Reader

MYRTIUM

So, Pamphilus, you’re planning to marry the daughter of Philo, the shipowner. I’ve even heard you’re already married. Have all your sworn oaths and tears gone in a moment, have you forgotten your Myrtium, and at a time like this, when I’m eight months gone? All the good I’ve had from your love is that you’ve given me such an enormous belly, and I’ll soon have to bring up a child, and that’s a terrible nuisance for a lady of my kind. For I’m not going to expose the child, particularly if it’s a boy, but I’ll call him Pamphilus, and keep him to console me for my unhappy love, and one day he’ll tell you off for your treachery to his poor mother. I don’t think much of your bride’s looks. I saw her the other day with her mother at the Thesmophoria, though I didn’t know at the time that I’d never see Pamphilus again because of her. I think you’d better have a good look at her too, before it’s too late, and examine her face and her eyes; I wouldn’t like you to be vexed at the marked steel-grey colour of her eyes, or disappointed because they squint inwards. Better still you’ve seen your father-in-law, Philo, and know what his face is like. You won’t need to see the daughter after seeing him!

PAMPHILUS

How long shall I have to listen to your nonsense about young ladies and your stories of matches with shipowning families? Do I know any bride whether snub-nosed or pretty? Or that Philo of Alopece—I presume you mean him—so much as had a daughter of marriageable age? Anyway, he’s not even on good terms with my father. I remember he was sued by him only the other day for debt. He owed my father a talent, I believe, but refused to pay, and my father had him before the Admiralty Court, and had the greatest difficulty in squeezing it out of him, and didn’t get it all, he kept saying. Even if I had decided to marry, do you think I’d have passed over the daughter of Demeas, who was a General last year, particularly as she was a cousin on my mother’s side, and be marrying Philo’s daughter instead? Wherever did you hear this story? What empty jealous ideas have you invented for yourself, Myrtium, that you lash out so blindly?

MYRTIUMThen you’re not getting married, Pamphilus? PAMPHILUSAre you out of your mind, Myrtium, or is it a hang-over? Though I must say we remained quite sober last night. MYRTIUMIt was Doris here who gave me this nasty shock. I sent her out to buy some wool for the little stranger, and to pray to Artemis to deliver me safely, and she’d met Lesbia, she told me, and—but it’d be better for you yourself, Doris, to tell him what you heard, unless you made all this up. DORISRuin take me, mistress, if I told a single lie. When I got to the town-hall, I met Lesbia who was all smiles and told me that our lover, Pamphilus, was marrying Philo’s daughter. She said that if I didn’t believe her, I was to peep into your alley and see the garlands everywhere, the girl-pipers, the commotion, and the people singing the wedding hymn. PAMPHILUSWell, Doris, did you take a peep? DORISI certainly did, and I saw everything, just as she said.

PAMPHILUSI understand how you were misled. It wasn’t all lies that Lesbia told you, Doris. What you reported to Myrtium was true. But you were worried without reason, for the wedding wasn’t in our house, but now I recall my mother’s words, when I returned from here yesterday. “My dear Pamphilus”, she said, “Charmides, that young fellow of the same age as you, the son of neighbour Aristaenetus, is getting married at last. He’s showing some sense, but how long are you going to continue keeping a mistress ?”Listening to her on and off, I dropped off to sleep. Then I left the house early in the morning, so that I didn’t see anything of what Doris saw later on. If you don’t believe me, Doris, go out again and take a good look, not just at the lane, but at the door to see which one has the garlands. You’ll find it belongs to our neighbours’ house. MYRTIUMYou’ve saved my life, Pamphilus. I’d have hanged myself, if anything like that had happened. PAMPHILUSSuch a thing could never have happened. I hope I’ll never be so mad as to forget Myrtium, especially now that she’s going to have my child.