Adelphi; or, The Brothers (780-886)

DROMO

Halloo, Syrus! Ctesipho desires you'll come back.

SYRUS

Get you gone. Pushes him back into the house.

DEMEA

What is it he says about Ctesipho?

SYRUS

Nothing.

DEMEA

How now, you hang-dog, is Ctesipho in the house?

SYRUS

He is not.

DEMEA

Then why does he mention him?

SYRUS

It's another person; a little diminutive Parasite. Don't you know him?

DEMEA

I will know him before long. Going to the door.

SYRUS

stopping him. What are you about? Whither are you going?

DEMEA

struggling. Let me alone.

SYRUS

holding him. Don't, I tell you.

DEMEA

Won't you keep your hands off, whip-scoundrel? Or would you like me to knock your brains out this instant ? Rushes into the house.

SYRUS

He's gone! no very pleasant boon-companion, upon my faith, particularly to Ctesipho. What am I to do now ? Why, even get into some corner till this tempest is lulled, and sleep off this drop of wine. That's my plan. Goes into the house, staggering.

MICIO

to SOSTRATA, within. Every thing's ready with us, as I told you, Sostrata, when you like.—Who, I wonder, is making my door fly open with such fury ? Enter DEMEA in haste, from the house of MICIO.

DEMEA

Alas! what shall I do? How behave? In what terms exclaim, or how make my complaint? O heavens! O earth! O seas of Neptune !

MICIO

apart. Here's for you! he has discovered all about the affair; and of course is now raving about it; a quarrel is the consequence; I must assist him,

[*] however.

DEMEA

See, here comes the common corrupter of my children.

MICIO

Pray moderate your passion, and recover yourself.

DEMEA

I have moderated it; I am myself; I forbear all reproaches; let us come to the point: was this agreed upon between us,—proposed by yourself, in fact,—that you were not to concern yourself about my son, nor I about yours? Answer me.

MICIO

It is the fact,—I don't deny it.

DEMEA

Why is he now carousing at your house? Why are you harboring my son ? Why do you purchase a mistress for him, Micio ? Is it at all fair, that I should have any less justice from you, than you from me? Since I do not concern myself about your son, don't you concern yourself about mine.

MICIO

You don't reason fairly.

DEMEA

No ?

MICIO

For surely it is a maxim of old, that among themselves all things are common to friends.

DEMEA

Smartly said; you've got that speech up for the occasion.

MICIO

Listen to a few words, unless it is disagreeable, Demea. In the first place, if the extravagance your sons are guilty of distresses you, pray do reason with yourself. You formerly brought up the two suitably to your circumstances, thinking that your own property would have to suffice for them both; and, of course, you then thought that I should marry. Adhere to that same old rule of yours,—save, scrape together, and be thrifty for them; take care to leave them as much as possible, and take that credit to yourself: my fortune, which has come to them beyond their expectation, allow them to enjoy; of your capital there will be no diminution; what comes from this quarter, set it all down as so much gain. If you think proper impartially to consider these matters in your mind, Demea, you will save me and yourself, and them, considerable uneasiness.

DEMEA

I don't speak about the expense; their morals—

MICIO

Hold; I understand you; that point I was coming to.

[*] There are in men, Demea, many signs from which a conjecture is easily formed; so that when two persons do the same thing, you may often say, this one may be allowed to do it with impunity, the other may not; not that the thing itself is different, but that he is who does it. I see signs in them, so as to feel confident that they will turn out as we wish. I see that they have good sense and understanding, that they have modesty upon occasion, and are affectionate to each other; you may infer that their bent and disposition is of a pliant nature; at any time you like you may reclaim them. But still, you may be apprehensive that they will be somewhat too apt to neglect their interests. O my dear Demea, in all other things we grow wiser with age; this sole vice does old age bring upon men: we are all more solicitous about our own interests than we need be; and in this respect age will make them sharp enough.

DEMEA

Only take care, Micio, that these fine reasonings of yours, and this easy disposition of yours, do not ruin us in the end.

MICIO

Say no more; there's no danger of that. Now think no further of these matters. Put yourself to-day into my hands; smooth your brow.

DEMEA

Why, as the occasion requires it, I must do so; but to-morrow I shall be off with my son into the country at day-break.

MICIO

Aye, to-night, for my share; only keep yourself in good-humor for the day.

DEMEA

I'll carry off that Music-girl along with me as well.

MICIO

You will gain your point; by that means you will keep your son fast there; only take care to secure her.

DEMEA

I'll see to that; and what with cooking and grinding, I'll take care she shall be well covered with ashes, smoke, and meal; besides all this, at the very mid-day

[*] I'll set her gathering stubble; I'll make her as burned and as black as a coal.

MICIO

You quite delight me; now you seem to me to be wise; and for my part I would then compel my son to go to bed with her, even though he should be unwilling.

DEMEA

Do you banter me? Happy man, to have such a temper! I feel—

MICIO

Ah ! at it again!

DEMEA

I'll have done then at once.

MICIO

Go in-doors then, and let's devote this day to the object

[*] to which it belongs. Goes into the house.

DEMEA

Never was there any person of ever such well-trained habits of life, but that experience, age, and custom are always bringing him something new, or suggesting something; so much so, that what you believe you know you don't know, and what you have fancied of first importance to you, on making trial you reject; and this is my case at present: for the rigid life I have hitherto led, my race nearly run, I now renounce. Why so ?—I have found, by experience, that there is nothing better for a man than an easy temper and complacency. That this is the truth, it is easy for any one to understand on comparing me with my brother. He has always spent his life in ease and gayety; mild, gentle, offensive to no one, having a smile for all, he has lived for himself, and has spent his money for himself; all men speak well of him, all love him. I, again, a rustic, a rigid, cross, self-denying, morose and thrifty person, married a wife; what misery I entailed in consequence! Sons were born—a fresh care. And just look, while I have been studying to do as much as possible for them, I have worn out my life and years in saving; now, in the decline of my days, the return I get from them for my pains is their dislike. He, on the other hand, with out any trouble on his part, enjoys a father's comforts; they love him; me they shun; him they trust with all their secrets, are fond of him, are always with him. I am forsaken; they wish him to live; but my death, forsooth, they are longing for. Thus, after bringing them up with all possible pains, at a trifling cost he has made them his own; thus I bear all the misery, he enjoys the pleasure. Well, then, henceforward let us try, on the other hand, whether I can't speak kindly and act complaisantly, as he challenges me to it: I also want myself to be loved and highly valued by my friends. If that is to be effected by giving and indulging, I will not be behind him. If our means fail, that least concerns me, as I am the eldest.

[*]

SYRUS

Hark you, Demea, your brother begs you will not go out of the way.

DEMEA

Who is it?—O Syrus, my friend,

[*] save you! how are you? How goes it with you?

SYRUS

Very well.

DEMEA

Very good. Aside. I have now for the first time used these three expressions contrary to my nature,—"O Syrus, my friend, how are you ?—how goes it with you?" To SYRUS. You show yourself far from an unworthy servant, and I shall gladly do you a service.

SYRUS

I thank you.

DEMEA

Yes, Syrus, it is the truth; and you shall be convinced of it by experience before long.