Bacchides, or The Twin Sisters (473b-535b)

Bacchis.

You are wrong, Lydus; I know the whole affair, just as it is. You are blaming Pistoclerus without reason, and in his innocence.

For he is carefully performing the business enjoined on him by his friend and companion, his sincere well-wisher. Neither is he himself in love, nor do you suppose him so.

Is it necessary for him carefully to perform the business enjoined upon him by his friend in this fashion—for himself, sitting down, to hold a damsel in his lap who is kissing him? Can the business thus entrusted be in no way transacted unless ever and anon

he is placing his hand upon the bosom of Bacchis, or never withdraws his lips from hers? But I’m ashamed to make mention of other things which I have seen him do; when, in my presence, I saw him take most unbecoming liberties with the person of Bacchis, and yet not be at all ashamed. What need of words is there? My pupil, your friend, his son (pointing to PHILOXENUS), is ruined.

For I say that he is ruined, whose modesty in fact is lost. What need of words is there? Had I been willing to wait only a little time, that I might have had a better opportunity of viewing him, I then should, I think, have seen more than would have been proper for me to see, and for him to do.

Friend, you have undone me. And ought I not to punish this woman with death? I should prefer that I should perish after some dreadful fashion.

Isn’t it the fact, you know not whom to deem faithful to yourself, or in whom to put your trust?

Don’t you see how much he grieves that your son, his friend, has been corrupted? and how he is afflicting himself with sorrow?

Mnesilochus, I beg this of you, that you will influence his feelings and his disposition.

Preserve for yourself a friend as well as a son for me.

I fain would do so.

Much better, too, would you leave me here together with him.

Mnesilochus has cares,

more than enough.

Rate the man soundly,[*] who disgraces me, yourself his friend, and others, by his excesses.

Upon you do I impose all this responsibility. Lydus, follow me this way.

I follow you.

Which of the two now I should think to be my greater enemy, my companion or Bacchis, is extremely doubtful. Has she chosen him in preference? Let her keep him, that’s the best. Surely, by my troth, she has done this to her own loss. For never let[*] any one entrust to me aught that is sacred,

if I don’t by an abundant example[*], and—assuredly love her. I’ll make her not to say that she has got hold of a person to make a fool of. But I’ll go home now and pilfer something from my father. Even to such straits will I force her, that beggary shall be the lot of[*]—my father. But do I really now possess my wits with a mind unimpaired,

who am in this fashion prating here of these things that are to come to pass? I’ faith, I’m of opinion that I’m in love, inasmuch as I know for sure I am. But still, than that she, from my abundance, should, by the scraping of a single feather, grow the richer, I’d rather outvie a beggar in begging.

Never, by Heaven, while I live, shall she make a laughing-stock of me. For I have made up my mind to pay down all the gold at once to my father. Upon me, therefore, needy and penniless, shall she fawn, at the time, when it shall be for her advantage not a whit the more than if she were saying her pretty things to a dead man at his tomb.

Beyond a doubt, ’tis my fixed determination to give the gold up to my father. Likewise, I’ll entreat that, for my sake, my father won’t hurt Chrysalus, nor censure him at all on my account with respect to the gold which he has deceived him about. For ’tis right that I should have a care for him, who, for my sake,

has told this falsehood. (To some ATTENDANTS) Do you follow me.

Before other matters, Bacchis, will I give place to what you enjoin me, that I find out Mnesilochus, and bring him, together with myself, to you. But at this my mind is surprised, if my messenger has reached him, what it is that delays him. I’ll go into his house here, and see if perchance he’s at home.

I’ve given up to my father all the gold. Now could I wish that she should meet me, after I am penniless, this fair one so scornful of me. Yet with what great difficulty did he grant me a pardon for Chrysalus. But I prevailed on him at last that he wouldn’t be at all angry with him.

Isn’t this my friend?

Isn’t this my foe that I see?

For sure ’tis he.

’Tis he.