Menaechmi, or The Twin Brothers (882-922)

My bones ache with sitting, my eyes with watching, while waiting for the Doctor, till he returned from his business. At last the troublesome fellow has with difficulty got away from his patients.

He says that he has set a broken leg for Aesculapius[*], and an arm for Apollo. I’m now thinking whether I’m to say that I’m bringing a doctor or a carpenter[*]. But, see, here he comes.—Do get on with your ant’s pace.

What did you say was his disorder? Tell me, respected sir.

Is he harassed by sprites[*], or is he frenzied? Let me know. Is it lethargy, or is it dropsy, that possesses him?

Why, I’m bringing you for that reason, that you may tell me that, and make him convalescent.

That indeed is a very easy matter. Why, I shall heal innumerable times as many[*] in the day.

I wish him to be treated with great attention.

That he shall be healed, I promise that on my word; so with great attention will I treat him for you.

Why, see! here’s the man himself.

[*] Let’s watch what matter he’s about.

By my faith, this day has certainly fallen out perverse and adverse for me,

since the Parasite, who has filled me full of disgrace and terror, has made that all known, which I supposed I was doing secretly; my own Ulysses [*], who has brought so great evil on his king—a fellow that, by my troth, if I only live, I’ll soon finish his life[*]. But I’m a fool, who call that his, which is my own.

With my own victuals and at my own expense has he been supported; of existence will I deprive the fellow. But the Courtesan has done this in a way worthy of her, just as the harlot’s habit is: because I ask for the mantle, that it may be returned again to my wife, she declares that she has given it me. O dear! By my faith, I do live a wretched man.

Do you hear what he says ?

He declares that he is wretched.

I wish you to accost him.

Save you, Menaechmus. Prithee, why do you bare your arm? Don’t you know how much mischief you are now doing to that disease of yours?

Why don’t you go hang yourself?

What think you now?

What shouldn’t I think? This case can’t be treated with even ointment of hellebore. But what have you to say, Menaechmus?

What do you want?

Tell me this that I ask of you; do you drink white wine or dark-coloured?

What need have you to enquire?

Why don’t you go to utter perdition ?

Troth, he’s now beginning to be attacked with the fit.

Why don’t you ask whether I’m wont to eat dark bread, or purple, or yellow? Or whether I’m wont to eat birds with scales, or fish with wings?

Dear, dear!

(To the DOCTOR.) Don’t you hear how deliriously he talks? Why do you delay to give him something by way of a potion, before his raving overtakes him?

Stop a little; I’ll question him on some other matters as well.