by Terence
Sim. (ironically.) He’s beginning his tale.
Chrem. Let him alone.
Cri. Really, is he to be interrupting me in this way?
Chrem. Do you proceed.
Cri. He who received him was a relation of mine. There I heard from him that he was a native of Attica. He died there.
Chrem. His name?
Cri. The name, in such a hurry!
Pam. Phania.
Chrem. (starting.) Hah! I shall die!
Cri. I’faith, I really think it was Phania; this I know for certain, he said that he was a citizen of Rhamnus.
Chrem. O Jupiter!
Cri. Many other persons in Andros have heard the same, Chremes.
Chrem. (aside.) I trust it may turn out as I hope. (To Crito.) Come now, tell me, what did he then say about her? Did he say she was his own daughter?
Cri. No.
Chrem. Whose then?
Cri. His brother’s daughter.
Chrem. She certainly is mine.
Cri. What do you say?
Sim. What is this that you say?
Pam. (aside.) Prick up your ears, Pamphilus.
Sim. Why do you suppose so?
Chrem. That Phania was my brother.
Sim. I knew him, and I am aware of it.
Chrem. He, flying from the wars, and following me to Asia, set out from here. At the same time he was afraid to leave her here behind; since then, this is the first time I have heard what became of him.
Pam. (aside.) I am scarcely myself, so much has my mind been agitated by fear, hope, joy, and surprise at this so great, so unexpected blessing.
Sim. Really, I am glad for many reasons that she has been discovered to be a citizen.
Pam. I believe it, father.
Chrem. But there yet remains one difficulty with me, which keeps me in suspense.
Pam. (aside.) You deserve to be —— , with your scruples, you plague. You are seeking a knot in a bulrush.
Cri. (to Chremes.) What is that?
Chrem. The names don’t agree.
Cri. Troth, she had another when little.
Chrem. What was it, Crito? Can you remember it?
Cri. I’m trying to recollect it.
Pam. (aside.) Am I to suffer his memory to stand in the way of my happiness, when I myself can provide my own remedy in this matter? I will not suffer it. (Aloud.) Hark you, Chremes, that which you are trying to recollect is “Pasibula.”
Chrem. The very same.
Cri. That’s it.
Pam. I’ve heard it from herself a thousand times.
Sim. I suppose, Chremes, that you believe that we all rejoice at this discovery.
Chrem. So may the Gods bless me, I do believe it.
Pam. What remains to be done, father?
Sim. The event itself has quite brought me to reconcilement.
Pam. O kind father! With regard to her as a wife, since I have taken possession of her, Chremes will not offer any opposition.
Chrem. The plea is a very good one, unless perchance your father says any thing to the contrary.
Pam. Of course, I agree.
Sim. Then be it so.
Chrem. Her portion, Pamphilus, is ten talents.
Pam. I am satisfied.
Chrem. I’ll hasten to my daughter. Come now, (beckoning) along with me, Crito; for I suppose that she will not know me.
They go into Glycerium’s house.
Sim. (To Pamphilus.) Why don’t you order her to be sent for hither, to our house?
Pam. Well thought of; I’ll at once give charge of that to Davus.
Sim. He can’t do it.
Pam. How so?
Sim. Because he has another matter that more nearly concerns himself, and of more importance.
Pam. What, pray?
Sim. He is bound.
Pam. Father, he is not rightly bound.
Sim. But I ordered to that effect.
Pam. Prithee, do order him to be set at liberty.
Sim. Well, be it so.
Pam. But immediately.
Sim. I’m going in.
Pam. O fortunate and happy day!
Simo goes into his house.
Scene VI.
Enter Charinus, at a distance.
Char. (apart to himself.) I’m come to see what Pamphilus is about; and look, here he is.
Pam. (to himself.) Some one perhaps might imagine that I don’t believe this to be true; but now it is clear to me that it really is true. I do think that the life of the Gods is everlasting, for this reason, because their joys are their own. For immortality has been obtained by me, if no sorrow interrupts this delight. But whom in particular could I wish to be now thrown in my way, for me to relate these things to?
Char. (apart to himself.) What means this rapture?
Pam. (to himself.) I see Davus. There is no one in the world whom I would choose in preference; for I am sure that he of all people will sincerely rejoice in my happiness.
Scene VII.
Enter Davus.
Dav. (to himself.) Where is Pamphilus, I wonder?
Pam. Here he is, Davus.
Dav. (turning round.) Who’s that?
Pam. ‘Tis I, Pamphilus; you don’t know what has happened to me.
Dav. No really; but I know what has happened to myself.
Pam. And I too.
Dav. It has fallen out just like human affairs in general, that you should know the mishap I have met with, before I the good that has befallen you.
Pam. My Glycerium has discovered her parents.
Dav. O, well done!
Char. (apart, in surprise.) Hah!
Pam. Her father is an intimate friend of ours.
Dav. Who?
Pam. Chremes.
Dav. You do tell good news.
Pam. And there’s no hinderance to my marrying her at once.
Char. (apart.) Is he dreaming the same that he has been wishing for when awake?
