 Act 1 of Heighten Timor-Ruminous, The Self-Tormentor by Terence Translated by Henry Thomas Riley This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Heighten Timor-Ruminous, The Self-Tormentor Dramatis Personae Cremes, an old gentleman living in the country, read by Adrian Stevens Mededemus, an old gentleman, his neighbour, read by Todd Clinia, son of Mededemus, read by Alan Mapstone Clitifo, son of Cremes, read by Thomas Peter Jomo, servant of Clinia, read by Nima Sirus, servant of Clitifo, read by Larry Wilson Sestrada, wife of Cremes, read by Eva Davis Antifola, a young woman beloved by Clinia, read by T.J. Burns Bacchus, a courtesan, the mistress of Clitifo, read by Sonia The Nurse of Antifola, read by B.L. Newman Phrygia, maid-servant to Bacchus, read by Leannio Stage Directions, read by Michael Max Scene In the country near Athens, before the houses of Cremes and Mededemus The title of the play It is from the Greek of Menander, performed at the Megalansian Games Lucius Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius Velarius Flaccus, being Carulli Adiles Ambivius Terpio performed it Flaccus, the freeman of Claudius, composed the music The first time it was performed to the music of treble and bass flutes The second time of two treble flutes It was acted three times Marcus Juventius and Titus Sampronius, being consoles The Prologue Lest it should be a matter of surprise to any one of you Why the poet has assigned to an old man a part that belongs to the young That I will first explain to you And then the reason for my coming I will disclose An entire play from an entire Greek one The he-out-and-timo ruminous I am today about to represent From which a twofold plot has been made but one I have shown that it is new and what it is Next I would like to mention who it was that wrote it And whose in Greek it is If I did not think that the greater part of you are aware Now, for what reason I have learned this part in a few words I will explain The poet intended me to be a pleader, not the speaker of a prologue Your decision, he asks, and he has appointed me the advocate If this advocate can avail as much by his oral powers as he has excelled in inventing happily Who can pose this speech which I am about to recite For as to malevolent rumours spreading abroad that he has mixed together many Greek plays While writing a few Latin ones he does not deny that this is the case And that he does not repent of so doing and he affirms that he will do so again He has the example of good poets After which example he thinks it is allowable for him to do what they have done Then as to a malevolent old poet saying that he has suddenly applied himself to dramatic pursuits Relying on the genius of his friends and not on his own natural abilities On that your judgment, your opinion, will prevail Wherefore I do entreat you all that the suggestions of our antagonists may not avail more than those of our favourers Do you be favourable? Grant the means of prospering to those who afford you the means of being spectators of new plays Those I mean without faults That he may not suppose this said in his behalf who lately made the public give way to a slave as he ran along the street Why should he take a madman's part? About his faults he will say more when he brings out some other new ones Unless he puts an end to his caveling Attend with favourable feelings Grant me the opportunity that I may be allowed to act a quiet play in silence That the servant everlastingly running about the angry old man the glutinous parasite The impudent, sharper and the greedy procurer May not always have to be performed by me with the utmost expense of voice and the greatest exertion For my sake, come to the conclusion that this request is fair so that some portion of my labour may be abridged For nowadays those who write new plays do not spare an aged man If there is any peace requiring exertion they come running to me, but if it is a light one it is taken to another company In the present one the style is pure Do you make proof what in each character my ability can effect? If I have never greedily set a high price upon my skill and have come to the conclusion that this is my greatest gain As far as possible to be subservient to your convenience establish in me a precedent That the young may be anxious rather to please you than themselves Act the first, scene one Enter Kremes a menodemus with a spade in his hand who falls to digging Although this acquaintancehip between us is of very recent date From the time in fact of your purchasing and estate here in the neighbourhood Yet either your good qualities or our being neighbours which I take to be a sort of friendship Induces me to inform you frankly and familiarly that you appear to me to labour beyond your years And beyond what your affairs require for in the name of gods and men What would you have? What can be your aim? You are, as I conjecture, sixty years of age or more No man in these parts has a better or a more valuable estate No one more servants and yet you discharge their duties just as diligently as if there were none at all However early in the morning I go out and however late in the evening I return home I see you either digging or plowing or doing something in fact in the fields You take respite not an instant and are quite regardless of yourself I am very sure that this is not done for your amusement But really I am vexed how little work is done here If you were to employ the time you spent in labouring yourself in keeping your servants at work You would profit much more Have you so much leisure, Kremis, from your own affairs That you can attend to those of others, those which don't concern you? I am a man and nothing that concerns a man do I deem a matter of indifference to me Suppose that I wish either to advise you in the matter or to be informed myself If what you do is right that I may do the same If it is not then I may dissuade you It's requisite for me to do so Do you, as it is necessary for you to do Is it requisite for any person to torment himself? It is for me If you have any affliction I could wish it otherwise But Prithee, what sorrow is this of yours? How have you deserved so ill of yourself? Alas, alas He begins to weep Do not weep But make me acquainted with it whatever it is Do not be reserved for nothing Trust me, I tell you, either by consolation or by counsel or by any means I will aid you Do you wish to know this matter? Yes, and for the reason I mentioned to you I will tell you But still, in the meantime lay down that rake, don't fatigue yourself By no means What can be your object? Tries to take the rake from him Do leave me alone, that I may give myself no respite from my labour I will not allow it, I tell you Taking the rake from him Ah, that's not fair Cremus, poisoning the rake Phew, such a heavy one as this, pray Such are my desserts Now, speak Laying down the rake I have an only son, a young man Alas, why did I say I have? Rather I should say I had one, Cremus Whether I have him now or not is uncertain Why so? You shall know There is a poor old woman here, a stranger from Corinth Her daughter, a young woman, he fell in love with In so much that he almost regarded her as his wife All this took place unknown to me When I discovered the matter, I began to reprove him Not with gentleness, not in the way suited to the lovesick mind of the youth But with violence and after the usual method of fathers I was daily reproaching him Look, you, do you expect to be allowed any longer to act thus, myself, your father being alive To be keeping a mistress pretty much as though your wife? You are mistaken, Clinia, and you don't know me if you fancy that I am willing that you should be called my son, just as long as you do what becomes you But if you do not do so, I shall find out how it becomes me to act towards you This arises from nothing, in fact, but too much idleness At your time of life I did not devote my time to dallions But in consequence of my poverty departed hence for Asia And there acquired in arms both riches and military glory At length the matter came to this The youth, from hearing the same thing so often, and with such severity, was overcome He supposed that I, through age and affection, had more judgment and foresight for him than himself He went off to Asia, Kremys, to serve under the king What is it you say? He departed without my knowledge, and has been gone these three months Both are to be blamed Although I still think this step shows an ingenious and enterprising disposition When I learned this from those who were in the secret I returned home sad And with feelings almost overwhelmed and distracted through grief I sat down My servants run to me, they take off my shoes Then some make all haste to spread the couches and to prepare a repast Each according to his ability did zealously what he could in order to alleviate my sorrow When I observed this I began to reflect thus What, are so many persons anxious for my sake alone to pleasure myself only? Are so many female servants to provide me with dress? Shall I alone keep up such an expensive establishment While my only son, who ought equally or even more so to enjoy these things Inasmuch as his age is better suited for the enjoyment of them Him, poor youth, have I driven away from home by my severity Were I to do this, really I should deem myself deserving of any calamity But so long as he leads this life of penury, banished from his country through my severity I will revenge his wrongs upon myself, toiling, making money, saving and laying up for him At once I set out about it I left nothing in the house, neither movables nor clothing Everything I scraped together Slaves, male and female, except those who could easily pay for their keep by working in the country All of them I set up to auction and sold I at once put up a bill to sell my house I collected somewhere about fifteen talents and purchased this farm Here I fatigue myself I have come to this conclusion, cremes, that I do my son a less injury while I am unhappy And that it is not right for me to enjoy any pleasure here Until such time as he returns home safe to share it with me I believe you to be of an affectionate disposition towards your children And him to