Complete Works of Terence

by Terence

  CONTENTS

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  THE SUBJECT.

  THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.

  THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.

  THE PROLOGUE.

  ACT THE FIRST.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  Scene VII.

  ACT THE SECOND.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  ACT THE THIRD.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  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.

  ADDITIONAL SCENE.

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  Demipho,

  Chremes,

  Aged Athenians, brothers.

  Antipho, son of Demipho.

  Phædria, son of Chremes.

  Phormio, a Parasite.

  Geta, servant of Demipho.

  Davus, a servant.

  Hegio,

  Cratinus,

  Crito,

  Advocates.

  Dorio, a Procurer.

  Nausistrata, the wife of Chremes.

  Sophrona, the nurse of Phanium.

  Scene. — Athens; before the houses of Demipho, Chremes, and Dorio.

  THE SUBJECT.

  Chremes and Demipho are two aged Athenians, brothers. Nausistrata, the wife of Chremes, is a wealthy woman, possessed of large estates in the island of Lemnos. Chremes, who goes thither yearly to receive the rents, meets with a poor woman there, whom he secretly marries, and has by her a daughter called Phanium: while engaged in this intrigue, Chremes passes at Lemnos by the name of Stilpho. By his wife, Nausistrata, at Athens, Chremes has a son, named Phædria, and his brother has a son, named Antipho. Phanium having now arrived at her fifteenth year, the two brothers privately agree that she shall be brought to Athens and married to Antipho. For this purpose, Chremes goes to Lemnos, while Demipho is obliged to take a journey to Cilicia. On departing, they leave their sons in the care of Geta, one of Demipho’s servants. Shortly afterward, Phædria falls in love with a Music-girl, but, from want of means, is unable to purchase her from her owner. In the mean time, the Lemnian wife of Chremes, urged by poverty, embarks for Athens, whither she arrives with her daughter and her nurse. Here they inquire for Stilpho, but in vain, as they can not find any one of that name. Shortly after, the mother dies, and Antipho, seeing Phanium by accident, falls in love with her. Being wishful to marry her, he applies to Phormio, a Parasite, for his advice. The latter hits upon the following scheme: there being a law at Athens, which obliges the next-of-kin to female orphans, either to marry them or give them a portion, the Parasite pretends that he is a friend of Phanium, and insists that Antipho is her nearest relation, and is consequently bound to marry her. Antipho is summoned before a court of justice, and it being previously arranged, allows judgment to be given against himself, and immediately marries Phanium. Shortly after, the old men return upon the same day, and are much vexed, the one on finding that his son has married a woman without a fortune, the other that he has lost the opportunity of getting his daughter advantageously married. In the mean time, Phædria being necessitated to raise some money to purchase the Music-girl, Geta and Phormio arrange that the former shall pretend to the old man that Phormio has consented to take back the woman whom Antipho has married, if Demipho will give her a portion of thirty minae. Demipho borrows the money of Chremes, and pays it to Phormio, who hands it over to Phædria, and Phædria to Dorio, for his mistress. At this conjuncture, it becomes known who Phanium really is, and the old men are delighted to find that Antipho has married the very person they wished. They attempt, however, to get back the thirty minae from Phormio, and proceed to threats and violence. On this, Phormio, who has accidentally learned the intrigue of Chremes with the woman of Lemnos, exposes him, and relates the whole story to his wife, Nausistrata; on which she censures her husband for his bad conduct, and the Play concludes with her thanks to Phormio for his information.

  THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.

  Performed at the Roman Games, L. Posthumius Albinus and L. Cornelius Merula being Curule Ædiles. L. Ambivius Turpio and L. Atilius Prænestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to a base and a treble flute. It is wholly from the Greek, being the Epidicazomenos of Apollodorus. It was represented four times, C. Fannius and M. Valerius being Consuls.

  THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.

  Demipho, the brother of Chremes, has gone abroad, his son Antipho being left at Athens. Chremes has secretly a wife and a daughter at Lemnos, another wife at Athens, and an only son, who loves a Music-girl. The mother arrives at Athens from Lemnos, and there dies. The girl, her orphan daughter, (Chemes being away,) arranges the funeral. After Antipho has fallen in love with her when seen there, through the aid of the Parasite he receives her as his wife. His father and Chremes, having now returned, begin to be enraged. Afterward they give thirty minæ to the Parasite, that he may take her as his own wife. With this money the Music-girl is bought for Phædria. Antipho then keeps his wife, who has been recognized by his uncle.

  THE PROLOGUE.

