Scene II Enter SIMO, From His House
SIM. (to himself). I’ve not enjoyed myself better at home this year than I have to-day, nor has at any time any meal pleased me better. My wife provided a very nice breakfast for me; now she bids me go take a nap. By no means! It instantly struck me that it didn’t so happen by chance. She provided a better breakfast than is her wont; and then, the old lady wanted to draw me away to my chamber. Sleep is not good after breakfast—out upon it! I secretly stole away from the house, out of doors. My wife, I’m sure, is now quite bursting with rage at home.
TRA. (apart). A sore mischance is provided for this old fellow by the evening; for he must both dine and go to bed in-doors in sorry fashion.
SIM. (continuing). The more I reflect upon it in my mind: if any person has a dowried wife, sleep has no charms for him. I detest going to take a nap. It’s a settled matter with me to be off to the Forum from here, rather than nap it at home. And, i’ faith (to the AUDIENCE), I don’t know how your wives are in their behaviour; this wife of mine, I know right well how badly she treats me, and that she will prove more annoying to me hereafter than she has been.
TRA. (apart). If your escape, old gentleman, turns out amiss, there’ll be no reason for you to be accusing any one of the Gods; by very good right, you may justly lay the blame upon yourself. It’s time now for me to accost this old fellow. ’Tis down upon him. I’ve hit upon a plan whereby to cajole the old fellow, by means of which to drive grief away from me. I’ll accost him. (Accosting him.) May the Gods, Simo, send on you many blessings! (Takes him by the hand.)
SIM. Save you, Tranio! TRA. How fare you?
SIM. Not amiss. What are you about?
TRA. Holding by the hand a very worthy man.
SIM. You act in a friendly way, in speaking well of me.
TRA. It certainly is your due.
SIM. But, i’ faith, in you I don’t hold a good servant by the hand.
THEU. (calling from a distance, where he is not perceived by SIMO). Hark you! you whip-knave, come back to me.
TRA. (turning round). I’ll be there just now.
SIM. Well now, how soon—?
TRA. What is it? SIM. The usual goings-on.
TRA. Tell me then, these usual goings-on, what are they?
SIM. The way that you yourselves proceed. But, Tranio, to say the truth, according as men are, it so befits you to humour them; reflecting, at the same time, how short life is.
TRA. What of all this? Dear me, at last, after some difficulty,
I perceive that you are talking about these goings-on of ours.
SIM. I’ faith, you people are living a merry life, just as befits you: on wine, good cheer, nice dainty fish, you enjoy life.
TRA. Why yes, so it was in time past, indeed; but now these things have come to an end all at once. SIM. How so?
TRA. So utterly, Simo, are we all undone!
SIM. Won’t you hold your tongue? Everything has gone on prosperously with you hitherto.
TEA. I don’t deny that it has been as you say; undoubtedly, we have lived heartily, just as we pleased; but, Simo, in such a way has the breeze now forsaken our ship—
SIM. What’s the matter? In what way?
TRA. In a most shocking way.
SIM. What, wasn’t it hauled ashore in safety?
TRA. Ah me! SIM. What’s the matter?
TRA. Ah wretched me! I’m utterly undone!
SIM. How so? TRA. Because a ship has come, to smash the hull of our ship.
SIM. I would wish as you would wish, Tranio, for your own sake. But what is the matter? Do inform me.
TRA. I will inform you. My master has arrived from abroad.
SIM. In that case, the cord will be stretched for you; thence to the place where iron fetters clink; after that, straight to the cross.
TRA. Now, by your knees, I do implore you, don’t give information to my master.
SIM. Don’t you fear; he shall know nothing from me.
TRA. Blessings on you, my patron.
SIM. I don’t care for clients of this description for myself.
TRA. Now as to this about which our old gentleman has sent me.
SIM. First answer me this that I ask you. As yet, has your old gentleman discovered anything of these matters?
TRA. Nothing whatever.