be an obedient son If one were to manage him rightly or prudently But neither did you understand him sufficiently well nor he you I think that happens where persons don't live on terms of frankness together You never showed him how highly you valued him Nor did he ever dare put that confidence in you which is due to a father Had this been done these troubles would never have befallen you Such is the fact I confess The greatest fault is on my side But still, Menadamus, I hope for the best I trust that he'll be here safe before long Oh, that the gods would grant it They will do so Now, if it is convenient to you The festival of Bacchus is being kept here today I wish you to give me your company I cannot Why not? Do pray, spare yourself a little while Your absent son would wish you to do so It is not right that I, who have driven him hence to endure hardships Should now shun them myself Is such your determination? It is Then kindly fare you well And you the same Goes into his house Seen to Cremus alone To himself He has forced tears from me And I do pity him But as the day is far gone I must remind Fania, this neighbour of mine To come to dinner I'll go see whether he is at home Goes to Fania's door, makes the inquiry And returns There was no occasion for me to remind him They tell me he has been some time already at my house It's I myself I'm making my guests wait I'll go indoors immediately But what means the noise at the door of my house I wonder who's coming out I'll step aside here He stands aside Scene three Enter Clitifo from the house of Cremus Clitifo at the door to Clinia within There is nothing Clinia for you to fear as yet They have not been long by any means And I'm sure that she will be with you presently along with the messenger Do at once dismiss these causes apprehensions which are tormenting you Cremus apart Who is my son talking to? Makes his appearance Clitifo to himself Here comes my father whom I wish to see I'll accost him Father, you have met me opportunity What's the matter? Do you know this neighbour of ours, Menedimus? Very well Do you know that he has a son? I have heard that he has in Asia He is not in Asia, father He is at our house What is it you say? Upon his arrival, after he had just landed from the ship I immediately brought him to dine with us For from our very childhood upward I have always been on intimate terms with him You announced to me a great pleasure How much I wish that Menedimus had accepted my invitation to make one of us That at my house I might have been the first to surprise him We're not expecting it with this delight And yet there's time enough Take care what you do There is no necessity, father, for doing so For what reason? Why, because he is yet undetermined what to do with himself He is but just arrived If he has everything, his father's displeasure And how his mistress may be disposed toward him He loves her to distraction On her account, this trouble and going abroad took place I know it He has just sent a servant into the city to her And I ordered our Cirrus to go with him What does Clinia say? What does he say? That he is wretched Wretched? Whom could we less suppose so? What is there wanting for him to enjoy everything That among men, in fact, are esteemed to his blessings? Parents? A country in prosperity? Friends? Family? Relations? Riches? And yet all these are just according to the disposition Of him who possesses them To him who knows how to use them They are blessings To him who does not use them rightly They are evils I But he always was a morose, old man And now I dread nothing more, Father Than that in his displeasure You'll be doing something to him more than his justifiable What? He? Aside But I'll restrain myself For that, the other one, should be in fear of his father Is of service to him What is it you are saying to yourself? I'll tell you However the case stood Here ought still to have remained at home Perhaps his father was a little stricter than he liked He should have put up with it For whom ought he to bear with If he would not bear with his own father Was it reasonable that he should live After his son's humour Or his son after his? And as to charging him with harshness It is not the fact For the severities of fathers Are generally of one character Those I mean who are in some degree reasonable men They do not wish their sons to be always wenching They do not wish them to be always carousing They give a limited allowance Yet all this tends to a virtuous conduct But when the mind, glitifo, has once enslaved itself By vicious appetites It must of necessity follow similar pursuits This is a wise maxim To take warning from others Of what may be to your own advantage I believe so I'll now go hence indoors To see what we have for dinner Do you, seeing what is the time of day Mind and take care not to be anywhere out of the way Goes into his house And exit, glitifo End of Act I Act II of He out in Timoruminus The self-tormentor by Terence Translated by Henry Thomas Riley This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Act II Scene I Enter Glitifo to himself What partial judges are all fathers in regard to all of us young men, in thinking it reasonable for us to become old men all at once from boys, and not to participate in those things which youth is naturally inclined to? They regulate us by their own desires, such as they now are, not as they once were. If ever I have a son, he certainly shall find in me an indulgent father, for the means both of knowing and of pardoning his faults shall be found by me, not like mine, but by means of another person, discloses to me his own sentiments. I am plagued to death, when he drinks a little more than usual, what pranks of his own he does relate to me. Now he says, take warning from others of what may be to your advantage. How shrewd! He certainly does not know how deaf I am at the moment when he is telling his stories. Just now the words of my mistress make more impression upon me. Give me this, and bring me that, she cries. I have nothing to say to her in answer, and no one is there more wretched than myself. But this clinia, although he as well has cares enough of his own, still has a mistress of virtuous and modest breeding, and a stranger to the arts of the courtesan. Mine is a craving, saucy, hotty, extravagant creature full of lofty heirs, than all that I have to give her is fair words, for I make it a point not to tell her that I have nothing. This misfortune I met with not long since, nor does my father, yet, know anything of the matter. Exit. Seen to. Enter clinia from the heist of Kremers to himself. If my love affairs had been prosperous for me, I am sure she would have been here by this. But I am afraid that the damsel has been led astray here in my absence. Many things combine to strengthen this opinion in my mind. See the place, her age, a worthless mother, under whose control she is, with whom nothing but gain is precious. Enter critifo. Clinia. Alas, wretched me! Do pray, take care that no one coming out of your father's house sees you here by accident. I will do so. But really my mind presages I know not what misfortune. Do persist in making up your mind upon that before you know what is the fact? Had no misfortune happened, she would have been here by this. She'll be here presently. When will that presently be? You don't consider that it is a great way from care. Besides, you know the ways of women, while they are bestowing themselves, and while they are making preparations a whole year passes by. Oh, critifo, I'm afraid. Take courage. Look, here comes Dromo, together with Cirrus. They are close at hand. They stand aside. Scene three. Enter Cirrus and Dromo, conversing at a distance. Do you say so? Is as I told you. But in the meantime, while we've been carrying on our discourse, these women have been left behind. Critifo, apart. Don't you hear, Clinia, your mistress is ghost at hand. Clinia, apart. Why, yes, I do hear now at last, and I see and revive, Critifo. No wonder, they are so encumbered, they are bringing a troop of female attendants with them. Clinia, apart. I'm undone. Whence come these female attendants? Critifo, apart. Do you ask me? We ought not to have left them, what quantity of things they are bringing. Clinia, apart. Come, me. Jewels of gold and clothes. It's growing late too, and they don't know the way. It was very foolish of us to leave them. Just go back, Dromo, and meet them. Make haste, why do you delay? Exit, Dromo. Woe unto wretched me, and what high hopes am I fallen? What's the matter? Why, what is it that troubles you? Do you ask what it is? Why, don't you see, attendants, jewels of gold, and clothes, for two, whom I left here with only one little servant girl, whence do you suppose that they come? Oh, now at last I understand you. To himself. Good gods, what a multitude there is. Our house will hardly hold them, I'm sure. How much they will eat, how much they will drink. What will there be more wretched than our old gentleman? Catching sight of Clinia and Critifo. But look, I spy the persons I was wanting. Oh, chupis, sir. Why, where is fidelity gone? While I distractedly wandering have abandoned my country for your sake, you in the meantime and Tifola have been enriching yourself, and have forsaken me in these troubles. You for whose sake I am in extreme disgrace. And have been disobedient to my father. On whose account I am now ashamed and grieved, that he who used to lecture me about the manners of these women advised me in vain, and was not able to wean me away from her. Which however I shall now do. Whereas, when it might have been advantageous to me to do so, I was unwilling. There is no being more wretched than I. Cyrus to himself. He certainly has been misled by our words which we have been speaking here. Allowed. Clinia, you imagine your mistress quite different from what she really is. For both her mode of life is the same, and her disposition toward you is the same as it always was, so far as we could form a judgment from the circumstances themselves. How so pretty! For nothing in the world could I rather wish for just now than that I have suspected this without reason. This in the first place, then, that you may not be ignorant of anything that