, so much more easily Will he reduce his father to good terms.
Besides, who knows but he may take a wife?
No thanks to Syrus neither.--But who's here?
Chremes!--I'm off: for seeing what has pass'd, I wonder that he did not order me To be truss'd up immediately. I'll hence To Menedemus, and prevail on him To intercede for me: as matters stand, I dare not trust to our old gentleman. (_Exit SYRUS._
SCENE VI.
_Enter CHREMES, SOSTRATA._