SIM. Has he censured his son at all?
TRA. He is as calm as the calm weather is wont to be. Now he has requested me most earnestly to beg this of you, that leave may be given him to see over this house of yours.
SIM. It’s not for sale. TRA. I know that indeed; but the old gentleman wishes to build a woman’s apartment here in his own house, baths, too, and a piazza, and a porch.
SIM. What has he been dreaming of?
TRA. I’ll tell you. He wishes to give his son a wife as soon as he can; for that purpose he wants a new apartment for the women. But he says that some builder, I don’t know who, has been praising up to him this house of yours, as being remarkably well built; now he’s desirous to take a model from it, if you don’t make any objection—
SIM. Indeed, he is really choosing a plan for himself from a piece of poor workmanship.
TRA. It was because he heard that here the summer heat was much modified; that this house was wont to be inhabited each day all day long.
SIM. Why really, upon my faith, on the contrary, while there’s shade in every direction, in spite of it, the sun is always here from morning till night: he stands, like a dun, continually at the door; and I have no shade anywhere, unless, perhaps, there may be some in the well.
TRA. Well now, have you one from Sarsina, if you have no woman of Umbria ?
SIM. Don’t be impertinent. It is just as I tell you.
TRA. Still, he wishes to look over it.
SIM. He may look over it, if he likes. If there is anything that takes his fancy, let him build after my plan.
TRA. Am I to go and call this person hither?
SIM. Go and call him.
TRA. (to himself, as he goes to the other side of the stage to call THEUROPIDES). They say that Alexander the Great and Agathocles achieved two very great exploits; what shall be the lot of myself, a third, who, unaided, am achieving deeds imperishable? This old fellow is carrying his pack-saddle, the other one, as well. I’ve hit upon a novel trade for myself, not a bad one; whereas muleteers have mules to carry pack-saddles; I’ve got men to carry the pack-saddles. They are able to carry heavy burdens; whatever you put upon them, they carry. Now, I don’t know whether I am to address him. I’ll accost him, however. (Calling aloud.) Hark you, Theuropides!
THEU. (coming forward). Well; who’s calling me?
TRA. A servant most attached to his master. Where you sent me, I got it all agreed to.
THEU. Prithee, why did you stay there so long?
TRA. The old gentleman hadn’t leisure; I was waiting until then.
THEU. You keep up that old way of yours, of being tardy.
TRA. Hark you! if you please reflect upon this proverb: to blow and swallow at the same moment isn’t easy to be done; I couldn’t be here and there at the same time.
THEU. What now?
TRA. Come and look, and inspect it at your own pleasure.
THEU. Very well, you go before me.
TRA. Am I delaying to do so? THEU. I’ll follow after you.
TEA. (as they advance). Look, the old gentleman himself is awaiting you before the door, but he is concerned that he has sold this house.
THEU. Why so?
TRA. He begs me to persuade Philolaches to let him off.
THEU. I don’t think he will. Each man reaps on his own farm . If it had been bought dear, we shouldn’t have had permission to return it on his hands. Whatever profit there is, it’s proper to bring it home. It don’t, now-a-days, befit men to be showing compassion.
TRA. I’ faith, you are losing time while you are talking. Follow me.
THEU. Be it so. TRA. (to THEUROPIDES). I’ll give you my services. (Pointing.) There’s the old gentleman. (To SIMO.) Well now, I’ve brought you this person.
SIM. I’m glad that you’ve arrived safely from abroad, Theuropides. THEU. May the Gods bless you.
SIM. Your servant was telling me that you were desirous to look over this house.
THEU. Unless it’s inconvenient to you.
SIM. Oh no; quite convenient. Do step in-doors and look over it. THEU. (pausing). But yet—the ladies—
SIM. Take you care not to trouble yourself a straw about any lady. Walk in every direction, wherever you like, all over the house, just as though it were your own.
THEU. (apart to TRANIO). “Just as though—?”