  Since the old Poet can not withdraw our bard from his pursuits and reduce him to indolence, he endeavors, by invectives, to deter him from writing: for he is wont to say to this effect, — that the Plays which he has hitherto composed are poor in their language, and of meagre style: because he has nowhere described a frantic youth as seeing a hind in flight, and the hounds pursuing; while he implores and entreated that he would give her aid. But if he had been aware that his Play, when formerly first represented, stood its ground more through the merits of the performers than its own, he would attack with much less boldness than he does. Now, if there is any one who says or thinks to this effect, that if the old Poet had not assailed him first, the young one could have devised no Prologue for him to repeat, without having some one to abuse, let him receive this for an answer: “that the prize is proposed in common to all who apply to the Dramatic art.” He has aimed at driving our Poet from his studies to absolute want; he then has intended this for an answer, not an attack. If he had opposed him with fair words, he would have heard himself civilly addressed; what has been given by him, let him consider as now returned. I will make an end of speaking about him, when, of his own accord, he himself makes an end of offending. Now give your attention to what I request. I present you a new play, which they call “Epidicazomenos,” in Greek: in the Latin, he calls it “Phormio;” because the person that acts the principal part is Phormio, a Parasite, through whom, principally, the plot will be carried on, if your favor attends the Poet. Lend your attention; in silence give an ear with impartial feelings, that we may not experience a like fortune to what we did, when, through a tumult, our Company was driven from the place; which place, the merit of the actor, and your good-will and candor seconding it, has since restored unto us.

  ACT THE FIRST.

  Scene I.

  Enter Davus, with a bag of money in his hand.

  Dav. Geta, my very good friend and fellow-townsman, came to me yesterday. There had been for some time a trifling balance of money of his in my hands upon a small account; he asked me to make it up. I have done so, and am carrying it to him. But I hear that his master’s son has taken a wife; this, I suppose, is scraped together as a present for her. How unfair a custom! — that those who have the least should always be giving something to the more wealthy! That which the poo
r wretch has with difficulty spared, ounce by ounce, out of his allowance, defrauding himself of every indulgence, the whole of it will she carry off, without thinking with how much labor it has been acquired. And then besides, Geta will be struck for another present when his mistress is brought to bed; and then again for another present, when the child’s birthday comes; when they initiate him, too: all this the mother will carry off; the child will only be the pretext for the present. But don’t I see Geta there?

  Scene II.

  Enter Geta, from the house of Demipho.

  Geta (at the door, to those within.) If any red-haired man should inquire for me —

  Dav. (stepping forward.) Here he is, say no more.

  Geta (starting.) Oh! Why I was trying to come and meet you, Davus.

  Dav. (giving the money to Geta.) Here, take it; it’s all ready counted out; the number just amounts to the sum I owed you.

  Geta. I am obliged to you; and I return you thanks for not having forgotten me.

  Dav. Especially as people’s ways are nowadays; things are come to such a pass, if a person repays you any thing, you must be greatly obliged to him. But why are you out of spirits?

  Geta. What, I? You little know what terror and peril I am in.

  Dav. What’s the matter?

  Geta. You shall know, if you can only keep it secret.

  Dav. Out upon you, simpleton; the man, whose trustworthiness you have experienced as to money, are you afraid to intrust with words? In what way have I any interest in deceiving you?

  Geta. Well then, listen.

  Dav. I give you my best attention.

  Geta. Davus, do you know Chremes, the elder brother of our old gentleman?

  Dav. Why should I not?

  Geta. Well, and his son Phædria?

  Dav. As well as your own self.

  Geta. It so happened to both the old gentlemen, just at the same period, that the one had to take a journey to Lemnos, and our old man to Cilicia, to see an old acquaintance; he tempted over the old man by letters, promising him all but mountains of gold.

  Dav. To one who had so much property, that he had more than he could use?

  Geta. Do have done; that is his way.

  Dav. Oh, as for that, I really ought to have been a man of fortune.

  Geta. When departing hence, both the old gentlemen left me as a sort of tutor to their sons.

  Dav. Ah, Geta, you undertook a hard task there.

  Geta. I came to experience it, I know that. I’m quite sure that I was forsaken by my good Genius, who must have been angry with me. I began to oppose them at first; but what need of talking? As long as I was trusty to the old men, I was paid for it in my shoulder-blades. This, then, occurred to my mind: why, this is folly to kick against the spur. I began to do every thing for them that they wished to be humored in.

  Dav. You knew how to make your market.

  Geta. Our young fellow did no mischief whatever at first; that Phædria at once picked up a certain damsel, a Music-girl, and fell in love with her to distraction. She belonged to a most abominable Procurer; and their fathers had taken good care that they should have nothing to give him. There remained nothing for him then but to feed his eyes, to follow her about, to escort her to the school, and to escort her back again. We, having nothing to do, lent our aid to Phædria. Near the school at which she was taught, right opposite the place, there was a certain barber’s shop: here we were generally in the habit of waiting for her, until she was coming home again. In the mean time, while one day we were sitting there, there came in a young man in tears; we were surprised at this. We inquired what was the matter? “Never,” said he, “has poverty appeared to me a burden so grievous and so insupportable as just now. I have just seen a certain poor young woman in this neighborhood lamenting her dead mother. She was laid out before her, and not a single friend, acquaintance, or relation was there with her, except one poor old woman, to assist her in the funeral: I pitied her. The girl herself was of surpassing beauty.” What need of a long story? She moved us all. At once Antipho exclaims, “Would you like us to go and visit her?” The other said, “I think we ought — let us go — show us the way, please.” We went, and arrived there; we saw her; the girl was beautiful, and that you might say so the more, there was no heightening to her beauty; her hair disheveled, her feet bare, herself neglected, and in tears; her dress mean, so that, had there not been an excess of beauty in her very charms, these circumstances must have extinguished those charms. The one who had lately fallen in love with the Music-girl said: “She is well enough;” but our youth —

  Dav. I know it already — fell in love with her.

