Title: The Captivi and the Mostellaria
Author: Plautus, Titus Maccius, 254 BC-184 BC
Language: English
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THE CAPTIVI AND THE MOSTELLARIA OF PLAUTUS

Literally Translated _with notes_

BY HENRY THOMAS RILEY, B. A.


DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

  HEGIO, an Aetolian, father of Philopolemus.
  PHILOCRATES, an Elean, captive in Aetolia.
  TYNDARUS, his servant.
  ARISTOPHONTES, an Elean, captive in Aetolia.
  PHILOPOLEMUS, an Aetolian, captive in Elis.
  ERGASILUS, a Parasite.
  STALAGAMUS, the servant of Hegio.
  A SLAVE of Hegio.
  A LAD, the same.

_Scene_.--A place in Aetolia.

THE ACROSTIC ARGUMENT [1].

[Supposed to have been written by Priseian the Grammarian.] _One_ son of
Hegio has been made prisoner (_Captus_) in battle. A runaway slave
has sold the other (_Alium_) when four years old. The father (_Pater_)
traffics in Elean captives, only (_Tantum_) desirous that he may recover
his son, and (_Et_) among these he buys his son that was formerly lost.
He (_Is_), his clothes and his name changed with his master, causes that
(_Ut_) he is lost _to Hegio_; _and_ he himself is punished. And (_Et_)
he brings back the captive and the runaway together, through whose
information (_Indicio_) he discovers his other.

[Footnote 1: In this Acrostic it will be found that the old form of
"Capteivei" is preserved.]

* * * * *

THE PROLOGUE.

These two captives (_pointing to_ PHILOCRATES _and_ TYNDARUS), whom
you see standing here, are standing here because--they are both [1]
standing, _and_ are not sitting. That I am saying this truly, you are my
witnesses. The old man, who lives here (_pointing to_ HEGIO's
_house_), is Hegio--his father (_pointing to_ TYNDARUS). But under
what circumstances he is the slave of his own father, that I will here
explain to you, if you give attention. This old man had two sons; a
slave stole one child when four years old, and flying hence, he sold
him in Elis [2], to the father of this _captive_ (_pointing to_
PHILOCRATES). Now, do you understand this? Very good. I' faith, that man
at a distance [3] there (_pointing_) says, no. Come nearer _then_. If
there isn't room for you to sit down, there is for you to walk; since
you'd be compelling an actor to bawl like a beggar [4]. I'm not going
to burst myself for your sake, _so_ don't you be mistaken. You who are
enabled by your means to pay your taxes [5], listen to the rest [6];
I care not to be in debt to another. This runaway _slave_, as I said
before, sold his _young_ master, whom, when he fled, he had carried
off, to this one's father. He, after he bought him, gave him as his own
private slave [7] to this son of his, because they were of about the
same age. He is now the slave at home of his own father, nor does his
father know it. Verily, the Gods do treat us men just like footballs
[8]. You hear the manner _now_ how he lost one _son_. Afterwards, the
Aetolians [9] are waging war with the people of Elis, _and_, as happens
in warfare, the other son is taken prisoner. The physician Menarchus
buys him there in Elis. _On this_, this _Hegio_ begins to traffic in
Elean captives, if, _perchance_, he may be able to find one to change
for that captive _son_ of his. He knows not that this one who is in his
house is his own _son_. And as he heard yesterday that an Elean knight
of very high rank and very high family was taken prisoner, he has spared
no expense to rescue his son [10]. In order that he may more easily
bring him back home, he buys both of these of the Quaestors [11] out of
the spoil.

Now they, between themselves, have contrived this plan, that, by means
of it, the servant may send away hence his master home. And therefore
among themselves they change their garments and their names. He, there
(_pointing_), is called Philocrates; this one (_pointing_), Tyndarus;
he this day assumes the character of this one, this one of him. And this
one to-day will cleverly carry out this plot, and cause his master to
gain his liberty; and by the same means he will save his own brother,
and without knowing it, will cause him to return back a free man to
his own country to his father, just as often now, on many occasions, a
person has done more good unknowingly than knowingly. But unconsciously,
by their devices, they have so planned and devised their plot, and have
so contrived it by their design, that this one is living in servitude
with his own father. _And_ thus now, in ignorance, he is the slave of
his own father. What poor creatures are men, when I reflect upon it!
This plot will be performed by us--a play for your _entertainment_. But
there is, besides, a thing which, in a few words, I would wish to inform
you of. Really, it will be worth your while to give your attention to
this play. 'Tis not composed in the hackneyed style, nor yet like other
_plays_, nor are there in it any ribald lines [12] unfit for utterance:
here is neither the perjured procurer, nor the artful courtesan, nor yet
the braggart captain. Don't you be afraid because I've said that there's
war between the Aetoliains and the Eleans. There (_pointing_), at a
distance, beyond the scenes, the battles will be fought. For this were
almost impossible for a Comic establishment[13], that we should at a
moment attempt to be acting Tragedy. If, therefore, any one is looking
for a battle, let him commence the quarrel; if he shall find an
adversary more powerful, I'll cause him to be the spectator of a battle
that isn't pleasant _to him_, so that hereafter he shall hate to be
a spectator of them all. I _now_ retire. Fare ye well, at home, most
upright judges, and in warfare most valiant combatants.

[Footnote 1: _Because--they are both_)--Ver. 2. This is apparently
intended as a piece of humour, in catching or baulking the audience. He
begins as though he was going to explain why the captives are standing
there, and ends his explanation with saying that they are standing
because they are not sitting. A similar truism is uttered by Pamphila,
in the Stichus, l. 120.]

[Footnote 2: _In Elis_)--Ver. 9. Elis, or, as it is called by Plautus,
"Alis," was a city of Achaia, in the north-western part of the
Peloponnesus. Near it the Olympic games were celebrated.]

[Footnote 3: _That man at a distance_)--Ver. 11. One of the audience,
probably a plebeian who has no seat, but is standing in a remote part of
the theatre, is supposed to exclaim in a rude manner that he cannot hear
what the actor says. On this the speaker tells him that he had better
come nearer; and if he cannot find a seat, there is room for him to walk
away. Possibly the verb "ambulo" may be intended to signify in this case
either "to walk" or "to stand," in contradistinction to sitting.
Rost, with some reason, suggests "abscedito" "walk out," in place of
"accedito," "come nearer."]

[Footnote 4: _To bawl like a beggar_)--Ver. 13. Commentators have
differed as to the meaning of this passage. Some think that he means
that with the view of pleasing the plebeian part of the audience, he
shall not bawl out like a beggar asking alms; while others suppose that
the meaning is, that he will not run the risk of cracking his voice,
after which he will be hissed off the stage, and so be reduced to
beggary.]

[Footnote 5: _To pay your taxes_)--Ver. 15. By this he shows that the
party whom he is addressing, is either one of the lowest plebeians or a
slave. In the assessment or census, which was made by the Censors, the
slaves were not numbered at all, being supposed to have no "caput," or
"civil condition." The lowest century were the "proletarii," whose only
qualification was the being heads of families, or fathers of children.
In addressing those who are reckoned in the census "ope vestra,"
"by your means" or "circumstances," he seems to be rebuking the
"proletarii," who had no such standing, and who probably formed the
most noisy part of the audience. As these paid no part of the taxes
with which the theatres were in part supported, of course they would
be placed at a greater distance from the stage, and probably were not
accommodated with seats. It was just about this period that the elder
Scipio assigned different places in the theatres to the various classes
of the people.]

[Footnote 6: _Listen to the rest_)--Ver. 16. "Reliquum" was a term which
either signified generally, "what is left," or money borrowed and still
unpaid. He plays upon these different meanings--"Accipite reliquum,"
which may either signify "hear the rest" or "take what is due and
owing," and he then makes the observation, parenthetically, "alieno uti
nil moror," "I don't care to be in debt."]

[Footnote 7: _His own private slave_)--Ver. 20. "Peculiaris" means "for
his own private use," or "attached to his person;" being considered
as though bought with his son's "peculium," or out of his own private
purse. The "peculium" was the sum of money which a son in his minority
was allowed by his father to be in possession of. The word also
signified the savings of the slave.]

[Footnote 8: _Just like footballs_)--Ver. 22. "Pilas." Among the
ancients, games with the "pila" were those played with the "pila
trigonalis," so called, probably, from the players standing in a
triangle, and those with the "follis," which was a larger ball, inflated
with air and struck with the hands, or used for a football. "Paganica"
was a similar ball, but harder, being stuffed with feathers, and was
used by the country-people. "Harpastum" was a small ball used by the
Greeks, which was scrambled for as soon as it came to the ground,
whence it received its name. The Greeks had a proverb similar to this
expression, [Greek: Theon paignia anthropoi], "men are the playthings of
the Gods." So Plato called mankind [Greek: Theon athurmata], "the sport
of the Gods."]

[Footnote 9: _The Aetolians_)--Ver. 24. Aetolia was a country of Greece,
the southern portion of which was bounded by the Corinthian Gulf; it was
opposite to the Elean territory, from which it was divided by the gulf.]

[Footnote 10: _To rescue his son_)--Ver. 32. "Filio dum parceret."
Literally, "so long as he might spare his son."]

[Footnote 11: _Of the Quaestors_)--Ver. 34. In speaking of these
officers, Plautus, as usual, introduces Roman customs into a Play the
scene of which is in Greece. It has been previously remarked that the
Quaestors had the selling of the spoils taken in war]

[Footnote 12: _Any ribald lines_)--Ver. 56. See the address of the
Company of actors to the Spectators at the end of the Play.]

[Footnote 13: _A Comic establishment_)--Ver. 61. "Comico choragio."
Literally, "for the choragium of Comedy." The "choragium" was the
dress and furniture, or "properties" for the stage, supplied by the
"choragus." or keeper of the theatrical wardrobe.]


ACT I.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ ERGASILUS.

ERG. The young men have given me the name of "the mistress," for this
reason, because invocated [1] I am wont to attend at the banquet. I know
that buffoons [2] say that this is absurdly said, but I affirm that
it is rightly _said_. For at the banquet the lover, when he throws the
dice, invokes his mistress.[3] Is she _then_ invocated, or _is she_ not?
She is, most clearly. But, i' faith, we Parasites with better reason
_are so called_, whom no person ever either invites or invokes, _and
who_, like mice, are always eating the victuals of another person. When
business is laid aside [4], when people repair to the country, at that
same moment is business laid aside for our teeth. Just as, when it is
hot weather, snails lie hidden in secret, _and_ live upon their own
juices, if the dew doesn't fall; so, when business is laid aside, do
Parasites lie hidden in retirement, _and_ miserably live upon their
own juices, while in the country the persons are rusticating whom they
sponge upon. When business is laid aside, we Parasites are greyhounds;
when business recommences, _like_ mastiffs [5], we are annoying-like and
very troublesome-like [6].

And here, indeed, unless, i'faith, any Parasite is able to endure cuffs
with the fist, and pots to be broken [7] about his head, why he may e'en
go with his wallet outside the Trigeminian Gate [8]. That this may prove
my lot, there is some danger. For since my patron [9] has fallen into
the hands of the enemy--(such warfare are the Aetolians now waging with
the Eleans; for this is Aetolia; this Philopolemus has been made captive
in Elis, the son of this old man Hegio who lives here (_pointing to the
house_)--a house which to me is _a house_ of woe, _and_ which so oft
as I look upon, I weep). Now, for the sake of his son, has he commenced
this dishonorable traffic, very much against his own inclination. He
buys up men that have been made captives, if _perchance_ he may be able
to find some one for whom to gain his son in exchange. An object which I
really do much desire that he may gain, for unless he finds him, there's
nowhere for me to find myself. I have no hopes in the young men; they
are all _too_ fond of themselves. He, in fine, is a youth with the
old-fashioned manners, whose countenance I never rendered cheerful
without a return. His father is worthily matched, as endowed with like
manners. Now I'll go to him;--but his door is opening, _the door_ from
which full oft I've sallied forth drunk with excess of cheer (_He stands
aside._)

[Footnote 1: _Because invocated_)--Ver. 70. "Invocatus." The following
Note is extracted from Thornton's Translation of this Play:-- "The
reader's indulgence for the coinage of a new term (and perhaps not quite
so much out of character from the mouth of a Parasite) is here requested
in the use of the word 'invocated' in a sense, which it is owned, there
is no authority for, but without it no way occurs to explain the poet's
meaning--which, such as it is, and involved in such a pun, is all that
can be aimed at. The word 'invocatus' means both 'called upon' and
'not called upon.' Ergasilus here quibbles upon it; for, though at
entertainments be attends, as it is the common character of Parasites to
do, without invitation, that is 'not called upon;' and as mistresses are
'called upon' that their names so invoked may make their lovers throw
the dice with success; still, according to the double sense of the word,
they may be compared to each other, as they are both, according to the
Latin idiom, 'invocati.'"]

[Footnote 2: _That buffoons_)--Ver. 71. "Derisores," "buffoons." By
this word he means that particular class of Parasites who earned their
dinners by their repartees and bon-mots.]

[Footnote 3: _Invokes his mistress_)--Ver. 73. It was the Grecian
custom, when they threw dice at an entertainment, for the thrower to
call his mistress by name, which invocation was considered to bring good
luck.]

[Footnote 4: _When business is laid aside_)--Ver. 78. "Ubi res prolatae
sunt." Meaning thereby "in vacation-time." In the heat of summer the
courts of justice were closed, and the more wealthy portion of the
Romans retired into the country or to the seaside. Cicero mentions this
vacation as "rerum proliatio." The allusion in the previous line is
probably derived from a saying of the Cynic Diogenes: when he saw
mice creeping under the table, he used to say, "See the Parasites of
Diogenes."]

[Footnote 5: _Like mastiffs_)--Ver. 86. "Molossici." Literally, "dogs
of Molossus," a country of Epirus.]

[Footnote 6: _Annoying-like and very troublesome-like_)--Ver. 87.
"Odiosici--incommodestici." These are two extravagant forms of the words
"odiosi" and "incommodi," coined by the author for the occasion.]

[Footnote 7: _Pots to be broken_)--Ver. 89. By Meursius we are informed
that these practical jokes were played upon the unfortunate Parasites
with pots filled with cinders, which were sometimes scattered over their
clothes, to the great amusement of their fellow-guests.]

[Footnote 8: _The Trigeminian Gate_)--Ver. 90. The Ostian Gate was
so called because the Horatii left the city by that gate to fight the
Curiatii. The brothers being born at one birth were "trigemini," whence
the gate received its name. The beggars with their wallets were seated
there. See the Trinummus, 1.423, and the Note to the passage.]

[Footnote 9: _Since my patron_)--Ver. 92. Rex; literally, "king." The
Parasites were in the habit of so calling their entertainers.]


SCENE II.--_Enter, from his house, _HEGIO _and a_ SLAVE.

HEG. _Now_, give attention you, if you please. Those two captives whom
I purchased yesterday of the Quaestors out of the spoil, put upon them
chains of light weight [1]; take of those greater ones with which they
are bound. Permit them to walk, if they wish, out of doors, _or_ if
in-doors, but so that they are watched with the greatest care. A captive
at liberty is like a bird that's wild; if opportunity is once given for
escaping, 'tis enough; after that, you can never catch him.

SLAVE. Doubtless we all are free men more willingly than we live the
life of slaves.

HEG. You, indeed, don't seem _to think_ so [2].

SLAVE. If I have nothing to give, should you like me to give myself to
flight [3]?

HEG. If you do so give _yourself_, I shall at once have something to be
giving to you.

SLAVE. I'll make myself just like the wild bird you were telling of.

HEG. 'Tis just as you say; for if you do so, I'll be giving you to the
cage [4] But enough of prating; take you care of what I've ordered, and
be off. (_The_ SLAVE _goes into the house._) I'll away to my brother's,
to my other captives; I'll go see whether they've been making any
disturbance last night. From there I shall forthwith betake myself home
again.

ERG. (_apart_). It grieves me that this unhappy old man is following the
trade of a slave-dealer, by reason of the misfortune of his son. But, if
by any means he can be brought back here, I could even endure for him to
become an executioner.

HEG. (_overhearing him_). Who is it that's speaking?

ERG. 'Tis I, who am pining at your affliction, growing thin, waxing old,
and shockingly wasting away. Wretched man that I am, I'm _but_ skin and
bone through leanness; nor does anything ever do me good that I eat
at home; even that ever so little which I taste out of doors, the same
refreshes me.

HEG. Ergasilus, save you! ERG. (_crying_). May the Gods kindly bless
you, Hegio!

HEG. Don't weep. ERG. Must I not weep for him? Must I not weep for such
a young man?

HEG. I've always known you to be a friend to my son, and I have
understood him _to be so_ to you.

ERG. Then at last do we men know our blessings, when we have lost those
things which we _once_ had in our power. I, since your son fell into the
power of the enemy, knowing by experience of what value he was, now feel
his loss.

HEG. Since you, who are no relation, bear his misfortune so much amiss,
what is it likely that I, a father, should do, whose only _son_ he is?

ERG. I, no relation _to him_? He, no relation _to me_? Oh, Hegio! never
do say that, nor come to such a belief. To you he is an only _child_,
but to me he is even more only than an only one.

HEG. I commend you, in that you consider the affliction of your friend
your own affliction. Now be of good heart.

ERG. (_crying_). O dear! HEG. (_half-aside_). 'Tis this afflicts him,
that the army for guttling is now disbanded. Meanwhile, have you found
no one to command for you the army that you mentioned as disbanded?

ERG. What do you think? All to whom it used to fall are in the habit of
declining that province since your son Philopolemus was taken prisoner.

HEG. I' faith, 'tisn't to be wondered at, that they are in the habit
of declining that province. You have necessity for numerous troops, and
those of numerous kinds. Well, first you have need of the Bakerians
[5]. Of these Bakerians there are several kinds. You have need of
Roll-makerians, you hare need too of Confectionerians, you have need of
Poultererians, you have need of Beccaficorians; besides all the maritime
forces are necessary for you.

ERG. How the greatest geniuses do frequently lie concealed! How great a
general now is _this_ private individual!

HEG. Only have good courage; for I trust that in a few days I shall
bring him back home. For see _now_; there's a captive here, a young man
of Elis, born of a very high family, and of very great wealth; I trust
that it will come to pass that I shall get my son in exchange for him.

ERG. May the Gods and Goddesses grant it so!

HEG. But are you invited out anywhere to dinner?

ERG. Nowhere that I know of. But, pray, why do you ask me?

HEG. Because this is my birthday; for that reason I'd like you to be
invited to dinner at my house.

ERG. 'Tis kindly said. HEG. But if you can be content to eat a very
little--

ERG. Aye, even ever so little; for on such fare as that do, I enjoy
myself every day at home.

HEG. Come, _then_, please, set yourself up for sale.

ERG. I'll put myself up for purchase, just like a landed estate, unless
any one shall _privately_ make a better offer that pleases myself and my
friends more, _and_ to my own conditions will I bind myself.

HEG. You are surely selling me a bottomless pit [6], _and_ not a landed
estate. But if you are coming, _do so_ in time.

ERG. Why, for that matter. I'm at leisure even now.

HEG. Go then, _and_ hunt for a hare; at present, _in me_ you have but a
ferret [7], for my fare is in the way of frequenting a rugged road.

ERG. You'll never repulse me by that, Hegio, so don't attempt it. I'll
come, in spite of it, with teeth well shod.

HEG. Really, my viands are _but_ of a rough sort [8]. ERG. Are you in
the habit of eating brambles?

HEG. _Mine_ is an earthy dinner. ERG. A pig is an earthy animal.

HEG. _Earthy_ from its plenty of vegetables.

ERG. Treat your sick people [9] at home _with that fare?_ Do you wish
anything else?

HEG. Come in good time. ERG. You are putting in mind one who remembers
quite well. (_Exit._

HEG. I'll go in-doors, and in the house I'll make the calculation how
little money I have at my banker's; afterwards I'll go to my brother's,
whither I was saying I would go. (_Goes into his house._)

[Footnote 1: _Chains of light weight_)--Ver. 112. "Singularias" This
word may admit of three interpretations, and it is impossible to decide
which is the right one. It may mean chains weighting a single
"libra," or pound; it may signify chains for the captives singly, in
contradistiniction to those by which they were fastened to each other;
or it may mean single chains, in opposition to double ones. In the Acts
of the Apostles, ch. 12, v. 6, we read that St. Peter was bound with two
chains; and in ch. 13, v. 33, the chief captain orders St. Paul to be
bound with two chains.]

[Footnote 2: _Don't seem to think so_)--Ver. 120. Hegio means to say
that the slave does not seem to think liberty so very desirable, or
he would try more to please his master and do his duty, which might
probably be the right method for gaining his liberty. As the slave could
generally ransom himself out of his "peculium," or "savings," if they
were sufficient, the slave here either thinks, or pretends to think,
that Hegio is censuring him for not taking those means, and answer,
accordingly, that he has nothing to offer]

[Footnote 3: _Give myself to flight_)--Ver. 121. "Dem in pedes."
Literally, "give myself to my feet," meaning thereby "to run away." He
puns upon this meaning of "dare," and its common signification of "to
give" or "to offer to give."]

[Footnote 4: _Giving you to the cage_)--Ver. 124. "In cavears." He plays
on the word "cavea," which meaning "a cage" for a bird, might also mean
confinement for a prisoner.]

[Footnote 5: _The Bakerians_)--Ver. 162. This and the following
appellations are expressive both of the several trades that contributed
to furnishing entertainments, and, in the Latin, also denoted the names
of inhabitants of several places in Italy or elsewhere. As this meaning
could not be expressed in a literal translation of them, the original
words are here subjoined. In the word "Pistorienses," he alludes to
the bakers, and the natives of Pistorium, a town of Etruria; in the
"Panicei," to the bread or roll bakers, and the natives of Pana, a
little town of the Samnites, mentioned by Strabo; in the "Placentini,"
to the "confectioners" or "cake-makers," and the people of Placentia, a
city in the North of Italy; in the "Turdetani," to the "poulterers"
or "sellers of thrushes," and the people of Turdentania, a district
of Spain; and in the "Fiendulae," to the "sellers of beccaficos," a
delicate bird, and the inhabitants of Ficculae, a town near Rome. Of
course, these appellations, as relating to the trades, are only comical
words coined for the occasion.]

[Footnote 6: _A bottomless pit_)--Ver. 183. He plays upon the
resemblance in sound of the word "fundum," "landed property," to
"profundum," "a deep cavity," to which he compares the Parasite's
stomach. "You sell me landed property, indeed; say rather a bottomless
pit."]

[Footnote 7: _Have but a ferret_)--Ver. 185. This passage has much
puzzled the Commentators; but allowing for some very far-fetched wit,
which is not uncommon with Plautus, it may admit of some explanation. He
tells the Parasite that he had better look for a nicer dinner, a hare,
in fact; for that in dining with him, he will only get the ferret (with
which the hare was hunted) for his dinner. Then, inasmuch as the
ferret was and for following the bare or rabbit into "scruposae viae,"
"impervious" or "rocky places" where they had burrowed, he adds: "For
my dinner, ferret-like, frequents ragged places;" by which he probably
means that it is nothing but a meagre repast of vegetables, of which
possibly capers formed a part, which grow plentifully in Italy, in
old ruins and craggy spots. Some suggest that it was a custom with the
huntsmen, if they failed to catch the hurt, to kill and eat the ferret.]

[Footnote 8: _Are but of a rough sort_)--Ver. 189. The word "asper"
means either "unsavoury" or "prickly," according to the context. Hegio
means to use it in the former sense, but the Parasite, for the sake of
repartee, chooses to take it in the latter.]

[Footnote 9: _Treat your sick people_)--Ver. 191. He means that such a
dinner may suit sick people, but will not be to his taste.]


ACT II.--SCENE I.

_Enter, from the house,_ PHILOCRATES, TYNDARUS, _and_ SLAVES _and_
CAPTIVES of HEGIO.

SLAVE. If the immortal Gods have so willed it that you should undergo
this affliction, it becomes you to endure it with equanimity; if you
do so, your trouble will be lighter [1]. At home you were free men, I
suppose; now if slavery has befallen you, 'tis a becoming way for you
to put up with it, and by your dispositions to render it light, under
a master's rule. Unworthy actions which a master does must be deemed
Worthy ones.

PHIL. _and_ TYND. Alas! alas! alas! SLAVE. There's no need for wailing;
you cause much injury to your eyes. In adversity, if you use fortitude
of mind, it is of service.

PHIL. _and_ TYND. But we are ashamed, because we are in bonds.

SLAVE. But in the result it might cause vexation to our master, if he
were to release you from chains, or allow you to be loose, whom he has
purchased with his money.

PHIL. _and_ TYND. What does he fear from us? We know our duty, what it
is, if he allows us to be loose.

SLAVE. Why, you are meditating escape. I know what it is you are
devising.

PHIL. _and_ TYND. We, make our escape? Whither should we escape?

SLAVE. To your own country. PHIL. _and_ TYND. Out upon you; it would ill
befit us to be following the example of runaways.

SLAVE. Why, faith, should there be an opportunity, I don't advise you
not.

PHIL. _and_ TYND. Do you allow us to make one request.

SLAVE. What is it, pray? PHIL. _and_ TYND. That you will give us an
opportunity of conversing, without these and yourselves for overlookers.

SLAVE. Be it so; go you away from here, _you people_. Let's step here,
on one side. (_To the other_ CAPTIVES _and_ SLAVES.) But commence upon a
short conversation _only_.

PHIL. O yes, it was my intention so to do. Step aside this way (_to_
TYNDARUS).

SLAVE (_to the other_ CAPTIVES). Stand apart from them.

TYND. (_to the_ SLAVE). "We are Both greatly obliged to you, by reason
of your doing so, since you allow us to obtain what we are desirous of.

PHIL. Step here then, at a distance now, if you think fit, that no
listeners may be enabled to overhear our discourse, and that this plan
of ours mayn't be divulged before them for a stratagem is no stratagem,
if you don't plan it with art but _it is_ a very great misfortune if it
becomes disclosed. For if you are my master, and I represent myself as
your servant, still there's need of foresight, _and_ need of caution,
that this may be carried out discreetly and without overlookers, with
carefulness and with cautious prudence and diligence. So great is the
matter that has been commenced upon; this must not be carried out in any
drowsy fashion.

TYND. Just as you shall desire me to be, I will be.

PHIL. I trust _so_. TYND. For now you see that for your precious life
I'm setting at stake my own, _as_ dear _to me_.

PHIL. I know it. TYND. But remember to know it when you shall be
enjoying that which you wish for; for mostly, the greatest part of
mankind follow this fashion; what they wish for, until they obtain it,
they are rightminded; but when they have now got it in their power, from
being rightminded they become most deceitful, and most dishonest; now
I do consider that you are towards me as I wish. What I advise you, I
would advise my own father.