Pam. Then about the child, Davus.
Dav. O, say no more; you are the only person whom the Gods favor.
Char. (apart.) I’m all right if these things are true. I’ll accost them.
Comes forward.
Pam. Who is this? Why, Charinus, you meet me at the very nick of time.
Char. That’s all right.
Pam. Have you heard — ?
Char. Every thing; come, in your good fortune do have some regard for me. Chremes is now at your command; I’m sure that he’ll do every thing you wish.
Pam. I’ll remember you; and because it is tedious for us to wait for him until he comes out, follow me this way; he is now in-doors at the house of Glycerium; do you, Davus, go home; send with all haste to remove her thence. Why are you standing there? Why are you delaying?
Dav. I’m going. (Pamphilus and Charinus go into the house of Glycerium. Davus then comes forward and addresses the Audience.) Don’t you wait until they come out from there; she will be betrothed within: if there is any thing else that remains, it will be transacted in-doors. Grant us your applause.
THE MOTHER-IN-LAW
Translated by Henry Thomas Riley
This comedy was initially deemed a failure, after two unsuccessful stagings. The first in 165 BC was disrupted when a rumour was spread that a tightrope-walker and boxers were about to perform. In 160 BC the production was cancelled again when the theatre was stormed by a group of boisterous gladiator fans. However, the play was presented successfully on its third attempt later that same year. It is based on plays by Apollodorus of Carystus and Menander.
CONTENTS
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
THE SUBJECT.
THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
THE FIRST PROLOGUE.
THE SECOND PROLOGUE.
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Scene II.
ACT THE SECOND.
Scene I.
Scene II.
Scene III.
&nbs
p; ACT THE THIRD.
Scene I.
Scene II.
Scene III.
Scene IV.
Scene V.
Scene VI.
Scene VII.
Scene VIII.
Scene IX.
Scene X.
ACT THE FOURTH.
Scene I.
Scene II.
Scene III.
Scene IV.
Scene V.
Scene VI.
Scene VII.
Scene VIII.
Scene IX.
ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.
Scene II.
Scene III.
Scene IV.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Laches, an aged Athenian, father of Pamphilus.
Phidippus, an aged Athenian, father of Philumena.
Pamphilus, son of Laches.
Sosia, servant of Pamphilus.
Parmeno, servant of Sostrata.
Sostrata, wife of Laches.
Myrrhina, wife of Phidippus.
Bacchis, a Courtesan.
Philotis, a Courtesan.
Syra, a Procuress.
Scene. — Athens; before the houses of Laches, Phidippus, and Bacchis.
THE SUBJECT.
Pamphilus, the son of Laches by his wife Sostrata, being at the time enamored of Bacchis, a Courtesan, chances, one night, in a drunken fit, to debauch Philumena, the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina. In the struggle he takes a ring from her, which he gives to Bacchis. Some time afterward, at his father’s express desire, he consents to marry. By chance the young woman whom he has ravished is given to him as a wife, to the great joy of her mother, who alone is aware of her misfortune, and hopes that her disgrace may be thereby concealed. It, however, happens otherwise; for Pamphilus, still retaining his passion for Bacchis, refuses for some time to cohabit with her. Bacchis, however, now rejects the advances of Pamphilus, who by degrees becomes weaned from his affection for her, and grows attached to his wife, whom he has hitherto disliked. Meantime, however, he is suddenly called away from home. During his absence, Philumena, finding herself pregnant in consequence of her misfortune before her marriage, fearing detection, especially avoids the company of her mother-in-law. At length she makes an excuse for returning to the home of her own parents, where she remains. Sostrata thereupon sends for her, but is answered that she is ill, on which she goes to see her, but is refused admittance to the house. On hearing of this, Laches blames his wife as being the cause of this estrangement. Pamphilus now returns, and it so happens that, on the day of his arrival, Philumena is brought to bed of a child. Impatient to see her, Pamphilus rushes into her room, and to his great distress finds that this is the case. Myrrhina thereupon entreats him to keep the matter secret, and begs him, if he refuses to receive her daughter back again, at least not to ruin her reputation by divulging it. As he now declines either to take back his wife or give his reason for so doing, Laches suspects that he is still enamored of Bacchis, and accordingly sends for her, and expostulates with her. She, however, exonerates herself; on which the old man, supposing that Philumena and her mother are equally ignorant with himself as to his son’s motives, begs her to call on them and remove their suspicions. While she is conversing with them, they recognize the ring upon her finger which Pamphilus had formerly taken from Philumena. By means of this it is discovered that Pamphilus himself is the person who has ravished Philumena; on which, overjoyed, he immediately takes home his wife and son.
THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.
Performed at the Megalensian Games; Sextus Julius Csesar and Cneius Cornelius Dolabella being Curule Ædiles. The whole was not then acted. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to a pair of flutes. It was composed wholly from the Greek of Menander. It was performed the first time without a Prologue. Represented a second time; Cneius Octavius and T. Manlius being Consuls. It was then brought out in honor of L. Æmilius Paulus, at his Funeral Games, and was not approved of. It was repeated a third time; Q. Fulvius and L. Marcius being Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio performed it. It was then approved of.
THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.
Pamphilus has married Philumena, to whom, when a virgin, he formerly, not knowing who she was, offered violence; and whose ring which he took off by force, he gave to his mistress, Bacchis, a Courtesan. Afterward he sets out for Imbros, not having touched his bride. Having become pregnant, her mother brings her over to her own house, as though sick, that her mother-in-law may not know it. Pamphilus returns; detects her being delivered; conceals it; but determines not to take back his wife. His father imputes this to his passion for Bacchis. While Bacchis is exculpating herself, Myrrhina, the mother of the injured girl, by chance recognizes the ring. Pamphilus takes back his wife, together with his son.
THE FIRST PROLOGUE.
Hecyra is the name of this Play; when it was represented for the first time, an unusual disaster and calamity interrupted it, so that it could not be witnessed throughout or estimated; so much had the populace, carried away with admiration, devoted their attention to some rope-dancing. It is now offered as though entirely a new Play; and he who wrote it did not wish to bring it forward then a second time, on purpose that he might be able again to sell it. Other Plays of his you have seen represented; I beg you now to give your attention to this.
THE SECOND PROLOGUE.
I come to you as an envoy from the Poet, in the character of prologue-speaker; allow me to be a successful pleader, that in my old age I may enjoy the same privilege that I enjoyed when a, younger man, when I caused new Plays, that had been once rejected, to come into favor; so that his writings might not die with the Poet. Among them, as to those of Cæcilius, which I first studied when new; in some of which I was rejected; in some I kept my ground with difficulty. As I knew that the fortune of the stage was varying, where the hopes were uncertain, I submitted to certain toil. Those I zealously attempted to perform, that from the same writer I might learn new ones, and not discourage him from his pursuits. I caused them to be represented. When seen, they pleased. Thus did I restore the Poet to his place, who was now almost weaned, through the malevolence of his adversaries, from his pursuits and labors, and from the dramatic art. But if I had at that period slighted the writer, and had wished to use my endeavors in discouraging him, so that he might live a life of idleness rather than of study, I might have easily discouraged him from writing others. Now, for my sake, hear with unbiased minds what it is I ask. I again bring before you the Hecyra, which I have never been allowed to act before you in silence; such misfortunes have so overwhelmed it. These misfortunes your intelligence will allay, if it is a seconder of our exertions. The first time, when I began to act this Play, the vauntings of boxers, the expectation of a rope-dancer, added to which, the throng of followers, the noise, the clamor of the women, caused me to retire from your presence before the time. In this new Play, I attempted to follow the old custom of mine, of making a fresh trial; I brought it on again. In the first Act I pleased; when in the mean time a rumor spread that gladiators were about to be exhibited; the populace flock together, make a tumult, clamor aloud, and fight for their places: meantime, I was unable to maintain my place. Now there is no confusion: there is attention and silence — an opportunity of acting my Play has been granted me; to yourselves is given the power of gracing the scenic festival. Do not permit, through your agency, the dramatic art to sink into the hands of a few; let your authority prove a seconder and assistant to my own. If I have never covetously set a price upon my skill, and have come to this conclusion, that it is the greatest gain in the highest possible degree to contribute to your entertainment; allow me to obtain this of you, that him who has intrusted his labors to my protection, and himself to your integrity, — that him, I say, the malicious may not maliciously deride, beset by them on every side. For my sake, admit of this plea, and attend in silence, that he may be encouraged to write other Plays, and that it may be for my advantage to stu
dy new ones hereafter, purchased at my own expense.
ACT THE FIRST.
Scene I.
Enter Philotis and Syra.
Phil. I’faith, Syra, you can find but very few lovers who prove constant to their mistresses. For instance, how often did this Pamphilus swear to Bacchis — how solemnly, so that any one might have readily believed him — that he never would take home a wife so long as she lived. Well now, he is married.
Syr. Therefore, for that very reason, I earnestly both advise and entreat you to take pity upon no one, but plunder, fleece, and rend every man you lay hold of.
Phil. What! Hold no one exempt?
Syr. No one; for not a single one of them, rest assured, comes to you without making up his mind, by means of his flatteries, to gratify his passion with you at the least possible expense. Will you not, pray, plot against them in return?
Phil. And yet, upon my faith, it is unfair to be the same to all.
Syr. What! unfair to take revenge on your enemies? or, for them to be caught in the very way they try to catch you? Alas! wretched me! why do not your age and beauty belong to me, or else these sentiments of mine to you?
Scene II.
Enter Parmeno from the house of Laches.
Par. (at the door, speaking to Scirtus within.) If the old man should be asking for me, do you say that I have just gone to the harbor to inquire about the arrival of Pamphilus. Do you hear what I say, Scirtus? If he asks for me, then you are to say so; if he does not, why, say nothing at all; so that at another time I may be able to employ that excuse as a new one. (Comes forward, and looking around.) — But is it my dear Philotis that I see? How has she come here? (Accosting her.) Philotis heartily good-morrow.