concerns her. The old woman, who was formerly said to be her mother, was not a soul. She is dead. This I overheard by accident from her, as we came along while she was telling the other one. Pray, who is the other one? Today, what I have begun I wish first to relate. Closifo, I shall come to that afterward. Make haste, then. First of all, then, when we came to the house, Dromo knocked at the door. A certain old woman came out. When she opened the door, he directly rushed in, I followed. The old woman bolted the door and returned to her wool. On this occasion might be known Clinia, or else on none, in what pursuits she passed her life during your absence, when we thus came upon a female unexpectedly. For this circumstance then gave us an opportunity of judging of the course of her daily life, a thing which especially discovers what is the disposition of each individual. We found her industriously plying at the web, plainly clad in a morning dress on account of this old woman, I suppose, who was lately dead, without golden ornaments dressed besides just like those who only dress for themselves, and patched up with no worthless woman's trumpery. Her hair was loose, long, and thrown back negligently about her temples. To Clinia. Do you hold your peace? My dear Cyrus, do not without cause throw me into ecstasies. I beseech you. The old woman was spinning the woof. There was only one little silver girl besides. She was weaving together with them, covered with patched clothes, slovenly, and dirty with filthiness. If this is true, Clinia, as I believe it is, who is there more fortunate than you? Do you mark this girl, whom he speaks of, as dirty and drab-ish? This too is a strong indication that the mistress is out of harm's way, when her confidante is in such ill plight, for it is a rule that those who wish to gain access to the mistress thirst to bribe the maid. Clinia. To Cyrus. Go on, I beseech you, and beware of endeavouring to purchase favour by telling me an untruth. What did she say when you mentioned me? When we told her that you had returned, and had requested her to come to you, the damsel instantly put away the web and covered her face all over with tears, so that you might easily perceive that it really was caused by her affection for you. So, may the deities bless me. I know not where I am for joy. I was so alarmed before. But I was sure that there was no reason, Clinia. Come now, Cyrus, tell me in my turn who this other lady is. Your bark is whom we are bringing. Ha! What? Barkiffs! How now you rascal! Whither are you bringing her? Whither am I bringing her? To our house, to be sure. What? To my father's? To the very same. How the audacious impudence of the fellow! She no great immemorable action is done without some risk. Look now, are you seeking to gain credit for yourself at the hazard of my character, rascal in a point where, if you only make the slightest slip I am ruined? What would you be doing with her? But still. Why still? If you give me leave, I'll tell you. Do give him leave. I give him leave, then. The affair is now just as though when— Plague on it! What roundabout story is he beginning to tell me? Cyrus, he says what's right. Do omit digressions. Come to the point. Really, I cannot hold my tongue. Clitifo, you are every way unjust and cannot possibly be endured. Upon my faith he ought to have a hearing. To clitifo. To be silent. You wish to indulge in your amours. You wish to possess your mistress. You wish that to be procured wherewithal to make her presence. In getting this you do not wish the risk to be your own. You are not wise to no purpose. If indeed it is being wise to wish for that which cannot happen, either the one must be had with the other, or the one must be let alone with the other. Now, of these two alternatives, consider which one you would prefer. Although this project which I have formed, I know to be both a wise and a safe one. For there is an opportunity for your mistress to be with you at your father's house, without fear of a discovery. Besides, by these self-same means, I shall find the money which you have promised her. To effect which you have already made my ear's deaf with entreaty me. What would you have more? If indeed this could be brought about. If indeed you shall know it by experience. Well, well, disclose this project of yours. What is it? We will pretend that your mistress is his. According to Clenia. Very fine. Tell me, what is he to do with his own? Is she, too, to be called his, as if one was not a sufficient discredit? No, she shall be taken to your mother. Why there? It would be tedious, Cletifo, if I were to tell you why I do so. I have a good reason. Stuff! I see no ground sufficiently solid why it should be for my advantage to incur this risk. Turning as if going. Stay. If there is this risk I have another project which you must both confess to be free from danger. Find out something of that description, I beseech you. By all means. I'll go meet her and tell her to return home. Ha! What was it you said? I'll rid you at once of all fears so that you may sleep at your ease upon either ear. What am I to do now? What are you to do? The goods that— Only tell me the truth, Cerys. Dispatch quickly. You'll be wishing just now, too late and in vain. Going. The gods provide. Enjoy while yet you may. For you know not— Cerys, I say. Cerys, moving on. Go on. I shall still do that which I said. Here you may have another opportunity, hereafter, or ever again. You faith that's true. Cerys, Cerys, I say Haki. Haki, Cerys. Cerys, aside. He warms a little. To Clitifu. What is it you want? Come back. Come back. Cerys, coming back to him. Here I am. Tell me what you would have. You'll be presently saying that this, too, doesn't please you. Nay, Cerys, I commit myself and my love and my reputation entirely to you. You are the seducer. Take care you don't deserve any blame. Ah, it is ridiculous for you to give me that caution, Clitifu, as if my interest was less at stake in this affair than yours. Here if any ill luck should perchance befall us, words will be in readiness for you, but for this individual blows. Pointing to himself. For that reason this matter is by no means to be neglected on my part. But do prevail upon him. Pointing to Clinia. To pretend that she is his own mistress. You may rest assured I'll do so. The matter has now come to that pass, that it is a case of necessity. It is with good reason that I love you, Clinia. But she mustn't be tripping at all. She is thoroughly tutored in her part. But this I wonder at, how you could so easily prevail upon her, who is wont to treat such great people with scorn. I came to her at the proper moment, which in all things is of the first importance. For there I found a certain wretched captain soliciting her favours. She artfully managed the man, so as to inflame his eager passions by denial. And this too, that it might be especially pleasing to yourself. But hark you, take care, will you, not to be imprudently impetuous. You know your father, how quick-sighted he is in these matters. And I know you, how unable you are to command yourself. Keep clear of words of double meaning. Your side-long looks, sighing, hymning, coughing, tittering. You shall have to commend me. Take care of that, please. You yourselves shall be surprised at me. But how quickly the ladies have come up with us. Where are they? Cyrus stands before him. Why do you hold me back? For the present she is nothing to you. I know it, but for my father. But now in the meantime— Not a bit more. Do let me. I will not let you. I tell you. But only for a moment, pray. I forbid it. Only to salute her. If you are wise, get you gone. I'm off. But what's he to do? Pointing at Clenia. He will stay here. Oh, happy man. Take yourself off. Exit Critifo. Scene four. Enter Bacchus and Antephila at a distance. From my word, my dear Antephila, I commend you, and think you fortunate in having made it your study that your manners should be conformable to those good looks of yours. And so may the gods bless me. I do not at all wonder if every man is in love with you, for your discourse has been approved to me what kind of disposition you possess. And when now I reflect in my mind upon your way of life, and that of all of you in fact who keep the public at a distance from yourselves, it is not surprising both that you are of that disposition, and that we are not. For it is your interest to be virtuous. Those with whom we are acquainted will not allow us to be so. For our lovers, allured merely by our beauty, court us for that. When that has faded, they transfer their affections elsewhere, and unless we have made provision in the meantime for the future, we live in destitution. Now with you, when you have once resolved to pass your life with one man whose manners as specially kindred to your own, those persons become attached to you. By this kindly feeling you are truly devoted to each other, and no calamity can ever possibly interrupt your love. I know nothing about other women. I am sure that I have indeed always used every endeavour to derive my own happiness from his happiness. Clinia, a part over-hearing Antiphala. Ah, it is for that reason, my Antiphala, that you alone have now caused me to return to my native country. For while I was absent from you, all other hardships which I encountered were like to me, save the being deprived of you. Cyrus, a part. Ah, I believe it. Cyrus, I can scarce endure it, wretched as I am, that I should not be allowed to possess one of such a disposition at my own discretion. Nay, so far as I understand your father, he will for a long time yet be giving you a hard task. Why, who is that young man that's looking at us? Antiphala, seeing Clinia. Ah, do support me, I entreat you. Prithee, what is the matter with you? I shall die, alas, I shall die. Why are you thus surprised, Antiphala? Is it Clinia that I see or not? Whom do you see? Clinia, running to embrace Antiphala. Blessings on you, my life. Oh, my long wish for Clinia, blessings on you. How fair you, my love. I am overjoyed that you have returned safe. And do I embrace you, Antiphala, so passionately longed for by my soul? Go indoors, for the old gentleman has been waiting for us some time. They go into the