Phormio; or, The Scheming Parasite (219-254b)

Geta, what’s to be done now?

You will just hear some harsh language:

I shall be trussed up and trounced, if I am not somewhat mistaken. But what we were just now advising Antipho to do, the same we must do ourselves, Phaedria.

Away with your musts; rather do you command me what I am to do.

Do you remember what were your words formerly

on our entering upon this project, with the view of protecting yourselves from ill consequences—that their cause was just, clear, unanswerable, and most righteous?

I remember it.

Well then, now there’s need of that plea, or of one still better and more plausible, if such there can be.

I’ll use my best endeavors.

Do you then accost him first; I’ll be here

in re-serve,[*] by way of reinforcement, if you give ground at all.

Very well.

And is it possible that Antipho has taken a wife without my consent? and that no authority of mine—but let alone authority[*]—no displeasure of mine, at all events, has he been in dread of? To have no sense of shame! O audacious conduct! O Geta, rare adviser!

Just brought in at last.

What will they say to me, or what excuse will they find?

I wonder much.

Why, I’ve found that out already; do think of something else.

Will he be saying this to me: I did it against my will; the law compelled me? I hear you, and admit it.

Well said!

But knowingly, in silence, to give up the cause to his adversaries—did the law oblige him to do that as well?

That is a hard blow.

I’ll clear that up; let me alone for that.

It is a matter of doubt what I am to do; for beyond expectation, and quite past all belief, has this befallen me.

So enraged am I, that I can not compose my mind to think upon it. Wherefore it is the duty of all persons, when affairs are the most prosperous,[*] then in especial to reflect within themselves in what way they are to endure adversity. Returning from abroad, let him always picture to himself dangers and losses, either offenses committed by a son, or the death of his wife, or the sickness of a daughter,—

that these things are the common lot, so that no one of them may ever come as a surprise upon his feelings. Whatever falls out beyond his hopes, all that he must look upon as so much gain.

O Phaedria, it is incredible how much I surpass my master in wisdom. All my misfortunes have been already calculated upon by me, upon my master coming home. I must grind at the mill, be beaten, wear fetters,

be set to work in the fields; not one individual thing of these will happen unexpected by my mind. Whatever falls out beyond my expectations, all that I shall look upon as so much gain. But why do you hesitate to accost him, and soften him at the outset with fair words?

I see Phaedria, my brother’s son, coming toward me.

My uncle, welcome!

Greetings to you; but where is Antipho?