TRA. (whispering). Oh, take care that you don’t throw it in his teeth now in his concern, that you have bought it. Don’t you see him, how sad a countenance the old gentleman has?
THEU. (apart). I see. TRA. (apart). Then don’t seem to exult, and to be overmuch delighted; in fact, don’t make mention that you’ve bought it.
THEU. (apart). I understand; and I think you’ve given good advice, and that it shows a humane disposition. (Turning to SIMO.) What now?
SIM. Won’t you go in? Look over it at your leisure, just as you like.
THEU. I consider that you are acting civilly and kindly.
SIM. Troth, I wish to do so. Should you like some one to show you over.
THEU. Away with any one to show me over. I don’t want him. SIM. Why? What’s the matter?
THEU. I’ll go wrong, rather than any one should show me over.
TRA. (pointing). Don’t you see, this vestibule before the house, and the piazza, of what a compass it is?
THEU. Troth, really handsome!
TRA. Well, look now, what pillars there are, with what strength they are built, and of what a thickness.
THEU. I don’t think that I ever saw handsomer pillars.
SIM. I’ faith, they were some time since bought by me at such a price!
TRA. (aside, whispering). Don’t you hear—“They were once”? He seems hardly able to refrain from tears.
THEU. At what price did you purchase them?
SIM. I gave three minae for the two, besides the carriage. (He retires to some distance.)
THEU. (after looking close at them, to TRANIO). Why, upon my word, they are much more unsound than I thought them at first.
TRA. Why so? THEU. Because, i’ faith, the woodworm has split them both from the bottom.
TRA. I think they were cut at an improper season; that fault damages them; but even as it is, they are quite good enough, if they are covered with pitch. But it was no foreign pulse-eating artisan did this work. Don’t you see the joints in the door? (Pointing.)
THEU. I see them. TRA. Look, how close together they are sleeping.
THEU. Sleeping? TRA. That is, how they wink, I intended to say. Are you satisfied?
THEU. The more I look at each particular, the more it pleases me.
TRA. (pointing). Don’t you see the painting, where one crow is baffling two vultures? The crow stands there; it’s pecking at them both in turn. This way, look, prithee, towards me , that you may be able to see the crow. (THEUROPIDES turns towards him.) Now do you see it?
THEU. (looking about). For my part, I really see no crow there.
TRA. But do you look in that direction, towards yourselves, since you cannot discover the crow, if perchance you may be able to espy the vultures. (THEUROPIDES turns towards SIMO.) Now do you see them?
THEU. Upon my faith, I don’t see them.
TRA. But I can see two vultures.
THEU. To make an end of it with you, I don’t see any bird at all painted here.
TRA. Well then, I give it up. I excuse you; it is through age you cannot see.
THEU. These things which I can see, really they do all please me mightily.
SIM. (coming forward). Now, at length, it’s worth your while to move further on. THEU. Troth, you give good advice.
SIM. (calling at the door). Ho there, boy! take this person round this house and the apartments. But I myself would have shown you round, if I hadn’t had business at the Forum.
THEU. Away with any one to show me over. I don’t want to be shown over. Whatever it is, I’d rather go wrong than any one should show me over.
SIM. The house I’m speaking of.
THEU. Then I’ll go in without any one to show me over.
SIM. Go, by all means.
THEU. I’ll go in-doors, then.
TRA. (holding him back). Stop, please; let me see whether the dog—THEU. Very well then, look. (TRANIO looks into the passage.)
TRA. There is one. THEU. (looking in). Where is it?
TRA. (to the dog). Be off and be hanged! ‘St, won’t you be off to utter perdition with you? What, do you still linger? ‘St, away with you from here!
SIM. (coming nearer to the door). There’s no danger. You only move on. It’s as gentle as a woman in childbed. You may boldly step in-doors wherever you like. I’m going hence to the Forum.