house of Kremes. End of Act II. Act III of He out in Timoruminus, the self-tormentor, by Terence. Act III. Scene I. Enter Kremes from his house, to himself. It is now daybreak. Why do I delay to knock at my neighbour's door, that he may learn from me the first that his son has returned? Although I am aware that the youth would not prefer this, but when I see him tormenting himself so miserably about his absence, can I conceal a joy so unhoped for, especially when there can be no danger to him from the discovery? I will not do so, but as far as I can, I will assist the old man, as I see my son hating his friend and year's mate, and acting as his confidant in his concerns, it is but right that we old men as well should assist each other. Enter Menedimas from his house, to himself. Assuredly, I was either born with a disposition peculiarly suited for misery, or else that saying which I hear commonly repeated that Time Assage's human sorrow is false. For really, my sorrow about my son increases daily, and the longer he is away from me, the more anxiously do I wish for him, and the more I miss him. Cremes, apart. But I see him coming out of his house. I'll go speak to him. Menedimas, good morrow, I bring you news which you would especially desire to be imparted. Hooray! Have you heard anything about my son, Cremes? He is alive and well. Why, where is he, pray? Here, at my house, at home. My son? Such is the fact. Come home? Certainly. My son, Clenia, come home. I say so. Let us go. Lead me to him. I beg of you. He does not wish you yet to know of his return, and he shuns your presence. He's afraid that, on account of that fault, your former severity may even be increased. Did you not tell him how I was affected? No. For what reason, Cremes? Because there you would judge extreme ill both for yourself and for him, if you were to show yourself of a spirit so weak and irresolute. I cannot help it. Enough already, enough. Have I proved a rigorous father? Ah, Menodamus, you are too precipitate in either extreme, either with profuseness, or with parsimony too great, into the same error will you fall from the one side as from the other. In the first place, formally, rather than allow your son to visit a young woman who was then content with the very little, and to whom anything was acceptable, you frightened him away from here. After that she began, quite against her inclination, to seek a subsistence upon the town. Now when she cannot be supported without a great expense, you are ready to give anything. For that you may know how perfectly she is trained to extravagance. In the first place she has already brought with her more than ten female attendants, all laden with clothes and jewels of gold. If a satrap had been her admirer, he could never have supported her expenses, much less can you. Is she at your house? Is she, do you ask? I have felt it, for I have given her and her retinue one dinner. Had I to give them another such, it would be all over with me. For to pass by other matters, what a quantity of wine she did consume for me in toasting only, saying thus, this wine is too acid-respected, sir. Do please look for something more mellow. I opened all the casks, all the vessels. She kept all on the stir, and this but a single night. What do you suppose will become of you, when they are constantly preying upon you? So may the gods prosper me, Menodamus, I do pity your lot. Let him do what he will. Let him take, waste and squander. I am determined to endure it, so long as I only have him with me. If it is your determination thus to act, I hold it to be a very great moment, that he should not be aware that with the full knowledge you grant him this. What shall I do? Anything, rather than what you are thinking of, supply him with money, through some other person, suffer yourself to be imposed upon by the artifices of his servant. Although I have smelt out this too, that they are about that, and are secretly planning it among them. Cyrus is always whispering with that servant of yours. They impart their plans to the young men, but it were better for you to lose a talent this way than a miner the other. The money is not the question now, but this, in what way we can supply it to the young men with the least danger? For if he once knows the state of your feelings, that he would soon apart with your life, and sooner with all your money than allow your son to leave you, phew, what an inlet! Will you be an opening for his debauchery, I, and so much so that henceforth to live cannot be desirable to you? For we all become worse through indulgence. Whatever comes into his head he will be wishing for, nor will he reflect whether that which he desires is right or wrong. You will not be able to endure your estate and him going to ruin. You refuse to supply him. He will immediately have recourse to the means by which he finds that he has the greatest hold upon you, and threaten that he will immediately leave you. You seem to speak the truth, and just what is the fact? If faith have not been sensible of sleep this night with my eyes, for thinking of this, how to restore your son to you? Menidemus, taking his hand. Give me your right hand. I request that you will still act in a like manner, cremes. I am ready to serve you. Do you know what it is I now want you to do? Tell me. As you have perceived that they are laying a plan to deceive me, that they may hasten to complete it, I long to give him whatever he wants. I am now longing to behold him. I'll lend my endeavours. This little business is in my way. Our neighbours, Symus and Crito, are disputing here about boundaries. They have chosen me for arbitrator. I'll go and tell them, as I cannot possibly give them my attention today, as I had stated I would. I'll be here immediately. Exit. Pray do. To himself. Ye gods, by our trust in you, that the nature of all men should be so constituted that they can see and judge if other men's affairs better than their own. Is it because, in our own concerns, we are biased, either with joy or grief, in too greater degree? How much wiser now is he for me than I have been for myself! Rienter, cremes. I have disengaged myself, that I might lend you my services at my leisure. Cyrus must be found and instructed by me in this business. Someone, I know not who, is coming out of my house. Do you step hence-home, that they may not perceive that we are conferring together? Menedymus goes into his house. Seen to. Enter Cyrus from the house of Cremus. Cyrus allied to himself. Run to and fro in every direction. Still money, you must be found. A trap must be laid for the old man. Cremus apart, overhearing him. As I deceived in saying that they were planning this, that servant of Clynus is somewhat dull. Therefore that province has been assigned to this one of ours. Who's that speaking? Catches sight of Cremus. Ah, man, done! Did he hear it, I wonder? Cyrus! Well? What are you doing here? All right, really. I'm quite surprised at you, Cremus, up so early after drinking so much yesterday. Too much? Not too much, say you. Really, you've seen the old age of an eagle as the Seine is. Poo! Poo! A pleasant and agreeable woman, this courtesan. Why, so she seemed to me, in fact. And really of handsome appearance. Well enough. Not like those of former days, but as times are now. Very passable. Nor do I in the least wonder that Clynia dotes upon her. She has a father, a certain covetous, visible and niggardly person, this neighbour of ours. Pointing to the house. Do you know him? Yet as if he was not abounding in wealth, his son ran away through want. Are you aware that it is the fact, as I am saying? How should I not be aware, a fellow that deserves the mill? Who? That servant of the young gentleman, I mean. Sirus, aside. Sirus, I was sadly afraid for you. To suffer it to come to this. What was he to do? Do you ask the question? He ought to have found some expedient, contrived some stratagem, by means of which there might have been something for the young man to give to his mistress, and thus have saved this crab-dold fellow in spite of himself. You are surely joking! This ought to have been done by him, Sirus. How now! Pray, do you commend servants who deceive their masters? Upon occasion I certainly do commend them. Quite right. Inasmuch as it often is the remedy for great disturbances, then would this man's only son have stayed at home? Sirus, aside. Whether he says this in jest or in earnest I don't know. Surely in fact that he gives me additional zest for longing still more to trick him. And what is he now waiting for, Sirus? Is it that his father drives him away from here a second time, when he could no longer support her expenses? Has he no plot on foot against the old gentleman? He is a stupid fellow. Then you ought to assist him for the sake of the young man. For my part I can do so easily, if you command me, for I know well in what fashion it is usually done. So much the better he faith. It is not my way to tell and untruth. Do it, then. But Hark you, just take care and remember this, in case anything of this sort should perchance happen at a future time. Such are human affairs. Your son might do the same. The necessity will not arise, I trust. If faith I trust so too. Nor do I say so now, because I have suspected him in any way, but in case none the more. You see what his age is. Aside. And truly, creamies, if an occasion does happen, I may be able to handle you right handsomely. As to that, we'll consider what is requisite when the occasion does happen, at present to you set about this matter. Goes into his house. Cyrus to himself. Ah, never on any occasion did I hear my master talk more to the purpose, nor at any time could I believe that I was authorised to play the rogue with greater impunity. I wonder who it is coming out of our house. Stands aside. In three. Enter Cremus and Clitipho from the house of the former. Pray, what does this mean? What behaviour is this, Clitipho? Is this acting as becomes you? What have I done? Do I not see you just now putting your hand into this courtesan's bosom? Cyrus apart. Ah, it's all up with us. I'm utterly undone. What I? With these self-same eyes I saw it. I don't deny it. Besides you wrong him unworthily in not keeping your hands off, for it