PHIL. I' faith, if I could venture, I would call you father; for next to
my own father, you are my nearest father.

TYND. I understand. PHIL. And therefore I remind you the more
frequently, that you may remember it. I am not your master, but your
servant; now this one thing I do beseech you. Inasmuch as the immortal
Gods hare disclosed to us their wishes, that they desire me to have
_once_ been your master, and now to be your fellow-captive; what
formerly of my right I used to command you, now with entreaties do I
beg of you, by our uncertain fortunes, and by the kindness of my father
towards you, _and_ by our common captivity, which has befallen us by the
hand of the enemy, don't you pay me any greater respect than _I did you_
when you were my slave; and don't you forget to remember who you were,
and who you now are.

TYND. I know, indeed, that I now am you, and that you are I.

PHIL. Well, if you are able carefully to remember that, I have _some_
hope in this scheme _of ours_.

[Footnote 1: _Will be lighter_)--Ver. 197. The English proverb
corresponds with this: What can't be cured must be endured.]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ HEGIO, _from his house, speaking to those within._

HEG. I shall return in-doors just now, when I shall have discovered from
these people what I want _to know_. (_To the_ SLAVES.) Where are those
persons whom I ordered to be brought out of doors here, before the
house?

PHIL. By my faith, I find that you have taken due precaution that we
shouldn't be missed by you, so walled in are we with chains and keepers.

HEG. He that takes precaution that he mayn't be deceived, is hardly on
his guard, even while he's taking precaution; even when he has supposed
that he has taken every precaution, full often is this wary man
outwitted. Was there not good reason, indeed, for me to watch you
carefully, whom I purchased with so large a sum of ready money?

PHIL. Troth, it isn't fair for us to hold you to blame, because you
watch us _closely_; nor yet for you us, if we go away hence, should
there be an opportunity.

HEG. As you _are_ here, so is my son a captive there among your people.

PHIL. He, a captive?

HEG. Even so.

PHIL. We, then, have not proved the only cowards [1].

HEG. (_to PHILOCRATES, _supposing him to be the SERVANT of the other_).
Step you aside this way, for there are some things that I wish to
enquire of you in private, on which subjects I would have you not to be
untruthful to me. (_They step aside._)

PHIL. I will not be, as to that which I shall know; if I shall not know
anything, that which I don't know I'll tell you of.

TYND. (_aside_). Now is the old fellow in the barber's shop; now, at
this very instant, is _Philocrates_ wielding the razor [2]. He hasn't
cared, indeed, to put on the barber's cloth [3], so as not to soil his
dress. But whether to say that he's going to share him close, or _trim
him_ [4] through the comb [5], I don't know; but if he's wise, he'll
scrape him right well to the very quick.

HEG. (_to_ PHILOCRATES). Which would you? Would you prefer to be a
slave, or a free man?--Tell me.

PHIL. That which is the nearest to good, and the furthest off from evil,
do I prefer; although my servitude hasn't proved very grievous _to me_,
nor has it been otherwise to me than if I had been a son in the family.

TYND. (_aside_). Capital! I wouldn't purchase, at a talent's price
_even_, Thales the Milesian [6]; for compared with this man's wisdom,
he was a very twaddler. How cleverly has he suited his language to the
slave's condition.

HEG. Of what family is this Philocrates born?

PHIL. The Polyplusian [7]; which one family is flourishing there, and
held in highest esteem.

HEG. What is he himself? In what esteem is he held there?

PHIL. In the highest, and _that_ by the very highest men.

HEG. Since, then, he is held in such great respect among the Eleans, as
you tell of, what substance has he?--Of large amount?

PHIL. _Enough for him, even_, when an old man, to be melting out the
tallow [8]

HEG. What is his father? Is he living? PHIL, When we departed thence,
we left him alive; whether he's living now or not, Orcus, forsooth, must
know that.

TYND. (_aside_). The matter's all right; he's not only lying, _but_ he's
even philosophizing now.

HEG. What's his name? PHIL. Thesaurochrysonicocroesides [9].

HEG. That name has been given, I suppose, by reason of his wealth, as it
were.

PHIL. Troth, not so, _but_ rather by reason of his avarice and grasping
disposition; for, indeed, he was Theodoromedes originally by name.

HEG. How say you? Is his father covetous?

PHIL. Aye, by my faith, he is covetous. Why, that you may even
understand it the better,--when he's sacrificing at any time to his own
Genius [10], the vessels that are needed for the sacrifice he uses
of Samian ware, lest the Genius himself should steal them; from this,
consider how much he would trust other people.

HEG. (_addressing_ TYNDARUS _as though_ PHILOCRATES). Do you then follow
me this way. (_Aside._) The things that I desire _to know_, I'll enquire
of him. (_Addressing_ TYNDARUS.) Philocrates, this person has done as it
becomes an honest man to do. For from him I've learnt of what family you
are sprang; he has confessed it to me. If you are willing to own these
same things (which, however, understand that I _already_ know from him),
you will be doing it for your own advantage.

TYND. He did his duty when he confessed the truth to you, although,
Hegio, I wished carefully to conceal both my rank and my wealth; now,
inasmuch as I've lost my country and my liberty, I don't think it right
for him to be dreading me rather than you. The might of warfare has
made my fortunes on a level with himself. I remember _the time_ when he
didn't dare _to do it_ in word; now, in deed, he is at liberty to offend
me. But don't you see? Human fortune moulds and fashions just, as she
wills. Myself, who was a free man she has made a slave, from the very
highest the very lowest. I, who was accustomed to command, now obey the
mandates of another. And indeed, if I meet with a master just such as I
proved the ruler in my own household, I shall not fear that he will rule
me harshly or severely. With this, Hegio, I wished you to be acquainted,
unless perchance you yourself wish it not.

HEG. Speak boldly _out_. TYND. As free a man was I till lately as your
son. As much did a hostile hand deprive me of my liberty as him of
his. As much is he a slave among my people, as am now a slave here with
yourself. There is undoubtedly a God, who both hears and sees the things
which we do. Just as you shall treat me here, in the same degree will he
have a care for him. To the well-deserving will he show favour, to the
ill-deserving will he give a like return. As much as you lament your
son, so much does my father lament me.

HEG. That I am aware of. But do you admit the same that he has disclosed
to me?

TYND. I confess that my father has very great wealth at home, and that
I am born of a very noble family; but I entreat you, Hegio, let not my
riches make your mind too prone to avarice, lest it should seem to my
father, although I am his only _son_, more suitable that I should be a
slave in your house, bountifully supplied at your expense and with your
clothing, rather than be living the life of a beggar where 'twould be
far from honorable.

HEG. By the favour of the Gods and of my forefathers, I am rich enough.
I don't quite believe that every _kind of_ gain is serviceable to
mankind. I know that gain has already made many a man famous; and yet
there are occasions when it is undoubtedly better to incur loss than _to
make_ gain. Gold I detest: many a one has it persuaded to many an evil
course. Now give your attention to this, that you may know as well what
my wishes are. My son, taken prisoner, is in servitude at Elis there
among your people; if you restore him to me, don't you give me a single
coin besides; both you and him, _your servant_, I'll send back from
here; on no other terms can you depart _hence_.

TYND. You ask what's very right and very just, and you are the very
kindest person of all mankind. But whether is he in servitude to a
private person or to the public [11]?

HEG. In private _servitude_ to Menarchus, a physician.

PHIL. By my faith, that person's surely his father's dependant. Why
really, that's down as pat for you, as the shower is when it rains.

HEG. Do you _then_ cause this person, _my son_, to be redeemed.

TYND. I'll do _so_: but this I beg of you, Hegio--

HEG. Whatever you wish, so that you request nothing against my interest,
I'll do.

TYND. Listen then, _and_ you'll know. I don't ask for myself to be
released, until he has returned. But I beg of you to give me him
(_pointing to_ PHILOCRATES) with a price set [12] upon him, that I may
send him to my father, that this person, _your son_, may be redeemed
there.

HEG. Why no; I'd rather send another person hence, when there shall be a
truce, to confer with your father there, _and_ to carry your injunctions
which you shall entrust him with, just as you wish.

TYND. But it's of no use to send to him one that he doesn't know; you'd
be losing your labour. Send this person; he'll have it all completed, if
he gets there. And you cannot send any person to him more faithful, nor
one in whom he places more confidence, nor who is more a servant after
his own mind; nor, in fact, one to whom he would more readily entrust
your son. Have no fears; at my own peril I'll make proof of his
fidelity, relying upon his disposition; because he is sensible that I'm
kindly disposed towards him.

HEG. Well then, I'll send him with a price set upon him, on the surety
of your promise, if you wish it.

TYND. I do wish it; so soon as ever it can, I want this matter to be
brought to completion.

HEG. What reason is there, then, that if he doesn't return, you should
not pay me twenty minae for him?

TYND. Yes--very good. HEG. (_to the_ SLAVES, _who obey_). Release
him now forthwith; and, indeed, both of them. (_On being released_,
PHILOCRATES _goes into the house_.)

TYND. May all the Gods grant you all your desires, since you have
deigned me honor so great, and since you release me from my chains.
Really, this is not _so_ irksome now, since my neck is free from the
collar-chain.

HEG. The kindnesses that are done to the good, thanks for the same are
pregnant with blessings. Now, if you are about to send him thither,
direct, instruct him, give him the orders which you wish to be carried
to your father. Should you like me to call him to you?

TYND. Do call him. (HEGIO _goes to the door, and calls_ PHILOCRATES.)

[Footnote 1: _The only cowards_)--Ver. 267. He alludes to the notion
in the heroic times, that it was the duty of a warrior to conquer or to
die, and that it was disgraceful to be made prisoner.]

[Footnote 2: _Wielding the razor_)--Ver. 271. It is hard to say whether
by the word "cuttros," in this passage, razors or scissors are meant.]

[Footnote 3: _To put on the barber's cloth_)--Ver. 272. He probably
means by this expression that Philocrates has made no preamble, and
shown no hesitation, in commencing at once to dupe the old man.]

[Footnote 4: _Or trim him_)--Ver. 273. He alludes here to the two
kinds of shaving and trimming the beard used by the barbers among the
ancients. The one was close "strictim," when they shaved to the skin;
the other was, when with a pair of scissors they clipped the hair, with
the interposition of a comb. The former fashion was called by the Greeks
[Greek: _skaphion_]; the latter method, which was borrowed from the
Persians, [Greek: _kaepos_]. "Esse in tonstrina," "to be in the barber's
shop," was a proverbial expression to denote "being imposed upon."
Tyndarus is wondering to what extent Philocrates is going to impose upon
Hegio.]

[Footnote 5: _Through the comb_)--Ver. 273. The Greeks and Romans made
their combs of boxwood, much of which was imported from Paphlagonia. The
Egyptians used them made of wood and of ivory, and toothed on one side
only; while those of the Greeks had teeth on both sides.]

[Footnote 6: _Thales the Milesian_)--Ver. 279. A talent would be a low
price for such a learned slave as Thales the Milesian, who was one of
the seven wise men of Greece. He says, however, that Thales at such a
low price would be nothing in comparison with Philocrates for the same
money.]

[Footnote 7: _The Polyplusian_)--Ver. 282. This word is coined by
Philocrates for the occasion, as being the name of his family, from the
Greek word _[Greek: polyplousios]_, "very wealthy;" probably with the
idea of raising the expectations of Hegio and making him the more ready
to promote an exchange of his own son for a member of so opulent a
family.]

[Footnote 8: _Melting out the tallow_)--Ver. 286. Hegio asks him if his
riches are very abundant, and in doing so uses the word "opimae," of
which the primary meaning was "fat;" the other answers, "Yes, so fat
that he can be melting the tallow out of them even when he is an old
man;" meaning thereby that he is amply provided with means.].

[Footnote 9: _Thesaurochrysonicocraesides_)--Ver. 290. This is a name
made up of several Greek words, and seems to mean "a son of Croesus,
abounding in treasures of gold," in allusion to Croesus, the wealthy
king of Lydia. The author indulges in similar pleasantry in the Miles
Gloriosus.]

[Footnote 10: _To his own Genius_)--Ver. 295. As the Genius of a man was
not only his guardian Deity through life, but the word was also used
to signify his capacity for enjoyment; the term "to sacrifice to his
Genius," is supposed by some Commentators to mean, "to indulge the
appetite in feasting and good cheer." This, however, seems not to be the
meaning in this instance; and he probably intends to be understood as
alluding, literally, to the domestic sacrifice to the Genius.]

[Footnote 11: _Or to the public_)--Ver. 339. Some captives were employed
in the public service, while others fell into the hands of private
individuals.]

[Footnote 12: _With a price set_)--Ver. 845. "Aestimatus" here means
"entrusted to a person at a fixed value, and at his risk for the due
return of it."]


SCENE III.--_Enter_ PHILOCRATES, _from the house._

HEG. May this affair turn out happily for myself and for my son, and
for yourselves. (_To_ PHILOCRATES.) Your new master wishes you to pay
faithful obedience to your former owner in what he wishes. For I have
presented you to him, with the price of twenty minae set upon you: and
he says that he is desirous to send you away hence to his father, that
he may there redeem my son, _and_ that an exchange may be made between
me and him for our _respective_ sons.

PHIL. My disposition takes its course straight in either direction, both
to yourself and to him; as a wheel [1] you may make use of me; either
this way or that can I be turned, whichever way you shall command me.

HEG. You yourself profit the most from your own disposition, when
you endure slavery just as it ought to be endured. Follow me. (_To_
TYNDARUS.) See here's _your_ man.

TYND. I return you thanks, since you give me this opportunity and
permission to send this messenger to my parents, who may relate all the
matter in its order to my father, what I'm doing here, and what I wish
to be done. (_To_ PHILOCRATES.) Now, Tyndarus, thus is it arranged
between myself and him, that I'm to send you, valued at a fixed price,
to my father in Elis; so that, if you don't return hither, I'm to give
twenty minae for you.

PHIL. I think that you've come to a right understanding. For your father
expects either myself or some messenger to come from here to him.

TYND. I wish you, then, to mind what message it is I want you to carry
hence to my country to my father.

PHIL. Philocrates, as up to this moment I have done, I will take all due
care to endeavour that which may especially conduce to your interest,
and to pursue the same with heart and soul, and with my ears.

TYND. You act just as you ought to act; now I wish you to give
attention. In the first place of all, carry my respects to my mother
and my father, and to my relations, and if any one else you see
well-disposed _towards me_: _say_ that I am in health here, and that I
am a slave, in servitude to this most worthy man, who has ever honored
me more and more with his respect, and does _so still_.

PHIL. Don't you be instructing me as to that; I can, still, easily bear
that in mind.

TYND. For, indeed, except that I have a keeper, I deem myself to be a
free man. Tell my father on what terms I have agreed with this party
about his son.

PHIL. What I remember, it is sheer delay to be putting me in mind of.

TYND. To redeem me, and to send him back here in exchange for both of
us.

PHIL. I'll remember it. HEG. But as soon as he can that is especially to
the interest of us both.

PHIL. You _are_ not more _anxious_ to see your son, than he _is to see_
his.

HEG. My son is dear to myself, _and_ his own to every man.

PHIL. (_to_ TYNDARUS). Do you wish any other message to be carried to
your father?

TYND. _Say_ that I am well here; and do you boldly tell him, Tyndarus,
that we have been of dispositions for uninterrupted harmony between
ourselves, and that you have neither been deserving of censure, nor that
I have proved your enemy; and that still, amid miseries so great, you
have shown implicit obedience to your master, and that you have
never abandoned me, either in deed or in fidelity, amid my wavering,
unprosperous fortunes. When my father shall know this, Tyndarus, how
well-disposed you have proved towards his son and himself, he will never
be so avaricious but that he'll give you your liberty for nothing. And
by my own endeavours, if I return hence, I'll make him do so the
more readily. For by your aid and kindness, and good disposition and
prudence, you have caused me to be allowed to return to my parents once
again, inasmuch as to _Hegio_ you have confessed both my rank and my
wealth; by means of which, through your wisdom, you have liberated your
master from his chains.

PHIL. The things which you mention I have done, and I am pleased that
you remember this. Deservedly have they been done for you by me; for
now, Philocrates, if I, too, were to mention the things that you have
kindly done for me, the night would cut short the day. For, had you been
my slave _even_, no otherwise were you always obliging to me.

HEG. Ye Gods, by our trust in you! _behold_ the kindly disposition
of _these_ persons! How they draw _the very_ tears from me! See how
cordially they love each other, _and_ with what praises the servant has
commended his master.

PHIL. I' troth, he hasn't commended me the one hundredth part of what he
himself deserves to be commended in my praises.

HEG. (_to_ PHILOCRATES). Since, then, you have acted most becomingly,
now there's an opportunity to add to your good in managing this matter
with fidelity towards him.

PHIL. I am not able more to wish it done, than by my endeavours to try
to bring it about. That you may know this, Hegio, with praises do I call
supreme Jove to witness that I will not prove unfaithful to Philocrates
[2]--

HEG. You are a worthy fellow. PHIL. And that I will never in anything
act otherwise towards him than towards my own self.

TYND. I wish you to put these speeches to the test, both by your deeds
and your actions; and inasmuch as I have said the less about you than
I had wished, I wish you _the more_ to give me your attention, and
take you care not to be angry with me by reason of these words. But, I
beseech you, reflect that you are sent hence home with a price set upon
you at my risk, and that my life is here left as a pledge for you. Do
not you forget me the very moment that you have left my presence, since
you will have left me here behind a captive in captivity for yourself,
and _don't_ consider yourself as free, _and_ forsake your pledge [3],
and not use your endeavours for you to bring his son home again, in
return for me. Understand that you are sent hence valued at twenty
minae. Take care to prove scrupulously faithful; take care that you show
not a wavering fidelity. For my father, I am sure, will do everything
that he ought to do. Preserve me as a constant friend to you, and find
out [4] this person _so lately_ discovered. These things, by your right
hand, holding you with my _own_ right hand, do I beg of you; do not
prove less true to me than I have proved to you. This matter do you
attend to; you are now my master, you my patron, you my father; to you
do I commend my hopes and my fortunes.

PHIL. You have given injunctions enough. Are you satisfied if I bring
back accomplished what you have enjoined?

TYND. Satisfied. PHIL. (_to_ HEGIO). According to your wishes, and (_to_
TYNDARUS) according to yours, will I return, hither provided. Is there
anything else?

TYND. For you to return bad as soon as ever you can.

PHIL. The business _itself_ reminds _me of that_.

HEG. (_to_ PHILOCRATES). Follow me, that I may give you your expenses
for the journey at my banker's; on the same occasion I'll get a passport
from the Praetor.

TYND. What passport [5]? HEG. For him to take with him hence to the
army, that he may be allowed to go home from here. (_To_ TYNDARUS.) You
go in-doors.

TYND. Speed you well. PHIL. Right heartily, farewell. (TYNDARUS _goes
into the house._)

HEG. (_aside_). I' faith, I compassed my design, when I purchased these
men of the Quaestors out of the spoil. I have released my son from
slavery, if _so_ it pleases the Gods; and yet I hesitated a long time
whether I should purchase or should not purchase these persons. Watch
that man indoors, if you please, you servants, that he may nowhere move
a foot without a guard. I shall soon make my appearance at home; now I'm
going to my brother's, to see my other captives; at the same time I'll
enquire whether any one knows this young man. (_To_ PHILOCRATES.) Do you
follow, that I may despatch you. I wish attention first to be paid to
that matter. (_Exeunt._

[Footnote 1: _As a wheel_)--Ver. 374. This may either mean the wheel of
a vehicle or a potter's wheel. The wheels used by the ancients revolved
on the axle, as in the carriages of modern times, and were prevented, by
pins inserted, from falling off. They consisted of naves, spokes, which
varied much in number, the felly, or wooden circumference, made of
elastic wood, such as the poplar and wild fig, and composed of several
segments united, and the tire, which was of metal. Some of their carts
and waggons had wheels made of a solid circle of wood, in shape like a
millstone, with the axle running through the middle. Similar wheels are
used in the south of Europe at the present day.]

[Footnote 2: _Unfaithful to Philocrates_)--Ver. 432. Philocrates might
very safely take an oath to Hegio, that he would not prove unfaithful to
himself.]

[Footnote 3: _Forsake your pledge_)--Ver. 441. Alluding to himself being
left behind, and a surety for his speedy return.]

[Footnote 4: _And find out_)--Ver. 446. "Atque hunc inventum inveni."
Some would render this, "And find this person still as you have found
him," making it allude to Hegio; it seems, however, rather to apply to
the son of Hegio, and to mean, "Do you seek out this person whom we have
found out to be in the possession of the physician, Menarchus."]

[Footnote 5: _What passport?_)--Ver. 454. Being conscious of the trick
which they are playing on the worthy old man, Tyndarus shows some alarm
on hearing a passport, or "syngraphus," mentioned. Commentators are at
a loss to know why he should express such alarm. It is difficult to say,
but, probably, as there was in the passport a description of the bearer,
who would be Philocrates under the name of Tyndarus, it suddenly comes
to the recollection of Tyndarus that they were originally made
prisoners under their proper names, and that possibly Philocrates may be
recognised as attempting to pass under an assumed name.]


ACT III.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ ERGASILUS.

ERG. Wretched is that man who is in search of something to eat, and
finds that with difficulty; but more wretched is he who both seeks with
difficulty, and finds nothing at all; most wretched is he, who, when he
desires to eat, has not that which he may eat. But, by my faith, if I
_only_ could, I'd willingly tear out the eyes of this day;--with such
enmity has it filled all people towards me. One more starved out I never
did see, nor one more filled with hunger [1], nor one who prospers less
in whatever he begins to do. So much do my stomach and my throat take
rest on these fasting holidays [2]. Away with the profession of a
Parasite to very utter and extreme perdition! so much in these days do
the young men drive away from them the needy drolls. They care nothing
now-a-days for _these_ Laconian men [3] of the lowest benches--these
whipping-posts, who hare their _clever_ sayings without provision and
_without_ money. They _now-a-days_ seek those who, when they've eaten
at their pleasure, may give them a return at their own houses. They go
themselves to market, which formerly was the province of the Parasites.
They go themselves from the Forum to the procurers with face as
exposed[4] as _the magistrates_ in court [5], with face exposed, condemn
those who are found guilty; nor do they now value buffoons at one
farthing [6]; all are _so much_ in love with themselves. For, when, just
now, I went away from here, I came to some young men in the Forum: "Good
morrow," said I; "whither are we going together to breakfast?" On this,
they were silent. "Who says, 'here, _at my house_,' or who makes an
offer?" said I. Just like dumb men, they were silent, and didn't smile
at me. "Where do we dine?" said I. On this they declined, said one funny
saying out of my best bon mots, by which I formerly used to get feasting
for a month; not an individual smiled; at once I knew that the matter
was arranged by concert. Not even one was willing to imitate a dog when
provoked; if they didn't laugh, they might, at least, have grinned with
their teeth [7]. From them I went away, after I saw that I was thus made
sport of. I went to some others; _then_ to some others I came; then to
some others--the same the result. All treat the matter in confederacy,
just like the oil-merchants in the Velabrum [8]. Now, I've returned
thence, since I see myself made sport of there. In like manner do other
Parasites walk to and fro, to no purpose, in the Forum. Now, after the
foreign fashion [9], I'm determined to enforce all my rights. Those
who have entered into a confederacy, by which to deprive us of food and
life,--for them I'll name a day. I'll demand, as the damages, that they
shall give me ten dinners at my own option, when provisions are dear:
thus will I do. Now I'll go hence to the harbour. There, is my only
hope of a dinner; if that shall fail me, I'll return here to the old
gentleman, to his unsavoury dinner.

[Footnote 1: _Filled with hunger_)--Ver. 471. This paradoxical
expression is similar to the one used in the Aulularia, 1. 45, "inaniis
oppletae," "filled with emptiness."]

[Footnote 2: _Fasting holidays_)--Ver. 473. He means to say, that as
on feast days and holidays people abstain from work, so at present his
teeth and stomach have no employment.]

[Footnote 3: _These Laconian men_)--Ver. 476. The Parasites, when there
was not room for them on the "triclinia," or "couches" at table, were
forced to sit on "subsellia," or "benches," at the bottom of the table.
This was like the custom of the Spartans, or Laconians, who, eschewing
the luxury of reclining, always persisted in sitting at meals. The
Spartans, also, endured pain with the greatest firmness; a virtue much
required by Parasites, in order to put up with the indignities which
they had to endure from the guests, who daubed their faces, broke pots
about their heads, and boxed their ears.]

[Footnote 4: _With face as exposed_)--Ver. 480. People, with any sense
of decency, would resort to these places either in masks, or with a hood
thrown over the face.]

[Footnote 5: _In court_)--Ver. 481. "In tribu." He alludes to the trials
which took place before the Roman people in the "Comitia Tributa," or
"assemblies of the tribes," where the Tribunes and Aediles acted as
the accusers. The offences for which persons were summoned before the
tribes, were, bad conduct of a magistrate in performance of his duties,
neglect of duty, mismanagement of a war, embezzlement of the public
money, breaches of the peace, usury, adultery, and some other crimes.
The "Comitia Tributa" were used as courts of appeal, when a person
protested against a fine imposed by a magistrate.]

[Footnote 6: _At one farthing_)--Ver. 482. Literally, "at a teruncius,"
which was a small coin among the Romans, containing three "unciae,"
"twelfth parts" or one quarter of the "as," which we generally take as
equivalent to a penny.]

[Footnote 7: _Grinned with their teeth_)--Ver. 491. That is, by showing
their teeth and grinning. This is not unlike the expression used in the
Psalms (according to the translation in our Liturgy)--Ps. lix., ver.
6--"They grin like a dog and run about through the city."]

[Footnote 8: _In the Velabrum_)--Ver. 494. The "Via Nova," or "New
Street," at Rome, led from the interior of the city to the "Velabra."
The greater and the less "Velabrum" lay between the Palatine and the
Capitoline Hills, where fruits and other commodities were sold in
booths, or under awnings, from which ("vela") the streets probably
derived their name. Varro, however, says that they were so called from
the verb "veho," "to carry;" because in early times those spots were
traversed in boats, which mode of carriage was called "velatura." From
the present passage, it appears that the oil-merchants in the "Velabra"
acted in confederacy not to sell their oils under a certain price.]

[Footnote 9: _After the foreign fashion_)--Ver. 497. Some suppose that
"barbarica lege" here means "the foreign" or "Roman law," and that he
refers to the "Lex Vinnia," introduced at Rome by Quintus Vinnius, which
was said to have been passed against those persons who confederated for
the purpose of keeping up the high prices of provisions. It is, however,
somewhat doubtful if there really was such a law; and the better opinion
seems to be that the word "lege" meant "fashion" or "custom;" and
that he refers to the Roman method of trial. He will accuse his former
entertainers of a conspiracy to starve him. He will name a day for
trial, "diem dicet;" he will demand damages or a penalty, "irrogabit
muletam;" and thus will he proceed at law against them, "sic egerit."
Rost has written at great length on the meaning of this passage.]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ HEGIO _and_ ARISTOPHONTES.

