Bacchides, or The Twin Sisters (1066-1100)

Well, give it me, if it must be so.

Take care of it. I’ll be back here just now.

I’ve taken care—that you shall be a most wretched old fellow; this is bringing an undertaking to a fair ending; even as it has proved my lot to go rejoicing, laden with the spoil.

With safety to myself, and the city taken by stratagem, I now bring home my whole army unhurt. But, Spectators, don’t you now be surprised that I don’t go in triumph; ’tis such a common thing, I don’t care for it. Still however, the soldiers shall be received with the usual honeyed wine.

Now I’ll carry off all this booty at once to the Quaestor[*].

The more I revolve it in my breast, what disturbances my son has raised, into what a course of life, and into what habits he unwittingly has headlong plunged himself, the greater is my concern, and the more do I dread lest he may be ruined or corrupted. I know it; I once was of the same age, and I did all these things; but in a quiet way.

I was gay, I had my mistress, I drank, I feasted, I made presents, but still it was seldom I did so. The methods, too, please me not which I see parents in general employ towards their sons. I have determined to give some latitude to my son, that he may have some scope for his inclinations. I think that’s right; but still, I don’t wish him to give way too much to sloth and wantonness. Now I’m going to Mnesilochus,

to see whether, as I requested, by his endeavours he has turned him for me to virtue and to sobriety; as, indeed, I am sure he has done if he has met him, of such a disposition is he by nature.

Whoever there are in any place whatsoever, whoever have been, and whoever shall be, in time to come, fools, blockheads, idiots, dolts, sots, oafs, lubbers[*], I singly by far exceed them all in folly and absurd ways.

I’m undone. I’m ashamed of myself; that I at this time of life should disgracefully have been twice made a fool of! The more I think of this confusion which my son has made, the more am I incensed. I’m ruined, and I’m utterly destroyed; I’m distracted in every possible way. All plagues harass me, by all modes of death do I perish. This day has Chrysalus rent me in pieces; Chrysalus has plundered wretched me;

he, the villain, by his clever tricks, has shaved, to the very quick, simple me, just as he has pleased. For the Captain says that she is a Courtezan, whom that fellow said was his wife; and he has informed me of everything, as each particular happened; how that she had been hired by him for this year; how that that much gold was left to be repaid[*], which I, most simple man, had promised him. ’Tis this, this, I say, through which my breast boils with indignation[*]; ’tis this, in fine, by which I am distracted;

that I, at my time of life, should be made a fool of, aye, by Heaven, so made a very sport of, and with my hoary head and white beard, that wretched I should be bamboozled out of my gold. Undone am I, inasmuch as this slave of mine has dared in this way to set not the value of a nutshell upon me. And I—if any other way I had lost a greater sum—I should have taken it less amiss, and have deemed it less of a loss to me.