Eunuchus; or, The Eunuch (190-223b)

For the next two days then, Thais, adieu.

And the same to you, my Phaedria; do you desire aught else?

What should I desire? That, present with the Captain, you may be as if absent; that night and day you may love me; may feel my absence; may dream of me; may be impatient for me; may think about me;

may hope for me; may centre your delight in me; may be all in all with me; in fine, if you will, be my very life, as I am yours.

Ah wretched me![*] perhaps now he puts but little faith in me, and forms his estimate of me from the dispositions of other women.[*] By my troth, I, who know my own self, am very sure of this,

that I have not feigned any thing that’s false, and that no person is dearer to my heart than this same Phaedria; and whatever in the present case I have done, for this girl’s sake have I done it; for I trust that now I have pretty nearly discovered her brother, a young man of very good family;

and he has appointed this day to come to me at my house. I’ll go hence in-doors, and wait until he comes.

Mind that those people are taken there, as I ordered.

I’ll do so.

And carefully.

It shall be done.

And with all speed.

It shall be done.

Have you had sufficient instructions?

Dear me! to ask the question, as though it were a matter of difficulty.

I wish that you were able, Phaedria, to find any thing as easily as this present will be lost.

Together with it, I myself am lost, which concerns me more nearly. Don’t bear this with such a feeling of vexation.

By no means; on the contrary, I’ll see it done. But do you order any thing else?

Set off my present with words, as far as you can; and so far as you are able, do drive away that rival of mine from her.

Pshaw! I should have kept that in mind, even if you hadn’t reminded me.

I shall go into the country and remain there.

I agree with you.

But hark you!

What is it you want?

Are you of opinion that I can muster resolution and hold out so as not to come back within the time?

What, you? Upon my faith, I don’t think so; for either you’ll be returning at once, or by-and-by, at night, want of sleep will be driving you hither.

I’ll do some laborious work, that I may be continually fatigued, so as to sleep in spite of myself.

When wearied, you will be keeping awake; by this you will be making it worse.

Oh, you talk to no purpose, Parmeno: this softness of spirit, upon my faith, must be got rid of; I indulge myself too much. Could I not do without her, pray, if there were the necessity, even for a whole three days?

Whew! an entire three days! Take care what you are about.