HEG. (_to himself_). What is there more delightful than to manage one's
own interests well for the public good [1], just as I did yesterday,
when I purchased these men. Every person, as they see me, comes to meet
me, and congratulates me on this matter. By thus stopping and detaining
unlucky me, they've made me _quite_ tired. With much ado have I survived
[2] from being congratulated, to my misfortune. At last, to the Praetor
did I get. There, scarcely did I rest myself. I asked for a passport; it
was given me: at once I delivered it to Tyndarus. He started for home.
Thence, straightway, after that was done, I passed by my house; _and_ I
went at once to my brother's, where my other captives are. I asked about
Philocrates from Elis, whether any one of them all knew the person.
This man (_pointing to_ ARISTOPHONTES) called out that he had been his
intimate friend; I told him that he was at my house. At once he besought
and entreated me that I would permit him to see him. Forthwith I
ordered him to be released _from chains_. Thence have I come. (_To_
ARISTOPHONTES.) Now, do you follow me, that you may obtain what you have
besought of me, the opportunity of meeting with this person. (_They go
into the house_.)

[Footnote 1: _For the public good_)--Ver. 504. It is possible that he
may here refer to his purchase of Philocrates, whose high position among
the Eleans would probably tend, on his return to his native country, to
promote peace between it and the people of Aetoiia.]

[Footnote 2: _With much ado have I survived_)--Ver. 513.
"Vox--eminebam." Literally, "I hardly kept myself above" water. He means
that he was almost overpowered by the crowds of people congratulating
him.]


SCENE III.--_Enter_ TYNDARUS, _from the house_.

TYND. Now stands the matter so, that I would much rather that I had once
existed, than that I _still_ exist; now do my hopes, my resources, and
my succour, desert me and spurn themselves. This is that day, when, for
my life, no safety can be hoped; nor _yet_ is death my end; nor hope is
there, in fact, to dispel this fear for me; nor cloak have I anywhere
for my deceitful stratagems; nor for my devices or my subterfuges is
there anywhere a screen presented to me. No deprecating _is there_
for my perfidy; no means of flight for my offences. No refuge is there
anywhere for my trusting; and no escape for my cunning schemes. What
was concealed is _now_ exposed; my plans are _now_ divulged. The whole
matter is now laid open; nor is there any ado about this matter, but
that I must perish outright, and meet with destruction, both on behalf
of my master and myself. This Aristophontes has proved my ruin, who has
just now come into the house. He knows me. He is the intimate friend
and kinsman of Philocrates. Not Salvation _herself_ [1] can save me
now, _even_ if she wishes; nor have I any means _of escape_, unless,
perchance, I devise some artifice in my mind. (_He meditates._) Plague
on it!--how? What can I contrive?--what can I think of? Some very great
folly and trifling I shall have to begin with. I'm quite at a loss. (_He
retires aside._)

[Footnote 1: _Not Salvation herself_)--Ver. 535. This was a proverbial
expression among the Romans. "Salus," "Safety" or "Salvation," was
worshipped as a Goddess at Rome. It is well observed, in Thornton's
translation, that the word "Salus" may, without irreverence, be
translated "Salvation," on no less authority than that of Archbishop
Tillotson. "If," says he, "men will continue in their sins, the
redemption brought by Christ will be of no advantage to them; such as
obstinately persist in an impenitent course," "ipsa si velit Salus,
servare non potest." "Salvation itself cannot save them."]


SCENE IV.--_Enter_ HEGIO, ARISTOPHONTES, _and_ SLAVES, _from the house._

HEG. Whither am I to say, now, that that man has betaken himself from
the house out of doors?

TYND. (_apart_). Now, for a very certainty, I'm done for; the enemies
are coming to you, Tyndarus! What shall I say?--what shall I talk
of? What shall I deny, or what confess? All matters are reduced to
uncertainty. How shall I place confidence in my resources? I wish
the Gods had destroyed you, before you were lost to your own country,
Aristophontes, who, from a plot well concerted, are making it
disconcerted. This plan is ruined, outright, unless I find out for
myself some extremely bold device.

HEG. (_to_ ARISTOPHONTES). Follow me. See, there is the man; go to him
and address him.

TYND. (_aside, and turning away_). What mortal among mortals is there
more wretched than myself?

ARIST. (_coming up to him_). Why's this, that I'm to say that you are
avoiding my gaze, Tyndarus? And _why_ that you are slighting me as a
stranger, as though you had never known me? Why, I'm as much a slave
as yourself; although at home I was a free man, you, even from your
childhood, have always served in slavery in Elia.

HEG. I' faith, I'm very little surprised, if either he does avoid your
gaze, or if he does shun you, who are calling him Tyndarus, instead of
Philocrates.

TYND. Hegio, this person was accounted a madman in Elis. Don't you give
ear to what he prates about; for at home he has pursued his father and
mother with spears, and that malady sometimes comes upon him which is
spit out [1]. Do you this instant stand away at a distance from him.

HEG. (_to _the SLAVES). Away with him further off from me.

ARIST. Do you say, you whipp'd knave, that I am mad, and do you declare
that I have followed my own father with spears? And that I have that
malady, that it's necessary for me to be spit upon [2]?

HEG. Don't be dismayed; that malady afflicts many a person to whom it
has proved wholesome to be spit upon, and has been of service to them.

ARIST. Why, what do you say? Do you, too, credit him?

HEG. Credit him in what? ARIST. That I am mad?

TYND. Do you see him, with what a furious aspect he's looking at you?
'Twere best to retire, Hegio; it is as I said, his frenzy grows apace;
have a care for yourself.

HEG. I thought that he was mad, the moment that he called you Tyndarus.

TYND. Why, he's sometimes ignorant of his own name and doesn't know what
it is.

HEG. But he even said that you were his intimate friend.

TYND. So far from that, I never saw him. Why, really, Alcmaeon, and
Orestes, and Lycurgus [3] besides, are my friends on the same principle
that he is.

ARIST. Villain, and do you dare speak ill of me, as well? Do I not know
you?

HEG. I' faith, it really is very clear that you don't know him, who are
calling him Tyndarus, instead of Philocrates Him whom you see, you don't
know; you are addressing him as the person whom you don't see.

ARIST. On the contrary this fellow's saying that he is the person who he
is not; and he says that he is not the person who he really is.

TYND. You've been found, of course, to excel Philocrates in
truthfulness.

ARIST. By my troth, as I understand the matter, you've been found to
brazen out the truth by lying. But i' faith, prithee, come then, look at
me.

TYND. (_looking at him_). Well! ARIST. Say, now; do you deny that you
are Tyndarus?

TYND. I do deny it, I say.

ARIST. Do you say that you are Philocrates?

TYND. I do say so, I say.

ARIST. (_to_ HEGIO). And do you believe him?

HEG. More, indeed, than either you or myself. For he, in fact, who you
say that he is (_pointing to_ TYNDARUS), has set out hence to-day for
Elis, to this person's father.

ARIST. What father, when he's a slave. [4]

TYND. And so are you a slave, and _yet_ you were a free man; and I trust
that so I shall be, if I restore his son here to liberty.

ARIST. How say you, villain? Do you say that you were born a free man
[liber]?

TYND. I really do not say that I am Liber [5], but that I am
Philocrates.

ARIST. How's this? How this scoundrel, Hegio, is making sport of you
now. For he's a slave himself, and never, except his own self, had he a
slave.

TYND. Because you yourself are destitute in your own country, and
haven't whereon to live at home, you wish all to be found like to
yourself; you don't do anything surprising. 'Tis _the nature_ of the
distressed to be ill-disposed, and to envy the fortunate.

ARIST. Hegio, take you care, please, that you don't persist in rashly
placing confidence in this man; for so far as I see, he is certainly now
putting some device in execution, in saying that he is redeeming your
son _from captivity_; that is by no means satisfactory to me.

TYND. I know that you don't wish that to be done; still I shall effect
it, if the Gods assist me. I shall bring him back here, _and_ he _will
restore_ me to my father, in Elis. For that purpose have I sent Tyndarus
hence to my father.

ARIST. Why, you yourself are he; nor is there any slave in Elis of that
name, except yourself.

TYND. Do you persist in reproaching me with being a slave--a thing that
has befallen me through the fortune of war?

ARIST. Really, now, I cannot contain myself.

TYND. (_to_ HEGIO). Ha! don't you hear him? Why don't you take to
flight? He'll be pelting us just now with stones there, unless you order
him to be seized.

ARIST. I'm distracted. TYND. His eyes strike fire; there's need of a
rope, Hegio. Don't you see how his body is spotted all over with livid
spots? Black bile [6] is disordering the man.

ARIST. And, by my faith, if this old gentleman is wise, black pitch [7]
will be disordering you with the executioner, and giving a light to your
head.

TYND. He's now talking in his fit of delirium; sprites are in possession
of the man.

HEG. By my troth, suppose I order him to be seized?

TYND. You would be acting more wisely.

ARIST. I'm vexed that I haven't a stone, to knock out the brains of that
whip-scoundrel, who's driving mo to madness by his taunts.

TYND. Don't you hear that he's looking for a stone?

ARIST. I wish to speak with you alone, separately, Hegio.

HEG. Speak from where you are, if you want anything; though at a
distance, I shall hear you.

TYND. _Yes_, for, by my faith, if you approach nearer, he'll to taking
your nose off with his teeth.

ARIST. By heavens, Hegio, don't you believe that I am mad, or that I
ever was _so_, or that I have the malady which that fellow avers. But if
you fear anything from me, order me to be bound: I wish it, so long as
that fellow is bound as well.

TYND. Why really, Hegio, rather let him be bound that wishes it.

ARIST. Now hold your tongue! I'll make you, _you_ false Philocrates, to
be found out this day _to be_ a real Tyndarus. Why are you making signs
[8] at me?

TYND. I, making signs at you? (_To_ HEGIO.) What would he do, if you
were at a greater distance off?

HEG. What do you say? What if I approach this madman?

TYND. Nonsense; you'll be made a fool of; he'll be prating _stuff_, to
you, neither the feet nor the head of which will ever be visible.
The dress _only_ [9] is wanting; in seeing this man, you behold Ajax
himself.

HEG. I don't care; still I'll approach him. (_Advances to_
ARISTOPHONTES.)

TYND. (_aside_). Now am I utterly undone; now between the sacrifice and
the stone [10] do I stand, nor know I what to do.

HEG. I lend you my attention, Aristophontes, if there is anything that
you would wish with me.

ARIST. From me you shall hear _that_ truth, which now you think to be
false, Hegio. But I wish, in the first place, to clear myself from this
with you--that madness does not possess me, and that I have no malady,
except that I am in captivity; and, so may the King of Gods and of
men make me to regain my native land, that fellow there is no more
Philocrates than either I or you.

HEG. Come, then, tell me who he is?

ARIST. He whom I've told you all along from the beginning. If you shall
find him any other than that person, I show no cause why I shouldn't
suffer the loss with you both of my parents and of my liberty _for
ever_.

HEG. (_to_ TYNDARUS). What say you _to this_?

TYND. That I am your slave, and you my master.

HEG. I didn't ask that--were you a free man?

TYND. I was. ARIST. But he really wasn't; he is deceiving you.

TYND. How do you know? Were you, perchance, the midwife of my mother,
since you dare to affirm this so boldly?

ARIST. When a boy, I saw yourself, a boy.

TYND. But, grown up, I _now_ see you grown up; so, there's for you, in
return. If you did right, you wouldn't be troubling yourself about my
concerns; do I trouble myself about yours?

HEG. Was his father _called_ Thesaurochrysonicocroesides?

ARIST. He was not; and I never heard that name before this day.
Theodoromedes was the father of Philocrates.

TYND. (_aside_). I'm downright undone. Why don't you be quiet, heart
of mine? Go and be stretched, and hang yourself; you are throbbing _so,
that_ unfortunate I can hardly stand up for _my_ fear.

HEG. Is a full assurance given me that this was a slave in Elis, and
that he is not Philocrates?

ARIST. So fully, that you will never find this to be otherwise; but
where is he [11] now?

HEG. Where I the least, and he the most could wish himself. In
consequence, then, I'm cut asunder, [12] disjointed, to my sorrow, by
the devices of this scoundrel, who has bamboozled me by his tricks just
as he has thought fit. But do, please, have a care _that you are right_.

ARIST. Why, I assure you of this, _as_ an ascertained and established
fact.

HEG. For certain? ARIST. Why, nothing, I say, will you find more certain
than this certainty. Philocrates, from when a boy, has ever since that
time been my friend.

HEG. But of what appearance is your friend Philocrates?

ARIST. I'll tell you: with a thin face, sharp nose, light hair, dark
eyes, somewhat ruddy, with hair rather crisp and curling.

HEG. _The description_ is like. TYND. (_aside_). _Aye_, so much so,
indeed, that I've this day, much to my sorrow, got into the midst of
this, i' faith. Woe to those unfortunate rods, which this day will be
meeting their end upon my back.

HEG. I see that I've been imposed upon.

TYND. (_aside_). Why, fetters, do you delay to run towards me and to
embrace my legs that I may have you in custody?

HEG. And have these _two_ rascally captives really deceived me this day
with their tricks? the other one pretended that he was the servant
and this one that he himself was the master. I've lost a kernal; for a
security, I've left the shell. To such a degree have they imposed upon
me, [13] both on this side and that, with their trickeries. Still, this
fellow shall never have the laugh against me. Colaphus, Cordalio, Corax
[14] (_to the_ SLAVES), go you away and bring out the thongs.

SLAVE. Are we to be sent to gather faggots [15]? (_The _SLAVES _go and
bring the thongs from the house_.)

[Footnote 1: _Which is spit out_)--Ver. 566. Some would render the
words "qui sputatur," "which is spit upon," and fancy that they find
authorities in the ancient writers for thinking that epilepsy was
treated by spitting upon the patient. However, it seems much more
probable, that the notion was that epilepsy was cured by the patient
himself spitting out the noxious saliva; and that the word "sputatur"
means, "is spit out," _i. e._ "is cured by spitting." Celsus thus
describes the "comitialis morbus," "epilepsy," or "falling sickness:
The person seized, suddenly falls down; foam drops from the mouth;
then, after a little time, he comes to himself, and gets up again
without any assistance." Pliny, in his Natural History, B. 38, c. 4,
says: "Despuimus comitiales morbos, hoc est, contagia regerimus," "We
spit out the epilepsy, that is, we avert the contagion." This is said,
probably, in reference to a belief, that on seeing an epileptic person,
if we spit, we shall avoid the contagion; but it by no means follows
that the person so doing must spit upon the epileptic person. We read
in the first Book of Samuel, ch. xxi., ver. 12: "And David laid up these
words in his heart, and was sore afraid of Achish, the King of Gath. And
he changed his behaviour before them, and feigned himself mad in their
hands, and scrabbled on the doors of the gate, and let his spittle fall
down on his beard." He probably pretended to be attacked with epileptic
fits. In fact, after due examination, there seems little doubt that it
was a common notion with the ancients that the distemper was discharged
with the saliva.]

[Footnote 2: _To be spit upon_)--Ver. 569. Aristophontes has understood
the words, "qua spitatur," in the sense of "which is spit upon," and
asks Tyndarus if he affirms that he is afflicted with a disease which
requires such treatment. Hegio, to pacify him, and to show off his
medical knowledge, tells him that it has proved beneficial in some
diseases to be so treated; but he does not go so far as to say what
those diseases were. One malady, called "herpes," or "spreading
ulcer," was said to be highly contagions, but capable of being cured by
applications of saliva. Some Commentators here quote the method which
our Saviour adopted in curing the blind man at Bethsaida: "And he took
the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the town: and when he
had spat on his eyes and put his hands upon him, he asked him if he saw
aught." St. Mark, ch. viii., ver. 23. And again, the account given in
the ninth chapter of St. John, ver. 6: "When he had thus spoken, he spat
on the ground, and made clay of the spittle, and he anointed the eyes
of the blind man with the clay." It may be possible that our Saviour
thought fit to adopt these forms, in imitation of some of the methods
of treating diseases in those times; though, of course, his transcendent
power did not require their agency. Rost, in his Commentaries on
Plautus, has very learned disquisition on the meaning of the present
passage.]

[Footnote 3: _Alcmaeon, and Orestes, and Lycurgus_)--Ver. 568. He
alludes to these three persons as being three of the most celebrated men
of antiquity that were attacked with frenzy. Orestes slew his mother,
Clytemnestra; Alcmaeon killed his mother, Eriphyle; and Lycurgus, King
of Thrace, on slighting the worship of Bacchus, was afflicted with
madness, in a fit of which he hewed off his own legs with a hatchet.]

[Footnote 4: _When he's a slave_)--Ver. 580. Slaves were not considered
to have any legal existence; and, therefore, to have neither parents or
relations.]

[Footnote 5: _That I am Liber_)--Ver. 584. Aristophontes asks him if
he means to assert that he was born a free man, "liber." As "Liber" was
also a name of Bacchus, Tyndarus quibbles, and says, "I did not assert
that I am Liber, but that I am Philocrates." In consequence of the
idiom of the Latin language, his answer (non equidem me Liberam, sed
Philocratem esse aio) will admit of another quibble, and may be read as
meaning, "I did not say that I am a free man, but that Philocrates
is." This maybe readily seen by the Latin scholar, but is not so easily
explained to the English reader]

[Footnote 6: _Black bile_)--Ver. 602. A superabundance of the bile was
supposed to be productive of melancholy madness. The word "melancholy"
is from the Greek [Greek: melangcholia], "black bile."]

[Footnote 7: _Black pitch_)--Ver. 603. He alludes to a frightful
punishment inflicted upon malefactors by the Romans. They were either
smeared over with burning pitch, or were first covered with pitch, which
was then set fire to. This punishment is supposed to have been often
inflicted upon the early Christians. Juvena alludes to it in his First
Satire, I. 155:

  Pone Tigellinum, taeda lucebis in illa,
  Qua stantes ardent, qui fixo gutture fumant.

Describe Tigellinus [an infamous minister of Nero], and yon shall give
a light by those torches, in which those stand and burn who send forth
smoke with a stake driven into their throat."]

[Footnote 8: _Why are you making signs_)--Ver. 617. "Abnutas." The verb
"abnuto" means, "to nod to a person that he may desist." Tyndarus thinks
that by this time Aristophontes must surely understand the plan that has
been devised for the escape of Philocrates; and, as he is about to step
aside to speak with Hegio, he makes a sign, requesting him to stop short
in his contradiction of what he has asserted.]

[Footnote 9: _The dress only_)--Ver. 620. By "ornamenta" he means the
dress of Tragedy. The dresses of Comedy were essentially different from
those of Tragedy. He means to say, "the man is mad; if he had only the
Tragic garb on, you might take him for Ajax Telamon in his frenzy." On
being refused the arms of Achilles, Ajax became mad, and slaughtered a
flock of sheep fancying that they were Ulysses and the sons of Atreus.]

[Footnote 10: _The sacrifice and the stone_)--Ver. 624. We learn from
Livy, that in the most ancient times the animal for sacrifice was killed
by being struck with a stone; to stand between the victim and the stone,
would consequently imply, to be in a position of extreme danger.]

[Footnote 11: _But where is he_)--Ver. 645. Tyndarus has probably
betaken himself to some corner of the stage, and Aristophontes misses
him from his former position.]

[Footnote 12: _Cut asunder_)--Ver. 646. "Deruncinatus" means, literally,
cut asunder with a "runcina," or "saw."]

[Footnote 13: _Have they imposed upon me_)--Ver. 661. "Os sublevere
offuciis." Literally "painted my face with varnish." This expression is
probably derived from the practice of persons concealing their defects,
by painting over spots or freckles in the face for the purpose of hiding
them.]

[Footnote 14: _Colaphus, Cordalio, Corax_)--Ver. 662. These are the
names of slaves. "Colaphus" means, also, "a blow with the fist." "Corax"
was the Greek name for a "crow," and was probably given to a black
slave.]

[Footnote 15: _To gather faggots_)--Ver. 663. He asks this question
because cords, "lora," were necessary for the purpose of binding up
faggots.]


SCENE V.--HEGIO, TYNDARUS, ARISTOPHONTES, _and_ SLAVES.

HEG. (_to the _SLAVES). Put the manacles on this whipp'd villain.

TYND. (_whilst the_ SLAVES _are fastening him_). What's the matter? What
have I done wrong?

HEG. Do you ask the question? You weeder and sower of villanies, and in
especial their reaper.

TYND. Ought you not to have ventured to say the harrower first? For
countrymen always harrow before they weed.

HEG. Why, with what assurance he stands before me.

TYND. It's proper for a servant, innocent and guiltless, to be full of
confidence, most especially before his master.

HEG. (_to the _SLATES). Bind this fellow's hands tightly, will you.

TYND. I am your own--do you command them to be cut off even. But what is
the matter on account of which you blame me?

HEG. Because me and my fortunes, so far as in you singly lay, by your
rascally _and_ knavish stratagems you have rent in pieces, and have
districted my affairs and spoiled all my resources and my plans, _in
that_ you've thus robbed me of Philocrates by your devices. I thought
that he was the slave, you the free man. So did you say yourselves, and
in this way did you change names between you.

TYND. I confess that all was done so, as you say, and that by a
stratagem he has got away from you, through my aid and cleverness; and
prithee, now, do you blame me for that, i' faith?

HEG. Why, it has been done with your extreme torture _for the
consequence_.

TYND. So I don't die by reason of my misdeeds, I care but little. If I
do die here, then he returns not, as he said _he would_; but when I'm
dead, this act will be remembered to my honor, that I caused my captive
master to return from slavery and the foe, a free man, to his father in
his native land; and that I preferred rather to expose my own life to
peril, than that he should be undone.

HEG. Take care, then, to enjoy that fame at Acheron.

TYND. He who dies for virtue's sake, still does not perish.

HEG. When I've tortured you in the most severe manner, and for your
schemes put you to death, let them say either that you have perished or
that you have died; so long as you do die, I don't think it matters if
they say you live.

TYND. I' faith, if you do do so, you'll do it not without retribution,
if he shall return here, as I trust that he will return.

ARIST. (_aside_). O ye immortal Gods! I understand it now; now I know
what the case _really_ is. My friend Philocrates is at liberty with his
father, in his native land. 'Tis well; nor have I any person to whom I
could so readily wish well. But this thing grieves me, that I've done
this person a bad turn, who now on account of me and my talking is in
chains.

HEG. (_to_ TYNDARUS). Did I not forbid you this day to utter anything
false to me?

TYND. You did forbid me. HEG. Why did you dare to tell me lies?

TYND. Because the truth would have prejudiced him whom I was serving;
now falsehood has advantaged him.

HEG. But it will prejudice yourself.

TYND. 'Tis very good. Still, I have saved my master, whom I rejoice at
being saved, to whom my elder master had assigned me as a protector. But
do you think that this was wrongly done?

HEG. Most wrongfully. TYND. But I, who disagree with you, say, rightly.
For consider, if any slave of yours had done this for your son, what
thanks you would have given him. Would you have given that slave his
freedom or not? Would not that slave have been in highest esteem with
you? Answer me _that._

HEG. I think so. TYND. Why, then, are you angry with me?

HEG. Because you have proved more faithful to him than to myself.

TYND. How now? Did you expect, in a single night and day, for yourself
to teach _me_--a person just made captive, a recent _slave, and_ in his
noviciate--that I should rather consult your interest than his, with
whom from childhood I have passed my life?

HEG. Seek, then, thanks from him for that. (_To the_ SLAVES.) Take him
where he may receive weighty and thick fetters, thence, after that, you
shall go to the quarries for cutting stone. There, while the others are
digging out eight stones, unless you daily do half as much work again,
you shall have the name of the six-hundred-stripe man [1].

ARIST. By Gods and men, I do entreat you, Hegio, not to destroy this
man.

HEG. He shall be taken all care of [2]. For at night, fastened with
chains, he shall be watched; in the daytime, beneath the ground, he
shall be getting out stone. For many a day will I torture him; I'll not
respite him for a single day.

ARIST. Is that settled by you? HEG. Not more settled that I shall
die. (_To the_ SLAVES.) Take him away this instant to Hippolytus, the
blacksmith; bid thick fetters to be rivetted on him. From there let him
be led outside the gate to my freedman, Cordalus, at the stone-quarries.
And tell him that I desire this man so to be treated, that he mayn't be
in any respect worse off than he who is the most severely treated.

TYND. Why, since you are unwilling, do I desire myself to survive? At
your own hazard is the risk of my life. After death, no evil have I to
apprehend in death. Though I should live even to extreme age, still,
short is the space for enduring what you threaten me with. Farewell
and prosper; although you are deserving for me to say otherwise. You,
Aristophontes, as you have deserved of me, so fare you; for on your
account has this befallen me.

HEG. (_to the_ SLAVES). Carry him off.

TYND. But this one thing I beg, that, if Philocrates should come back
here, you will give me an opportunity of meeting him.

HEG. (_to the_ SLAVES). At your peril, if you don't this instant remove
him from my sight. (_The_ SLAVES _lay hold of_ TYNDARUS, _and push him
along._)

TYND. I' troth, this really is violence [3], to be both dragged and
pushed at the same time. (_He is borne off by the_ SLAVES.)

[Footnote 1: _Six-hundred-stripe man_)--Ver. 731. "Sexcentoplago." This
is a compound word, coined by the author.]

[Footnote 2: _He shall be taken all care of_)--Ver. 733. Struck with
admiration at his fidelity, Aristophontes begs Hegio not to destroy
Tyndarus. As the verb "perduis" might also mean "lose" him, Hegio
ironically takes it in the latter sense, and says that there is no
fear of that, for he shall be well taken care of; or, in other words,
strictly watched.]

[Footnote 3: _This really is violence_)--Ver. 755. According to
Suetonius, Julius Caesar used an exactly similar expression when first
attacked by his murderers in the senate-house. On Tullius Cimber seizing
bold of his garments he exclaimed, "Ita quidem vis est!" "Why, really,
this is violence!"]


SCENE VI.--HEGIO _and_ ARISTOPHONTUS.