is indeed a gross affront to entertain a person, your friend, at your house, and to take liberties with his mistress. Yesterday, for example, at wine, how rude you were. Cyrus apart. Dears the truth. How annoying you were, so much so that for my part as the gods may prosper me, I dreaded what in the end might be the consequence. I understand, lovers, they resent highly things that you would not imagine. But he has full confidence in me, Father, that I would not do anything of that kind. Be it so still, at least you ought to go somewhere for a little time away from their presence. Passion prompts to many a thing. Your presence acts as a restraint upon doing them. I form a judgment from myself. There's not one of my friends this day to whom I would venture, Clitipho, to disclose all my secrets. With one his station forbids it. With another I'm ashamed of the action itself, lest I may appear a fool or devoid of shame. Do you rest assured that he does the same? But it is our part to be sensible of this, and when, and where it is requisite, to show due complacence. Cyrus, coming forward and whispering to Clitipho. What is it he's saying? Clitipho, aside to Cyrus. I'm utterly undone. Clitipho, these are the same injunctions I gave you. You have acted the part of a prudent and discreet person. Hold your tongue, I beg. Very good. Cremus, approaching them. Cyrus, I'm ashamed of him. I believe it, and not without reason. Why he vexes myself even. Clitipho, to Cyrus. Do you persist, then? Faith, I'm saying the truth as it appears to me. May I not go near them? Oh, no. Pray, is there but one way of going near them? Cyrus, aside. Ah, confusion! He'll be betraying himself before I've got the money. Allowed. Cremus, will you give attention to me who am but a silly person? What am I to do? Bid him go somewhere out of the way. Where am I to go? Where you please, leave the place to them. Be off, and take a walk. Take a walk? Where? Pshaw, just as if there was no place to walk in. Why then go this way, that way, where you will. He says right. I'm of his opinion. May the gods extirpate you, Cyrus, for thrusting me away from here. Cyrus, aside, to Clitipho. Then do you for the future keep those hands of yours within bounds? Exit Clitipho. Really now? To Cremus. What do you think? What do you imagine will become of him next, unless, so far as the gods afford you the means, you watch him, correct and admonish him? I'll take care of that. But now, master, he must be looked after by you. It shall be done. If you are wise. For now he minds me less and less every day. What say you? What have you done, Cyrus, about that matter which I was mentioning to you a short time since? Have you any plan that suits you, or not yet even? You mean the design upon Menodemus? I have. I have just hit upon one. You are a clever fellow. What is it? Tell me. I'll tell you, but as one matter arises out of another. Why, what is it, Cyrus? This courtesan is a very bad woman. So she seems. Ah, if you did but know. Oh, shocking! Just see what she is hatching. There was a certain old woman here from Corinth. This Bacchus lent her a thousand silver drachmy. What then? She is now dead. She has left a daughter, a young girl. She has been left with this Bacchus as a pledge for that son. I understand you. She has brought her hither along with her. Her, I mean, who is now with your wife. What then? She is soliciting Clinead once to advance her this money. She says, however, that this girl is to be a security, that at a future time she will repay the thousand pieces of money. Would she really be a security? Dear me, is it to be doubted? I think so. What then do you intend doing? What, I? I shall go to Minidimus. I'll tell him she is a captive from Korea, rich and of noble family. If he redeems her there will be a considerable profit in this transaction. You are in error. Why so? I'll now answer you for Minidimus. I will not purchase her. What is it you say? Do speak more agreeably to our wishes. But there is no occasion. No occasion? Certainly not, if faith. How so, I wonder? You shall soon know. Stop, stop! What is the reason that there is such a great noise at our door? They retire out of sight. End of Act Three Act Four of He out in Timoruminus, the self-tormentor by Terence, translated by Henry Thomas Riley. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act the fourth. Scene one. Sostrata and a nurse in haste from the house of Kremes, and Kremes and Cyrus on the other side of the stage, unperceived. Sostrata holding up a ring and examining it. Unless my fancy deceives me, surely this is the ring which I suspected to be, the same with which my daughter was exposed. Kremes, apart. Cyrus, what is the meaning of these expressions? Nurse, how is it? Does it not seem to you the same? As for me, I said it was the same the very instant that you showed it me. But have you now examined it thoroughly, my dear nurse? Thoroughly. Then go indoors at once, and if she is now done bathing, bring me a word. I'll wait here in the meantime for my husband. Cyrus, apart. She wants you. See what a dish she wants. She is in a serious mood. I don't know why. It is not without cause. I fear what it may be. What it may be? If Hathes shall now surely be announcing some important trifle with a great parade. Sostrata turning round. Ha! My husband. Ha! My wife. I was looking for you. Tell me what you want. In the first place, this I beg of you, not to believe that I have ventured to do anything contrary to your commands. Would you have me believe you in this, although so incredible? Well, I will believe you. Cyrus aside. This excuse portends I know not what offense. Do you remember me being pregnant, and yourself declaring to me, most preemptorily, that if I should bring forth a girl, you would not have it brought up? I know what you have done. You have brought it up. Cyrus aside. Such is the fact, I'm sure. My young master has gained a loss in consequence. Not at all. But there was here an elderly woman of Corinth of no indifferent character. To her I gave it to be exposed. Oh, Jupiter, that there should be such extreme folly in a person's mind. Thus, what have I done? And do you ask the question? If I have acted wrong, my dear Creamies, I have done so in ignorance. This indeed I know for certain, even if you were to deny it, that in everything you both speak and act ignorantly and foolishly, how many blunders you disclose in this single affair. Or in the first place, then, if you had been disposed to obey my orders, the child ought to have been dispatched. You ought not in words to have feigned her death, and in reality to have left hopes of her surviving. But that I pass over, compassion, maternal affection, I allow it, but how finally you did provide for the future. What was your meaning? Do reflect. It's clear beyond a doubt that your daughter was betrayed by you to this old woman. Consider that through you she might make a living by her, or that she might be sold in the open market as a slave. I suppose you reasoned thus. Anything is enough if only her life is saved. What are you to do with those who understand neither law nor right and justice? Be it for better or for worse, be it for them or against them. They see nothing except just what they please. My dear Creamies, I have done wrong. I own. I am convinced. Now this I beg of you, inasmuch as you are more advanced in yours than I, be so much the more ready to forgive, so that your justice may be some protection from my weakness. I'll readily forgive you doing this, of course. But, Sostrata, my easy temper prompts you to do amiss. But whatever the circumstance is, by reason of which this was begun upon, proceed to tell it. Thus we women are all foolishly and wretchedly superstitious. When I delivered the child to her to be exposed, I drew a ring from off my finger, and ordered her to expose it, together with the child, that, if she should die, she might not be without some portion of our possessions. That was right, thereby you proved the saving of yourself and her. Sostrata, holding out the ring. This is that ring. Once did you get it? From the young woman whom Bacchus brought here with her. Cyrus, aside. Ha! What does she say? She gave it to me to keep for her while she went to bathe. At first I paid no attention to it, but after I looked at it, I at once recognized it, and came running to you. What do you suspect now, or have you discovered relative to her? I don't know, unless you inquire of herself when she got it, if that can possibly be discovered. Cyrus, aside. I'm undone. I see more hopes from this incident than I desire. If it is so, she certainly must be ours. Is this woman living to whom you delivered the child? I don't know. What account did she bring to you at the time? That she had done as I had ordered her. Tell me, what is the woman's name that she may be inquired after? Filtery. Cyrus, aside. Is the very same. It's a wonder if she isn't found, and I lost. Sostrata, follow me this way indoors. How much beyond my hopes has this matter turned out? How dreadfully afraid I was, Creamies, that you would now be a feeling as unrelenting as formerly were on exposing the child. Many a time a man cannot be such as he would be if circumstances do not admit of it. Time has now so brought it about that I should be glad of a daughter. Formally I wished for nothing less. Kremis and Sostrata go into the house. Seen to. Cyrus alone. Unless my fancy deceives me, retribution will not be very far off from me. So much by this incident are my forces now utterly driven into straits. Unless I can try by some means that the old man may not come to know that this damsel is his son's mistress. For as to entertaining any hopes about the money, or supposing I could cajole him, it's useless. I shall be sufficiently triumphant if I am allowed to escape with my sides covered. I vex that such a tipped-in morsel has been so suddenly snatched away from my jaws. What am I to do? Or what shall I devise? I must begin upon my plan over again. Nothing is so difficult that it may be found out by seeking. Um, what if I said about it after this fashion? He considers. Ah, that's of no use. What if after this fashion? I effect just about the same, but this I think will do. Ah, mm, it