Pseudolus, or The Cheat (1184-1215)

Why should I wait?

That scarf, tell me for how much it has been lent.

What matters it?

How much is the sword hired for?

These fellows surely stand in need of hellebore [*].

How now—

Leave me alone.

What wages does that broad-brimmed hat hire to-day for its owner?

[*]What owner?

What do the shoes? ⋯

What are you dreaming about? Why, I’m the owner of all these things,[*] bought with my own savings.

Those, you mean, which the upper part of your thighs supports [*].

These old fellows have been anointed; they want themselves rubbed down [*], after the old-fashioned custom.

I’ faith, prithee, answer me this truly and seriously, which I ask of you: What are you to earn? For how trifling a sum has Pseudolus hired you?

Who is this Pseudolus?

Your tutor, who has instructed you in this knavery, to take away the woman hence from me by stratagem.

What Pseudolus, and what stratagem are you talking to me about? A person that I know of no colour, black or white.

Will you not be off from here? There’s no profit here for swindlers to-day. Therefore you may tell Pseudolus that another person has carried off the prize-the first Harpax that came.

On my word, I really am that Harpax.

Aye, on my word, you want to be.

This is nothing more nor less than a downright impostor.

I have given yourself the money, and a while ago, immediately on my arrival, the token to your servant; a letter sealed with the likeness of my master, here before the door.

You gave a letter to my servant? What servant?

To Syrus.

The wicked rogue has assurance enough [*]. He hasn’t contrived his knavish scheme amiss.

By my faith, that whipping-post of a fellow, Pseudolus, how cleverly he has managed his plans; just as much money as the Captain owed, he has given this man, and has dressed out the fellow that he might take away the woman ⋯(To HARPAX.) But the real Harpax himself brought that letter hither to me.

My name is Harpax; I am the servant of the Macedonian Captain. I’m doing nothing roguishly or cheatingly, nor do I know or understand this Pseudolus, what mortal being he is.

Unless it’s something wonderful, procurer, you’ve clearly lost the woman.

Assuredly, by my troth, I’m in dread of that more and more, when I come to hear his words.

I’ faith, that Syrus, too, has already set my heart a-freezing, that received the token from him.[*]