MYRTIUM So, Pamphilus, you’re planning to marry the
daughter of Philo, the shipowner. I’ve even heard


 


you’re already married. Have all your sworn oaths
and tears gone in a moment, have you forgotten your
Myrtium, and at a time like this, when I’m eight
months gone? All the good I’ve had from your
love is that you’ve given me such an enormous
belly, and I’ll soon have to bring up a child, and
that’s a terrible nuisance for a lady of my kind.
For I’m not going to expose the child, particularly
if it’s a boy, but I’ll call him Pamphilus, and keep
him to console me for my unhappy love, and one
day he’ll tell you off for your treachery to his poor
mother. I don’t think much of your bride’s looks.
I saw her the other day with her mother at the
Thesmophoria, though I didn’t know at the time
that I’d never see Pamphilus again because of her.
I think you’d better have a good look at her too,
before it’s too late, and examine her face and her
eyes; I wouldn’t like you to be vexed at the marked
steel-grey colour of her eyes, or disappointed because
they squint inwards. Better still you’ve seen your
father-in-law, Philo, and know what his face is like.
You won’t need to see the daughter after seeing him! PAMPHILUS How long shall I have to listen to your nonsense
about young ladies and your stories of matches
with shipowning families? Do I know any bride
whether snub-nosed or pretty? Or that Philo of
Alopece—I presume you mean him—so much as
had a daughter of marriageable age? Anyway, he’s
not even on good terms with my father. I remember
he was sued by him only the other day for debt.
He owed my father a talent, I believe, but refused to


 


pay, and my father had him before the Admiralty
Court, and had the greatest difficulty in squeezing it
out of him, and didn’t get it all, he kept saying.
Even if I had decided to marry, do you think I’d
have passed over the daughter of Demeas, who was
a General last year, particularly as she was a cousin
on my mother’s side, and be marrying Philo’s
daughter instead? Wherever did you hear this
story? What empty jealous ideas have you
invented for yourself, Myrtium, that you lash out
so blindly?