Act III

Enter Congrio and his associates tumbling out of Euclio's House, slamming door behind them.

Cong. (in burlesque panic) Hi-i-i! Citizens, natives, inhabitants,neighbours, foreigners, ever one --  give me room to run! Open up! Clear the street! (stopping at some distance from the house) This is the first time I ever came to cook for Bacchantes at a Bacchante den. Oh dear, what an awful clubbing did I and my disciples did get! I'm one big ache! I'm dead and gone! The way the old codger took me for a gymnasium! (euclio's door opens and he appears, cudgel in hand) Oh - ow-ow! Good lord be merciful! I'm done for! He's opening the den: he's at the door: he's after me! I know what I'll do: (retires) he's taught me my lesson, my master has. I never in all my life saw a place where they were freer-handed with their wood: (rubbing his shoulders) why, when he drove the lot of us out he let us have big sticks of it, all we could stagger under.

Scene 2

Eucl. (going into street) Come back. Where are you running to know? Stop him, stop him?

Cong. What are you yelling for, stupid?

Eucl. Because I am going to report your name to the police this instant.

Cong. Why?

Eucl. Well, you carry a knife.

Cong. And so a cook should.

Eucl. And how about your threatening me?

Cong. It's a pity I didn't jab it through you, I'm thinking.

Eucl. There isn't a more abandoned villain than you on the face of the earth, or one I'd be gladder to go out of my way to punish more, either.

Cong. Good lord! That's evident enough, even if you didn't say so: the facts speak for themselves. I've been clubbed till I'm looser than any fancy dancer. Now what did you mean by laying your hands on me, you beggar?

Eucl. What's that? You dare ask me? Didn't I do my duty by you --  is that it? (lifts cudgel)

Cong. (backing away) All right: but by gad. you'll pay heavy for it, or I'm a numskull.

Eucl. Hm! I don't know anything about the future of your skull, but (chuckling and tapping his cudgel) it must be numb now. (savagely) See here, what the devil were you doing in my house without my orders while I was gone? That's what I want to know.

Cong. Well then, shut up. We came to cook for the wedding, that's all.

Eucl. And how does it concern you, curse you, whether I eat my food cooked or take it raw --  unless you are my guardian?

Cong. Are you going to let us cook dinner here or not? That's what I want to know.

Eucl. Yes, and I want to know whether my things at home will be safe?

Cong. All I hope is I get safe away with my own things that I brought there. That'll do for me: don't worry about my hankering for anything you own.

Eucl. (incredulous) I know. You needn't go on. I quite understand.

Cong. Why won't you let us cook dinner here now? what have we done? What have we said that you didn't like?

Eucl. A pretty question, you villainous rascal, with your making a public highway of every nook and cranny in my whole house! If you had stayed by the oven where your business lay, you wouldn't be carrying that cloven pate: it serves you right. (with forced composure) Now further, just to acquaint you with my sentiments in this matter, --  you come any nearer this door without my permission, and I will make you the most forlorn creature in God's world. Now you know my sentiments. (exit into house)

Cong. (calling after him) Where are you off to? Come back! So help me holy Mother of Thieves, but I'll soon make it warm for you, the way I'll rip up your reputation in front of the house here, if you don't have my dishes brought back! (as Euclio closes the door) Now what? Oh, hell! It certainly was an unlucky day when I came here! Two shillings for the job, and now it'll take more than that to pay the doctor's bill.

Scene 3

Re-enter Euclio from house with object under his cloak

Eucl (aside) By heaven, wherever I go this goes (peering under cloak) too: I won't leave it there to run such risks, never. (to Congrio and others) Very well, come now, in with you,cooks, music girls,every one! (to Congrio) Go on, take your understrappers inside if you like, the whole hireling herd of 'em. Cook away, work away, scurry around to your hearts' content now.

Cong. A nice time for it, after you've clubbed my head till it's all cracks!

Eucl. In with you. You were engaged to get up a dinner here , not a declamation.

