SCENE III.

Enter Syrus.

Syrus (to Æsch. within). Say no more!

Let me alone to talk with him! I warrant

I’ll make him take the money; aye, and own

That he’s well treated too. (Coming forward.) Why how now, Sannio?

What’s the dispute I overheard just now

’Twixt you and my young master?

San. Never was

Any dispute conducted more unfairly,

Than that between us two to-day! Poor I

With being drubb’d, and he with drubbing me,

’Till we were both quite weary.

Syrus. All your fault.

San. What could I do?

Syrus. Give a young man his way.

San. What could I give him more, who gave my face?

Syrus. Nay, but d’ye know my meaning, Sannio?

To seem upon occasion to slight money,

Proves in the end, sometimes, the greatest gain.

Why prithee, blockhead, could you be afraid,

Had you abated somewhat of your right,

And humor’d the young gentleman, he would not

Have paid you back again with interest?

San. I never purchase hope with ready money.

Syrus. Away! you’ll never thrive. You do not know

How to ensnare men, Sannio.

San. Well, perhaps,

Your way were best: yet I was ne’er so crafty

But I had rather, when ’twas in my power,

Receive prompt payment.

Syrus. Pshaw! I know your spirit:

As if you valued twenty minæ now,

So you might do a kindness to my master!

—Besides, they say you’re setting out for Cyprus. (Carelessly.)

San. Ha! (Alarmed.)

Syrus. —And have bought up a large stock of goods

To carry over thither.—Hir’d a vessel.

That ’tis, I know, which keeps you in suspense:

When you return, I hope, you’ll settle this.

San. I shall not budge a foot.—Undone by Heav’n!

Urg’d by these hopes they’ve undertaken this. (Aside.)

Syrus. He fears. I hinted Cyprus. There’s the rub.

Syrus. He fears. I’ve thrown a small rub in his way. (Aside.)

San. (to himself.) Confusion! they have nick’d me to a hair!

I’ve bought up sev’ral slaves, and other wares,

For exportation; and to miss my time

At Cyprus-fair would be a heavy loss.

Then if I leave this business broken thus,

All’s over with me; and at my return

’Twill come to nothing, grown quite cold and stale.

“—What! come at last?—Why did you stay so long?

Where have you been?”—that it were better lose it,

Than wait for it so long, or sue for’t then.

Syrus (coming up to him.) Well, have you calculated what’s your due?

San. Monstrous oppression! Is this honorable,

Or just in Æschinus, to take away

My property by force?

Syrus. So, so! he comes. (Aside.)

—I have but one word more to say to you.

See how you like it.—Rather, Sannio,

Than run the risk to get or lose the whole,

E’en halve the matter: and he shall contrive

To scrape together by some means ten minæ.

San. Alas, alas! am I in danger then

Of losing ev’n my very principal?

Shame on him! he has loosen’d all my teeth:

My head is swell’d all over like a mushroom:

And will he cheat me too?—I’m going nowhere.

Syrus. Just as you please.—Have you aught else to say

Before I go?

San. Yes, one word, prithee Syrus!

However things have happen’d, rather than

I should be driven to commence a suit,

Let him return me my bare due at least;

The sum she cost me, Syrus.—I’m convinc’d

You’ve had no tokens of my friendship yet;

But you shall find I will not be ungrateful.

Syrus. I’ll do my best. But I see Ctesipho.

He is rejoic’d about his mistress.

San. Say,

Will you remember me?

Syrus. Hold, hold a little! (Syrus and Sannio retire.)