Phormio; or, The Scheming Parasite (162-198f)

Other men feel uneasiness because they can not gain what they love; you complain because you have too much. You are surfeited with love, Antipho. Why, really, upon my faith, this situation of yours is surely one to be coveted and desired.

So may the Gods kindly bless me, could I be at liberty to be so long in possession of the object of my love, I could contentedly die. Do you, then, form a judgment as to the rest, what I am now suffering from this privation, and what pleasure you enjoy from the possession of your desires; not to mention how, without any expense, you have obtained a well-born and genteel woman, and have got a wife of unblemished reputation:

happy you, were not this one thing wanting, a mind capable of bearing all this with moderation. If you had to deal with that Procurer with whom I have to deal, then you would soon be sensible of it. We are mostly all of us inclined by nature to be dissatisfied with our lot.

Still, on the other hand, Phaedria, you now seem to me the fortunate man, who still have the liberty, without restraint, of resolving on what pleases you best:

whether to keep, to love on, or to give her up. I, unfortunately, have got my-self into that position, that I have neither right[*] to give her up, nor liberty to retain her. But how’s this? Is it our Geta I see running this way? ’Tis he himself. Alas! I’m dreadfully afraid what news it is he’s now bringing me.

Geta, you are undone, unless you instantly find out some expedient;

so suddenly do such mighty evils now threaten me thus unprepared, which I neither know how to shun, nor how to extricate myself therefrom; for this daring step of:ours can not now any longer be kept a secret. If such a result is not adroitly guarded against, these matters will cause the ruin of myself, or of my master.

Why, I wonder, is he coming in such fright?:

Besides, I’ve but a moment left for this matter—my master’s close at hand.

What mischief is this?

When he comes to hear of it, what remedy shall I discover for his anger Am I to speak? I shall irritate him: be silent? I shall provoke him: excuse myself? I should be washing a brickbat.[*] Alas! unfortunate me! While I am trembling for myself, this Antipho distracts my mind. I am concerned for him; I’m in dread for him: ’tis he that now keeps me here; for had it not been for him, I should have made due provision for my safety, and have taken vengeance on the old man for his crabbedness;

I should have scraped up something, and straightway taken to my heels away from here.

I wonder What running away or theft it is that he’s planning.

But where shall I find Antipho, or which way go look for him?

He’s mentioning your name.

I know not what great misfortune I expect to hear from this messenger.

Why, are you in your senses?

I’ll make my way homeward; he’s generally there.

Let’s call the fellow back.

Stop, this instant.

Heyday—with authority enough, whoever you are.

Geta!

The very person I wanted to find.

Pray, tell me what news you bring, and dispatch it in one word, if you can.

I’ll do so.

Out with it.

Just now, at the harbor—

What, my father?—

You’ve hit it.

Ruined outright!