Miles Gloriosus, or The Braggart Captain (290c-324c)

Yes, I myself, with these eyes of mine.

Get away, it isn’t likely what you say, nor did you see her.

Do I, then, appear to you as if I were purblind?

’Twere better for you to ask the doctor about that. But, indeed, if the Gods only love you, don’t you rashly father this[*] idle story. Now are you breeding thence a fatal dilemma for your legs and head;

for, in two ways, the cause is contrived for you to be ruined, unless you put a check upon your foolish chattering.

But how, two ways?

I’ll tell you. First then, if you falsely accuse Philocomasium, by that you are undone; in the next place, if it is true, having been appointed her keeper, there you are undone.

What may happen to me, I know not; I know for certain that I did see this.

Do you persist in it, unfortunate wretch?

What would you have me say to you, but that I did see her? Moreover, she is in there, next door, at this very moment.

What! Isn’t she at home?

Go and see. Go in-doors yourself; for I don’t ask now for any confidence to be put in me.

I’m determined to do so.

I’ll wait here for you.

In this direction will I be on the watch for her,[*] how soon the heifer may betake herself from the pasture this way towards her stall.

What now shall I do? The Captain gave me to her as her keeper. Now, if I make a discovery, I’m undone; if I am silent, still I am undone, if this should be discovered. What is there more abandoned or more daring than a woman? While I was upon the tiles, this woman betook herself out of doors from her dwelling. By my troth, ’twas a brazen act she did. If, now, the Captain were to know of this,

i’ faith, I believe he would pull down the whole entire house next door, and me he would send to the gibbet.[*] Whatever comes of it, i’ faith, I’ll hold my tongue rather than come to a bad end. I cannot keep effectual guard on a woman that puts herself up for sale.

Sceledrus, Sceledrus, what one man is there on earth more impudent than yourself? Who more than yourself has been born with the Deities hostile and enraged?

What’s the matter?

Do you want those eyes of yours gouged out, with which you see what never existed?

How, what never existed?

I would not buy your life at the price of a rotten nut.

Why, what’s the matter?

What’s the matter, do you ask?

And why shouldn’t I ask?

Why don’t you beg for that tongue of yours to be cut out, that prates so at random?

Why should I beg for that?

Why, Philocomasium is there at home, she whom

you were saying that you had seen next door kissing and toying with another man.

’Tis a wonder that you are in the habit of feeding on darnel[*], with wheat at so low a price.

Why so?

Because you are so dim of sight.

You gallows-bird, ’tis you, indeed, that are blind, with a vengeance, and not dim of sight; for, sure enough, there she is at home.

How? At home?

At home, i’ faith, undoubtedly.

Be off with you; you are playing with me, Palaestrio