HEG. He has been led off straight to prison [1], as he deserves. Let no
one presume to attempt such an enterprise. Had it not been for you who
discovered this to me, still would they have been leading me by the
bridle with their tricks. Now am I resolved henceforth never to trust
any person in anything. This once I have been deceived enough; I did
hope, to my sorrow, that I had rescued my son from slavery. That hope
has forsaken me. I lost one son, whom, a child in his fourth year, a
slave stole from me; and, indeed, never since have I found either slave
or son; the elder one has fallen in the hands of the enemy. What guilt
is this _of mine_? As though I had become the father of children for the
purpose of being childless. (_To_ ARISTOPHONTES.) Follow this way. I'll
conduct you back where you were. I'm determined to have pity upon no
one, since no one has pity upon me.

ARIST. Forth from my chains with evil omen did I come; now I perceive
that with like ill omen to my bonds I must return. (_Exeunt._

[Footnote 1: _To prison_)--Ver. 756. "Phylacam." This is a Greek word
Latinized, meaning "prison" or "confinement."]


ACT IV.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ ERGASILUS. [1]

ERG. Supreme Jove! thou dost preserve me, and dost augment my means.
Plenty, extreme and sumptuous, dost thou present to me; celebrity,
profit, enjoyment, mirth, festivity, holidays, sights, provisions,
carousings, abundance, joyousness. And to no man have I now determined
with myself to go a-begging; for I'm able either to profit my friend
or to destroy my enemy, to such extent has this delightful day heaped
delights upon me in its delightfulness. I have lighted upon a most rich
inheritance without incumbrances [2]. Now will I wend my way to this old
gentleman Hegio, to whom I am carrying blessings as great as he
himself prays for from the Gods, and even greater. Now, this is my
determination, in the same fashion that the slaves of Comedy [3] _are
wont_, so will I throw my cloak around my neck, that from me, the first
_of all_, he may learn this matter. And I trust that I, by reason of
this news, shall find provision up to the end.

[Footnote 1: _Ergasilus_) He has just come from the harbour, where he
has seen the son of Hegio, together with Philocrates and Stalagmus,
landing from the packet-boat. Now, as he speaks still of his intended
dinner with Hegio, to which he had been invited in the earlier part of
the Play, we must conclude, that since then, Philocrates has taken ship
from the coast of Aetolia, arrived in Elis, procured the liberation of
Philopolemus, and returned with him, all in the space of a few hours.
This, however, although the coast of Elis was only about fifteen miles
from that of Aetolia, is not at all consistent with probability; and
the author has been much censured by some Commentators, especially by
Lessing, on account of his negligence It must, however, be remembered,
that Plautus was writing for a Roman audience, the greater part of whom
did not know whether Elis was one mile or one hundred from the coast
of Aetolia. We may suppose, too, that Philopolemus had already caused
Stalagmus, the runaway slave, to be apprehended before the arrival of
Philocrates in Elis.]

[Footnote 2: _An inheritance without incumbrance_)--Ver. 780. "Sine
sacra hereditas." The meaning of this expression has been explained in
the Notes to the Trinummus, 484.]

[Footnote 3: _Slaves of Comedy_)--Ver. 783. This was done that, when
expedition was required, the cloak might not prove an obstruction to the
wearer as he walked. The slaves in Comedies usually wore the "pallium,"
and as they were mostly active, bustling fellows, would have it tucked
tightly around them. The "pallium" was usually worn passed over the left
shoulder, then drawn behind the back, and under the left arm, leaving it
bare, and then thrown again over the left shoulder.]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ HEGIO, _at a distance._

HEG. (_to himself_). The more that I revolve this matter in my breast,
the more is my uneasiness of mind increased. That I should have been
duped in this fashion to-day! and that I wasn't able to see through it!
When this shall be known, then I shall be laughed at all over the city.
The very moment that I shall have reached the Forum, all will be saying,
"This is that clever old gentleman, who had the trick played him." But
is this Ergasilus, that I see coming at a distance? Surely he has got
his cloak gathered up; what, I wonder, is he going to do?

ERG. (_advancing, and talking to himself_). Throw aside from you all
tardiness, Ergasilus, and speed on this business. I threaten, and I
strictly charge no person to stand in my way, unless any one shall be of
opinion that he has lived long enough. For whoever does come in my
way, shall stop me upon his face. (_He runs along, flourishing his arms
about._)

HEG. (_to himself_). This fellow's beginning to box.

ERG. (_to himself_). I'm determined to do it; so that every one may
pursue his own path, let no one be bringing any of his business in this
street; for my fist is a balista, my arm is my catapulta, my shoulder a
battering-ram; then against whomsoever I dart my knee, I shall bring him
to the ground. I'll make all persons to be picking up their teeth [1],
whomsoever I shall meet with.

HEG. (_to himself_). What threatening is this? For I cannot wonder
enough.

ERG. I'll make him always to remember this day and place, and myself _as
well_. Whoever stops me upon my road, I'll make him put a stop to his
own existence.

HEG. (_to himself_). What great thing is this fellow preparing to do,
with such mighty threats?

ERG. I first give notice, that no one, by reason of his own fault, may
be caught--keep yourselves in-doors at home, _and_ guard yourselves from
my attack.

HEG. (_to himself_). By my faith, 'tis strange if he hasn't got this
boldness by means of his stomach. Woe to that wretched man, through
whose cheer this fellow has become quite swaggering.

ERG. Then the bakers, that feed swine, that fatten their pigs upon
refuse bran, through the stench of which no one can pass by a baker's
shop; if I see the pig of any one of them in the public _way_, I'll beat
the bran out of the masters' themselves with my fists.

HEG. (_to himself_). Royal and imperial edicts does he give out. The
fellow is full; he certainly has his boldness from his stomach.

ERG. Then the fishmongers, who supply stinking fish to the public--who
are carried about on a gelding, with his galloping galling pace [2]--the
stench of whom drives all the loungers in the Basilica [3] into the
Forum, I'll bang their heads with their bulrush fish-baskets, that they
may understand what annoyance they cause to the noses of other people.
And then the butchers, as well, who render the sheep destitute of their
young--who agree with you about killing lamb [4], and then offer you
lamb at double the price--who give the name of wether _mutton_ to a
ram--if I should _only_ see that ram in the public way, I'll make both
ram and owner most miserable beings.

HEG. (_to himself_). Well done! He really does give out edicts fit for
an Aedile, and 'tis indeed a surprising thing if the Aetolians haven't
made him inspector of markets [5].

ERG. No Parasite now am I, but a right royal king of kings; so large a
stock of provision for my stomach is there at hand in the harbour. But
_why_ delay to overwhelm this old gentleman Hegio with gladness? With
him, not a person among mankind exists equally fortunate.

HEG. (_apart_). What joy is this, that he, _thus_ joyous, is going to
impart to me?

ERG. (_knocking at _HEGIO'S_ door_). Hallo, hallo!--where are you? Is
any one coming to open this door?

HEG. (_apart_). This fellow's betaking himself to my house to dine.

ERG. Open you both these doors [6], before I shall with knocking cause
the destruction, piecemeal, of the doors.

HEG. (_apart_). I'd like much to address the fellow. (_Aloud._)
Ergasilus!

ERG. Who's calling Ergasilus?

HEG. _Turn round, and_ look at me.

ERG. (_not seeing who it is_). A thing that Fortune does not do for you,
nor _ever_ will do, you bid me _to do_. But who is it.

HEG. Look round at me. 'Tis Hegio.

ERG. (_turning round_). O me! Best of the very best of men, as many as
exist, you have arrived opportunely.

HEG. You've met with some one at the harbour to dine with; through that
you are elevated.

ERG. Give me your hand. HEG. My hand?

ERG. Give me your hand, I say, this instant.

HEG. Take it. (_Giving him his hand._)

ERG. Rejoice. HEG. Why should I rejoice?

ERG. Because I bid you; come now, rejoice.

HEG. I' faith, my sorrows exceed my rejoicings.

ERG. 'Tis not so, _as_ you shall find; I'll at once drive away every
spot of sorrow [7] from your body. Rejoice without restraint.

HEG. I do rejoice, although I don't at all know why I should rejoice.

ERG. You do rightly; _now_ order--HEG. Order what?

ERG. A large fire to be made.

HEG. A large fire? ERG. So I say, that a huge one it must be.

HEG. What, you vulture, do you suppose that for your sake I'm going to
set my house on fire?

ERG. Don't be angry. Will you order, or will you not order, the pots
to be put on, _and_ the saucepans to be washed out, the bacon and the
dainties to be made warm in the heated cooking-stoves, another one,
_too_, to go purchase the fish?

HEG. This fellow's dreaming while awake.

ERG. Another to buy pork, and lamb, and pullets.

HEG. You understand how to feed well, if you had the means.

ERG. Gammons of bacon, _too_, and lampreys, spring pickled tunny-fish,
mackerel, and sting-ray; large fish, too, and soft cheese.

HEG. You will have more opportunity, Ergasilus, here at my house, of
talking about these things than of eating them.

ERG. Do you suppose that I'm saying this on my own account?

HEG. You will neither be eating nothing here to-day, nor yet much more
_than usual, so_ don't you be mistaken. Do you then bring an appetite to
my house for your every-day fare.

ERG. Why, I'll so manage it, that you yourself shall wish to be profuse,
though I myself should desire you not.

HEG. What, I? ERG. Yes, you.

HEG. Then you are my master. ERG. Yes, _and_ a kindly disposed one. Do
you wish me to make you happy?

HEG. Certainly I would, rather than miserable.

ERG. Give me your hand. HEG. (_extending his hand_) Here is my hand.

ERG. All the Gods are blessing you.

HEG. I don't feel it so. ERG. Why, you are not in a quickset hedge,[8]
therefore you don't feel it; but order the vessels, in a clean state, to
be got for you forthwith in readiness for the sacrifice, and one lamb to
be brought here with all haste, a fat one.

HEG. Why? ERG. That you may offer sacrifice.

HEG. To which one of the Gods?

ERG. To myself, i' faith, for now am I your supreme Jupiter. I likewise
am your salvation, your fortune, your life, your delight, your joy. Do
you at once, then, make this Divinity propitious to you by cramming him.

HEU. You seem to me to be hungry.

ERG. For myself am I hungry, _and_ not for you.

HEG. I readily allow of it at your own good will.

ERG. I believe you; from a boy you were in the habit--[9]

HEG. May Jupiter and the Gods confound you.

ERG. I' troth, 'tis fair that for my news you should return me thanks;
such great happiness do I now bring you from the harbour.

HEG. Now you are flattering me. Begone, you simpleton; you have arrived
behind time, too late.

ERG. If I had come sooner, then for that reason you might rather have
said that. Now, receive this joyous _news_ of me which I bring _you_;
for at the harbour I just now saw your son Philopolemus in the common
fly-boat, alive, safe and sound, and likewise there that other young man
together with him, and Stalagmus your slave, who fled from your house,
who stole from you your little son, the child of four years old.

HEG. Away with you to utter perdition! You are trifling with me

ERG. So may holy Gluttony [10] love me, Hegio, and so may she ever
dignify me with her name, I did see--

HEG. My son? ERG. Your son, and my _good_ Genius.

HEG. That Elean captive, too?

ERG. Yes, by Apollo. [11]

HEG. The slave, too? My _slave_ Stalagmus, he that stole my son--?

ERG. Yes, by Cora HEG. So long a time ago?

ERG. Yes, by Praeneste! HEG. Is he arrived?

ERG. Yes, by Signia! HEG. For sure?

ERG. Yes, by Phrysinone! HEG. Have a care, if you please.

ERG. Yes, by Alatrium! HEG. Why are you swearing by foreign cities?

ERG. Why, because they are just as disagreable as you were declaring
your fare to be.

HEG. Woe be to you! ERG. Because that you don't believe me at all in
what I say in sober earnestness. But of what country was Stalagmus, at
the time when he departed hence?

HEG. A Sicilian. ERG. But now he is not a Sicilian--he is a Boian; he
has got a Boian woman [12]. A wife, I suppose, has been given to him for
the sake of obtaining children.

HEG. Tell me, have you said these words to me in good earnest?

ERG. In good _earnest_. HEG. Immortal Gods, I seem to be born again, if
you are telling the truth.

ERG. Do you say so? Will you still entertain doubts, when I have
solemnly sworn to you? In fine, Hegio, if you have little confidence in
my oath, go yourself to the harbour and see.

HEG. I'm determined to do so. Do you arrange in-doors what's requisite.
Use, ask for, take _from my larder_ what you like; I appoint you
cellarman.

ERG. Now, by my troth, if I have not prophesied truly to you, do you
comb me out with a cudgel.

HEG. I'll find you in victuals to the end, if you are telling me the
truth.

ERG. Whence _shall_ it _be_? HEG. From myself and from my son.

ERG. Do you promise that? HEG. I do promise it.

ERG. But I, in return, promise [13] you that your son has arrived.

HEG. Manage as well as ever you can.

ERG. A happy walk _there_ to you, and _a happy_ walk back.

(_Exit_ HEGIO.

[Footnote 1: _To be picking up their teeth_)--Ver. 803. "Dentilegos." He
says that he will knock their teeth out, and so make them pick them up
from the ground. We must suppose that while he is thus hurrying on, he
is walking up one of the long streets which were represented as emerging
on the Roman stage, opposite to the audience.]

[Footnote 2: _Galling pace_)--Ver. 819. "Crucianti" may mean either
"tormenting" the spectator by reason of the slowness of its pace, or
galling to the rider. "Quadrupedanti crucianti cauterio" is a phrase,
both in sound and meaning, much resembling what our song-books call the
"galloping dreary dun."]

[Footnote 3: _In the Basilica_)--Ver. 820. The "Basilica" was a building
which served as a court of law, and a place of meeting for merchants
and men of business. The name was perhaps derived from the Greek word
_Basileus_, as the title of the second Athenian Archon, who had his
tribunal or court of justice. The building was probably, in its original
form, an insulated portico. The first edifice of this kind at Rome was
erected B.C. 184; probably about the period when this Play was composed.
It was situate in the Forum, and was built by Porcius Cato, from whom it
was called the "Porcian Basilica." Twenty others were afterwards erected
at different periods in the city. The loungers here mentioned, in the
present instance, were probably sauntering about under the porticos of
the Basilica, when their olfactory nerves were offended by the unsavoury
smell of the fishermen's baskets.]

[Footnote 4: _About killing lamb_)--Ver. 824. In these lines he seems
to accuse the butchers of three faults--cruelty, knavery, and extortion.
The general reading is "duplam," but Rost suggests "dupla," "at double
the price." If "duplam" is retained, might it not possibly mean that the
butchers agree to kill lamb for you, and bring to you "duplam agninam,"
"double lamb," or, in other words, lamb twice as old as it ought to be?
No doubt there was some particular age at which lamb, in the estimation
of Ergasilus and his brother-epicures, was considered to be in its
greatest perfection.]

[Footnote 5: _Inspector of markets_)--Ver. 829. "Agoranomum." The
Aediles were the inspectors of markets at Rome, while the "Agoranomi"
had a similar office in the Grecian cities.]

[Footnote 6: _Both these doors_)--Ver. 836. The street-doors of the
ancients were generally "bivalve," or "folding-doors."]

[Footnote 7: Every spot of sorrow )--Ver. 846. He alludes, figuratively,
to the art of the fuller or scourer, in taking the spots out of soiled
garments.]

[Footnote 8: _In a quickset hedge_)--Ver. 865. Here is a most wretched
attempt at wit, which cannot be expressed in a literal translation.
Hegio says, "Nihil sentio," "I don't feel it." Ergasilus plays upon
the resemblance of the verb "sentio" to "sentis" and "senticetum," a
"bramble-bush" or "quickset hedge;" and says, 'You don't feel it so,"
"non sentis," "because you are not in a quickset hedge,' "in senticeto."
]

[Footnote 9: _From a boy_)--Ver. 872. An indelicate allusion is covertly
intended in this line. ]

[Footnote 10: _So may holy Gluttony_--Ver. 882. The Parasite very
appropriately deifies Gluttony: as the Goddess of Bellyful would, of
course, merit his constant worship.]

[Footnote 11: _Yes, by Apollo_)--Ver. 885. In the exuberance of his joy
at his prospects of good eating, the Parasite gives this, and his next
five replies, in the Greek language; just as the diner-out, and the man
of bon-mots and repartee, might in our day couch his replies in French,
with the shrug of the shoulder and the becoming grimace. He first swears
by Apollo, and then by Cora, which may mean either a city of Campania so
called, or the Goddess Proserpine, who was called by the Greeks,
[Greek: Korae], "the maiden." He then swears by four places in
Campania--Praeneste, Signia, Phrysinone, and Alatrium. As the scene
is in Greece, Hegio asks him why he swears by these foreign places;
to which he gives answer merely because they are as disagreable as the
unsavoury dinner of vegetables which he had some time since promised
him. This is, probably, merely an excuse for obtruding a slighting
remark upon these places, which would meet with a ready response from a
Roman audience, as the Campanians had sided with Hannibal against Rome
in the second Punic war. They were probably miserable places on which
the more refined Romans looked with supreme contempt.]

[Footnote 12: _Got a Boian woman_)--Vet. 893. There is an indelicate
meaning in the expression "Buiam terere." The whole line is intended
as a play upon words. "Boia" means either "a collar," which was placed
round a prisoner's neck, or a female of the nation of the Boii in Gaul.
"Boiam terere" may mean either "to have the prisoner's collar on," or,
paraphrastically, "to be coupled with a Boian woman." Ergasilus having
seen Stalagmus in the packet-boat with this collar on, declares that
Stalagmus is a Sicilian no longer, for he has turned Boian, having a
Boian helpmate.]

[Footnote 13: _I, in return, promise_)--Ver. 904. Ergasilus says, "Do
you really promise me this fine entertainment?" To which, Hegio answers,
"Spondeo," "I do promise." On this, Ergasilus replies, "that your son
really has returned, I answer you," "respondeo," or, as he intends it to
be meant, "I promise you once again," or "in return for your promise."]


SCENE III.--ERGASILUS, _alone._

ERG. He has gone away from here, _and_ has entrusted to me the most
important concern of catering. Immortal Gods! how I shall now be slicing
necks off of sides; how vast a downfall will befall the gammon [1]; how
vast a belabouring the bacon! How great a using-up of udders, how vast
a bewailing for the brawn! How great a bestirring for the butchers, how
great a _preparation_ for the pork-sellers! But if I were to enumerate
the rest of the things which minister to the supply of the stomach,
'twould be _sheer_ delay. Now will I go off to my government, to give
laws to the bacon, and, those gammons that are hanging uncondemned, [2]
to give aid to them. (_Goes into the house._)

[Footnote 1: _Befall the gammon_)--Ver. 908. An alliteration is
employed in these two lines, which cannot be well kept up in a literal
translation. As, however, in the translation an attempt is made to
give the spirit of the passage, the literal meaning may be here stated.
"Pernis pestis," "a plague to the gammons;" "labes larido," "a fall
for the bacon;" "sumini absumedo," "a consumption of udder;" "callo
calamitas," "destruction to the brawn;" and "laniis lassitudo,"
"weariness to the butchers." Sows' udder, with the milk in it, first
dried, and then cooked in some peculiar manner, was considered a great
delicacy by the Roman epicures.]

[Footnote 2: _Hanging uncondemned_)--Ver. 913. He'll commute the
punishment of the gammons and hams, for they shall hang no longer.]


ACT V.--SCENE I.

_Enter a_ LAD, _a servant of_ HEGIO.

LAD. May Jupiter and the Deities confound you, Ergasilus, and your
stomach, and all Parasites, and _every one_ who henceforth shall give
a dinner to Parasites. Destruction and devastation _and_ ruin have just
now entered our house. I was afraid that he would be making an attack on
me, as though he had been an hungry wolf. And very dreadfully, upon my
faith, was I frightened at him; he made such a gnashing with his teeth.
On his arrival, the whole larder, with the meat, he turned upside down.
He seized a knife, and first cut off the kernels of the neck [1] from
three sides. All the pots and cups he broke, except those that held a
couple of gallons [2]; of the cook he made enquiry whether the salting
pans could _be set on the fire_ to be made hot. All the cellars in the
house he has broken into, and has laid the store-closet [3] open. (_At
the door._) Watch him, servants, if you please; I'll go to meet the old
gentleman. I'll tell him to get ready some provisions for his own self,
if, indeed, he wishes himself to make use of any. For in this place, as
this man, indeed, is managing, either there's nothing already, or very
soon there will be nothing. (_Exit._

[Footnote 1: _The kernels of the neck_)--Ver. 920. The "glandia" were
the kernels or tonsils of the throat, situate just below the root of the
tongue. These portions of the dead pig seem to have been much prized as
delicate eating. Judging from the present passage, the whole side of
the pig, including the half-head, was salted and dried in one piece: The
first thing that the Parasite does, is to cut the kernels from off of
three sides, which he has relieved from the punishment of hanging.]

[Footnote 2: _A couple of gallons_)--Ver. 921. "Modiales." Literally,
containing a "modius," which contained sixteen sextarii, something more
than a peck of dry-measure English.]

[Footnote 3: _The store-closet_)--Ver. 923. "Armarium" was to called
because it was originally a place for keeping arms. It afterwards came
to signify a cupboard in a wall, in which clothes, books, money, and
other articles of value, were placed. It was generally in the "atrium,"
or principal room of the house. In this instance it evidently means the
store-closet, distinguished from the larder and the]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ HEGIO, PHILOPOLEMUS, PHILOCRATES, _and behind them_,
STALAGMUS.

HEG. To Jove and to the Deities I return with reason hearty thanks,
inasmuch as they have restored you to your father, and inasmuch as they
have delivered me from very many afflictions, which, while I was obliged
to be here without you, I was enduring, and inasmuch as I see that that
_fellow_ (_pointing to_ STALAGMUS) is in my power, and inasmuch as his
word (_pointing to_ PHILOCRATES) has been found true to me.

PHILOP. Enough now have I grieved from my very soul, and enough with
care and tears have I disquieted myself. Enough now have I heard of your
woes, which at the harbour you told me of. Let us now to this business.

PHIL. What now, since I've kept my word with you, and have caused him to
be restored back again to freedom?

HEG. Philocrates, you have acted so that I can never return you thanks
enough, in the degree that you merit from myself and my son.

PHILOP. Nay, but you can, father, and you will be able, and I shall
be able; and the Divinities will give the means for you to return the
kindness he merits to one who deserves so highly of us; as, my father,
you are able to do to this person who so especially deserves it.

HEG. What need is there of words? I have no tongue with which to deny
whatever you may ask _of me_.

PHIL. I ask of you to restore to me that servant whom I left here as
a surety for myself; who has always proved more faithful to me than to
himself; in order that for his services I may be enabled to give him a
reward.

HEG. Because you have acted _thus_ kindly, the favour shall be returned,
the thing that you ask; both that and anything else that you shall ask
of me, you shall obtain. And I would not have you blame me, because in
my anger I have treated him harshly.

PHIL. What have you done? HEG. I confined him in fetters at the
stone-quarries, when I found out that I had been imposed upon.

PHIL. Ah wretched me! That for my safety misfortunes should have
happened to that best of men.

HEG. Now, on this account, you need not give me even _one_ groat of
silver [1] for him. Receive him of me without cost that he may be free.

PHIL. On my word, Hegio, you act with kindness; but I entreat that you
will order _this_ man to be sent for.

HEG. Certainly. (_To the attendants, who immediately obey._) Where are
you? Go this instant, _and_ bring Tyndarus here. (To PHILOPOLEMUS and
PHILOCRATES.) Do you go in-doors; in the meantime, I wish to enquire of
this statue for whipping [2], what was done with my younger son. Do you
go bathe in the meantime.

PHILOP. Philocrates, follow me this way in-doors.

PHIL. I follow you. (_They go into the house._)

[Footnote 1: _One groat of silver_)--Ver. 952. "Libella" was the name
of the smallest silver coin with the Romans, being the tenth part of a
denarius. Hegio seems to make something of a favour of this, and to give
his liberty to Tyndarus in consideration of his punishment; whereas
he had originally agreed with Philocrates that, if Philopolemus was
liberated, both he and Tyndarus should be set at liberty.]

[Footnote 2: _This statue for whipping_)--Ver. 956. The same expression
occurs in the Pseudolus, I. 911.]


SCENE III.--HEGIO _and_ STALAGMUS.

HEG. Come you, step this way, you worthy fellow, my fine slave.

STAL. What is fitting for me to do, when you, such a man as you are, are
speaking false? I was never a handsome _or_ a fine, _or_ a good person,
_or_ an honest one, nor shall I ever be; assuredly, don't you be forming
any hopes that I shall be honest.

HEG. You easily understand pretty well in what situation your fortunes
are. If you shall prove truth-telling, you'll make your lot from bad
somewhat better. Speak out, _then_, correctly and truthfully; but never
yet truthfully or correctly have you acted.

STAL. Do you think that I'm ashamed to own it, when you affirm it?

HEG. But I'll make you to be ashamed; for I'll cause you to be blushes
all over [1].

STAL. Heyday--you're threatening stripes, I suppose, to me, _quite_
unaccustomed to them! Away with them, I beg. Tell me what you bring,
that you may carry off hence what you are in want of.

HEG. Very fluent _indeed_. But now I wish this prating to be cut short.

STAL. As you desire, so be it done.

HEG. (_to the_ AUDIENCE). As a boy he was very obedient [2]; now that
suits him not. Let's to this business; now give your attention, and
inform me upon what I ask. If you tell the truth, you'll make your
fortunes somewhat better.

STAL. That's _mere_ trifling. Don't you think that I know what I'm
deserving of?

HEG. Still, it is in your power to escape a small portion of it, if not
the whole.

STAL. A small portion I shall escape, I know; but much will befall me,
and with my deserving it, because I both ran away, and stole your son
and sold him.

HEG. To what person? STAL. To Theodoromedes the Polyplusian, in Elis,
for six minae.

HEG. O ye immortal Gods! He surely is the father of this person,
Philocrates.

STAL. Why, I know him better than yourself, and have seen him more
times.

HEG. Supreme Jove, preserve both myself and my son for me. (_He goes to
the door, and calls aloud._) Philocrates, by your _good_ Genius, I do
entreat you, come out, I want you.

[Footnote 1: _Be blushes all over_)--Ver. 967. He means that he will
have him flogged until he is red all over.]

[Footnote 2: _Was very obedient_)--Ver. 971. An indelicate remark is
covertly intended in this passage.]


SCENE IV.--_Enter_ PHILOCRATES, _from the house._

PHIL. Hegio, here am I; if you want anything of me, command me.

HEG. He (_pointing to_ STALAGMUS) declares that he sold my son to your
father, in Elis, for six minae.

PHIL. (to STALAGMUS). How long since did that happen?

STAL. This is the twentieth year, commencing _from it_.

PHIL. He is speaking falsely. STAL. Either I or you _do_. Why, your
father gave you the little child, of four years old, to be your own
slave.

PHIL. What was his name? If you are speaking the truth, tell me that,
then.

STAL. Paegnium, he used to be called; afterwards, you gave him the name
of Tyndarus.

