Act I, Scene II

Enter DEMEA.

DEM. Oh,-- opportunely met; you are the very man I was looking for.

MIC. Why are you out of spirits?

DEM. Do you ask me, when we have such a son as Æschinus, why I’m out of spirits?

MIC. (aside.) Did I not say it would be so? (To DEMEA.) What has he been doing?

DEM. What has he been doing? He, who is ashamed of nothing, and fears no one, nor thinks that any law can control him. But I pass by what has been previously done: what a thing he has just perpetrated!

MIC. Why, what is it?

DEM. He has broken open a door, and forced his way into another person’s house, beaten to death the master himself, and all the household, and carried off a wench whom he had a fancy for. All people are exclaiming that it was a most disgraceful proceeding. How many, Micio, told me of this as I was coming here? It is in every body’s mouth. In fine, if an example must be cited, does he not see his brother giving his attention to business, and living frugally and soberly in the country? No action of his is like this. When I say this to him, Micio, I say it to you. You allow him to be corrupted.

MIC. Never is there any thing more unreasonable than a man who wants experience, who thinks nothing right except what he himself has done.

DEM. What is the meaning of that?

MIC. Because, Demea, you misjudge these matters. It is no heinous crime, believe me, for a young man to intrigue or to drink; it is not; nor yet for him to break open a door. If neither I nor you did so, it was poverty that did not allow us to do so. Do you now claim that as a merit to yourself, which you then did from necessity? That is unfair; for if we had had the means to do so, we should have done the same. And, if you were a man, you would now suffer that other son of yours to act thus now, while his age will excuse it, rather than, when he has got you, after long wishing it, out of the way, he should still do so, at a future day, and at an age more unsuited.

DEM. O Jupiter! You, sir, are driving me to distraction. Is it not a heinous thing for a young man to do these things?

MIC. Oh! do listen to me, and do not everlastingly din me upon this subject. You gave me your son to adopt; he became mine; if he offends in any thing, Demea, he offends against me: in that case I shall bear the greater part of the inconvenience. Does he feast, does he drink, does he smell of perfumes,-- it is at my cost. Does he intrigue, money shall be found by me, so long as it suits me; when it shall be no longer convenient, probably he’ll be shut out of doors. Has he broken open a door-- it shall be replaced; has he torn any one’s clothes-- they shall be mended. Thanks to the Gods, I both have means for doing this, and these things are not as yet an annoyance. In fine, either desist, or else find some arbitrator between us: I will show that in this matter you are the most to blame.

DEM. Ah me! Learn to be a father from those who are really so.

MIC. You are his father by nature, I by my anxiety.

DEM. You, feel any anxiety?

MIC. Oh dear,-- if you persist, I’ll leave you.

DEM. Is it thus you act?

MIC. Am I so often to hear about the same thing?

DEM. I have some concern for my son.

MIC. I have some concern for him too; but, Demea, let us each be concerned for his own share-- you for the one, and I for the other. For, to concern yourself about both is almost the same thing as to demand him back again, whom you intrusted to me.

DEM. Alas, Micio!

MIC. So it seems to me.

DEM. What am I to say to this? If it pleases you, henceforth-- let him spend, squander, and destroy; it’s nothing to me. If I say one word after this----

MIC. Again angry, Demea?

DEM. Won’t you believe me? Do I demand him back whom I have intrusted? I am concerned for him; I am not a stranger in blood; if I do interpose-- well, well, I have done. You desire me to concern myself for one of them,-- I do concern myself; and I give thanks to the Gods, he is just as I would have him; that fellow of yours will find it out at a future day: I don’t wish to say any thing more harsh against him. (Exit.