cannot. Ah, yes, excellent, bravo. I found out the best of all. Faith, I do believe that after all, I shall ahold of this same runaway money. Scene three. Enter Clinia at the other side of the stage. Clinia to himself. Nothing can possibly henceforth befall me of such consequence as to cause me uneasiness. So extreme is this joy that has surprised me. Now then I shall give myself up entirely to my father, to be more frugal than even he could wish. Cyrus apart. I wasn't mistaken. She has been discovered, so far as I understand from these words of his. Advancing. I am rejoiced that this matter has turned out for you so much to your wish. Oh, my dear Cyrus, have you heard of it, pray? How shouldn't I, when I was present all the while? Did you ever hear of anything falling out so fortunately for any one? Never. And so may the gods prosper me. I do not now rejoice so much on my own account as hers, whom I know to be deserving of any honor. I believe it, but now Clinia come attend to me in my turn, for your friend's business as well. It must be seen, too, that it is placed in a state of security, lest the old gentleman should now come to know anything about his mistress. Oh, Jupiter! Do be quiet. My antiphala will be mine. Do you still interrupt me thus? What can I do? My dear Cyrus, I'm transported with joy. Do bear with me. And faith, I really do bear with you. We are blessed with the life of the gods. I'm taking pains to no purpose, I doubt. Speak, I hear you. But still you'll not mind it. I will. This must be seen, too, I say, that your friend's business as well is placed in a state of security. For if you now go away from us and leave Bacchus here, our old man will immediately come to know that she is cletifous mistress. If you take her away with you, it will be concealed just as much as it has been hitherto concealed. But still, Cyrus, nothing can make more against my marriage than this. For with what face am I to address my father about it? You understand what I mean? Why not? What can I say? What excuse can I make? Nay, I don't want you to dissemble. Tell me the whole case just as it really is. What is it, you say? I bid you do this. Tell him that you are in love with her, and want her for a wife, that his Bacchus is cletifous mistress. You require a thing that is fair and reasonable and easy to be done. And I suppose, then, you would have me request my father to keep it a secret from your old man. On the contrary, to tell him directly the matter just as it is. What? Are you quite in your senses or sober? Why you were for ruining him outright. For how could he be in a state of security? Tell me that! For my part I yield the palm to this device. Here I do pride myself exultingly in having in myself such exquisite resources and power of address so great as to deceive them both by telling the truth, so that when your old man tells ours that she is his son's mistress, he'll still not believe him. But yet, by these means, you again cut off all hopes of my marriage. For as long as Cremes believes that she is my mistress, he'll not give me his daughter. Perhaps you care little what becomes of me, so long as you provide for him. But the play! Do you suppose I want this pretense to be kept up for an age? Disput for a single day, only till I have secured the money. You be quiet. I ask no more. Is that sufficient? If his father should come to know of it, pray what then? What if I have recourse to those who say, what now if the sky were to fall? I'm afraid to go about it. You're afraid, as if it was not in your power to clear yourself at any time you like and discover the whole matter. Well, well, let Bakis be brought over to our house. Capital, she is coming out of doors. Line four, enter Bakis and Fragia from the house of Cremes. Bakis, pretending not to see Clinia and Cyrus. Oh, to a very fine purpose upon my faith have the promises of Cyrus brought me hither, who agreed to lend me ten mayne. If now he deceives me, oft as he may entreat me to come, he shall come in vain. Or else, when I've promised to come and fix the time, when he has carried word back for certain, and Clitifo is under stretch of expectation, I'll disappoint him and not come. Cyrus will make atonement to me with his back. Clinia apart to Cyrus. She promises you very fairly. Cyrus to Clinia. What do you think she is ingest? She'll do it if I don't take care. Bakis, aside. There is sleep. In faith I'll rouse them. Allowed. My dear Fridja, did you hear about the country's seed of charriness which that man was showing us just now? I heard of it. That it was the next to the farm here on the right-hand side? I remember. Run did the post-haste. The captain is keeping the feast of Bakis at his house. Cyrus apart. What is she going to be at? Tell him I am here very much against my inclination, and I'm detained, but that by some means or other I'll give them the slip and come to him. Fridja moves. Cyrus coming forward. In my faith I'm ruined. Bakis, stay. Stay. Prithee, where are you sending her? Order her to stop. Bakis to Fridja. Be off. Why the money's ready. Why, then I'll stay. Fridja returns. And it will be given you presently. Just when you please, do I press you? But do you know what you are to do, pray? What? You must now go over to the house of Menedimas, and your equipage must be taken over thither. What scheme are you upon, you rascal? What, I? Go any money to give you? Do you think me a proper person for you to play upon? It's not without purpose. Bakis pointing to the house. Why, have I any business, then, with you here? Oh, no. I'm only going to give you what's your own. Ah, then let's be going. Follow this way. Goes to the door of Menedimas and calls. Who there, Dromo? Enter Dromo from the house. Who is it wants me? Cyrus. What's the matter? Take over all the attendants of Bakis to your house here immediately. Why so? Ask no questions. Let them take what they brought here with them. The old gentleman will hope his expenses are lightened by their departure. For sure he little knows how much loss this trifling gain will bring him. You, Dromo, if you are wise, know nothing of what you do know. You shall own that I'm dumb. Clinia, Bakis and Phrygia go into the house of Menedimas and Dromo follows with Bakis' retinue and baggage. Scene five. Enter Kremis from his house. To himself. So may the deities prosper me. I am now concerned for the fate of Menedimas that so great a misfortune should have befallen him to be maintaining that woman with such a retinue. Although I'm well away, he'll not be sensible of it for some days to come. His son was so greatly missed by him, but when he sees such a vast expense incurred by him every day at home and no limit to it, he'll wish that this son would leave him a second time. See, here comes Cyrus most opportunely. Cyrus, to himself as he comes forward. Why delay to accost him? Cyrus! Well? How go-matters! I've been wishing for some time for you to be thrown in my way. You seem then to have affected something, I know not what, with the old gentleman. As to what we were talking of a short time since? No sooner said than done. In real earnest. In real? By my faith I cannot forbear patting your head for it. Come here, Cyrus. I'll do you some good turn for this matter and with pleasure. Patting his head. But if you knew how cleverly it came into my head— Sure! Do you boast because it has turned out according to your wishes? On my word, not I, indeed. I am telling the truth. Tell me how it is. Clinia has told Menodemus that this Bacchus is your cletifo's mistress, and that he has taken her thither with him in order that you might not come to know of it. Very good. Tell me, please, what you think of it. Extremely good, I declare. Why, yes, pretty fair. But listen, what a piece of policy still remains. He is then to say that he has seen your daughter, that her beauty charmed him, as soon as he beheld her, and that he desires her for a wife. Hot! Her that has just been discovered? The same, and in fact he'll request that she may be asked for it. For purpose, Cyrus, for I don't altogether comprehend it. Oh, dear, you are so dull. Perhaps so. Money will be given him for the wedding, with which golden trinkets enclose. Do you understand me? To buy them? Just so. But I neither give nor betroth my daughter to him. But why? Why do you ask, to a fellow? Just as you please. I don't mean that in reality you should give her to him, but that you should pretend it. Pretending is not in my way. Do you mix up these plots of yours so as not to mix me up in them? Do you think that I'll betroth my daughter to a person to whom I will not marry her? I imagine so. By no means. It might have been cleverly managed, and I undertook this affair for the very reason that a short time since you so urgently requested it. I believe you. But for my part, Creamies, I take it a well and good, either way. But still I especially wish you to do your best for it to be brought about, but in some other way. It shall be done. Some other method must be thought of. But as to what I was telling you of, about the money which she owes Tobacus, that must now be repaid her, and you will not, of course, now be having recourse to this method. What have I to do with it? Was it lent to me? Did I give any orders? Had she the power to pawn my daughter without my consent? They quote that saying, Creamies, with good reason. Rigorous law is often rigorous injustice. I will not do so. On the contrary, though others were at liberty, you are not at liberty. All think that you are in good and very easy circumstances. No, rather I'll at once carry it to her myself. Why, no, request your son in preference. For what reason? Why, because the suspicion of being in love with her has been transferred to him with Minadimus. What's then? Because it will seem to be more like probability when he gives it her. And at the same time I shall effect more easily what I wish. Ah, here he comes. Go and bring out the money. I'll bring it. Goes into his house. Scene six. Enter Critifer. To himself. There is nothing so easy but that it becomes difficult when you do it with reluctance. This walk of mine, for instance, though not fatiguing, it has reduced me to weariness. And now I dread nothing more than that I should