PHIL. Why don't I recollect you? STAL. Because it's the fashion for
persons to forget, and not to know him whose favour is esteemed as worth
nothing.

PHIL. Tell me, was he the person whom you sold to my father, who was
given me for my private service?

STAL. _It was_ his son (_pointing to_ HEGIO).

HEG. Is this person now living? STAL. I received the money. I cared
nothing about the rest.

HEG. (_to_ PHILOCRATES). What do you say?

PHIL. Why, this very Tyndarus is your son, according, indeed, to the
proofs that he mentions. For, a boy _himself_ together with me from
boyhood was he brought up, virtuously and modestly, even to manhood.

HEG. I am both unhappy and happy, if you are telling the truth. Unhappy
for this reason, because, if he is my son, I have badly treated him.
Alas! why have I done both more and less than was his due. That I have
ill treated him I am grieved; would that it only could be undone. But
see, he's coming here, in a guise not according to his deserts.


SCENE V.--_Enter_ TYNDARUS, _in chains, led in by the_ SERVANTS.

TYND. (_to himself_). I have seen many of the torments which take place
at Acheron [1] often represented in paintings [2]; but most certainly
there is no Acheron equal to where I have been in the stone-quarries.
There, in fine, is the place where real lassitude must be undergone
by the body in laboriousness. For when I came there, just as either
jackdaws, or ducks, or quails, are given to Patrician children [3], for
them to play with, so in like fashion, when I arrived, a crow was given
[4] me with which to amuse myself. But see, my master's before the door;
and lo! my other master has returned from Elis.

HEG. Hail to you, my much wished-for son.

TYND. Ha! how--my son? Aye, aye, I know why you pretend yourself to be
the father, and me to be the son; _it is_
because, just as parents do, you give me the means of seeing the light[5].

PHIL. Hail to you, Tyndarus. TYND. And to you, for whose sake I am
enduring these miseries.

PHIL. But now I'll make you in freedom come to wealth. For (_pointing
to_ HEGIO) this is your father; (_pointing to_ STALAGMUS) that is the
slave who stole you away from here when four years old, _and_ sold you
to my father for six minae. He gave you, when a little child, to me a
little child, for my own service. He (_pointing to_ STALAGMUS). has made
a confession, for we have brought him back from Elis.

TYND. How, where's _Hegio's_ son? PHIL. Look _now_; in-doors is your own
brother.

TYND. How do you say? Have you brought that captive son of his?

PHIL. Why, he's in-doors, I say.

TYND. By my faith, you're done both well and happily.

PHIL. (_pointing to_ HEGIO). Now this is your own father; (_pointing to_
STALAGMUS) this is the thief who stole you when a little child.

TYND. But now, grown up, I shall give him grown up to the executioner
for his thieving.

PHIL. He deserves it. TYND. I' faith, I'll deservedly give him the
reward that he deserves. (_To_ HEGIO.) But tell me I pray you, are you
my father?

HEG, I am he, my son. TYND. Now, at length, I bring it to my
recollection, when I reconsider with myself: troth, I do now at last
recall to memory that I had heard, as though through a mist, that my
father was called Hegio.

HEG. I am he. PHIL. I pray that your son may be lightened of these
fetters, and this slave be loaded with them.

HEG. I'm resolved that that shall be the first thing attended to. Let's
go in-doors, that the blacksmith may be sent for, in order that I may
remove those fetters from you, and give them to him. (_They go into the
house._)

STAL. To one who has no savings _of his own_, you'll be rightly doing so
[6].

_The_ COMPANY _of_ PLAYERS _coming forward._

Spectators, this play is founded on chaste manners. No wenching is there
in this, and no intriguing, no exposure of a child, no cheating out of
money; and no young man in love here make his mistress free without his
father's knowledge. The Poets find but few Comedies [7] of this kind,
where good men might become better. Now, if it pleases you, and if we
have pleased you, and have not been tedious, do you give this sign _of
it_: you who wish that chaste manners should have their reward, give
_us_ your applause.

[Footnote 1: _At Acheron_)--Ver. 1003. He here speaks of Acheron, not as
one of the rivers of hell, but as the infernal regions themselves.]

[Footnote 2: _Represented in paintings_)--Ver. 1003 Meursius thinks
that the torments of the infernal regions were frequently represented in
pictures, for the purpose of deterring men from evil actions, by keeping
in view the certain consequences of their bad conduct.]

[Footnote 3: _To Patrician children_)--Ver. 1007. This passage is
confirmed by what Pliny the Younger tells us in his Second Epistle. He
says, that on the death of the son of Regulus, his father, in his grief,
caused his favourite ponies and dogs, with his nightingales, parrots,
and jackdaws, to be consumed on the funeral pile. It would certainly
have been a greater compliment to his son's memory had he preserved
them, and treated them kindly; but probably he intended to despatch them
as playthings for the child in the other world.]

[Footnote 4: _A crow was given_)--Ver. 1009. "Upupa." He puns upon the
twofold meaning of this word, which signified either "a mattock" or a
bird called a "hoopoe," according to the context. To preserve the spirit
of the pun, a somewhat different translation has been given.]

[Footnote 5: _Of seeing the light_)--Ver. 1013. He says, "You can only
resemble a parent in the fact that you have given me the opportunity of
seeing the light of day, by taking me out of the dark stone-quarries."]

[Footnote 6: _Be rightly doing so_)--Ver. 1033. Stalagmus chooses to
take the word "dem" "may give," used by Hegio in its literal sense,
and surlily replies, "I have nothing of my own by way of savings,
'peculium,' so I am the very person to whom you ought to give."]

[Footnote 7: _Find but few Comedies_)--Ver. 1038. He here confesses that
he does not pretend to frame the plots of his Plays himself, but that he
goes to Greek sources for them; and forgetting that "beggars most not
be choosers," he complains that so very few of the Greek Comedies are
founded upon chaste manners. Indeed, this Play is justly deemed the most
pure and innocent of all the Plays of Plautus; and the Company are quite
justified in the commendations which, in their Epilogue, they bestow
on it, as the author has carried out the premise which he made in the
Prologue (with only four slight exceptions), of presenting them with an
immaculate Play.]



MOSTELLARIA OR, THE HAUNTED HOUSE.



DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

   THEUROPIDES, a merchant of Athens.
   SIMO, an aged Athenian, his neighbour.
   PHILOLACHES, son of Theuropides.
   CALLIDAMATES, a young Athenian, friend of Philolaches.
   TRANIO, servant of Philolaches.
   GRUMIO, servant of Theuropides.
   PHANISCUS, servant of Callidamates.
   ANOTHER SERVANT of Callidamates.
   A BANKER.
   A BOY.
   PHILEMATIUM, a music-girl, mistress of Philolaches.
   SCAPHA, her attendant.
   DELPHIUM, mistress of Callidamates.

_Scene_--Athens: before the houses of THEUROPIDES and SIMO.



MOSTELLARIA [1] OR, THE HAUNTED HOUSE.

[Footnote 1: _Mottellaria_) This is a word probably derived from
"mostellum," the diminutive of "monstrum," a "spectre" or "prodigy." It
was probably coined by Plautus to serve as the title of this Play,
which is called by several of the ancient Commentators by the name of
"Phasma," "the Apparition."]



THE ACROSTIC ARGUMENT. [Supposed to have been written by Priscian the
Grammarian.]

PHILOLACHES has given liberty to (_Manumisit_) his mistress who has
been bought _by him_, and he consumes all (_Omnem_) his substance in
the absence of his father. When he returns, Tranio deceives the old man
(_Senem_); he says that frightful (_Terrifica_) apparitions have been
seen in the house, and (_Et_) that at once they had removed from it. A
Usurer, greedy of gain (_Lucripeta_), comes up in the meantime, asking
for the interest _of some money_, and again the old man is made sport
of (_Lusus_) for the _servant_ says that a deposit for a house which
has been bought has been taken up (_Acceptum_) on loan. _The old man_
enquires (_Requirit_) which it is; he says that of the neighbour next
door. He then looks over (_Inspectat_) it. Afterwards he is vexed that
he has been laughed at; still by (_Ab_) the companion of his son he is
_finally_ appeased.



ACT I.--SCENE I. _Enter, from the house of_ THEUROPIDES, GRUMIO,
_pushing out_ TRANIO.

GRU. Get out of the kitchen, will you; out of it, _you_ whip-scoundrel,
who are giving me your cavilling talk amid the platters; march out of
the house, you ruin of your master. Upon my faith, if I _only_ live,
I'll be soundly revenged upon you in the country. Get out, I say, you
steam of the kitchen. Why are you skulking _thus_?

TRA. Why the plague are you making _this_ noise here before the house?
Do you fancy yourself to be in the country[1]? Get out of the house;
be off into the country. Go and hang yourself. Get away from the door.
(_Striking him_.) There now, was it that you wanted?

GRU. (_running away_). I'm undone! Why are you beating me? TRA. Because
you want it.

GRU. I must endure it. Only let the old gentleman return _home_; only
let him come safe _home_, whom you are devouring in his absence.

TRA. You don't say what's either likely or true, you blockhead, as to
any one devouring a person in his absence.

GRU. Indeed, you town wit, you minion of the mob, do you throw the
country in my teeth? Really, Tranio, I do believe that you feel sure
that before long you'll be handed over to the mill. Within a short
period, i' faith, Tranio, you'll full soon be adding to the iron-bound
race [2] in the country. While you choose to, and have the opportunity,
drink on, squander his property, corrupt my master's son, a most worthy
young man, drink night and day, live like Greeks [3], make purchase of
mistresses, give them their freedom, feed parasites, feast yourselves
sumptuously. Was it thus that the old gentleman enjoined you when
he went hence abroad? Is it after this fashion that he will find his
property well husbanded? Do you suppose that this is the duty of a good
servant, to be ruining both the estate and the son of his master? For I
do consider him as ruined, when he devotes himself to these goings on.
_A person_, with whom not one of all the young men of Attica was before
deemed equally frugal or more steady, the same is now carrying off
the palm in the opposite direction. Through your management and your
tutoring has that been done.

TRA. What the plague business have you with me or with, what I do?
Prithee, haven't you got _your_ cattle in the country for you to look
to? I choose to drink, to intrigue, to keep my wenches; this I do at the
peril of my own back, _and_ not of yours.

GRU. Then with what assurance he does talk! (_Turning away in disgust._)
Faugh!

TRA. But may Jupiter and all the Deities confound you; you stink of
garlick, you filth unmistakeable, you clod, you he-goat, you pig-sty,
you mixture of dog and she-goat.

GRU. What would you have to be done? It isn't all that can smell of
foreign perfumes, if you smell of them; or that can take their places at
table above their master, or live on such exquisite dainties as you live
upon. Do you keep to yourself those turtle-doves, _that_ fish, _and_
poultry; let me enjoy my lot upon garlick diet. You are fortunate; I
unlucky. It must be endured. Let my good fortune be awaiting me, your
bad yourself.

TRA. You seem, Grumio, as though you envied me, because I enjoy myself
and you are wretched. It is quite my due. It's proper for me to make
love, and for you to feed the cattle; for me to fare handsomely, you in
a miserable way.

GRU. O riddle for the executioner [4], as I guess it will turn out;
they'll be so pinking you with goads, as you carry your gibbet [5] along
the streets one day, as soon as ever the old gentleman returns here.

TERA. How do you know whether that mayn't happen to yourself sooner than
to me? GRU. Because I have never deserved it; you have deserved it, and
you now deserve it.

TRA. Do cut short the trouble of your talking, unless you wish a heavy
mischance to befall you.

GRU. Are you going to give me the tares for me to take for the cattle?
If you are not, give me the money. Go on, still persist in the way in
which you've commenced! Drink, live like Greeks, eat, stuff yourselves,
slaughter your fatlings!

TRA. Hold your tongue, and be off into the country; I intend to go to
the Piraeus to get me some fish for the evening. To-morrow I'll make
some one bring you the tares to the farm. What's the matter? Why now are
you staring at me, gallows-bird?

GRU. I' faith, I've an idea that will be your own title before long.

TRA. So long as it is as it is, in the meantime I'll put up with that
"before long."

GRU. That's the way; and understand this one thing, that that which is
disagreable comes much more speedily than that which you wish for.

TRA. Don't you be annoying; now then, away with you into the country,
and betake yourself off. Don't you deceive yourself, henceforth you
shan't be causing me _any_ impediment. (_Exit._

GRU. (_to himself_). Is he really gone? Not to care one straw for what
I've said! O immortal Gods, I do implore your aid, do cause this old
gentleman of ours, who has now been three years absent from here, to
return hither as soon as possible, before everything is gone, both house
and land. Unless he does return here, remnants to last for a few months
_only_ are left. Now I'll be off to the country; but look! I see
my master's son, one who has been corrupted from having been a most
excellent young man. (_Exit._

[Footnote 1: In the country)--Ver. 7. Grumio appears to have been cook
and herdsman combined, and perhaps generally employed at the country
farm of Thenropides. On this occasion he seems to have been summoned to
town to cook for the entertainment which Philolaches is giving to his
friends.]

[Footnote 2: _The iron-bound race_)--Ver. 18. The gang of slaves, who,
for their malpractices, are working in the country in chains.]

[Footnote 3: _Live like Greeks_)--Ver. 21. "Pergraescamini." Though the
Scene is at Athens, Plautus consults the taste of a Roman Audience, as
on many other occasions, in making the Greeks the patterns of riotous
livers. Asconius Pedianus says that at these entertainments the Greeks
drank off a cup of wine every time they named a Divinity or mentioned a
friend.]

[Footnote 4: _Riddle for the executioner_)--Ver. 52. Riddled with holes
by the scourge of the executioner.]

[Footnote 5: _You carry your gibbet_--Ver. 53. Bearing his own cross; a
refinement of torture which was too often employed upon malefactors.]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ PHILOLACHES, _from the house of_ THEUROPIDES.

PHIL. (_to himself_). I've often thought and long reflected on it, and
in my breast have held many a debate, and in my heart (if any heart I
have) have revolved this matter, and long discussed it, to what thing
I'm to consider man as like, and what form he has when he is born? I've
now discovered this likeness. I think a man is like unto a new house
when he is born. I'll give my proofs of this fact. (_To the_ AUDIENCE.)
And does not this seem to you like the truth? But so I'll manage that
you shall think it is so. Beyond a doubt I'll convince you that it is
true what I say. And this yourselves, I'm sure, when you have heard my
words, will say is no otherwise than just as I now affirm that it is.
Listen while I repeat my proofs of this fact; I want you to be equally
knowing with myself upon this matter. As soon as ever a house is built
up, nicely polished off [1], carefully erected, _and_ according to rule,
people praise the architect and approve of the house, they take from it
each one a model for himself. Each one _has_ something similar, quite
at his own expense; they do not spare their pains. But when a worthless,
lazy, dirty, negligent fellow betakes himself thither with an idle
family, then is it imputed as a fault to the house, while a good _house_
is being kept in bad repair. And this is often the case; a storm comes
on and breaks the tiles and gutters; then a careless owner takes no heed
to put up others. A shower comes on _and_ streams down the walls; the
rafters admit the rain; the weather rots the labours of the builder;
then the utility of the house becomes diminished; and yet this is not
the fault of the builder. But a great part _of mankind_ have contracted
this _habit of_ delay; if anything can be repaired by means of money,
they are always still putting it off, and don't * * * do it until the
walls come tumbling down [2]; _then_ the whole house has to be built
anew. These instances from buildings I've mentioned; and now I wish to
inform you how you are to suppose that men are like houses. In the first
place then, the parents are the builders-up of the children, and lay the
foundation for the children; they raise them up, they carefully train
them to strength, and that they may be good both for service and for
view before the public. They spare not either their own pains or their
cost, nor do they deem expense in that to be an expense. They refine
them, teach them literature, the ordinances, the laws; at their own cost
and labour they struggle, that others may wish for their own _children_
to be like to them. When they repair to the army, they then find them
some relation [3] of theirs as a protector. At that moment they pass out
of the builder's hands. One year's pay has _now_ been earned; at that
period, then, a sample is on view how the building will turn out. But
I was always discreet and virtuous, just as long as I was under the
management of the builder. After I had left him to follow the bent of
my own inclinations, at once I entirely spoiled the labours of the
builders. Idleness came on; that was my storm; on its arrival, upon me
it brought down hail _and_ showers, which overthrew my modesty and the
bounds of virtue, and untiled them for me in an instant. After that
I was neglectful to cover in _again_; at once passion like a torrent
entered my heart; it flowed down even unto my breast, _and_ soaked
through my heart. Now both property, credit, fair fame, virtue, _and_
honor have forsaken _me_; by usage have I become much worse, and, i'
faith (so rotten are these rafters of _mine_ with moisture), I do not
seem to myself to be able possibly to patch up my house to _prevent
it_ from falling down totally once for all, from perishing from the
foundation, _and_ from no one being able to assist me. My heart pains
me, when I reflect how I now am and how I _once_ was, than whom in
youthful age not one there was more active in the arts of exercise [4],
with the quoit, the javelin, the ball, racing, arms, _and_ horses. I
_then_ lived a joyous life [5]; in frugality and hardihood I was an
example to others; all, even the most deserving, took a lesson from me
for themselves. Now that I'm become worthless, to that, indeed, have I
hastened through the bent of my inclinations. (_He stands apart._)

[Footnote 1: _Polished off_)--Ver. 98. From this passage it would
seem that pains were taken to give the houses a smooth and polished
appearance on the outside.]

[Footnote 2: _Walls come tumbling down_)--Ver. 114. Warner remarks that
a sentiment not unlike this is found in Scripture, Ecclesiastes, x. 18:
"By much slothfulness, the building decayeth; and through idleness of
the hands the house droppeth through." It may be also observed that the
passage is very similar to the words of the parable of the foolish
man who built his house upon sand, St. Matthew, vii. 26: "And the rain
descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that
house, and it fell; and great was the fall thereof."]

[Footnote 3: _Find them some relation_)--Ver. 127. In the first year of
military service the Roman youths were placed under the tutelage of some
relation or friend.]

[Footnote 4: _In the arts of exercise_)--Ver. 147. "Arte gymnastica."
Literally, "in the gymnastic art."]

[Footnote 5: _Lived a joyous life_)--Ver. 148. "Victitabam volup."
Lambinus suggests that the true reading here is "hand volup," "not
voluptuously."]


SCENE III.--_Enter_ PHILEMATIUM _and_ SCAPHA, _with all the requisites
for a toilet._

PHILE. On my word, for this long time I've not bathed in cold water with
more delight _than just now_; nor do I think that I ever was, my _dear_
Scapha, more thoroughly cleansed _than now_.

SCA. May the upshot of everything be _unto you_ like a plenteous year's
harvest.

PHILE. What has this harvest got to do with my bathing?

SCA. Not a bit more than your bathing _has to do_ with the harvest.

PHILO. (_apart_). O beauteous Venus, this is that storm of mine which
stripped off all the modesty with which I was roofed; through which
Desire and Cupid poured their shower into my breast; and never since
have I been able to roof it in. Now are my walls soaking in my heart;
this building is utterly undone.

PHILE. Do look, my Scapha, there's a dear, whether this dress quite
becomes me. I wish to please Philolaches my protector, the apple of my
eye.

SCA. Nay but, you set yourself off to advantage with pleasing manners,
inasmuch as you yourself are pleasing. The lover isn't in love with a
woman's dress, but with that which stuffs out [1]the dress.

PHILO. (_apart_). So may the Gods bless me, Scapha is waggish; the
hussy's quite knowing. How cleverly she understands all matters, the
maxims of lovers too!

PHILE. Well now? SCA. What is it?

PHILE. Why look at me and examine, how this becomes me.

SCA. Thanks to your good looks, it happens that whatever you put on
becomes you.

PHILO. (_apart_). Now then, for that expression, Scapha, I'll make you
some present or other to-day, and I won't allow you to have praised her
for nothing who is so pleasing to me.

PHILE. I don't want you to flatter me.

SCA. Really you are a very simple woman. Come now, would you rather be
censured undeservedly, than be praised with truth? Upon thy faith, for
my own part, even though undeservedly, I'd much rather be praised than
be found fault with with reason, or that other people should laugh at my
appearance.

PHILE. I love the truth; I wish the truth to be told me; I detest a
liar.

SCA. So may you love me, _and_ so may your Philolaches love you, how
charming you are.

PHILO. (_apart_). How say you, you hussy? In what words did you adjure?
"So may I love her?" Why wasn't "So may she _love_ me" added as well? I
revoke the present. What I just now promised you is done for; you have
lost the present.

SCA. Troth, for my part I am surprised that you, a person so knowing,
so clever, and _so_ well educated, are not aware that you are acting
foolishly.

PHILE. Then give me your advice, I beg, if I have done wrong in
anything.

SCA. I' faith, you certainly do wrong, in setting your mind upon
him alone, in fact, and humouring him in particular in this way and
slighting other men. It's the part of a married woman, _and_ not of
courtesans, to be devoted to a single lover.

PHILO. (_apart_). O Jupiter! Why, what pest is this that has befallen
my house? May all the Gods and Goddesses destroy me in the worst of
fashions, if I don't kill this old hag with thirst, and hunger, and
cold.

PHILE. I don't want you, Scapha, to be giving me bad advice.

SCA. You are clearly a simpleton, in thinking that he'll for everlasting
be your friend and well-wisher. I warn you _of that_; he'll forsake you
by reason of age and satiety.

PHILE. I hope not.

SCA. Things which you don't hope happen more frequently than things
which you do hope. In fine, if you cannot be persuaded by words to
believe this to be the truth, judge of my words from facts; consider
_this_ instance, who I _now_ am, and who I _once_ was. No less than
you _are_ now, was I _once_ beloved, and I devoted myself to one, who,
faith, when with age this head changed its hue, forsook and deserted me.
Depend on it, the same will happen to yourself.

PHILO. (_apart_). I can scarcely withhold myself from flying at the eyes
of this mischief-maker.

PHILE. I am of opinion that I ought to keep myself alone devoted to him,
since to myself alone has he given freedom for himself alone.

PHILO. (_apart_). O ye immortal Gods! what a charming woman, and of
a disposition how chaste! By heaven, 'tis excellently done, and I'm
rejoiced at it, that it is for her sake I've got nothing _left_.

SCA. On my word you really are silly.

PHILE. For what reason?

SCA. Because you care for this, whether he loves you.

PHILE. Prithee, why should I not care for it?

SCA. You now are free. You've now got what you wanted; if he didn't
still love you, as much money as he gave for your liberty, he'd lose.

PHILO. (_apart_). Heavens, I'm a dead man if I don't torture her to
death after the most shocking fashion. That evil-persuading enticer to
vice is corrupting this damsel.

PHILE. Scapha, I can never return him _sufficient_ thanks for what he
deserves of me; don't you be persuading me to esteem him less.

SCA. But take care and reflect upon this one thing, if you devote
yourself to him alone, while now you are at this youthful age, you'll be
complaining to no purpose in your aged years.

PHILO. (_apart_). I could wish myself this instant changed into a
quinsy, that I might seize the throat of that old witch, and put an end
to the wicked mischief-maker.

PHILE. It befits me now to have the same grateful feelings since I
obtained it, as formerly before I acquired it, when I used to lavish
caresses upon him.

PHILO. (_apart_). May the Gods do towards me what they please, if for
that speech I don't make you free over again, and if I don't torture
Scapha to death.

SCA. If you are quite assured that you will have a provision to the end,
and that this lover will be your own for life, I think that you ought to
devote yourself to him alone, and assume the character of a wife [2].

PHILE. Just as a person's character is, he's in the habit of finding
means accordingly; if I keep a good character for myself I shall be rich
enough.

PHILO. (_apart_). By my troth, since selling there must be, my father
shall be sold much sooner than, while I'm alive, I'll ever permit you to
be in want or go a-begging.

SCA. What's to become of the rest of those who are in love with you?

PHILE. They'll love me the more when they see me displaying gratitude to
one who has done me services.

PHILO. (_apart_). I do wish that news were brought me now that my
father's dead, that I might disinherit myself of my property, and that
she might be my heir.

SCA. This property _of his_ will certainly soon be at an end; day and
night there's eating _and_ drinking, and no one displays thriftiness;
'tis downright cramming [3].

PHILO. (_apart_). I' faith, I'm determined to make trial on yourself for
the first to be thrifty; for you shall neither eat nor drink anything at
my house for the next ten days.

PHILE. If you choose to say anything good about him, you shall be at
liberty to say it; if you speak otherwise than well, on my word you
shall have a beating instantly.

PHILO. (_apart_). Upon my faith, if I had paid sacrifice to supreme Jove
with that money which I gave for her liberty, never could I have so well
employed it. Do see, how, from her very heart's core, she loves me! Oh,
I'm a fortunate man; I've liberated _in her_ a patron to plead my cause
for me.

SCA. I see that, compared with Philolaches, you disregard _all_ other
men; now, that on his account I mayn't get a beating, I'll agree with
you in preference, if you are quite satisfied that he will always prove
a friend to you.

PHILE. Give me the mirror [4], and the casket with my trinkets,
directly, Scapha, that I may be _quite_ dressed when Philolaches, my
delight, comes here.

SCA. A woman who neglects herself and her _youthful_ age has occasion
for a mirror; what need of a mirror have you, who yourself are in
especial a mirror for a mirror.

PHILO. (_apart_). For that expression, Scapha, that you mayn't have
said anything so pretty in vain, I'll to-day give something for your
savings--to you, my Philematium.

PHILE. (_while_ SCAPHA _is dressing her hair_). Will you see that each
hair is nicely arranged in its own place?

SCA. When you _yourself_ are _so_ nice, do believe that your hair must
be nice.

PHILO. (_apart_). Out upon it! what worse thing can possibly be spoken
of than this woman? Now the jade's a flatterer, just now she was all
contradictory.

PHILE. Hand me the ceruse [5].

SCA. Why, what need of ceruse _have you_?

PHILE. To paint my cheeks with it.

SCA. On the same principle, you would want to be making ivory white with
ink.

PHILO. (_apart_). Cleverly said that, about the ink and the ivory!
Bravo! I applaud you, Scapha.

PHILE. Well then, do you give me the rouge.

SCA. I shan't give it. You really are a clever one. Do you wish to patch
up a most clever piece with new daubing? It's not right that any paint
should touch that person, neither ceruse, nor quince-ointment, nor any
other wash. Take the mirror, then. (_Hands her the glass._)

PHILO. (_apart._) Ah wretched me!--she gave the glass a kiss. I could
much wish for a stone, with which to break the head of that glass.

SCA. Take the towel and wipe your hands.

PHILE. Why so, prithee?

SCA. As you've been holding the mirror, I'm afraid that your hands may
smell of silver; lest Philolaches should suspect you've been receiving
silver somewhere.

