to Phormio.
Dem. Young man, I beg your pardon, but will you be kind enough to tell me who that friend of yours was that you are talking about, and how he said I was related to him? Phor. O, you ask as if you didn't know. Dem. As if I didn't know? Phor. Yes. Dem. And I say that I don't know. Now do you, who say that I do, refresh my memory. Phor. Didn't you know your own cousin? Dem. O, you make me tired. Tell me his name. Phor. The name? Why, certainly.
But now the name by which he had heard Phanium speak of her father has slipped from his mind, and he is forced to awkward silence. Demipho is quick to see his embarrassment:
Well, why don't you speak? Phor. [aside]. By George! I'm in a box! I have forgotten the name. Dem. What's that you say? Phor. [aside in a whisper to Geta]. Say, Geta, if you remember that name we heard the other day, tell it to me. [Then determining to bluff it out, he turns to Demipho]. No, I won't tell you the name. You are trying to pump me, as if you didn't know it already. Dem. [angrily]. I pump you? Ge. [whispering]. It's Stilpho. Phor. [to Demipho]. And yet what do I care? It's Stilpho. Dem. Who? Phor. [shouting it at him]. Stilpho, I say. Did you know him? Dem. No, I didn't, And I never had a relative of that name. Phor. No? Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Now if he had left a matter of ten talents—Dem. Confound your impudence! Phor. You would be the first to come forward, with a very good memory, and trace your connection with him for generations back. Dem. Well, have it as you say. Then when I had come into court. I should have told just how she was related to me. Now you do the same. Come, how is she related to me? Phor. I have already explained that to those who had a right to ask—the judges. If my statement was false then, why didn't your son refute it? Dem. Don't mention my son to me! I can't possibly express my disgust at his folly. Phor. Then do you, who are so wise, go before the magistrates and ask them to reopen the case. [This, according to the law of Athens, was impossible.]
Demipho has twice been completely beaten in a war of words—once by Geta and now by Phormio. He chokes down his rage as best he can, and now makes a proposition to his enemy. He is still too angry to express himself very connectedly.
Dem. Although I have been outraged in this business, still, rather than have a quarrel with such as you, just as if she were related to me, since the law bids to give her a dowry, take her away from here, and make it fui minæ. Phor. Ho! ho! ho! Well, you are a cheerful idiot! Dem. What's the matter? Have I asked anything wrong? Or can't I get even what is my legal right? Phor. Well, really now, I should like to ask you, when you have once married a girl, does the law bid you then to give her some money and send her packing? On the contrary, it is for the very purpose that a citizen of Athens may not come to shame on account of her poverty, that her next of kin is bidden to take her to wife. And this purpose you are attempting to thwart. Dem. Yes, that's just it—"her next of kin." But where do I come in on that score? Phor. O pshaw! don't thresh over old straw. Dem. Sha'n't I? I vow I shall not stop until I have accomplished my ends.
After further badgering and bear-baiting on the part of Phormio, Demipho finally falls back upon his dogged determination as before, and gives his ultimatum:
See here, Phormio, we have said enough. Unless you take immediate steps to get that woman away, I'll throw her out of the house. I have spoken, Phormio.
Phormio is not to be outdone in bluster, and adopting Demipho's formula, as well as his tone and gestures, he says:
And if you touch that girl except as becomes a free-born citizen, I'll bring a cracking suit against you. I have spoken, Demipho.
So saying, he turns and swaggers off the stage, much to the secret delight of Geta, the impotent rage of Demipho, and the open-mouthed amazement of the three friends.
Demipho now appeals to his friends for advice as to how to proceed in this crisis; but they are so obsequious in their manner, and so contradictory in their advice, that Demipho is in greater perplexity than before, and decides to take no action at all until his brother Chremes comes home. He accordingly leaves the stage in the direction of the harbor, his three friends having already bowed themselves out.
This temporary disposition of Antipho's case is fittingly followed by the appearance of the young man himself in self-reproachful soliloquy that he should have run away and left his young wife in the lurch. Geta appears, and tells Antipho all that has passed in his absence, much to Antipho's gratitude and relief, though he sorely dreads the return of his uncle, who, it seems, is to be the arbiter of his destiny.
Phædria and his troubles now claim the center of the stage. As Antipho and Geta stand talking, they hear a pitiful outcry, and looking up, they see a black-browed, evil-faced, typical stage villain, who we presently discover is Dorio, the slave-driver who owns Phædria's sweetheart. Things have evidently come to a crisis with that young man. He is following Dorio, and imploring him to wait three days until he can get money enough to buy his sweetheart. But Dorio says he has a customer who offers cash down. After much entreaty, however, he tells Phædria that if the money is forthcoming before to-morrow morning he will consider the bargain closed. So there Phædria's business is brought to a head, and the attention of us all must be at once turned to what has suddenly become the paramount issue. What is to be done? Phædria is too hysterical to be of any help in the matter, and Antipho tells the faithful and resourceful Geta that he must get the money somehow. Geta says that this is liable to be a pretty difficult matter, and doesn't want to undertake it, but is finally persuaded by Phædria's pitiful despair to try. He asks Phædria how much money he needs.
Phæd. Only six hundred dollars. Ge. Six hundred dollars! Whew! she's pretty dear, Phædria. Phæd. [indignantly]. It's no such thing! She's cheap at the price. Ge. Well, well! I'll get you the money somehow.
The third act gives a picture of the situation from the point of view of the two old men, Demipho and Chremes, for the latter has just returned from Lemnos, and now comes upon the stage fresh from his travels, in company with his brother. We now discover for the first time what is probably the real reason for the opposition to Antipho's marriage to the orphan girl.
Dem. Well, Chremes, did you bring your daughter with you, for whose sake you went to Lemnos? Chr. No, I didn't. Dem. Why not? Chr. When her mother saw that I was delaying my coming too long, and that my negligence was harming our daughter, who had now reached a marriageable age, she simply packed up her whole household, and came here to hunt me up—so they told me over there. And then I heard from the skipper who brought them that they reached Athens all right. Dem. Have you heard what has happened to my son while I was gone? Chr. Yes, and it's knocked all my plans into a cocked hat. For if I make a match for my daughter with some outsider, I'll have to tell him categorically just how she comes to be mine, and who her mother is. I was secure in our proposed match between her and Antipho, for I knew that my secret was as safe in your hands as in my own; whereas if an outsider comes into the family, he will keep the secret as long as we are on good terms; but if we ever quarrel, he will know more than is good for me [looking around cautiously, and speaking with bated breath]; and I'm dreadfully afraid that my wife will find it out in some way. And if she does, the only thing left for me to do is to take myself off and leave home; for my soul is the only thing I can call my own in this house.
From this it develops that Chremes has had a wife and daughter in Lemnos, and now lives in wholesome fear of his too masterful Athenian spouse.
Geta now comes upon the stage in fine spirits, loud in his praises of the shrewdness of Phormio, with whom he has just concluded a scheme for getting the money. He is in search of Demipho, and is surprised to find Chremes on hand as well. Meanwhile, Antipho has come cautiously upon the stage in search of Geta, just as the latter goes boldly up to the two old men. As yet unseen by any one, Antipho retires to the back of the stage, and overhears the following conversation:
Ge. O, how do you do, good Chremes! Chr. [crustily]. How are you? Ge. How are things with you? Chr. One finds many changes on coming back, as is natural