Amphitryon, or Jupiter in Disguise (260-313)

Lastly, by reason of his valour, a golden goblet was presented to my master Amphitryon, from which king Pterelas[*] had been used to drink. These things I’ll thus tell my mistress. I’ll now proceed to obey my master’s order and to betake me home.

Heyday! he’s about to come this way; I’ll go meet him; and I’ll not permit this fellow at any time to-day to approach this house.

Since I have his form upon myself, I’m resolved to play the fellow off. And indeed, since I have taken upon me his figure and his station, it is right for me likewise to have actions and manners like to his. Therefore it befits me to be artful, crafty, very cunning, and by his own weapon, artfulness, to drive him from the door.

But what means this? He is looking up at the sky. I’ll watch what scheme he’s about.

Upon my faith, for sure, if there is aught besides that I believe, or know for certain, I do believe that this night the God of Night[*] has gone to sleep drunk; for neither does the Wain move itself in any direction in the sky, nor does the Moon bestir herself anywhere from where she first arose;

nor does Orion[*], or the Evening Star[*], or the Pleiades, set. In such a fashion are the stars standing stock-still, and the night is yielding not a jot to the day.

Go on, Night, as you’ve begun, and pay obedience to my father. In best style[*], the best of services are you performing for the best of beings; in giving this, you reap a fair return.

I do not think that I have ever seen a longer night than this,

except one of like fashion, which livelong night I was hanging up, having been first whipped. Even that as well, by my troth, does this one by far exceed in its length. I’ faith, I really do believe that the Sun’s asleep, and is thoroughly drenched. It’s a wonder to me if he hasn’t indulged himself a little too much at dinner.

Do you really say so, you scoundrel? Do you think that the Gods are like yourself?

I’ faith, you hang-dog, I’ll entertain you for these speeches and misdeeds of yours; only come this way, will you, and you’ll find your ruin.

Where are those wenchers, who unwillingly lie a-bed alone? A rare night this for making the best of what was a bad bargain at first[*].

My father then, according to this fellow’s words, is doing rightly and wisely, who in his amorousness, indulging his passion, is lying in the embraces of Alcmena.

I’ll go tell Alcmena, as my master ordered me. (Advancing, he discovers MERCURY.) But who is this fellow that I see before the house at this time of night? I don’t like it.

There is not in existence another such cowardly fellow as this.

Now, when I think of it, this fellow wishes to take my mantle off once more[*].

The fellow’s afraid; I’ll have some sport with him.

I’m quite undone, my teeth are chattering. For sure, on my arrival, he is about to receive me with the hospitality of his fist. He’s a merciful person, I suppose; now, because my master has obliged me to keep awake, with his fists just now he’ll be making me go to sleep. I’m most confoundedly undone. Troth now, prithee, look, how big and how strong he is.

I’ll talk at him aloud, he shall hear what I say. Therefore indeed, in a still greater degree, shall he conceive fears within himself. (In a loud voice, holding up his fists.) Come, fists, it’s a long time now since you found provision for my stomach; it seems to have taken place quite a long time ago, when yesterday you laid four men asleep, stript naked.

I’m dreadfully afraid

lest I should be changing my name here, and become a Quintus[*] instead of a Sosia. He declares that he has laid four men asleep; I fear lest I should be adding to that number.

Well, now then for it. This is the way I intend.

He is girded tight; for sure, he’s getting himself ready.

He shan’t get off without getting a thrashing.

What person, I wonder?

Beyond a doubt, whatever person comes this way, he shall eat my fists.

Get out with you, I don’t wish to eat at this time of night; I’ve lately dined. Therefore do you, if you are wise, bestow your dinner on those who are hungry.

The weight of this fist is no poor one.

I’m done for; he is poising his fists.

What if I were to touch him, stroking him down [*], so that he may go to sleep?