PHILO. (_apart_). I don't think that I ever did see anyone procuress
more cunning. How cleverly and artfully did it occur to the jade's
imagination about the mirror!

PHILE. Do you think I ought to be perfumed with unguents as well?

SCA. By no means do so. PHILE. For what reason?

SCA. Because, i' faith, a woman smells best [6] when she smells of
nothing at all. For those old women who are in the habit of anointing
themselves with unguents, vampt up _creatures_, old hags, _and_
toothless, who hide the blemishes of the person with paint, when the
sweat has blended itself with the unguents, forthwith they stink just
like when a cook has poured together a variety of broths; what they
smell of, you don't know, except this only, that you understand that
badly they do smell.

PHILO. (_apart_). How very cleverly she does understand everything!
There's nothing more knowing than this knowing woman! (_To the_
AUDIENCE.) This is the truth, and a very great portion, in fact, of you
know it, who have old women for wives at home who purchased you with
their portions.

PHILE. Come now; examine my golden trinkets and my mantle; does this
quite become me, Scapha?

SCA. It befits not me to concern myself about that.

PHILE. Whom then, prithee?

SCA. I'll tell you; Philolaches; so that he may not buy anything except
that which he fancies will please you. For a lover buys the favours of
a mistress for himself with gold and purple garments. What need is there
for that which he doesn't want as his own, to be shown him still? Age is
to be enveloped in purple; gold ornaments are unsuitable for a woman.
A beautiful woman will be more beautiful naked than drest in purple.
Besides, it's in vain she's well-drest if she's ill-conducted;
ill-conduct soils fine ornaments worse than dirt. But if she's
beauteous, she's sufficiently adorned.

PHILO. (_apart_). Too long have I withheld my hand. (_Coming forward._)
What are you about here?

PHILE. I'm decking myself out to please you.

PHILO. You are dressed enough. (_To_ SCAPHA.) Go you hence indoors, and
take away this finery. (SCAPHA _goes into the house._) But, my delight,
my Philematium, I have a mind to regale together with you.

PHILE. And, i' faith, so I have with you; for what you have a mind to,
the same have I a mind to, my delight.

PHILO. Ha! at twenty minae that expression were cheap.

PHILE. Give me ten, there's a dear; I wish to let you have that
expression bought a bargain.

PHILO. You've already got ten minae with you; or reckon up the account:
thirty minae I gave for your freedom--

PHILE. Why reproach me _with that_?

PHILO. What, I reproach you with it? Why, I had rather that I myself
were reproached with it; no money whatever for this long time have I
ever laid out equally well.

PHILE. Surely, in loving you, I never could have better employed my
pains.

PHILO. The account, then, of receipts and expenditure fully tallies
between ourselves; you love me, I love you. Each thinks that it is so
deservedly. Those who rejoice at this, may they ever rejoice at the
continuance of their own happiness. Those who envy, let not any one
henceforth be ever envious of their blessings.

PHILE. (_pointing to a couch on the stage_). Come, take your place,
then. (_At the door, to a_ SERVANT, _who obeys._) Boy, bring some water
for the hands; put a little table here. See where are the dice. Would
you like some perfumes? (_They recline on the couch._)

PHILO. What need is there? Along with myrrh I am reclining. But isn't
this my friend who's coming hither with his mistress? 'Tis he; it's
Callidamates; look, he's coming. Capital! my sweet one, see, our
comrades are approaching; they're coming to share the spoil.

[Footnote 1: _That which stuffs out_)--Ver. 164. That is, the body.]

[Footnote 2: _Assume the character of a wife_)--Ver. 220. "Capiundos
crines." Literally, "the hair mast be assumed." Festus says that it was
usual on the occasion of the marriage ceremony, to add six rows of curls
to the hair of the bride, in imitation of the Vestal virgins, who were
patterns of purity, and were dressed in that manner. Hence the term
"capere crines" came to signify "to become a wife."]

[Footnote 3: _'Tis downright cramming_)--Ver. 230. "Sagina plane est."
"Sagina" was the term applied to the fattening or cramming of animals
for the purpose of killing. The use of the term implies Scapha'a notion
of the bestial kind of life that Philolaches was leading.]

[Footnote 4: _Give me the mirror_)--Ver. 242. Probably a mirror with a
handle, such as the servants usually held for their mistresses. There is
something comical in the notion of a female coming out into the street
to make her toilet.]

[Footnote 5: _Hand me the ceruse_)--Ver. 252. White lead, or "cerussa,"
was used by the Roman women for the purpose of whitening the complexion.
Ovid mentions it in his Treatise on the Care of the Complexion, L 73.]

[Footnote 6: _A woman smells best_)--Ver. 267. Cicero and Martial have
a similar sentiment; their opinion has been followed by many modern
writers, and other persons as well.]


SCENE IV.--_Enter_ CALLIDAMATES, _at a distance, drunk, and_ DELPHIUM,
_followed by a_ SERVANT.

CALL. (_to his_ SERVANT). I want you to come for me [1] in good time to
the house of Philolaches; listen you; well then! those are your orders.
(_Exit_ SERVANT.) For from the place where I was, thence did I betake
myself off; so confoundedly tired was I there with the entertainment and
the discourse. Now I'll go to Philolaches to have a bout; there he'll
receive us with jovial feelings and handsomely. Do I seem to you to be
fairly drenched, my bubsy?

DEL. You ought always to live pursuing this course of life.

CALL. Should you like, _then_, for me to hug you, and you me? DEL. If
you've a mind to do so, of course.

CALL. You are a charming one. (_He stumbles._) Do hold me up, there's a
dear.

DEL. (_holding him by the arm_). Take care you don't fall. Stand up.

CALL. O! you are the apple of my eye. I'm your fosterling, my honey.
(_He stumbles._)

DEL. (_still holding him up_). Only do take care that you don't recline
in the street, before we get to a place where a couch is ready laid.

CALL. Do let me fall.

DEL. _Well_, I'll let you. (_Lets go._)

CALL. (_dragging her as he falls_). But that as well which I've got hold
of in my hand.

DEL. If you fall, you shan't fall without me falling with you. Then
some one shall pick us both up as we lie. (_Aside._) The man's quite
drenched.

CALL. (_overhearing_). Do you say that I am drenched, my bubsy?

DEL. Give me your hand; I really do not want you hurt.

CALL. (_giving his hand_). There now, take it.

DEL. Come, move on with me.

CALL. Where am I going, do you know?

DEL. I know.

CALL. It has just come into my head: why, of course I'm going home for a
booze.

DEL. Why yes, really now I do remember that.

PHILO. Won't you let me go to find them, my life? Of all persons I wish
well to him especially. I'll return just now. (_Goes forward towards the
door._)

PHILE. That "just now" is a long time to me.

CALL. (_going to the door and knocking_). Is there any person here?

PHILO. 'Tis he.

CALL. (_turning round_). Bravo! Philolaches, good day to you, most
friendly to me of all men.

PHILO. May the Gods bless you. (_Pointing to a couch._) Take your place,
Callidamates. (_He takes his place._) Whence are you betaking yourself?

CALL. Whence a drunken man _does_.

PHILO. Well said. But, my Delphium, do take your place, there's a dear.
(_She takes her place on a couch._)

CALL. Give her something to drink. I shall go to sleep directly. (_Nods
and goes to sleep._)

PHILO. He doesn't do anything wonderful or strange. What shall I do with
him then, my dear?

DEL. Let him alone just as he is.

PHILO. Come, you _boy_. Meanwhile, speedily pass the goblet round,
beginning with Delphium.

[Footnote 1: _You to come for me_)--Ver. 306. Though none of the
Editions say so, it is not improbable that this is said to Phaniscus,
who, in the sequel, comes to fetch Callidamates home. The duties of the
"adversitor" have been alluded to in a previous Note.]


SCENE V.--_Enter_ TRANIO, _at a distance._

TRA. (_to himself_). Supreme Jove, with all his might and resources, is
seeking for me and Philolaches, my master's son, to be undone. Our
hopes are destroyed; nowhere is there any hold for courage; not _even_
Salvation [1] _now_ could save us if she wished. Such an immense
mountain of woe have I just now seen at the harbour: my master has
arrived from abroad; Tranio is undone! (_To the_ AUDIENCE.) Is there
any person who'd like to make gain of a little money, who could this
day endure to take my place in being tortured? Where are those fellows
hardened to a flogging, the wearers-out of iron chains, or those, who,
for the consideration of three didrachms, would get beneath besieging
towers [2], where some are in the way of having their bodies pierced
with fifteen spears? I'll give a talent to that man who shall be the
first to run to the cross _for me_; but on condition that twice his
feet, twice his arms [3] are fastened there. When that shall have been
done, then ask the money down of me. But am I not a wretched fellow, not
at full speed to be running home?

PHILO. Here come the provisions; see, here's Tranio; he's come back from
the harbour.

TRA. (_running_). Philolaches!

PHILO. What's the matter? TRA. Both I and you--

PHILO. What about "Both I and you?"

TRA. Are undone!

PHILO. Why so? TRA. Your father's here.

PHILO. What is it I hear of you?

TRA. We are finished up. Your father's come, I say.

PHILO. (_starting up._) Where is he, I do entreat you?

TRA. He's coming.

PHILO. Coming? Who says so? Who has seen him?

TRA. I saw him myself, I tell you.

PHILO. Woe unto me! what am I about?

TRA. Why the plague now do you ask me, what you are about? Taking your
place at table, _of course_.

PHILO. Did you see him? TRA. I my own self, I tell you.

PHILO. For certain? TRA. For certain, I tell you.

PHILO. I'm undone, if you are telling the truth.

TRA. What good could it be to me if I told a lie?

PHILO. What shall I do now?

TRA. (_pointing to the table and couches_). Order all these things to be
removed from here. (_Pointing._) Who's that asleep there?

PHILO. Callidamates. TRA. Arouse him, Delphium.

DEL. (_bawling out in his ear_). Callidamates! Callidamates! awake!
CALL. (_raising himself a little_). I am awake; give me something to
drink.

DEL. Awake; the father of Philolaches has arrived from abroad. CALL. I
_hope_ his father's well.

PHILO. He is well indeed; but I am utterly undone.

CALL. You, utterly undone? How can that be?

PHILO. By heavens! do get up, I beg of you; my father has arrived.

CALL. Your father has come? Bid him go back again. What business had he
to come back here so soon?

PHILO. What am I to do? My father will, just now, be coming and
unfortunately finding me amid drunken carousals, _and_ the house full
of revellers and women. It's a shocking bad job, to be digging a well at
the last moment, just when thirst has gained possession of your throat;
just as I, on the arrival of my father, wretch that I am, am now
enquiring what I am to do.

TRA. (_pointing at_ CALLIDAMATES). Why look, he has laid down his head
and gone to sleep. Do arouse him.

PHILO. (_shaking him_). Will you awake now? My father, I tell you, will
be here this instant.

CALL. How say you? Your father? Give me my shoes, that I may take up
arms. On my word, I'll kill your father this instant.

PHILO. (_seizing hold of him_). You're spoiling the _whole_ business;
do hold your tongue. (_To_ DELPHIUM.) Prithee, do carry him off in your
arms into the house.

CALL. (_To_ DELPHIUM, _who is lifting him up_). Upon my faith, I'll be
making an utensil of you just now, if you don't find me one. (_He is led
off into the house._)

PHILO. I'm undone!

TRA. Be of good courage; I'll cleverly find a remedy for this alarm.
PHILO. I'm utterly ruined!

TRA. Do hold your tongue; I'll think of something by means of which to
alleviate this for you. Are you satisfied, if on his arrival I shall so
manage your father, not only that he shall not enter, but even that he
shall run away to a distance from the house? Do you only be off from
here in-doors, and remove these things from here with all haste.

PHILO. Where am I to be? TRA. Where you especially desire: with
her (_pointing to_ PHILEMATIUM); with this girl, _too_, you'll be.
(_Pointing to_ DELPHIUM.)

DEL. How then? Are we to go away from here?

TRA. Not far from here, Delphium. For carouse away in the house not a
bit the less on account of this.

PHILO. Ah me! I'm in a sweat with fear as to how these fine words are to
end! TRA. Can you not be tranquil in your mind, and do as I bid you?

PHILO. I can be. TRA. In the first place of all, Philematium, do you go
in-doors; and you, Delphium.

DEL. We'll both be obedient to you. (_They go into the house._)

TRA. May Jupiter grant it so! Now then, do you give attention as to what
I'd have attended to. In the first place, then, before anything, cause
the house to be shut up at once. Take care and don't let any one whisper
a word in-doors.

PHILO. Care shall be taken. TRA. Just as though no living being were
dwelling within the house.

PHILO. Very well. TRA. And let no one answer, when the old gentleman
knocks at the door.

PHILO. Anything else?

TRA. Order the master-key [4] of the house to be brought me at once from
within; this house I'll lock here on the outside.

PHILO. To your charge I commit myself, Tranio, and my hopes. (_He goes
into the house, and the things are removed from the stage._)

TRA. (_to himself_). It matters not a feather whether a patron or a
dependant is the nearest at hand for that man who has got no courage in
his breast. For to every man, whether very good or very bad, even at a
moment's notice, it is easy to act with craft; but this must be looked
to, this is the duty of a prudent man, that what has been planned and
done in craftiness, may all come about smoothly and without mishap; so
that he may not have to put up with anything by reason of which he might
be loth to live; just as I shall manage, that, from the confusion which
we shall here create, all shall really go on smoothly and tranquilly,
and not produce us any inconvenience in the results. (_Enter a_ BOY,
_from the house._) But, why have you come out? I'm undone! (_The_
BOY _shows him the key._) O very well, you've obeyed my orders most
opportunely.

BOY. He bade me most earnestly to entreat you some way or other to scare
away his father, that he may not enter the house.

TRA. Even more, tell him this, that I'll cause that he shan't venture
even to look at the house, _and_ to take to flight, covering up his head
[5] with the greatest alarm. Give me the key (_taking it_), and be off
in-doors, and shut to the door, and I'll lock it on this side. (_The_
BOY _goes into the house, and_ TRANIO _locks the door._) Bid him now
come forthwith. For the old gentleman here while still alive this day
will I institute games [6] in his presence, such as I fancy there will
never be for him when he's dead. (_Moving away._) I'll go away from the
door to this spot; hence, I'll look out afar in which direction to
lay the burden on the old fellow on his arrival. (_Exit to a little
distance._)

[Footnote 1: _Not even Salvation_)--Ver. 342. See the Captivi, 1. 535,
and the Note to the passage.]

[Footnote 2: _Beneath besieging towers_)--Ver 348. "Falae" were wooden
towers, placed on the top of walls or fortified places; of course the
attack of these would imply extreme danger to those who attempted it.]

[Footnote 3: _Twice his feet, twice his arms_)--Ver. 351. Some suppose
that by "bis pedes, bis brachia," he means that two nails were to be
driven into each leg and foot. It seems more probable that he means two
for the feet and two for the hands.]

[Footnote 4: _Order the master-key_)--Ver. 395. "Clavem--Laconicam;"
literally, "the Laconian key." This was a kind of key originally
invented by the Spartans, by means of which a door could be locked from
the outside, but not from within. According to some, this key was called
"Laconica," from its rough appearance, in allusion to the inelegant
exterior of the Spartans. In his Thesmophoriazusae, Aristophanes informs
us that these keys had three wards.]

[Footnote 5: _Covering up his head_)--Ver. 414. With the ancients, when
either ashamed or alarmed at anything, it was the custom to throw a part
of the dress over the head, as a hood.]

[Footnote 6: _Will I institute games_)--Ver. 417. He plays on the double
meaning of "ludes," which means either "tricks," or "funeral games" in
honor of the dead, according to the context.]


ACT II.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ THEUROPIDES, _followed by_ ATTENDANTS.

THEU. (_to himself_). Neptune, I do return extreme thanks to thee that
thou hast just dismissed me from thee, _though_ scarce alive. But if,
from this time forward, thou shalt only know that I have stirred a foot
upon the main, there is no reason why, that instant, thou shouldst not
do with me that which thou hast now wished to do. Away with you, away
with you from me henceforth for ever after to-day; what I was to entrust
to thee, all of it have I _now_ entrusted.

_Enter_ TRANIO, _overhearing him._

TRA. (_apart_). By my troth, Neptune, you've been much to blame, to have
lost this opportunity so fair.

THEU. After three years, I've arrived home from Aegypt. I shall come a
welcome _guest_ to my household, I suppose.

TRA. (_apart_). Upon my faith, he might have come a much more welcome
one, who had brought the tidings you were dead.

THEU. (_looking at the door_). But what means this? Is the door shut in
the daytime? I'll knock. (_Knocks at the door._) Hallo, there! is any
one going to open this door for me?

TRA. (_coming forward, and speaking aloud_). What person is it that has
come _so_ near to our house?

THEU. Surely this is my servant Tranio.

TRA. O Theuropides, my master, welcome; I'm glad that you've arrived in
safety. Have you been well all along?

THEU. All along, as you see.

TRA. That's very good.

THEU. What about yourselves? Are you _all_ mad?

TRA. Why so?

THEU. For this reason; because you are walking about outside; not a
born person is keeping watch in the house, either to open or to give an
answer. With kicking with my feet I've almost broken in the panels?

TRA. How now? Have you been touching this house?

THEU. Why shouldn't I touch it? Why, with kicking it, I tell you, I've
almost broken down the door.

TRA. What, you touched it?

THEU. I touched it, I tell you, and knocked at it.

TRA. Out upon you! THEU. Why so?

TRA. By heavens! 'twas ill done.

THEU. What is the matter? TRA. It cannot be expressed, how shocking and
dreadful a mischief you've been guilty of.

THEU. How so?

TRA. Take to flight, I beseech you, and get away from the house. Fly in
this direction, fly closer to me. (_He runs towards_ TRANIO.) What, did
you touch the door?

THEU. How could I knock, if I didn't touch it?

TRA. By all that's holy, you've been the death--

THEU. Of what person? TRA. Of all your family.

THEU. May the Gods and Goddesses confound you with that omen.

TRA. I'm afraid that you can't make satisfaction for yourself and them.

THEU. For what reason, or what new affair is this that you _thus_
suddenly bring me _news of_?

TRA. And (_whispering_) hark you, prithee, do bid those people to move
away from here. (_Pointing to the_ ATTENDANTS _of_ THEUROPIDES.)

THEU. (_to the_ ATTENDANTS). More away from here.

TRA. Don't you touch the house. Touch you the ground [1]

as well. (_Exeunt the_ ATTENDANTS.

THEU. I' faith, prithee, do speak out now.

TRA. Because it is now seven months that not a person has set foot
within this house, _and_ since we once for all left it.

THEU. Tell me, why so?

TRA. Just look around, whether there's any person to overhear our
discourse.

THEU. (_looking around_). All's quite safe.

TRA. Look around once more.

THEU. (_looking around_). There's nobody; now then, speak out. TRA. (_in
a loud whisper_). The house has been guilty of a capital offence [2].

THEU. I don't understand _you_. TRA. A crime, tell you, has
been committed _there_, a long while ago, one of olden time and ancient
date.

THEU. Of ancient date?

TRA. 'Tis but recently, in fact, that we've discovered this deed.

THEU. What is this crime, or who committed it? Tell me.

TRA. A host slew his guest, seized with his hand: he, I fancy, who sold
you the house.

THEU. Slew _him_?

TRA. And robbed this guest of his gold, and buried this guest there in
the house, on the spot.

THEU. For what reason do you suspect that this took place?

TRA. I'll tell _you_; listen. _One day_, when your son had dined away
from home, after he returned home from dining; we all went to bed, _and_
fell asleep. By accident, I had forgotten to put out my lamp; and he,
all of a sudden, called out aloud--

THEU. What person? My son?

TRA. Hist! hold your peace: just listen. He said that a dead man came to
him in his sleep--

THEU. In his dreams, then, you mean?

TRA. Just so. But only listen. He said that he had met with his death by
these means--

THEU. _What_, in his sleep?

TRA. It would have been surprising if he had told him awake, who had
been murdered sixty years ago. On some occasions you are absurdly
simple. But look what he said: "I am the guest of Diapontius, from
beyond the seas; here do I dwell; this has been assigned me as my abode;
for Oreus would not receive me in Acheron, because prematurely I lost my
life. Through confiding was I deceived: my entertainer slew me here, and
that villain secretly laid me in the ground without funereal rites, in
this house, on the spot, for the sake of gold. Now do you depart from
here; this house is accursed, _this_ dwelling is defiled." The wonders
that here take place, hardly in a year could I recount them. Hush, hush!
(_He starts._)

THEU. Troth now, what has happened, prithee?

TRA. The door made a noise. Was it he that was knocking?

THEU. (_turning pale_). I have not _one_ drop of blood! Dead men are
come to fetch me to Acheron, while alive!

TRA. (_aside_). I'm undone! those people there will mar my plot. (_A
noise is heard from within._) How much I dread, lest he should catch me
in the fact.

THEU. What are you talking about to yourself? (_Goes near the door._)

TRA. Do get away from the door. By heavens, fly, I do beseech you.

THEU. Fly where? Fly yourself, as well.

TRA. I am not afraid: I am at peace with the dead.

A VOICE (_from within_). Hallo! Tranio [3].

TRA. (_in a low voice, near the door_). You won't be calling me, if you
are wise. (_Aloud, as if speaking to the_ APPARITION.) 'Tis not I that's
guilty; I did not knock at the door.

THEU. Pray, what is it that's wrong? What matter is agitating you,
Tranio? To whom are you saying these things?

TRA. Prithee, was it you that called me? So may the Gods bless me, I
fancied it was this dead man expostulating because you had knocked at
the door. But are you still standing there, and not doing what I advise
you?

THEU. What am I to do? TRA. Take care not to look back. Fly; cover up
your head!

THEU. Why don't you fly?

TRA. I am at peace with the dead.

THEU. I recollect. Why then were you so dreadfully alarmed just now?

TREA. Have no care for me, I tell you; I'll see to myself. You, as you
have begun _to do_, fly as quick as ever you can; Hercules, too [4], you
will invoke.

THEU. Hercules, I do invoke thee! (_Runs off._)

TRA. (_to himself._) And I, as well, old fellow, that this day he'll
send some heavy mishap upon you. O ye immortal Gods, I do implore your
aid. Plague on it! what a mess I have got into to-day. (_Exit._

[Footnote 1: _Touch you the ground_)--Ver. 457. The ancients were in the
habit of reverentially touching the earth, when engaged in any affairs
that related to the dead or the infernal Deities.]

[Footnote 2: _Guilty of a capital offence_)--Ver. 464. "Capitalis aedes
facta est;" meaning that a murder had been committed in it.]

[Footnote 3: _Hallo! Tranio_)--Ver. 502. Weise's Edition gives these
words to Theuropides. Rost, no doubt rightly, suggests that these words
are spoken by Philolaches from inside (perhaps in a low voice, to ask
Tranio how matters are going on). On this, Tranio turns it to good
account, by pretending that the Ghost is calling out to him for his
supposed impiety in daring to knock at the door.]

[Footnote 4: _Hercules, too_)--Ver. 514. Hercules having slain so
many monsters, was naturally regarded as a Deity likely to give aid in
extreme danger.]


ACT III.--SCENE I.

_Enter a_ BANKER, _at the end of the stage._

BAN. (_to himself_). I never knew any year worse for money upon
interest, than this year has turned out to me. From morning even until
night, I spend my time in the Forum; I cannot lend out a coin of silver
to any one.

_Enter_ TRANIO.

TRA. (_apart_). Now, faith, I am clearly undone in an everlasting
way! The Banker's here who found the money with which his mistress was
bought. The matter's all out, unless I meet him a bit beforehand, so
that the old man may not at present come to know of this. I'll go meet
him. But (_seeing_ THEUROPIDES) I wonder why he has so soon betaken
himself homeward _again_. I'm afraid that he has heard something
about this affair. I'll meet him, and accost him. But how dreadfully
frightened I am! Nothing is more wretched than the mind of a man with a
_guilty_ conscience, such as possesses myself. But however this matter
turns out, I'll proceed to perplex it still further: so does this affair
require.

_Enter_ THEUROPIDES.

TRA. (_accosting him_). Whence come you?

THEU. I met that person from whom I bought this house.

TRA. Did you tell him anything about that which I was telling you?

THEU. I' faith, I certainly told him everything.

TRA. (_aside_). Woe to unfortunate me! I'm afraid that my schemes are
everlastingly undone!

THEU. What is it you are saying to yourself?

TRA. Why nothing. But tell me, prithee, did you _really_ tell him?

THEU. I told him everything in its order, I tell you.

TRA. Does he, then, confess about the guest?

THEU. Why no; he utterly denies it.

TRA. Does he deny it?

THEU. Do you ask me again? I should tell you if he had confessed it.
What now are you of opinion ought to be done?

TRA. What is my opinion? By my troth, I beg of you, appoint an
arbitrator together with him; but take you care that you appoint one who
will believe me; you'll overcome him as easily as a fox eats a pear [1]

BAN. (_to himself_). But see, here's Tranio, the servant of Philolaches,
_people_ who pay me neither interest nor principal on my money. (_Goes
towards_ TRANIO, _who steps forward to meet him._)

THEU. (_to_ TRANIO). Whither are you betaking yourself?

TRA. I'm going no whither. (_Aside._) For sure, I am a wretch, a rascal,
one born with all the Gods my foes! He'll now be accosting me in the old
man's presence. Assuredly, I am a wretched man; in such a fashion both
this way and that do they find business for me. But I'll make haste and
accost him. (_Moves towards the_ BANKER.)

BAN. (_apart_). He's coming towards me. I'm all right; I've some hopes
of my money; he's smiling.

TRA. (_to himself_). The fellow's deceived. (_To the_ BANKER.) I
heartily bid you hail, my _friend_ Saturides [2].

BAN. And hail to you. What about the money?

TRA. Be off with you, will you, you brute. Directly you come, you
commence the attack [3] against me.

BAN. (_apart_). This fellow's empty-handed.

TRA. (_overhearing him_). This fellow's surely a conjurer.

BAN. But why don't you put an end to this trifling?

TRA. Tell me, then, what it is you want.

BAN. Where is Philolaches?

TRA. You never could have met me more opportunely than you have met me.
BAN. How's that?

TRA. (_taking him aside_). Step this way.

BAN. (_aloud_). Why isn't the money repaid me?

TRA. I know that you have a good voice; don't bawl out so loud. BAN.
(_aloud_). I' faith, I certainly shall bawl out.

TRA. O, do humour me _now_.

BAN. What do you want me to humour you in?

TRA. Prithee, be off hence home.

BAN. Be off? TRA. Return here about mid-day.

BAN. Will the interest be paid then?

TRA. It will be paid. Be off.