Cong. I say,old boy, I'll come to you with my bill for that basting, by the Lord I will. I was hired a while ago to be a cook, not to be thumped.

Eucl. Well, go to law about it. Don't bother me. Away with you: get dinner, or else get to the devil out of here.

Cong. You just get to -- (mildly,as he pushes in past him) one side, then.

(exeunt Congrio and his associates into house)

Scene 4

Eucl. (looking after them) He's disappeared. My lord, my lord! It's an awful chance a poor man takes when he begins to have dealings or business with a wealthy man. Here's Megadorus now, trying to catch me-oh, dear, dear!- in all sorts of ways. Sending cooks over here and pretending it's because of regard for me! Sent 'em to steal this (looking under cloak) from a poor old man --  that's what his sending 'em was because of! And then of course that dunghill cook of mine in there, that used to belong to the old woman, had to come within an inch of ruining me, beginning to scratch and claw around where this(looking under cloak) was buried. Enough said. It just got me worked up that I took a club and annihilated that cook, the thief, the redhanded thief! By heaven, I do believe the cooks offered that cock a reward to show them where this (looking under cloak) was. I took the handle(looking under cloak) out of their hands! (looking down street) Ah, but there is son-in-law Megadorus swaggering back from the forum. I suppose it would hardly do for me to pass him without stopping for a word or two, now.

Scene 5

Enter Megadorus

Mega. (not seeing Euclio) Well, I've told a number of friends of my intentions regarding this match. They were full of praise for Euclio's daughter. Say it's the sensible thing to do, a fine idea. Yes,for my part I'm convinced that if the rest of our well-to-do citizens would follow my example and marry poor men's daughters and let the dowries go, there would be a great deal more unity in our city, and people would be less bitter against us men of means than they are, and our wives would stand in greater awe of marital authority than they do, and the cost of living would be lower for us than it is. It's just the thing for the vast majority of the people; the fight comes with the handful of greedy fellows so stingy and grasping that neither law nor cobbler can take their measure. And now supposing some one should ask: " Who are the rich girls with dowries going to marry, if you make this rule for the poor ones?" Why,anyone they please, let 'em marry, provided their dowry doesn't go along with 'em. In that case, instead of bringing their husbands money, they'd bring them better behaved wives than they do at present. Those mules of theirs that cost more than horses do now - they'd be cheaper than Gallic geldings by the time I got through.

Eucl. (aside) God bless my soul, how I do love to hear him talk! Those thoughts of his about economizing --  beautiful, beautiful!

Mega. Then you wouldn't hear them saying:" Well, sir, you never had anything like the money I brought you, and you know it. Fine clothes and jewellery, indeed! And maids and mules and coachmen and footman and pages and private carriages -- well, if I haven't a right to them!"

Eucl. (aside) Ah, he knows 'em, knows 'em through and through, these society dames! Oh, if he could only be appointed supervisor of public morals -- the women's!

Mega. Wherever you go nowadays you see more wagons in front of a city mansion than you can find around a farmyard. That's a perfectly glorious sight, though, compared with the time the tradesmen come for their money. The cleanser, the ladies' tailor, the jeweller, the woollen worker --  they're all hanging round. And there are the dealers in flounces and underclothes and bridal veils, in violet dyes and yellow dyes, or muffs, or balsam scented foot-gear; and then the lingerie people drop in on you, along with shoemakers and squatting cobblers and slipper and sandal merchants and dealers in mallow dyes; and the belt makers flock around, and the girdle makers along with 'em. And now you may think you've them all paid off. Then up come weavers and lace men and cabinet-makers --  hundreds of 'em --  who plant themselves like jailers in your halls and want you to settle up. You bring 'em in and square accounts. " All paid off now, anyway," you may be thinking, when in march the fellows who do the saffron dyeing -- some damned pest or other, anyhow, eternally after something.

Eucl. (aside) I'd hail him, only I'm afraid he'd stop talking about how the women go on. No, no, I'll let him be.

