Mercator, or The Merchant (683b-721b)

Prithee, why are you crying out?

Some woman, I know not who, is here in-doors in the house.

What? A woman?

A harlot woman.

Is it so, really?

In serious truth. You know how to act very prudently, in not remaining in the country. A fool even could have found it out that she was the mistress of your very pretty husband.

By heavens, I believe it.

Step this way with me, that you, my Juno, may see as well your rival Alcmena.

I’ troth, I certainly shall go there, as fast as I can.

Is this too little of a misfortune that Demipho’s in love, that he must be extravagant as well? If he had been inviting ten men of highest rank to dinner,

he has provided too much. But the cooks he directed in such a way just as at sea the time-keeper[*] is wont to direct the rowers. I hired a Cook myself, but I’m surprised that he hasn’t come as I directed him. But who’s this, I wonder, that’s coming out of my house? The door’s opening.

No woman ever will be, or ever has been, more wretched than myself in being married to such a husband. Alas! unhappy that I am! Just see, to what a husband have you committed yourself and the property you have! Just see, to what a person I brought ten talents for a portion; that I should see these things, that I should endure these insults.

I’ troth, I’m undone; my wife’s returned from the country already. I do believe she has seen the damsel in the house. But what she says I cannot distinctly hear from hence; I’ll go nearer to her.

Ah! woe to wretched me!

Aye, and to me as well.

I’m utterly undone!

As for me, i’ faith, to my sorrow I’m downright undone! she has seen her. May all the Gods confound you, Demipho!

I’ troth, this was it, why my husband wouldn’t go into the country.

What shall I do now, but go up and speak to her? (Goes up to her.) The husband bids health to his wife. Are the country people[*] becoming townsfolk?

They are acting more decently than those who are not become country people.

Are the people in the country at all in fault?

I’ faith, less so than the townsfolk, and much less mischief do they meet with for themselves.

But in what have the townsfolk done wrong? Tell me that.

Whose woman is that in the house?

What, have you seen her?

I have seen her.

Whose is she, do you ask?

I shall find out, in spite of you;

i’ faith, I long to know.

But you are trying me on purpose.