BAN. Why should I run to and fro here, or use or waste my pains? What if
I remain here until mid-day in preference?

TRA. Why no; be off home. On my word, I'm telling the truth. Only do be
off.

BAN. (_aloud_). Then do you pay me my interest. Why do you trifle _with
me_ this way?

TRA. Bravo! faith. Really now, do be off; do attend to me.

BAN. (_aloud_). I' faith, I'll call him now by name.

TRA. Bravo! stoutly done! Really you are _quite_ rich now when you bawl
out.

BAN. (_aloud_). I'm asking for my own. In this way you've been
disappointing me for these many days past. If I'm troublesome, give me
back the money; I'll go away _then_: That expression [4] puts an end to
all replies.

TRA. (_pretending to offer it him_). _Then_, take the principal [5].

BAN. (_aloud_). Why no, the interest; I want that first.

TRA. What? Have you, you fellow most foul of all fellows, come here to
burst yourself? Do what lies in your power. He's not going to pay you;
he doesn't owe it.

BAN. Not owe it?

TRA. Not a tittle, indeed, can you get from here. Would you prefer for
him to go abroad, _and_ leave the city in exile, driven hence for your
sake? Why then, in preference let him pay the [6] principal.

BAN. But I don't ask for it.

THEU. (_calling out to_ TRANIO,_from a distance_). Hark you! you
whip-knave, come back to me.

TRA. (_to_ THEUROPIDES). I'll be there just now. (_To the_ BANKER.)
Don't you be troublesome: no one's going to pay you; do what you please.
You are the only person, I suppose, that lends money upon interest.
(_Moves towards_ THEUROPIDES.)

BAN. (_bawling aloud_). Give me my interest! pay me my interest! you pay
my interest! Are you going to give me my interest this instant? Give me
my interest!

TRA. Interest here, interest there! The old rogue knows how to talk
about nothing but interest. I do not think that ever I saw any beast
more vile than you.

BAN. Upon my faith, you don't alarm me now with those expressions. This
is of a hot nature; although it is at a distance off, it scorches badly
[7].

TRA. Don't you be troublesome; no one's going to pay you; do what
you please. You are the only person, I suppose, that lends money upon
interest.

THEU. (_to_ TRANIO). Pray, what interest is this that he is asking for?

TRA. (_in a low voice, to the_ BANKER). Look now; his father has arrived
from abroad, not long since; he'll pay you both, interest and principal;
don't you then attempt any further to make us your enemies. See whether
he puts you off.

BAN. Nay but, I'll take it, if anything's offered.

THEU. (_to_ TRANIO, _coming towards him_). What do you say, _then_--?
TRA. What is it you mean?

THEU. Who is this? What is he asking for? Why is he thus rudely speaking
of my son Philolaches in this way, and giving you abuse to your face?
What's owing him?

TRA. (_to_ THEUROPIDES). I beg of you, do order the money to be thrown
in the face of this dirty brute.

THEU. I, order it?

TRA. Order the fellow's face to be pelted with money.

BAN. (_coming nearer_). I could very well put up with a pelting with
money.

THEU. (_to_ TRANIO). What money's this?

TRA. Philolaches owes this person a little.

THEU. How much?

TRA. About forty minae.

BAN. (_to_ THEUROPIDES). Really, don't think much of that; it's a
trifle, in fact.

TRA. Don't you hear him? Troth now, prithee, doesn't he seem just suited
to be a Banker--a generation that's most roguish?

THEU. I don't care, just now, for that, who he is _or_ whence he is;
this I want to be told me, this I very much wish to know--I heard from
him that there was interest owing on the money as well.

TRA. Forty-four minae are due to him. Say that you'll pay it, that he
may be off.

THEU. I, say that I'll pay it?

TRA. Do say so.

THEU. What, I?

TRA. You yourself. Do only say so. Do be guided by me. Do promise. Come
now, I say; I beg of you.

THEU. Answer me; what has been done with this money?

TRA. It's safe.

THEU. Pay it yourselves then, if it's safe.

TRA. Your son has bought a house.

THEU. A house?

TRA. A house.

THEU. Bravo! Philolaches is taking after his father! The fellow now
turns to merchandize. A house, say you?

TRA. A house, I tell you. But do you know of what sort?

THEU. How can I know?

TRA. Out with you!

THEU. What's the matter?

TRA. Don't ask me _that_.

THEU. But why so?

TRA. Bright as a mirror, pure brilliancy _itself_.

THEU. Excellently done, upon my faith! Well, how much did he agree to
give for it?

TRA. As many great talents as you and I _put together_ make; but these
forty minae he paid by way of earnest. (_Pointing to the_ BANKER.) From
him he received what we paid the other man. Do you quite understand? [8]
For after this house was in such a state as I mentioned to you, he at
once purchased another house for himself.

THEU. Excellently done, upon my faith!

BAN. (_touching_ TRANIO). Hark _you_. Mid-day is now close at hand.

TRA. Prithee, do dismiss this puking fellow, that he mayn't worry us to
death. Forty-four minae are due to him, both principal and interest.

BAN. 'Tis just that much; I ask for nothing more.

TRA. Upon my faith, I really could have wished that you had asked more,
_if only_ by a single coin.

THEU. (_to the_ BANKER). Young man, transact the business with me.

BAN. I'm to ask it of you, you mean?

THEU. Come for it to-morrow.

BAN. I'll be off, _then_; I'm quite satisfied if I get it tomorrow.

(_Exit_

TRA. (_aside_). A plague may all the Gods and Goddesses send upon him!
so utterly has he disarranged my plans. On my word, no class of men is
there more disgusting, or less _acquainted_ with fair dealing than the
banking _race_.

THEU. In what neighbourhood did my son buy this house?

TRA. (_aside_). Just see that, now! I'm undone!

THEU. Are you going to tell me that which I ask you?

TRA. I'll tell you; but I'm thinking what was the name of the owner.
(_Pretends to think._)

THEU. Well, call it to mind, then.

TRA. (_aside_). What am I to do now, except _put_ the lie upon this
neighbour of ours next door? I'll say that his son has bought that
house. I' faith, I've heard say that a lie piping-hot is the best _lie_;
this is piping-hot; although it is at a distance off, it scorches badly.
Whatever the Gods dictate, that am I determined to say.

THEU. Well now? Have you recollected it by this?

TRA. (_aside_). May the Gods confound that fellow!--no, this _other_
fellow, rather. (_To_ THEUROPIDES.) Your son has bought the house of
this next-door neighbour _of yours_.

THEU. In real truth?

TRA. If, indeed, you are going to pay down the money, then in real
_truth_; if you are not going to pay it, in real truth he has not bought
it.

THEU. He hasn't bought it in a very good situation.

TRA. Why yes, in a very good one.

THEU. I' faith, I should like to look over this house; just knock at the
door, and call some one to you from within, Tranio.

TRA. (_aside_). Why just look now, again I don't know what I'm to say.
Once more, now, are the surges bearing me upon the self-same rock. What
now? I' faith, I can't discover what I am now to do; I'm caught in the
fact.

THEU. Just call some one out of doors; ask him to show us round.

TRA. (_going to the door of_ SIMO's _house_). Hallo there, you!
(_Turning round_.) But there are ladies here; we must first see whether
they are willing or unwilling.

THEU. You say what's good and proper; just make enquiry, and ask. I'll
wait here outside until you come out.

TRA. (_aside_). May all the Gods and Goddesses utterly confound you, old
gentleman! in such a fashion are you thwarting my artful plans in every
way. Bravo! very good! Look, Simo himself, the owner of the house, is
coming out of doors. I'll step aside here, until I have convened the
senate of council in my mind. Then, when I've discovered what I am to
do, I'll join him. (THEUROPIDES _and_ TRANIO _stand at a distance
from_ SIMO's _house, in opposite directions_, THEUROPIDES _being out of
sight_.)

[Footnote 1: _As a fox eats a pear_)--Ver. 543. This may either mean,
very easily indeed, or not at all. It is not clear that a fox will eat a
pear; but if does, his teeth will go through it with the greatest ease.
Not improbably, Tranio uses the expression for its ambiguity.]

[Footnote 2: _Friend Saturides_)--Ver. 552. A nickname coined by the
author, from "satur," "brimful," of money, probably.]

[Footnote 3: _Commence the attack_)--Ver. 564. "Pilum injecisti."
Literally, "you have thrown the dart." "To throw the dart" was a common
expression, signifying to make the first attack;" as the darts were
thrown before recourse was had to the sword.]

[Footnote 4: _That expression_)--Ver. 574. By "hoc verbum" he probably
alludes to the expression, "reddite argentum," "down with the money."]

[Footnote 5: _Take the principal_)--Ver. 575. He finds he must say
something, so he says this, although he has no money with him. He knows,
however, that the usurer will first insist on the interest being paid,
because if he takes the principal, it will be a legal waver of his right
to claim the interest.]

[Footnote 6: _Let him pay the_)--Ver. 581. "Quin sortem potius dare
licet?" is the reading here, in Weise's Edition; but the line seems
hopelessly incorrect.]

[Footnote 7: _It scorches badly_)--Ver. 592. This line is given by
Gruter to Theuropides, by Acidalius to Tranio, and by Lambinus to
the Banker. The latter seems the most appropriate owner of it; and he
probably alludes, aside, to the effects of his pressing in a loud voice
for the money. Tranio is introduced as using the same expression, in
l.650; but there can be no doubt that the line, as there inserted, is
spurious.]

[Footnote 8: _Do you quite understand_)--Ver. 629. Warner suggests, that
by using this expression before the Banker, he intends to make a secret
of the house being haunted, and that he keeps up the mystery in the
succeeding line.]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ SIMO, _from his house_.

SIM. (_to himself_). I've not enjoyed myself better at home this year
_than I have to-day_, nor has at any time any meal pleased me better.
My wife provided a very nice breakfast for me; now she bids me go take
a nap. By no means! It instantly struck me that _it didn't so happen_
by chance. She provided a better breakfast than is her wont; _and then_,
the old lady wanted to draw me away to my chamber. Sleep is not good [1]
after breakfast--out upon it! I secretly stole away from the house, out
of doors. My wife, I'm sure, is now quite bursting _with rage_ at home.

TRA. (_apart_). A sore mischance is provided for this old fellow by the
evening; for he must both dine and go to bed in-doors in sorry fashion.

SIM. (_continuing_). The more I reflect upon it in my mind: if any
person has a dowried _wife_, sleep has no charms for him. I detest going
to take a nap. It's a settled matter with me to be off to the Forum from
here, rather than nap it at home. And, i' faith (_to the_ AUDIENCE), I
don't know how your _wives_ are in their behaviour; this _wife of mine_,
I know right well how badly she treats me, _and_ that she will prove
more annoying to me hereafter than she has been.

TRA. (_apart_). If your escape, old gentleman, turns out amiss, there'll
be no reason for you to be accusing any one of the Gods; by very good
right, you may justly lay the blame upon yourself. It's time now for me
to accost this old fellow. 'Tis down upon him. [2] I've hit upon a plan
whereby to cajole the old fellow, by means of which to drive grief [3]
away from me. I'll accost him. (_Accosting him_.) May the Gods, Simo,
send on you many blessings! (_Takes him by the hand_.)

SIM. Save you, Tranio! TRA. How fare you?

SIM. Not amiss. What are you about?

TRA. Holding _by the hand_ a very worthy man.

SIM. You act in a friendly way, in speaking well of me.

TRA. It certainly is your due.

SIM. But, i' faith, in you I don't hold a good servant _by the hand_.

THEU. (_calling from a distance, where he is not perceived by_ SIMO).
Hark you! you whip-knave, come back to me.

TRA. (_turning round_). I'll be there just now.

SIM. Well now, how soon--?

TRA. What is it? SIM. The usual goings-on.

TRA. Tell me then, these usual goings-on, what are they?

SIM. The way that you _yourselves_ proceed. But, Tranio, to say
the truth, according as men are, it so befits you to humour them;
reflecting, at the same time, how short life is.

TRA. What _of all this_? Dear me, at last, after some difficulty,

I perceive that you are talking about these goings-on of ours.

SIM. I' faith, you _people_ are living a merry life, just as befits you:
on wine, good cheer, nice dainty fish, you enjoy life.

TRA. Why yes, so it was in time past, indeed; _but_ now these things
have come to an end all at once. SIM. How so?

TRA. So utterly, Simo, are we all undone!

SIM. Won't you hold your tongue? Everything has gone on prosperously
with you hitherto.

TEA. I don't deny that it has been as you say; undoubtedly, we have
lived heartily, just as we pleased; but, Simo, in such a way has the
breeze now forsaken our ship--

SIM. What's the matter? In what way?

TRA. In a most shocking _way_.

SIM. What, wasn't it hauled ashore [4] in safety?

TRA. Ah me! SIM. What's the matter?

TRA. Ah wretched me! I'm utterly undone!

SIM. How so? TRA. Because a ship has come, to smash the hull of our
ship.

SIM. I would wish as you would wish, Tranio, _for your own sake_. But
what is the matter? Do inform me.

TRA. I will inform you. My master has arrived from abroad.

SIM. In that case, the cord will be stretched for you; thence to the
place where iron fetters clink; after that, straight to the cross.

TRA. Now, by your knees, I do implore you, don't give information to my
master.

SIM. Don't you fear; he shall know nothing from me.

TRA. Blessings on you, my patron.

SIM. I don't care for clients of this description for myself.

TRA. Now as to this about which our old gentleman has sent me.

SIM. First answer me this that I ask you. As yet, has your old gentleman
discovered anything of these matters?

TRA. Nothing whatever.

SIM. Has he censured his son at all?

TRA. He is as calm as the calm weather is wont to be. Now he has
requested me most earnestly to beg this of you, that leave may be given
him to see over this house of yours.

SIM. It's not for sale. TRA. I know that indeed; but the old gentleman
wishes to build a woman's apartment [5] here in his own house, baths,
too, and a piazza, and a porch.

SIM. What has he been dreaming of?

TRA. I'll tell you. He wishes to give his son a wife as soon as he can;
for that purpose he wants a new apartment for the women. But he says
that some builder, I don't know who, has been praising up to him this
_house of yours_, as being remarkably well built; now he's desirous to
take a model from it, if you don't make any objection--

SIM. Indeed, he is really choosing a plan for himself from a piece of
poor workmanship.

TRA. _It was_ because he heard that here the summer heat was much
modified; that this house was wont to be inhabited each day all day
long.

SIM. Why really, upon my faith, on the contrary, while there's shade
in every direction, in spite of it, the sun is always here from morning
till night: he stands, like a dun, continually at the door; and I have
no shade anywhere, unless, perhaps, there may be some in the well.

TRA. Well now, have you one from Sarsina, if you have no woman of Umbria
[6]?

SIM. Don't be impertinent. It is just as I tell you.

TRA. Still, he wishes to look over it.

SIM. He may look over it, if he likes. If there is anything that takes
his fancy, let him build after my plan.

TRA. Am I to go and call _this_ person hither?

SIM. Go _and_ call him.

TRA. (_to himself, as he goes to the other side of the stage to call_
THEUROPIDES). They say that Alexander the Great and Agathocles [7]
achieved two very great exploits; what shall be the lot of myself, a
third, who, unaided, am achieving deeds imperishable? This old fellow is
carrying his pack-saddle, the other one, as well. I've hit upon a novel
trade for myself, not a bad one; whereas muleteers have mules to carry
pack-saddles; I've got men to carry the pack-saddles. They are able
to carry heavy burdens; whatever you put upon them, they carry. Now,
I don't know whether I am to address him. I'll accost him, _however_.
(_Calling aloud._) Hark you, Theuropides!

THEU. (_coming forward_). Well; who's calling me?

TRA. A servant most attached to his master. Where you sent me, I got it
all agreed to.

THEU. Prithee, why did you stay there so long?

TRA. The old gentleman hadn't leisure; I was waiting until then.

THEU. You keep up that old way of yours, of being tardy.

TRA. Hark you! if you please reflect upon this proverb: to blow and
swallow [8] at the same moment isn't easy to be done; I couldn't be here
and there at the same time.

THEU. What now?

TRA. Come and look, and inspect it at your own pleasure.

THEU. Very well, you go before me.

TRA. Am I delaying _to do so?_ THEU. I'll follow after you.

TEA. (_as they advance_). Look, the old gentleman himself is awaiting
you before the door, but he is concerned that he has sold this _house_.

THEU. Why so?

TRA. He begs me to persuade Philolaches to let him off.

THEU. I don't think _he will_. Each man reaps on his own farm [9]. If it
had been bought dear, we shouldn't have had permission to return it on
his hands. Whatever profit there is, it's proper to bring it home. It
don't, now-a-days, befit men to be showing compassion.

TRA. I' faith, you are losing time while you are talking. Follow _me_.

THEU. Be it so. TRA. (_to_ THEUROPIDES). I'll give you my services.
(_Pointing._) There's the old gentleman. (_To_ SIMO.) Well now, I've
brought you _this_ person.

SIM. I'm glad that you've arrived safely from abroad, Theuropides. THEU.
May the Gods bless you.

SIM. Your servant was telling me that you were desirous to look over
this house.

THEU. Unless it's inconvenient to you.

SIM. Oh no; _quite_ convenient. Do step in-doors and look over it. THEU.
(_pausing_). But yet--the ladies--

SIM. Take you care not to trouble yourself a straw about any lady.
Walk in every direction, wherever you like, all over the house, just as
though it were your own.

THEU. (_apart to_ TRANIO). "Just as though--?"

TRA. (_whispering_). Oh, take care that you don't throw it in his teeth
now in his concern, that you have bought it. Don't you see him, how sad
a countenance the old gentleman has?

THEU. (_apart_). I see. TRA. (_apart_). Then don't seem to exult, and to
be overmuch delighted; _in fact_, don't make mention that you've bought
it.

THEU. (_apart_). I understand; and I think you've given good advice, and
that it shows a humane disposition. (_Turning to_ SIMO.) What now?

SIM. Won't you go in? Look over it at your leisure, just as you like.

THEU. I consider that you are acting civilly and kindly.

SIM. Troth, I wish to do so. Should you like some one to show you over.

THEU. Away with any one to show [10] me over. I don't want him. SIM.
Why? What's the matter?

THEU. I'll go wrong, rather than any one should show me over.

TRA. (_pointing_). Don't you see, this vestibule before the house, and
the piazza, of what a compass it is?

THEU. Troth, really handsome!

TRA. Well, look _now_, what pillars there are, with what strength they
are built, and of what a thickness.

THEU. I don't think that I _ever_ saw handsomer pillars.

SIM. I' faith, they were some time since bought by me at such a price!

TRA. (_aside, whispering_). Don't you hear--"They were _once"?_ He seems
hardly able to refrain from tears.

THEU. At what price did you purchase them?

SIM. I gave three minae for the two, besides the carriage. (_He retires
to some distance._)

THEU. (_after looking close at them, to_ TRANIO). Why, upon my word,
they are much more unsound than I thought them at first.

TRA. Why so? THEU. Because, i' faith, the woodworm has split them both
from the bottom.

TRA. I think they were cut at an improper season; that fault damages
them; but even as it is, they are quite good enough, if they are covered
with pitch. But it was no foreign pulse-eating artisan [11] did this
work. Don't you see the joints in the door? (_Pointing._)

THEU. I see them. TRA. Look, how close together they are sleeping.

THEU. Sleeping? TRA. That is, how they wink, I intended to say. Are you
satisfied?

THEU. The more I look at each particular, the more it pleases me.

TRA. (_pointing_). Don't you see the painting, where one crow [12] is
baffling two vultures? The crow stands there; it's pecking at them both
in turn. This way, look, prithee, towards me [13], that you may be able
to see the crow. (THEUROPIDES _turns towards him._) Now do you see it?

THEU. (_looking about_). For my part, I really see no crow there.

TRA. But do you look in that direction, towards yourselves, since you
cannot discover the crow, if perchance you may be able to espy the
vultures. (THEUROPIDES _turns towards_ SIMO.) Now do you see _them_?

THEU. Upon my faith, I don't see them.

TRA. But I _can see_ two vultures.

THEU. To make an end of it with you, I don't see any bird at all painted
here.

TRA. Well then, I give it up. I excuse you; it is through age you cannot
see.

THEU. These things which I can _see_, really they do all please me
mightily.

SIM. (_coming forward_). Now, at length, it's worth your while to move
further on. THEU. Troth, you give good advice.

SIM. (_calling at the door_). Ho there, boy! take _this person_ round
this house and the apartments. But I myself would have shown you round,
if I hadn't had business at the Forum.

THEU. Away with any one to show me over. I don't want to be shown over.
Whatever it is, I'd rather go wrong than any one should show me over.

SIM. The house I'm speaking of.

THEU. Then I'll go in without any one to show me over.

SIM. Go, by all means.

THEU. I'll go in-doors, then.

TRA. (_holding him back_). Stop, please; let me see whether the
dog--THEU. Very well then, look. (TRANIO _looks into the passage._)

TRA. There is one. THEU. (_looking in_). Where is it?

TRA. (_to the dog_). Be off and be hanged! 'St, won't you be off to
utter perdition with you? What, do you still linger? 'St, away with you
from here!

SIM. (_coming nearer to the door_). There's no danger. You only move on.
It's as gentle [14] as a woman in childbed. You may boldly step in-doors
wherever you like. I'm going hence to the Forum.

THEU. You've acted obligingly. Good speed to you! (_Exit_ SIMO.) Tranio,
come, make that dog move away from the door inside, although it isn't to
be feared.

TRA. Nay but (_pointing_), you look at it, how gently it lies. Unless
you'd like yourself to appear troublesome and cowardly--

THEU. Very well, just as you like.

TRA. Follow me this way then.

THEU. For my part, I shall not move in any direction from your feet.
(_They go into the house_.)

[Footnote 1: _Sleep is not good_)--Ver. 681. It was a custom with the
Romans to take a nap at noon, after the "prandium." The modern Italians
have the same practice, and call it the "siesta." Simo has his private
reasons for thinking that this nap is not wholesome in his own case.]

[Footnote 2: _Down upon him)_--Ver. 698. "Hoc habet." Literally, "he has
it;" a term used by the Spectators, when a gladiator received a wound at
the gladiatoral games.]

[Footnote 3: _By means of which to drive grief)_--Ver. 699. He plays
upon the resemblance of the words "dolo" and "dolorem."]

[Footnote 4: _Wasn't it hauled ashore_)--Vet. 723. It was the custom,
when ships were not in use, especially in the winter time, to draw them
up on chore, by means of rollers placed beneath them.]

[Footnote 5: _A woman's apartment_)--Ver. 741. "Gynaeceum." This was
a name borrowed from the Greeks, for the apartments in the house which
were especially devoted to the use of the females.]

[Footnote 6: _No woman of Umbria_)--Ver. 756. This is a poor pun upon
the different acceptations of the word "umbra," which may signify,
according to the context, "shade," or "a woman of Umbria." Simo means it
in the former, while Tranio chooses to take it in the latter sense. Simo
does not like this attempt at wit, and tells him not to be impertinent.
We may here observe, that Plautus was born at Sarsina, a town of
Umbria.]

[Footnote 7: _Agathocles_)--Ver. 761. Agathocles rose from the station
of a potter to be king of Sicily.]

[Footnote 8: _To blow and swallow_)--Ver. 777. Or "exhale and inhale."
A proverbial expression, very similar to that in use with us, that "a
person cannot blow hot and cold at the same time."]

[Footnote 9: _Reaps on his own farm_)--Ver. 785. A country proverb,
meaning "every one for himself."]

[Footnote 10: _Away with any one to show_)--Ver. 804. He says this, not
liking the mention of the word "perductor," which, beside meaning an
"attendant" or "one to escort," signifies a "pander" or "procurer."
So in the next line, "perducto" means "to show over" or "to act the
procurer."]

[Footnote 11: _ Foreign pulse-eating artisan_)--Ver. 817. From the use
of the word "pultiphagus," he probably alludes to Carthaginian workmen,
who were very skilful at working in wood. In the Poenulus, Hanno the
Carthaginian is called "patruus pultiphagonides," "the pulse-eating
kinsman." If this is the meaning, it is pretty clear that he is not
speaking in praise of the workmanship. Some, however, think that as,
in early times, the lower classes at Rome lived upon "puls," "pap" or
"pottage," the Scene being at Athens, Roman workmen are alluded to;
if so, he may mean to speak in praise of the work, and to say that no
bungling artists made the doors. See the Note in p. 355. The joints are
said to wink, from the close conjunction of the eyelids in the act of
winking.]

[Footnote 12: _Where one crow_)--Ver. 821. By the "crow," he means
himself; and by the "vultures," the two old men. Simo is probably
standing at some distance off; and knowing that his master's sight is
not good, he feels that he may deride him with impunity.]

[Footnote 13: _Towards me_)--Ver. 822. "Ad me." Theuropides thinks he
means, "in my direction;" whereas Tranio really means, "look 'at me,'
and you will see the crow;" though he does not intend that his master
shall take it in that sense.]

[Footnote 14: _It's as gentle_)--Ver. 840. This, probably, is intended
to refer to the statue of a dog lying down in the vestibule, and not
a real one. Pictures of dogs, with "cave canem" written beneath, were
sometimes painted on the wall near the door.]


ACT IV.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ PHANISCUS.

PHA. (_to himself_). Servants who, though they are free from fault,
still stand in awe of punishment, those same are wont to be serviceable
to their masters. But those who fear nothing, after they have merited
punishment, hit upon foolish plans for themselves: they exercise
themselves in running; they take to flight. But, if they are caught,
they acquire from punishment a hoard, which by good means they cannot.
They increase from a very little, _and_ from that they lay by a
treasure. The resolution that's in my mind is to be determined to be on
my guard against punishment, before my back comes to lose its state of
soundness. As hitherto it has been, so does it become my hide _still_ to
be, without a bruise, and such that I should decline its being beaten.
If I have any control over it, I shall keep it well covered up [1]. When
punishment is being showered down on others, don't let it be showered
down on me. But as servants wish their master to be, such is he wont to
be. He is good to the good, bad to the bad. But now at our house at home
there do live so many rogues, lavish of their property [2], bearers of
stripes. When they are called to go fetch their master, "I shan't go;
don't be plaguing _me_; I know where you are hurrying off to," _is the
reply_. "Now, faith, you mule, you're longing to go to pasturage out of
doors [3]." With better deserts, this advantage have I reaped from them,
_and_, in consequence, I have come from home. I alone, out of _so_ many
servants, am going to fetch my master. When, to-morrow, my master comes
to know this, in the morning he will chastise them with bull's-hide
spoils. In fine, I care less for their backs than for my own. Much
rather shall they be bull's-hide-scourged than I be rope-scourged [4].
(_Moves on._)

_Enter another_ SERVANT.

SER. Hold you and stop this instant. Phaniscus! look round, I say!

