Scene III.

Enter Chærea; Parmeno behind.

Chær. 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.

Chær. 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, Chærea? Whence come you?

Chær. 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?

Chær. I am in love.

Par. Oh brave!

Chær. Now, Parmeno, Now you may show what kind of man you are. You know you've often told me; "Chærea, 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!

Chær. 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?

Chær. A miracle.

Par. Oh, to be sure!

Chær. True, natural red and white; Her body firm, and full of precious stuff!

Par. Her age?

Chær. About sixteen.

Par. The very prime!

Chær. 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?

Chær. I don't know.

Par. Whence comes she?

Chær. I can't tell.

Par. Where does she live?

Chær. I can't tell neither.

Par. Where was it you saw her?

Chær. Here in the street.

Par. And how was it you lost her?

Chær. 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?

Chær. Confounded luck.

Par. How so?

Chær. How so! d'ye know one Archidemides, My father's kinsman, and about his age?

Par. Full well.

Chær. As I was in pursuit of her He met me.

Par. Rather inconveniently.

Chær. Oh most unhappily! for lighter ills May pass for inconvenient, Parmeno. Nay, I could swear, with a safe conscience too, For six, nay seven months, I had not seen him, Till now, when least I wish'd and most would shun it. Is not this monstrous? Eh!

Par. Oh! very monstrous.

Chær. Soon as from far he saw me, instantly, Bent, trembling, drop-jaw'd, gasping, out of breath, He hobbled up to me. - "Holo! ho! Chærea!" - I stopp'd. - "D'ye know what I want with you?" - "What?" - "I have a cause to-morrow." - "Well! what then?" - - "Fail not to tell your father, he remember To go up with me, as an advocate." - His prating took some time. "Aught else?" said I. "Nothing," said he:- Away flew I, and saw The girl that instant turn into this street.

Par. Sure he must mean the virgin, just now brought To Thais for a present.

Chær. When I reach'd This place, the girl was vanish'd.

Par. Had your lady Any attendants?

Chær. Yes; a parasite, With a maid-servant.

Par. 'Tis the very same; Away! have done! all's over.

Chær. What d'ye mean?

Par. The girl I mean.

Chær. D'ye know then who she is? Tell me! - or have you seen her?

Par. Yes, I've seen her; I know her; and can tell you where she is.

Chær. How! my dear Parmeno, d'ye know her?

Par. Yes.

Chær. And where she is, d'ye know?

Par. Yes, - there she is; (Pointing.) Carried to Madam Thais for a present.

Chær. What monarch could bestow a gift so precious?

Par. The mighty Captain Thraso, Phædria's rival.

Chær. Alas, poor brother!

Par. Aye, and if you knew The gift he sends to be compar'd with this, You'd cry alas, indeed!

Chær. What is his gift?

Par. An Eunuch.

Chær. What! that old and ugly slave That he bought yesterday?

Par. The very same.

Chær. Why, surely, he'll be trundled out o' doors He and his gift together - But till now I never knew this Thais was our neighbour.

Par. She came but lately.

Chær. Ev'ry way unlucky: Ne'er to have seen her neither:- Prithee, tell me, Is she so handsome, as she's said to be?

Par. Yes, faith.

Chær. But nothing to compare to mine.

Par. Oh, quite another thing.

Chær. But Parmeno! Contrive that I may have her.

Par. Well, I will. Depend on my assistance:- have you any Further commands? (As if going.)

Chær. Where are you going?

Par. Home; To bring according to your brother's order, The slaves to Thais.

Chær. Oh, that happy Eunuch! To be convey'd into that house!

Par. Why so?

Chær. Why so? why, he shall have that charming girl His fellow-servant, see her all day long, Converse with her, dwell under the same roof, And sometimes eat, and sometimes sleep by her.

Par. And what if you should be so happy?

Chær. How? Tell me, dear Parmeno!

Par. Assume his dress.

Chær. His dress! what then?

Par. I'll carry you for him.

Chær. I hear you.

Par. I will say that you are he.

Chær. I understand you.

Par. So shall you enjoy Those blessings which but now you envied him: Eat with her, be with her, touch, toy with her, And sleep by her: since none of Thais' maids Know you, or dream of what you are. Besides, Your figure, and your age are such, that you May well pass for an Eunuch.

Chær. Oh, well said! I ne'er heard better counsel. Come, let's in? Dress me, and carry me! Away, make haste!

Par. What are you at? I did but jest.

Chær. You trifle.

Par. I'm ruin'd: fool, what have I done? Nay, whither D'ye push me thus? You'll throw me down. Nay, stay!

Chær. Away.

Par. Nay, prithee!

Chær. I'm resolv'd.

Par. Consider; You carry this too far.

Chær. No, not at all. Give way!

Par. And Parmeno must pay for all. Ah, we do wrong!

Chær. Is it then wrong for me To be convey'd into a house of harlots, And turn those very arts on them, with which They hamper us, and turn our youth to scorn? Can it be wrong for me too, in my turn, To deceive them, by whom we're all deceiv'd? No, rather let it be! 'tis just to play This trick upon them: which, if gray-beards know, They'll blame indeed, but all will think well done.

Par. Well, if you must, you must; but do not then, After all's over, throw the blame on me.

Chær. No, no!

Par. But do you order me?

Chær. I do: Order, command, compel you; nor will e'er Deny, or disavow my putting-on.

Par. Come on then: follow me!

Chær. Heav'n grant success!