be packed off somewhere, hence once again, that I may not have access to barquests. Made then all the gods and goddesses, as many as exist, confound you serous with these stratagems and plots of yours. You are always devising something of this kind by means of which to torture me. With you not away with you, to where you deserve, how nearly had your forwardness proved my ruin. Upon my faith I wish it had been so, just what you deserve. Deserve? How so? Really, I'm glad that I've heard this from you, before you had the money which I was just going to give you. What then would you have me to say to you? You've made a fool of me, brought my mistress Hither, whom I'm not allowed to touch. No, I'm not angry then. But do you know where Bacchus is just now? At our house. No. Where then? At Clineas. I'm ruined. Be of good heart. You shall presently carry to her the money that you promised her. You do pray to way. Where from? From your own father. Perhaps you are joking with me. The thing itself will prove it. He didn't. I am a lucky man. Serious, I do love you from my heart. But your father's coming out. Take care not to express surprise at anything, for what reason it is done. Give way at the proper moment, do what he orders, and say but little. Scene 7 Enter Kremes from the house with a bag of money. Where's Clitipho now? Cyrus aside to Clitipho. Say here I am. Here am I. Kremes to Cyrus. Have you told him how it is? I've told him pretty well everything. Take this money and carry it. Holding out the bag. Cyrus aside to Clitipho. Go. Why do you stand still, you stone? Why don't you take it? Very well. Give it to me. Here's the bag. Cyrus to Clitipho. Follow me this way directly. To Kremes. You in the meanwhile will wait here for us till we return, for there's no occasion for us to stay there long. Clitipho and Cyrus go into the house of Minadimas. Kremes to himself. My daughter, in fact, has now had ten min I from me, which I consider has paid for her board. The ten will follow these for clothes, and then she will require two talents for her portion. How many things both just and unjust are sanctioned by custom. Now I'm obliged, neglecting my business, to look out for someone on whom to bestow my property that has been acquired by my labour. Cynate enter Minadimas from his house. Minadimas to Clinia within. My son, I now think myself the happiest of all men, since I find that you have returned to a rational mode of life. Kremes aside. How much he is mistaken. Kremes, you are the very person I wanted. Preserve, so far as in you lies, my son, myself, and my family. Tell me what you would have me to. You have this day found a daughter. What then? Clinia wishes her to be given him for a wife. Prithee, what kind of person are you? Why? Have you already forgotten what passed between us concerning a scheme that by that method some money might be got out of you? I remember. That self-same thing they are now about. What do you tell me, Kremes? Why, surely this courtesan, who is at my house, is Clinifo's mistress. So they say, and you believe it all, and they say he is desirous of a wife, in order that, when I have betrothed her, you may give him money, with which to provide gold trinkets and clothing, and other things that are requisite. That is it, no doubt. That money will be given to his mistress. Of course it is to be given. Alas! In vain, then! Unhappy man! Have I been overjoyed? Well, however, I had rather anything than be deprived of him. What answer now shall I report from you, Kremes, so that he may not proceed that I have found it out, and take it to heart? To heart, indeed, you are too indulgent to him, Menodymus. Let me go on. I have now begun. Assist me in this too-out, Kremes. Say, then, that you have seen me and have treated about the marriage. I'll say so. But then, that I will do everything, that as a son-in-law he meets my approbation, in fine, too, if you like, tell him also that she has been promised him. Well, that's what I wanted, that he may the sooner ask of you, and you may as soon as possible give him what you wish. It is my wish. Assuredly, before very long, according as I view this matter, you'll have enough of him. But, however that may be, if you are wise, you'll give to him cautiously, and a little at a time. I'll do so. Go indoors and see how much he requires. I shall be at home, if you should want me for anything. I certainly do want you, for I shall let you know whatever I do. They go into their respective houses. End of Act 4 Act 5 of He out in Timoruminus, the self-tormentor by Terence, translated by Henry Thomas Riley. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, auto-volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act the fifth, scene one. Enter Medidimus from his house, to himself. I am quite aware that I am not so overwise or so very quick-sighted, but this assistant, prompter and director of mine, Kremys, outdoes me in that. Any one of those epitaphs which are applied to a fool is suited to myself, such as dolt, post, ass, lump of lead. To him not one can apply. His stupidity surpasses them all. Enter Kremys, speaking to Sustrata within. Hold now, do, wife, leave off dinning the gods with thanksgivings, that your daughter has been discovered, unless you judge of them by your own disposition, and think that they understand nothing, unless the same thing has been told them a hundred times. But in the meantime, why does my son linger there so long with Cyrus? What persons do you say are lingering? Ha! Medidimus, you have come opportunely. Tell me, have you told Clinia what I said? Everything. What did he say? He began to rejoice, just like people do who wish to be married. Why are you laughing? The sly tricks of my servant Cyrus just came into my mind. Did they? The rogue can even mold the countenances of people. That my son is pretending that he is overjoyed? Is it that you mean? Just so. The very same thing came into my mind. A crafty knave. Still more would you think, such to be the fact, if you knew more. Do you say so? Do you give attention, then? Just stop. First I want to know this. What money you have squandered, for when you told your son that she was promised, of course drama would at once throw in a word that golden jewels, clothes, and attendants would be needed for the bride, in order that you might give the money. No. How no? No, I tell you. Nor yet your son himself? Not in the slightest, Grammys. He was only the more pressing on this one point, that the match might be concluded today. You say what's surprising? What did my servant Cyrus do? Didn't even he say anything? Nothing at all. For what reason, I don't know. For my part, I wonder at that, when you know other things so well, for this same cirrus has molded your son, too, to such perfection, that there could not be even the slightest suspicion that she is Clinia's mistress. What do you say? Not to mention, then, their kissing and embracing, that I caught nothing. When more could be done to carry on the cheat? For sure. What do you mean? Only listen. In the inner part of my house there was a certain room at the back. Into this a bed was brought, and was made up with bed-clothes. What took place after this? No sooner said than done, thither went clitipho. Alone? Alone. I'm alarmed. Vargas followed directly. Alone? Alone. I'm un-done. When they had gone into the room they shut the door. Well, did Clinia see all this going on? How shouldn't he? He was with me. Practices my son's mistress, Mandetamus, I'm un-done. Why so? I have hardly substance to suffice for ten days. What? Are you alarmed at it, because he is paying attention to his friend? His she-friend, rather. If he really is paying it. Is it a matter of doubt to you? Do you suppose that there is any person of so accommodating and tamer-spirit as to suffer his own mistress himself looking on to? Why not? And I may be imposed upon the more easily. To laugh at me? You have good reason. How angry I am now with myself. How many things gave proof whereby had I not been a stone I might have been fully sensible of this. What was it I saw, alas, wretched that I am, but assuredly they shall not escape my vengeance if I live for this instant. And you not contain yourself? And you no respect for yourself? Am I not a sufficient example to you? For very anger, Mandetamus, I am not myself. For you to talk in that manner. Is it not a shame for you to be giving advice to others, to show wisdom abroad, and yet to be able to do nothing for yourself? What shall I do? That which you said I failed to do. Make him sensible that you are his father. Make him venture to entrust everything to you, to seek and to ask of you, so that he may look for no other resources than forsake you. Nay, I had much rather he would go anywhere in the world than by his debauchery his here reduce his father to beggary, for if I go on supplying his extravagance, Mandetamus, in that case my circumstances will undoubtedly be soon reduced to the level of your rake. That evils you will bring upon yourself in this affair if you don't act with caution. You'll show yourself severe, and still pardon him at last. That too with an ill grace. Ah, you don't know how vexed I am. Just as you please. What about that which I desire, that she may be married to my son, unless there is any other step that you would prefer? On the contrary, both the son-in-law and the connection are to my taste. What portion shall I say that you have named for your daughter? Why are you silent? Portion. I say so. Alas! Grammys, don't be at all afraid to speak, if it is but a small one. The portion is no consideration at all with us. I did think that two talents were sufficient according to my means, but if you wish me to be saved, and my estate, and my son, you must say to this effect that I have settled all my property on her as a portion. What scheme are you upon? Pretend that you wander at this, and at the same time ask him the reason why I do so. Why, really? I can't conceive the reason for your doing so. Why do I do so? Just check his feelings, which are now hurried away by luxury and wantoness, and to bring him down so as not to know which way to turn himself. What is your design? Let me alone, and give me leave to have my own way in this