PHA. (_not turning round_). Don't be annoying to me.

SER. Do see how scornful the monkey is!

PHA. I am so for myself; I choose to be. Why do you trouble yourself
about it? (_Walking on._)

SER. Are you going to stop this instant, you dirty parasite? PHA.
(_turning round_). How am I a parasite?

SER. Why, I'll tell you: you can be drawn anywhere by victuals. Do you
give yourself airs, because your master's so fond _of you_?

PHA. (_rubbing his eyes_). O dear, my eyes do ache [5].

SER. Why so?

PHA. Because the smoke's _so_ troublesome.

SER. Hold your tongue, will you, _you clever_ workman, who are in the
habit of coining money out of lead [6].

PHA. You cannot compel me to be abusive to you. My master knows me.

SER. Why, really, his own pillow [7] he ought to know, _for resting on
when drunk_.

PHA. If you were sober, you wouldn't be abusive.

SER. Am I to give heed to you, when you won't to me?

PHA. But, you rascal, you come along with me to fetch him.

SER. Troth now, Phaniscus, prithee, do leave off talking about these
matters.

PHA. I'll do so, and knock at the door. (_Knocks at the door of the
house of_ THEUROPIDES.) Hallo there! is there any person here to protect
this door from a most serious injury? (_Knocking again._) Is any one,
is any one, I say, coming out here and going to open it? Why, really,
no one comes out here. Just as befits _such_ worthless fellows, so they
are. But on that account, I've the more need to be cautious that no one
may come out and use me ill. (_They stand aside._)

[Footnote 1: _Well covered up_)--Ver. 865. He alludes to the practice of
stripping disobedient slaves, for the purpose of flogging them.]

[Footnote 2: _Lavish of their property_)--Ver. 870. That is, of their
backs.]

[Footnote 3: _To pasturage out of doors_)--Ver. 876. This was probably a
proverbial phrase for going to the "thermopolium," the "hot liquor-shop"
or "tippling-house," so much frequented by the slaves. See the
Trinummus, 1. 1013, and the Note to the passage.]

[Footnote 4: _bull's-hide-scourged--rope-scourged_)--Ver. 882.
"Bucaedae--restio." The latter word properly signifies "a ropemaker."
The former is probably coined by Plautus.]

[Footnote 5: _My eyes do ache_)--Ver. 890. Phaniscus probably means to
say, that the sight of him is as annoying to his eyes as smoke can be.]

[Footnote 6: _Money out of lead_)--Ver. 892. According to Erasmus,
(Adagia Chil. v. Cent. 1,) this was a proverbial expression among the
Romans, signifying the ability to put on a specious appearance.]

[Footnote 7: _His own pillow_)--Ver. 894. There is an indelicate
allusion in this line; and another turn has been given to it in the
Translation.]


SCENE II.--_Enter_ TRANIO _and_ THEUROPIDES, _from the house of_ SIMO.

TRA. What's your opinion of this bargain?

THEU. I am quite delighted.

TRA. Does it seem to you to have been bought too dear?

THEU. I' faith, I'm sure that I never anywhere saw a house thrown away,
this one only excepted.

TRA. Does it please you, _then_?

THEU. Does it please me, do you ask me? Why yes, upon my faith, it
really does please me very much.

TRA. What a fine set of rooms for the women! What a porch!

THEU. Exceedingly fine. For my part, I don't think that there is any
_porch_ larger than this in the public buildings.

TRA. Why, I myself and Philolaches have taken the measure of all the
porches in the public buildings.

THEU. _Well_, what then?

TRA. _This_ is far larger than all of them.

THEU. Immortal Gods--a splendid bargain! On my word, if he were now to
offer six great talents of silver, ready money, for it, I would never
take it.

TRA. Upon my faith, if you were inclined to take it, I would never let
you.

THEU. My money has been well invested upon this purchase.

TRA. Boldly confess that by my advice and prompting it was done, who
urged him to take up the money of the Banker upon interest, which we
paid this person by way of deposit.

THEU. You've saved the whole ship. Eighty minae [1], you say, are owing
for it?

TRA. Not a coin more. THEU. He may have it to-day.

TRA. By all means so, that there may be no dispute arising; or else pay
them over to me, I'll then pay them over to him.

THEU. But still, don't let there be any taking me in, if I do give them
to you.

TRA. Could I venture to deceive you in deed or word even in jest only?

THEU. Could I venture not to be on my guard against you, so as not to
trust anything to you?

TRA. Why, have I ever imposed upon you in anything, since I was your
_servant_?

THEU. But I've taken good care _of that_; I owe thanks to myself and my
own judgment for that. If I'm only on my guard against you solely, I'm
quite wise enough.

TRA. (_aside_). I agree with you.

THEU. Now be off into the country; tell my son that I've arrived.

TRA. I'll do as you wish.

THEIU. Run with all speed; bid him come to the city at once together
with you.

TRA. Very well. (_Aside._) Now I'll betake myself this way by the
back-door to my boon-companions; I'll tell them that things are quiet
here, and how I have kept him away from here. (_Exit._

[Footnote 1: _Eighty minae_)--Ver. 919. Forty having been already paid
(according to his story) as a deposit, and there being 120 minae in two
talents.]


SCENE III.--THEUROPIDES, PHANISCUS, _and another_ SERVANT.

PHA. (_coming forward_). Really, I don't hear either the sound of
revellers here, as once it was, nor yet the music-girl singing, nor any
one else. (_Goes towards the door._)

THEU. What's the matter here? What are these people seeking at my house?
What do they want? What are they peeping in for?

PHA. I shall proceed to knock at the door. (_Knocks._)

Hallo there, unlock _the door_! Hallo, Tranio! are you going to open it,
I say?

THEU. (_advancing_). What story's this, _I wonder_?

PHA. (_aloud_). Are you going to open it, I say? I've come to fetch my
master Callidamates.

THEU. Harkye, you lads! what are you doing there? Why are you breaking
down that door?

PHA. Our master's at a drinking-party here.

THEU. Your master at a drinking-party here?

PHA. I say so.

THEU. You're carrying the joke too far _my_ lad.

PHA. We've come to fetch him.

THEU. What person? PHA. Our master. Prithee, how often must I tell you?

THEU. There's no one living here _my_ lad; for I do think that you are a
decent lad.

PHA. Doesn't a young gentleman _called_ Philolaches live in this house?

SER. (_aside_). This old fellow's crack-brained, surely.

PHA. You are entirely mistaken, respected sir [1]; for unless he moved
from here to-day or yesterday, I know for certain that he's living here.

THEU. Why, no one has been living here for these six months past.

SER. You are dreaming. THEU. What, I?

SER. You. THEU. Don't you be impertinent. Let me speak to the lad.
(_Pointing to_ PHANISCUS.)

PHA. No one lives _there_? O dear--

THEU. It's the fact.

PHA. Really! why, yesterday and the day before, four, five, six days
ago, all along, _in fact_, since his father went abroad from here,
eating and drinking have never ceased for a single three days here.

THEU. What is it you say?

PHA. That eating and drinking have never stopped for a single three days
here, bringing in wenches, living like Greeks, hiring harpists _and_
music-girls.

THEU. Who was it did this?

PHA. Philolaches. THEU. What Philolaches?

PHA. He whose father I take to be Theuropides.

THEU. (_apart_). O dear, O dear! I'm utterly undone, if he says the
truth in this. I'll continue to question him still. Do you say that
this Philolaches, whoever he is, has been in the habit of drinking here
together with your master?

PHA. Here, I tell you.

THEU. _My_ lad, contrary to your appearance, you are a fool. See now,
please, that you've not perchance been dropping in somewhere for an
afternoon's whet [2], and have been drinking there a little more than
was enough.

PHA. What do you mean? THEU. Just what I say; don't be going by mistake
to other persons' houses.

PHA. I know where I ought to go, and the place to which I was to come.
Philolaches lives here, whose father is Theuropides; and who, after his
father went away to trade, made free a music-girl here.

THEU. Philolaches, say you? PHA. Just so; Philematium, I mean.

THEU. For how much? SER. For thirty talents.

PHA. _No_, by Apollo [3]; you mean minae.

THEU. Do you say that a mistress was purchased for Philolaches for
thirty minae?

PHA. I do say so. THEU. And that he gave her her freedom?

PHA. I do say so. THEU. And that after his father had departed hence
abroad, he has been carousing here continually with your master?

PHA. I do say _so_. THEU. Well, has he made purchase of the house next
door here?

PHA. I don't say _so_. THEU. Has he given forty minae, too, to this
person, to be as a deposit?

PHA. Nor yet do I say _so_.

THEU. Ah me! you've proved my ruin!

PHA. Aye, and he has proved the ruin of his father.

THEU. You prophesy the truth! I could wish it false!

PHA. A friend of his father, I suppose?

THEU. Ah me! Upon my faith, you do pronounce him _to be_ a wretched
father.

PHA. Why really, this is nothing at all--thirty minae, in comparison
with the other expenses he has incurred in good living. He has ruined
his father. There's one servant there, a very great scoundrel, Tranio
_by name_; he could even waste the revenue of a Hercules [4]. On my
word, I'm sadly distrest for his father; for when he comes to know that
things have gone on thus, a hot coal will be scorching his breast, poor
man.

THEU. If, indeed, this is the truth.

PHA. What am I to gain, that I should tell a lie? (_Knocks again at the
door._) Hallo, you! is any one coming to open this _door_?

SER. Why do you knock in this way, when there's no one in the house?

PHA. I fancy that he's gone elsewhere to carouse. Now then, let's
begone. (_They move as if going._)

THEU. What, _my_ lad, are you off then? Liberty's the overcoat for your
back [5].

PHA. Nothing have I with which to cover my back, except to pay respect
and service to my master.

(_Exeunt_ PHANISCUS and SERVANT.

THEU. (_to himself_). By my troth, I am undone! What need is there of
talking? According to the words I have heard, I surely haven't lately
voyaged hence to Aegypt, but even to some desolate land and the most
remote shores have I been borne about, so much am I at a loss to know
where I now am. But I shall soon know; for see, here's the person of
whom my son bought the house.

[Footnote 1: _Respected sir_)--Ver. 944. "Pater," Literally, "father."]

[Footnote 2: _An afternoon's whet_)--Ver. 958. "Merendam." According to
some, this meal was the same as the "prandium," or "breakfast;" while
others take it to have been a slight meal or luncheon, taken at about
four or five in the afternoon.]

[Footnote 3: _No, by Apollo_)--Ver. 965. [Greek: Ma ton Apollo]. He uses
a Greek adjuration.]

[Footnote 4: _The revenue of a Hercules_)--Ver. 976. It was the custom
with many to devote to Hercules the tenth part of their possessions.
Consequently, the revenues belonging to the Temples of this Deity would
be especially large.]

[Footnote 5: _The overcoat for your back_)--Ver. 982. Schmieder thinks
this is said insultingly to Phaniscus. It would, however, appear
otherwise: Phaniscus having no "paenula," or "overcoat," on,
Theuropides, who thinks him a very worthy fellow, says, "My good fellow,
your freedom would make you a very fine overcoat." ]


SCENE IV.--_Enter_ SIMO.

THEU. What are you about?

SIM. I'm coming home from the Forum.

THEU. Has anything new been going on at the Forum to-day?

SIM. Why yes. THEU. What is it, pray?

SIM. I saw a dead man being carried to burial.

THEU. Dear me! that is something new!

SIM. I saw one who was dead being carried out to burial [1]. They said
that he had been alive but just before.

THEU. Woe to that head of yours _for your nonsense_!

SIM. Why are you, _thus_ idling about, enquiring after the news? THEU.
Because I've just arrived from abroad.

SIM. I'm engaged out to dine: don't suppose I shall invite you [2].
THEU. I' faith, I don't want.

SIM. But, to-morrow, unless any person invites me first, I'll even dine
with you.

THEU. I' faith, and that, too, I don't want. Unless you are engaged
_with something_ of greater importance, lend me your attention.

SIM. By all means. THEU. You have received, as far as I understand,
forty minae of Philolaches.

SIM. Never a coin, so far as I know.

THEU. What? _Not_ from my servant Tranio?

SIM. Much less _is_ that _the case_.

THEU. Which he gave you by way of deposit?

SIM. What are you dreaming about?

THEU. What, I? Why, really, 'tis yourself, who hope that, by dissembling
in this manner, you'll be able to make void this bargain.

SIM. Why, what _do you mean_? THEU. The business that, in my absence, my
son transacted with you here.

SIM. How did your son, in your absence, transact any business with me?
What pray, or on what day?

THEU. I owe you eighty minae of silver.

SIM. Not to me, indeed, upon my faith; but _still_, if you do owe them,
give them me. Faith must be kept. Don't be attempting to deny it.

THEU. Assuredly, I shall not deny that I owe them; and I shall pay them.
Do you take care how you deny that you received the forty from him.

SIM. Troth now, prithee, look this way at me, and answer me. He said
that you were wishful to give a wife to your son; for that reason, he
said that you intended building on your own _premises_.

THEU. I, intended building here? SIM. So he told me.

THEU. Ah me! I'm ruined outright! I've hardly any voice left [3].
Neighbours, I'm undone, ruined quite!

SIM. Has Tranio been causing any confusion?

THEU. Yes; he has thrown everything into confusion. He has made a fool
of me to-day in a disgraceful manner.

SIM. What is it you say?

THEU. This matter is just as I am telling you; he has this day made a
fool of me in an outrageous manner. Now I beseech you that you'll kindly
aid me, and lend me your assistance.

SIM. What would you have?

THEU. I beg of you, come this way together with me.

SIM. Be it so. THEU. Lend me the assistance of your slaves and some
scourges.

SIM. Take them _by all means_.

THEU. At the same time I'll tell you about this, in what a fashion he
has this day imposed upon me. (_They go into the house of_ SIMO.)

[Footnote 1: _Being carried out to burial_)--Ver. 991. It is supposed
that in this reply he plays upon the question of Theuropides, who uses
the word "processit" in his question, which may either mean, "what has
been going on?" or "what procession has there been?"]

[Footnote 2: _I shall invite you_)--996. He alludes to the universal
custom of giving friends a "coena viatica," or welcome entertainment, on
arriving from off a journey.]

[Footnote 3: _I've hardly any voice left_)--Ver. 1019. "Vocis non habeo
satis." Literally, "I have not voice enough."]


ACT V.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ TRANIO.

TRA. (_to himself_). The man that shall prove timid in critical matters,
will not be worth a nutshell. And, really, to say what that expression,
"worth a nutshell," means, I don't know. But after my master sent me
into the country to fetch his son hither, I went that way (_pointing_)
slily through the lane to our garden. At the entrance to the garden
that's in the lane, I opened the door; and by that road I led out all
the troop, both men and women. After, from being in a state of siege, I
had led out my troops to a place of safety, I

adopted the plan of convoking a senate of my comrades, and when I had
convoked it, they forthwith banished me from the senate. When I myself
perceived that the matter must be decided by my own judgment, as soon as
ever I could, I did the same as many others do, whose affairs are in
a critical or a perplexed state; they proceed to render them more
perplexed, so that nothing can be settled. But I know full well, that
now by no means can this be concealed from the old man. But how's this,
that our next neighbour's door makes a noise? Why, surely this is my
master: I'd like to have a taste of his talk. (_Goes aside, out of sight
of_ THEUROPIDES.)

_Enter_ THEUROPIDES, _from_ SIMO'S _house._

THEU. (_in the doorway, speaking to_ SIMO'S SLAVES). Do you stand there,
in that spot within the threshold; so that, the very instant I call, you
may sally forth at once. Quickly fasten the handcuffs _upon him_. I'll
wait before the house for this fellow that makes a fool of me, whose
hide I'll make a fool of in fine style, if I live.

TRA. (_apart_). The affair's all out. Now it's best for you, Tranio, to
consider what you are to do.

THEU. (_to himself_). I must go to work to catch him cleverly and
artfully when he comes here. I'll not disclose to him my feelings all at
once; I'll throw out my line; I'll conceal the fact that I know anything
of these matters.

TRA. (_apart_). O cunning mortal! not another person in Athens can be
pronounced more clever than he. One can no more this day deceive him
than _he can_ a stone. I'll accost the man; I'll address him.

THEU. (_to himself_). Now I do wish that he would come here.

TRA. (_apart_). I' faith, if me indeed you want, here I am ready at hand
for you. (_Comes forward._)

THEU. Bravo! Tranio, what's being done?

TRA. The country people are coming from the country: Philolaches will be
here in a moment.

THEU. I' faith, he comes opportunely for me. This neighbour of ours I
take to be a shameless and dishonest fellow.

TRA. Why so?

THEU. Inasmuch as he denies that he knows you.

TRA. Denies it? THEU. _And declares_ that you never gave him a single
coin of money.

TRA. Out with you, you are joking me, I do believe; he doesn't deny it.

THEU. How so? TRA. I am sure now that you are joking; for surely he
doesn't deny it.

THEU. Nay but, upon my faith, he really does deny it; or that he has
sold this house to Philolaches.

TRA. Well now, pray, has he denied that the money was paid him?

THEU. Nay more, he offered to take an oath to me, if I desired it, that
he had neither sold this house, nor had _any_ money him paid been. I
told him the same _that you told me_.

TRA. What did he say? THEU. He offered to give up all his servants for
examination.

TRA. Nonsense! On my faith, he never will give them up.

THEU. He really does offer _them_.

TRA. Why then, do you summon him to trial.

THEU. Wait a bit; I'll make trial as I fancy. I'm determined on it. TRA.
Bring the fellow here to me.

THEU. What then, if I go fetch some men?

TRA. It ought to hare been done already; or else bid the young man to
demand possession of the house.

THEU. Why no, I want _to do_ this first--to put the servants under
examination [1].

TRA. I' faith, I think it ought to be done. Meantime, I'll take
possession of this altar [2]. (_Runs to the altar._)

THEU. Why so? TRA. You can understand nothing. Why, that those may not
be able to take refuge here whom he shall give up for examination,
I'll keep guard here for you; so that the examination may not come to
nothing.

THEU. Get up _from the altar_. TRA. By no means.

THEU. Prithee, don't you take possession of the altar.

TRA. Why so?

THEU. You shall hear; why, because I especially want this, for them to
be taking refuge there. Do let _them_; so much the more easily shall I
get him fined before the judge.

TRA. What you intend to do, do it. Why do you wish to sow further
strife? You don't know how ticklish a thing it is to go to law.

THEU. Just get up, (_beckoning_) this way; it's, then, to ask your
advice upon something _that I want you_.

TRA. Still, as I am, I'll give my advice from this spot; my wits are
much sharper when I'm sitting [3]. Besides, advice is given with higher
sanction from holy places [4].

THEU. Get up; don't be trifling. Just look me in the face. TRA.
(_looking at him_). I am looking.

THEU. Do you see me? TRA. I do see--that if any third person were to
step in here, he would die of hunger.

THEU. Why so? TRA. Because he would get no profit; for, upon my faith,
we are both artful ones.

THEU. I'm undone! TRA. What's the matter with you?

THEU. You have deceived me. TRA. How so, pray?

THEU. You've wiped me clean [5]. TRA. Consider, please, if it wasn't
well done; is your nose running _still_?

THEU. Aye, all my brains besides have you been wiping out of my head as
well. For all your villanies I have discovered from their very roots;
and not from the roots, indeed, i' faith, but even from beneath the very
roots. Never this day, by my troth, will you have planned _all this_
without being punished. I shall at once, you villain, order fire and
faggots [6] to be placed around you.

TRA. Don't do it; for it's my way to be sweeter boiled than roasted.

THEU. Upon my faith, I'll make an example of you.

TRA. Because I please you, you select me for an example.

THEU. Say _now_: what kind of a person did I leave my son, when I went
away from here?

TRA. _One_ with feet _and_ hands, with fingers, ears, eyes, _and_ lips.
THEU. I asked you something else _than that_.

TRA. For that reason I now answer you something else. But look, I see
Callidamates, the friend of your son, coming this way. Deal with me in
his presence, if you want anything.

[Footnote 1: _Servants under examination_)--Ver. 1073. "Quaestioni."
"Examination by torture;" which was the method used by the Romans for
extracting confessions from slaves.]

[Footnote 2: _Take position of this altar_)--Ver. 1074. When a person
took refuge at an altar, he could not be brought to justice, or have
violence offered to his person. According to some writers, there were
always two altars on the stage of Comedy, one on the right hand, sacred
to Apollo, and one on the left, devoted to that Divinity or Hero in
honor of whom the Play was being acted.]

[Footnote 3: _Sharper when I'm sitting_)--1083. Warner suggests that
a little raillery is intended here, upon the custom of sitting when
dispensing justice and paying adoration to the Gods.]

[Footnote 4: _With higher sanction from holy places_)--Ver. 1084.
The ancients made use of sacred places for the purpose of debating on
affairs of importance in, as being likely to add weight and authority
to their judgment. The Roman Senate often met in the Temples, and there
administered justice and gate audience to ambassadors.]

[Footnote 5: _You've wiped me clean_)--Ver. 1089. "Emungo," "to wipe
the nose" for a person, also meant "to cheat" or "impose upon him;"
probably, by reason of the state of helplessness it implied in the party
who was so treated.]

[Footnote 6: _Order fire and faggots_)--Ver. 1099. Though a suppliant
could not be removed from the altar by force, still it was allowable to
burn him away, by surrounding him with fire.]


SCENE II.--_Enter CALLIDAMATES, at a distance._

CALL. (_to himself_). When I had buried all drowsiness [1], and slept
off the debauch, Philolaches told me that _his_ father had arrived here
from abroad; in what a way too _his_ servant had imposed upon the man on
his arrival; he said that he was afraid to come into his presence. Now
of our company I am deputed sole ambassador, to obtain peace from
his father. And look, most opportunely here he is. (_Accosting_
THEUROPIDES.) I wish you health, Theuropides, and am glad that you've
got back safe from abroad. You must dine here with us to-day. Do so.

THEU. Callidamates, may the Gods bless you. For your dinner I offer you
my thanks.

CALL. Will you come then? TRA. (_To_ THEUROPIDES.) Do promise him; I'll
go for you, if you don't like.

THEU. Whip-scoundrel, laughing at _me_ still?

TRA. What, because I say that I'll go to dinner for you?

THEU. But you shan't go. I'll have you carried to the cross, as you
deserve.

TRA. Come, let this pass, and say that I shall go to the dinner. Why are
you silent?

CALL. (_to_ TRANIO). But why, you greatest of simpletons, have you taken
refuge at the altar?

TRA. He frightened me on his arrival. (_To_ THEUROPIDES.) Say now, what
I have done _amiss_. Look, now there's an umpire for us both; come,
discuss _the matter_.

THEU. I say that you have corrupted my son.

TRA. Only listen. I confess that he has done amiss; that he has given
freedom to his mistress; that in your absence he has borrowed money
at interest; that, I admit, is squandered away. Has he done anything
different to what sons of the noblest families do?

THEU. Upon my faith, I must be on my guard with you; you are too clever
a pleader.

CALL. Just let me be umpire in this matter. (_To_ TRANIO.) Get up; I'll
seat myself there.

THEU. By all means: take the management of this dispute to yourself.
(_Pushes him to one side of the altar._)

TRA. Why, this is _surely_ a trick. Make me, then, not to be in a
fright, and yourself to be in a fright in my stead.

THEU. I consider now everything of trifling consequence, compared with
the way in which he has fooled me.

TRA. I' faith, 'twas cleverly done, and I rejoice that it was done.
Those who have white heads ought at that age to be wiser.

THEU. What am I now to do if my friend Demipho or Philonides--

TRA. Tell them in what way your servant made a fool of you. You would be
affording most capital plots for Comedies.

CALL. Hold your tongue awhile; let me speak in my turn.--Listen. THEU.
By all means.

CALL. In the first place of all then, you know that I am the companion
of your son; he has gone to my house, for he is ashamed to come into
your presence, because he knows that you are aware what he has done.
Now, I beseech you, do pardon his simplicity and youthfulness. He is
your _son_; you know that this age is wont to play such pranks; whatever
he has done, he has done in company with me. We have acted wrong:
the interest, principal, and all the sum at which the mistress vas
purchased, all of it we will find, _and_ will contribute together, at
our own cost, not yours.

THEU. No mediator could have come to me more able to influence me
than yourself. I am neither angry with him [2], nor do I blame him for
anything: nay more, in my presence, wench on, drink, do what you please.
If he's ashamed of this, that he has been extravagant, I have sufficient
satisfaction.

CALL. I'm quite ashamed _myself_.

TRA. He grants pardon thus far; now then, what is to become of me?

THEU. Filth, tied up as you hang, you shall be beaten with stripes.

TRA. Even though I am ashamed [3]?

THEU. Upon my faith, I'll be the death of you, if I live!

CALL. Make this pardon general; do, pray, forgive Tranio this offence,
for my sake.

THEU. I would more readily put up with your obtaining any other request
of me than that I should forbear sending to perdition this fellow for
his most villanous doings.

CALL. Pray, do pardon him. TRA. Do pardon me?

THEU. Look there, don't you see how the villain sticks there? (_Pointing
to the altar._)

CALL. Tranio, do be quiet, if you are in your senses.

THEU. Only do you be quiet in urging this matter. I'll subdue him with
stripes, so that he shall be quiet.

CALL. Really, there is no need. Come now, do allow yourself to be
prevailed upon.

THEU. I wish you would not request me.

CALL. Troth now, I do entreat you.

THEU. I wish you would not request me, I tell you.

CALL. It's in vain you wish me not; only do grant this one pardon for
his offence, pray, for my sake, I do entreat you.

TRA. Why make this difficulty? As if to-morrow, I shouldn't be very soon
committing some other fault; then, both of them, both this one and that,
you'll be able to punish soundly.

CALL. Do let me prevail upon you.

THEU. Well then, have it _so_; begone, unpunished! (TRANIO _jumps down
from the altar._) There now, (_pointing to_ CALLIDAMATES) return him
thanks for it. (_Coming forward._) Spectators, this Play is finished;
grant _us your_ applause [4].

[Footnote 1: _Buried all drowsiness_)--Ver. 1102. Generally we hear of
a person "being buried in sleep;" but Callidamates considers that a
drunkard, when he awakes from his sleep, "buries slumber." It is
not unlike the words of Shakspeare, in Macbeth: "Macbeth doth murder
sleep!"]

[Footnote 2: _Neither angry with him_)--Ver. 1142. "Illi," "with him;"
evidently meaning Philolaches.]

[Footnote 3: _Though I am ashamed_)--Ver. 1146. This piece of impudence
is very characteristic of Tranio.]

[Footnote 4: _Grant us your applause_)--Ver. 1160. We may here remark
that The Intriguing Chambermaid, one of Fielding's Comedies, is founded
upon this entertaining Play.]





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