Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: The Comedies of Terence by Terence Colman George Translator
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 2807 lines and 53256 words, and 57 pages
PAM. I! Desert her? Can I think on't? or deceive A wretched maid! who trusted to my care Her life and honor. Her whom I have held Near to my heart, and cherish'd as my wife? Or leave her modest and well nurtur'd mind Through want to be corrupted? Never, never.
PAM. D'ye think me then so vile? Or so ungrateful, so inhuman, savage, Neither long intercourse, nor love, nor shame, Can make me keep my faith?
MYSIS. I only know That she deserves you should remember her.
MYSIS. So we trust.
PAM. What make you from her?
MYSIS. Going for a midwife.
PAM. Haste then! and hark, be sure take special heed, You mention not a word about the marriage, Lest this too give her pain.
MYSIS. I understand.
ACT THE SECOND.
CHAR. How, Byrrhia? Is she to be married, say you, To Pamphilus to-day?
BYR. 'Tis even so.
CHAR. How do you know?
BYR. I had it even now From Davus at the Forum.
CHAR. Woe is me! Then I'm a wretch indeed: till now my mind Floated 'twixt hope and fear: now, hope remov'd, Stunn'd, and o'erwhelm'd, it sinks beneath its cares.
BYR. Nay, prithee master, since the thing you wish Can not be had, e'en wish for that which may!
CHAR. I wish for nothing but Philumena.
BYR. Ah, how much wiser were it, that you strove To quench this passion, than, with words like these To fan the fire, and blow it to a flame?
CHAR. How readily do men at ease prescribe To those who're sick at heart! distress'd like me, You would not talk thus.
BYR. Well, well, as you please.
CHAR. Ha! I see Pamphilus. I can resolve On any thing, e'er give up all for lost.
BYR. What now?
CHAR. I will entreat him, beg, beseech him, Tell him our course of love, and thus, perhaps, At least prevail upon him to defer His marriage some few days: meanwhile, I hope, Something may happen.
BYR. Aye, that something's nothing.
CHAR. Byrrhia, what think you? Shall I speak to him?
BYR. Why not? for though you don't obtain your suit, He will at least imagine you're prepar'd To cuckold him, in case he marries her.
CHAR. Away, you hang-dog, with your base suspicions!
PAM. Charinus, save you!
CHAR. Save you, Pamphilus! Imploring comfort, safety, help, and counsel, You see me now before you.
PAM. I do lack Myself both help and counsel--But what mean you?
CHAR. Is this your wedding-day?
PAM. Aye, so they say.
CHAR. Ah, Pamphilus, if so, this day You see the last of me.
PAM. How so?
CHAR. Ah me! I dare not speak it: prithee tell him, Byrrhia.
BYR. Aye, that I will.
PAM. What is't?
BYR. He is in love With your bride, Sir.
CHAR. Ah, no, no.
PAM. Would there had!
PAM. I will endeavor.
PAM. My heart!
CHAR. At least Defer it some few days; while I depart, That I may not behold it.
PAM. Hear, Charinus; It is, I think, scarce honesty in him To look for thanks, who means no favor. I Abhor this marriage, more than you desire it.
CHAR. You have reviv'd me.
PAM. Now if you, or he, Your Byrrhia here, can do or think of aught; Act, plot, devise, invent, strive all you can To make her yours; and I'll do all I can That she may not be mine.
CHAR. Enough.
PAM. I see Davus, and in good time: for he'll advise What's best to do.
CHAR. But you, you sorry rogue, Can give me no advice, nor tell me aught, But what it is impertinent to know. Hence, Sirrah, get you gone!
CHAR. The very thing.
PAM. The same.
PAM. Nay, rid me of my fear.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page