matter. I do give you leave. Is this your desire? It is so. Then be it so. And now let your son prepare to fetch the bride. The other one shall be schooled in such language as befits children. But Cyrus, what of him? What? If I live, I will have him so handsomely dressed, so well combed out, that he shall always remember me as long as he lives, to imagine the time to be a laughing-stock and a plaything for him. So may the gods bless me. He would not have dared to do to a widow-woman the things which he has done to me. They go into their respective houses. Seen to enter Menodemus with Cletophoe and Cyrus. Really, is it really the fact, Menodemus, that my father can, in so short a space of time, have cast off all the natural affection of a parent for me? For what crime? What so great anormity have I to my misfortune committed? Young men generally do the same. I am aware that this must be much more harsh and severe to you, on whom it falls. But yet I take it no less amiss than you. How is it so I know not, nor can I account for it, except that from my heart I wish you well. Did not you say that my father was waiting here? Enter Cremus from his house. See, here he is. Menodemus goes into his house. Why are you blaming me, Cletophoe? Whatever I have done in this matter I had a view to you and your imprudence, when I saw that you were of a careless disposition, and held the pleasures of the moment of the first importance, and did not look forward to the future. I took measures that you might neither want, nor be able to waste this which I have, when, through your own conduct, it was not allowed me to give it you, to whom I ought before all, I had recourse to those who were your nearest relations. To them I have made over and entrusted everything. There you'll always find a refuge for your folly, food, clothing, and a roof under which to betake yourself. Ami! It is better than that. You being my heir, Bacchus should possess this estate of mine. Cyrus, apart. I'm ruined, irrevocably. Of what mischief have I, wretch that I am, unthinkingly been the cause? Would I were dead? Prithee, first learn what it is to live. When you know that, if life displeases you, then try the other. Master, may I be allowed? Say on. But may I safely? Say on. What injustice, or what madness, is this, that that in which I have offended, should be to his detriment? It's all over. Don't mix yourself up in it. No one accuses you, Cyrus, nor need you look out for an altar, or for an intercessor for yourself. What is your design? I am not at all angry, either with you. To Cyrus. Or with you. To Gritifo. Or is it fair that you should be so with me for what I am doing? He goes into his house. He's gone. I wished I had asked him— What, Cyrus? Where I am to get my subsistence. He has so utterly cast us adrift. You are to have it for the present as your sister's I find it. Has it then come to this past, Cyrus, that I am to be in danger, even of starving? Though we only live, there's hope. What hope? That we shall be hungry enough. Do you jest in a matter so serious, and not give me any assistance with your advice? On the contrary. I am both now thinking of that, and have been about it all the time your father was speaking just now. And so far as I can perceive— What? It will not be wanting long. He meditates. What is it then? It is this. I think that you are not their son. How's that, Cyrus? Are you quacking your senses? I'll tell you what's come into my mind. Be you the judge. While they had you alone, while they had no other source of joy, more nearly to affect them, they indulged you. They lavaged upon you. Now, a daughter has been found. A pretense has been found, in fact, on which to turn you adrift. It's very probable. Do you suppose that he is so angry on account of this fault? I do not think so. Now consider another thing. All mothers are want to be advocates for their sons when in fault, and to aid them against a father's severity. Dis not so here. You say true. What then shall I now do, Cyrus? Question them on this suspicion. Mention the matter without reserve, either. If it's not true, you'll soon bring them both to compassion, or else you'll soon find out whose son you are. You give good advice. I'll do so. He goes into the home of Kremis. Cyrus, to himself. Most fortunately did this come into my mind. For the less hope the young man entertains, the greater the difficulty with which he'll bring his father to his own terms. I'm not sure even that he may not take a wife, and then no thanks for Cyrus. But what is this? The old man's coming out of doors. I'll be off. What has so far happened, I am surprised at, that he didn't order me to be carried off from here. Now I'll away to Minadimus here. I'll secure him as my intercessor. I can put no trust in our old man. Goes into the house of Minadimus. Scene three. Enter Kremis and Sostrata from the house. Really, sir, if you don't take care, you'll be causing some mischief to your son. And indeed I do wonder at it, my husband, how anything so foolish could ever come into your head. Oh, you persist in being the woman. Did I ever wish for any one thing in all my life, Sostrata, but that you were my contradictory on that occasion? And yet if I were now to ask you what it is that I've done amiss, or why you act thus, you would not know in what point you are now so obstinately opposing me in your folly. I not know. Yes. Rather, I should have said, you do know in as much as either expression amounts to the same thing. Alas, you are unreasonable to expect me to be silent in a matter of such importance. I don't expect it. Talk on, then, I shall still do it not a bit the less. Will you do it? Certainly. Don't you see how much evil you will be causing by that course? He suspects himself to be a foundling. Do you say so? Assuredly it will be so. Admit it. Oh, now, Prithee, let that be for our enemies. Am I to admit that he is not my son, who really is? What? Are you afraid that you cannot prove that he is yours whenever you please? Because my daughter has been found. No, but for a reason why it should be much sooner believed, because he is just like you in disposition. You will easily prove that he is your child, for he is exactly like you. Why? He has not a single vice left him. But you have just the same. Then, besides, no woman could have been the mother of such a son but yourself. But he is coming out of doors, and how demure. When you understand the matter, you may form your own conclusions. Seen for. Enter, Clitifo, from the house of Kremes. If there ever was any time, mother, when I caused you pleasure, being called your son by your own desire, I beseech you to remember it, and now to take compassion on me in my distress. A thing I beg and request. Do discover to me my parents. I conjure you, my son, not to entertain that notion in your mind that you are another person's child. I am. Rich that I am. Turning to Kremes. Was it this you wanted, Prey? To Clitifo. So may you be the survivor of me and him, you are my son in his. Then henceforth, if you love me, take care that I never hear that speech from you again. But I say, if you fear me, take care how I find these propensities existing in you. What propensities? If you wish to know, I'll tell you, being a trifle, an idler, a cheat, a glutton, a debauchee, a spendthrift, believe me, and believe that you are our son. This is not the language of a parent. If you had been born from my head, Clitifo, just as they say Minerva was from Joves, none the more on that account would I suffer myself to be disgraced by your proflegacy. May the gods forbid it. I don't know as to the gods. So far as I shall be enabled, I will carefully prevent it. You are seeking that which you possess, parents, that which you are in want of, you don't seek, in what way to pay obedience to a father, and to preserve what he acquired by his industry, that you by trickery should bring before my eyes, I am ashamed to mention the unseemly word in her presence. Pointing to Sustrata. But you are not in any degree ashamed to act thus. Clitifo, aside. Alas! How thoroughly displeased I now am with myself! How much ashamed! How do I know how to make a beginning to pacify him? Scene five. Enter Menodamus from his house. To himself. Why, really, Kremys is treating his son too harshly and too unkindly. I'll come out, therefore, to make peace between them. Most opportunely, I see them both. Well, Menodamus, why don't you order my daughter to be sent for, and close with the offer as the portion that I mentioned? My husband, I entreat you not to do it. Father, I entreat you to forgive me. Forgive him, Kremys. Do let them prevail upon you. Am I knowingly to make my property a present to backchase, or not do it? Why, we would not suffer it. If you desire me to live, father, do forgive me. Do, my dear Kremys. Come, Kremys, pray, don't be so obdurate. What am I to do here? I see I'm not allowed to carry this through as I had intended. You are acting as becomes you. On this condition, then, I'll do it. If he does that which I think it right, he should do. Father, I'll do anything. Command me. You must take a wife. Father. I'll hear nothing. I'll take it upon myself. He shall do so. I don't hear anything from him as yet. Critifo, aside. I'm undone. Do you hesitate, Litifo? Nay, just as he likes. He'll do it all. This course, while you are making a beginning, is disagreeable, and while you are unacquainted with it, when you have become acquainted with it, it will become easy. I'll do it, father. My son, upon my honour, I'll give you that charming girl, who you may soon become attached to, the daughter of our neighbour, Fenakretah. What? That red-haired girl with cat's eyes, freckled face, and hooked nose? I cannot, father. Hey, D'ay, how nice it is. You had fancy had set his mind upon it. I'll name another. Why, no. Since I must marry, I myself have one that I should pretty nearly make choice of. Now, son, I commend you. The daughter of our connoody is here. I'm quite agreeable. Father, this now remains. What is it? I want you to pardon Cirrus for what he has done for my sake. Be it so. To the audience. Fare you well, and grant us your applause. End of Act Five End of The Argentimal Ruminous by Terence Translated by Henry Thomas Riley