Mega. When you've got all these fellows of fluff and ruffles satisfied, along comes a military man, bringing up the rear, and wants to collect the army tax. You go and have a reckoning with your banker, your military gentleman standing by and missing his lunch in the expectation of getting some cash. After you and the banker have done figuring, you find out you owe him money, too, and the military man has his hopes postponed till another day. These are some of the nuisances and intolerable expenses that big dowries let you in for, and there are plenty more. Now a wife that doesn't bring you a penny --  a husband has some control over her: it's the dowered ones that pester the life out of their husbands with the way they cut up and squander. (seeing Euclio) But there's my new relative in front of the house! How are you, Euclio?

Scene 6

Eucl. Gratified, highly gratified with you discourse-I devoured it.

Mega. Eh? you heard?

Eucl. Every word of it.

Mega. (looking him over) But I say, I do think it would be a little more in keeping, if you were to spruce up a bit for your daughter's wedding.

Eucl. (whining) Folks with the wherewithal and means to let 'em spruce up and look smart remember who they are. My goodness, Megadorus! I haven't got a fortune piling up at home (peers slyly under cloak) any more than people think, and no other poor man has, either.

Mega. (genially) Ah well, you've got enough, and heaven make it more and more, and bless you in what you have now.

Eucl. (turning away with a start) "What you have now!" I don't like that phrase! He knows I have this money just as well as I do! The old hag's been blabbing!

Mega. (pleasantly) Why that secret session over there?

Eucl. (taken aback) I was --  damme sir, --  I was framing the complaint against you that you deserve.

Mega. What for?

Eucl. What for, eh? When you've filled every corner of my house with thieves, confound it! When you've sent cooks into my house by the hundred and every one of 'em a Geryonian with six hands apiece! Why, Argus, who had eyes all over him and was set to guarding Io once by Juno, couldn't ever keep watch on those fellow, not if he tried. And that music girl besides! She could take the mountain of Pirene at Corinth and drink it dry, all by herself, she could, --  if it ran wine. Then as for the provisions --

Mega. Bless my soul! Why, there's enough for a regiment. I sent you a lamb, too.

Eucl. Yes, and a more shearable beast than that same lamb doesn't exist, I know that.

Mega. I wish you would tell me how the lamb is shearable.

Eucl. Because it's mere skin and bones, wasted away till it's perfectly --  (tittering) sheer. Why, why, you put that lamb in the sun and you can watch its inwards work: it's as transparent as a Punic lamp.

Mega. (protestingly) I got that lamb in myself to be slaughtered.

Eucl. (dryly) Then you'd best put it out yourself to be buried, for I do believe it's dead already.

Mega. (laughing and clapping him on the shoulder) Euclio, we must have a little carouse to-day, you and I.

Eucl. (frightened) None for me, sir, none for me! Carouse! Oh my Lord!

Mega. But see here, I'll just have a cask of good old wine brought over from my cellars.

Eucl. No,no! I don't care for any! The fact is, I am resolved to drink nothing but water.

Mega. (digging him in the ribs) I'll get you properly soaked to-day, on my life I will, you with your, "resolved to drink nothing but water."

Eucl. (aside) I see his game! Trying to fuddle me with his wine, that's it, and then give this(looking under cloak) a new domicile! (pauses) I'll take measures against that: yes, I'll secrete it somewhere outside the house. I'll make him throw away his time and wine together.

Mega. (turning to go) Well, unless I can do something for you, I'll go take a bath and get ready to offer sacrifice. (exit into house)

Eucl. (paternally to object under cloak) God bless us both, pot, you do have enemies, ah yes, many enemies, you and the gold entrusted to you! As matters stand, pot, the best thing I can do for you is to carry you off to the shrine of Faith: I'll hide you away there, just as cosy! You know me, Faith, and I know you: don't change your name,mind, if I trust this to you. Yes, I'll go to you, Faith, relying on your faithfulness. (exit Euclio)