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[Changes:
_Harper_ [end of speech, from line --But here comes Syrus ...]
_Colman 1768_ --But here comes Syrus.--I shall know from him What is become of Ctesipho.--And yet This rascal's of the gang; and if he once Perceives that I'm enquiring after him, He'll never tell, a villain!--I'll take care To cover my design.]
SCENE IV.
_Enter SYRUS at another part of the stage._
SYRUS (_to himself_). We've just Disclos'd the whole of this affair to Micio, Exactly as it happen'd. I ne'er saw The good old gentleman more pleas'd.
DEM. Oh Heav'n, The folly of the man! (_Listening._)
SYRUS (_to himself_). He prais'd his son; Me, who concerted the whole scheme, he thank'd.
DEM. I burst with rage. (_Listening._)
SYRUS (_to himself_). He told the money down Immediately, and threw us in beside, To make an entertainment, a half-mina: Which I've laid out according to my liking.
DEM. So! if you'd have your business well ta'en care of, Commit it to this fellow!
SYRUS (_overhearing_). Who's there? Demea!
I did not see you, Sir. How goes it?
DEM. How?
I can't sufficiently admire your conduct.
SYRUS (_negligently_). Silly enough, to say the truth, and idle.
(_To servants within_). Cleanse you the rest of those fish, Dromo: let That large eel play a little in the water.
When I return it shall be bon'd; till then It must not be.
DEM. Are crimes like these----
SYRUS (_to DEMEA_). Indeed I like them not, and oft cry shame upon them.
--(_To servants within._) See that those salt fish are well soak'd, Stephanio.
DEM. G.o.ds! is this done on purpose? Does he think 'Tis laudable to spoil his son? Alas!
I think I see the day when aeschinus Shall fly for want, and list himself a soldier.
SYRUS. O Demea! that is to be wise: to see, Not that alone which lies before your feet, But ev'n to pry into futurity.
DEM. What! is the Music-Girl at your house?
SYRUS. Aye, Madam's within.
DEM. What! and is aeschinus To keep her at home with him?
SYRUS. I believe so; Such is their madness.
DEM. Is it possible?
SYRUS. A fond and foolish father!
DEM. I'm asham'd To own my brother; I'm griev'd for him.
SYRUS. Ah!
There is a deal of diff'rence, Demea, --Nor is't because you're present that I say this---- There is a mighty difference between you!
You are, from top to toe, all over wisdom: He a mere dotard.--Would you e'er permit Your boy to do such things?
DEM. Permit him? I?
Or should I not much rather smell him out Six months before he did but dream of it?
SYRUS. Pshaw! do you boast your vigilance to me?
DEM. Heav'n keep him ever as he is at present!
SYRUS. As fathers form their children, so they prove.
DEM. But now we're speaking of him, have you seen The lad to-day? (_With an affected carelessness._)
SYRUS. Your son d'ye mean?--I'll drive him Into the country. (_Aside._)--He is hard at work Upon your grounds by this time. (_To DEMEA._)
DEM. Are you sure on't?
SYRUS. Sure? I set out with him myself.
DEM. Good! good!
I was afraid he loiter'd here. (_Aside._)
SYRUS. And much Enrag'd, I promise you.
DEM. On what account?
SYRUS. A quarrel with his brother at the Forum, About the Music-Girl.
DEM. Indeed?
SYRUS. Aye, faith: He did not mince the matter: he spoke out; For as the cash was telling down, in pops, All unexpected, Master Ctesipho: Cries out--"Oh aeschinus, are these your courses?
Do you commit these crimes? and do you bring Such a disgrace upon our family?"
DEM. Oh, oh, I weep for joy.
SYRUS. ----"You squander not The money only, but your life, your honor."
DEM. Heav'n bless him; he is like his ancestors. (_Weeping._)
SYRUS. Father's own son, I warrant him.