Mostellaria, or The Haunted House (669_670-721a)

(To THEUROPIDES.) Your son has bought the house of this next-door neighbour of yours.

In real truth?

If, indeed, you are going to pay down the money, then in real truth; if you are not going to pay it, in real truth he has not bought it.

He hasn’t bought it in a very good situation.

Why yes, in a very good one.

I’ faith, I should like to look over this house; just knock at the door, and call some one to you from within, Tranio.

Why just look now, again I don’t know what I’m to say. Once more, now, are the surges bearing me upon the self-same rock. What now? I’ faith, I can’t discover what I am now to do; I’m caught in the fact.

Just call some one out of doors;

ask him to show us round.

Hallo there, you! (Turning round) But there are ladies here; we must first see whether they are willing or unwilling.

You say what’s good and proper; just make enquiry, and ask. I’ll wait here outside until you come out.

May all the Gods and Goddesses utterly confound you, old gentleman!

in such a fashion are you thwarting my artful plans in every way. Bravo! very good! Look, Simo himself, the owner of the house, is coming out of doors. I’ll step aside here, until I have convened the senate of council in my mind. Then, when I’ve discovered what I am to do, I’ll join him. (THEUROPIDES and TRANIO stand at a distance from SIMO’s house, in opposite directions, THEUROPIDES being out of sight.)

I’ve not enjoyed myself better at home this year than I have to-day, nor has at any time any meal pleased me better. My wife provided a very nice breakfast for me; now she bids me go take a nap. By no means! It instantly struck me that it didn’t so happen by chance.

She provided a better breakfast than is her wont; and then, the old lady wanted to draw me away to my chamber. Sleep is not good[*] after breakfast—out upon it! I secretly stole away from the house, out of doors. My wife, I’m sure, is now quite bursting with rage at home.

A sore mischance is provided for this old fellow by the evening; for he must both dine and go to bed in-doors in sorry fashion.

The more I reflect upon it in my mind: if any person has a dowried wife, sleep has no charms for him.

I detest going to take a nap. It’s a settled matter with me to be off to the Forum from here, rather than nap it at home. And, i’ faith (to the AUDIENCE), I don’t know how your wives are in their behaviour; this wife of mine, I know right well how badly she treats me,

and that she will prove more annoying to me hereafter than she has been.

If your escape, old gentleman, turns out amiss, there’ll be no reason for you to be accusing any one of the Gods; by very good right, you may justly lay the blame upon yourself. It’s time now for me to accost this old fellow.

’Tis down upon him[*]. I’ve hit upon a plan whereby to cajole the old fellow, by means of which to drive grief[*] away from me. I’ll accost him. (Accosting him.) May the Gods, Simo, send on you many blessings!

Save you, Tranio!

How fare you?

Not amiss. What are you about?

Holding by the hand a very worthy man.

You act in a friendly way,

in speaking well of me.

It certainly is your due.

But, i’ faith, in you I don’t hold a good servant by the hand.

Hark you! you whip-knave, come back to me.