THEU. You’ve acted obligingly. Good speed to you! (Exit SIMO.) Tranio, come, make that dog move away from the door inside, although it isn’t to be feared.
TRA. Nay but (pointing), you look at it, how gently it lies. Unless you’d like yourself to appear troublesome and cowardly—
THEU. Very well, just as you like.
TRA. Follow me this way then.
THEU. For my part, I shall not move in any direction from your feet. (They go into the house.)
{Footnote 1: Sleep is not good)—Ver. 681. It was a custom with the Romans to take a nap at noon, after the “prandium.” The modern Italians have the same practice, and call it the “siesta.” Simo has his private reasons for thinking that this nap is not wholesome in his own case.}
{Footnote 2: Down upon him)—Ver. 698. “Hoc habet.” Literally, “he has it;” a term used by the Spectators, when a gladiator received a wound at the gladiatoral games.}
{Footnote 3: By means of which to drive grief)—Ver. 699. He plays upon the resemblance of the words “dolo” and “dolorem.”}
{Footnote 4: Wasn’t it hauled ashore)—Vet. 723. It was the custom, when ships were not in use, especially in the winter time, to draw them up on chore, by means of rollers placed beneath them.}
{Footnote 5: A woman’s apartment)—Ver. 741. “Gynaeceum.” This was a name borrowed from the Greeks, for the apartments in the house which were especially devoted to the use of the females.}
{Footnote 6: No woman of Umbria)—Ver. 756. This is a poor pun upon the different acceptations of the word “umbra,” which may signify, according to the context, “shade,” or “a woman of Umbria.” Simo means it in the former, while Tranio chooses to take it in the latter sense. Simo does not like this attempt at wit, and tells him not to be impertinent. We may here observe, that Plautus was born at Sarsina, a town of Umbria.}
{Footnote 7: Agathocles)—Ver. 761. Agathocles rose from the station of a potter to be king of Sicily.}
{Footnote 8: To blow and swallow)—Ver. 777. Or “exhale and inhale.” A proverbial expression, very similar to that in use with us, that “a person cannot blow hot and cold at the same time.”}
{Footnote 9: Reaps on his own farm)—Ver. 785. A country proverb, meaning “every one for himself.”}
{Footnote 10: Away with any one to show)—Ver. 804. He says this, not liking the mention of the word “perductor,” which, beside meaning an “attendant” or “one to escort,” signifies a “pander” or “procurer.” So in the next line, “perducto” means “to show over” or “to act the procurer.”}
{Footnote 11: Foreign pulse-eating artisan)—Ver. 817. From the use of the word “pultiphagus,” he probably alludes to Carthaginian workmen, who were very skilful at working in wood. In the Poenulus, Hanno the Carthaginian is called “patruus pultiphagonides,” “the pulse-eating kinsman.” If this is the meaning, it is pretty clear that he is not speaking in praise of the workmanship. Some, however, think that as, in early times, the lower classes at Rome lived upon “puls,” “pap” or “pottage,” the Scene being at Athens, Roman workmen are alluded to; if so, he may mean to speak in praise of the work, and to say that no bungling artists made the doors. See the Note in p. 355. The joints are said to wink, from the close conjunction of the eyelids in the act of winking.}
{Footnote 12: Where one crow)—Ver. 821. By the “crow,” he means himself; and by the “vultures,” the two old men. Simo is probably standing at some distance off; and knowing that his master’s sight is not good, he feels that he may deride him with impunity.}
{Footnote 13: Towards me)—Ver. 822. “Ad me.” Theuropides thinks he means, “in my direction;” whereas Tranio really means, “look ‘at me,’ and you will see the crow;” though he does not intend that his master shall take it in that sense.}
{Footnote 14: It’s as gentle)—Ver. 840. This, probably, is intended to refer to the statue of a dog lying down in the vestibule, and not a real one. Pictures of dogs, with “cave canem” written beneath, were sometimes painted on the wall near the door.}