  Geta. Can you imagine to what an extent? Observe the consequence. The day after, he goes straight to the old woman; entreats her to let him have her: she, on the other hand, refuses him, and says that he is not acting properly; that she is a citizen of Athens, virtuous, and born of honest parents: that if he wishes to make her his wife, he is at liberty to do so according to law; but if otherwise, she gives him a refusal. Our youth was at a loss what to do. He was both eager to marry her, and he dreaded his absent father.

  Dav. Would not his father, if he had returned, have given him leave?

  Geta. He let him marry a girl with no fortune, and of obscure birth! He would never do so.

  Dav. What came of it at last?

  Geta. What came of it? There is one Phormio here, a Parasite, a fellow of great assurance; may all the Gods confound him!

  Dav. What has he done?

  Geta. He has given this piece of advice, which I will tell you of. “There is a law, that orphan girls are to marry those who are their next-of-kin; and the same law commands such persons to marry them. I’ll say you are the next-of-kin, and take out a summons against you; I’ll pretend that I am a friend of the girl’s father; we will come before the judges: who her father was, who her mother, how she is related to you — all this I’ll trump up, just as will be advantageous and suited to my purpose; on your disproving none of these things, I shall prevail, of course. Your father will return; a quarrel will be the consequence; what care I? She will still be ours.”

  Dav. An amusing piece of assurance!

  Geta. He was persuaded to this. It was carried out; they came into court: we were beaten. He has married her.

  Dav. What is it you tell me?

  Geta. Just what you have heard.

  Dav. O Geta, what will become of you?

  Geta. Upon my faith, I don’t know; this one thing I do know, whatever fortune may bring, I’ll bear it with firmness.

  Dav. You please me; well, that is the duty of a man.

  Geta. All my hope is in myself.

  Dav. I commend you.

  Geta. Suppose I have recourse to some one to intercede for me, who will plead for me in these terms: “Pray, do forgive him this time; but if after this he does any thing, I make no entreaty:” if only he doesn’t add, “When I’ve gone, e’en kill him for my part.”

  Dav. What of the one who was usher to the Music-girl?

  Geta (shrugging his shoulders.) So so, but poorly.

  Dav. Perhaps he hasn’t much to give.

  Geta. Why, really, nothing at all, except mere hopes.

  Dav. Is his father come back or not?

  Geta. Not yet.

  Dav. Well, when do you expect your old man?

  Geta. I don’t know for certain; but I just now heard that a letter has been brought from him, and has been left with the officers of the customs: I’m going to fetch it.

  Dav. Is there any thing else that you want with me, Geta?

  Geta. Nothing; but that I wish you well. (Exit Davus.) Hark you, boy (calling at the door). Is nobody coming out here? (A Lad comes out.) Take this, and give it to Dorcium.

  He gives the purse to the Lad, who carries it into Demipho’s house and exit Geta.

  Scene III.

  Enter Antipho and Phædria.

  Ant. That things should have come to such a pass, Phædria, that I should be
in utter dread of my father, who wishes me so well, whenever his return comes into my thoughts! Had I not been inconsiderate, I might have waited for him, as I ought to have done.

  Phæd. What’s the matter?

  Ant. Do you ask the question? You, who have been my confederate in so bold an adventure? How I do wish it had never entered the mind of Phormio to persuade me to this, or to urge me in the heat of my passion to this step, which is the source of my misfortunes. Then I should not have obtained her; in that case I might have been uneasy for some few days; but still, this perpetual anxiety would not have been tormenting my mind (touching Phædria).

  Phæd. I hear you.

  Ant. While I am every moment expecting his return, who is to sever from me this connection.

  Phæd. Other men feel uneasiness because they can not gain what they love; you complain because you have too much. You are surfeited with love, Antipho. Why, really, upon my faith, this situation of yours is surely one to be coveted and desired. So may the Gods kindly bless me, could I be at liberty to be so long in possession of the object of my love, I could contentedly die. Do you, then, form a judgment as to the rest, what I am now suffering from this privation, and what pleasure you enjoy from the possession of your desires; not to mention how, without any expense, you have obtained a well-born and genteel woman, and have got a wife of unblemished reputation: happy you, were not this one thing wanting, a mind capable of bearing all this with moderation. If you had to deal with that Procurer with whom I have to deal, then you would soon be sensible of it. We are mostly all of us inclined by nature to be dissatisfied with our lot.

  Ant. Still, on the other hand, Phædria, you now seem to me the fortunate man, who still have the liberty, without restraint, of resolving on what pleases you best: whether to keep, to love on, or to give her up. I, unfortunately, have got myself into that position, that I have neither right to give her up, nor liberty to retain her. But how’s this? Is it our Geta I see running this way? ‘Tis he himself. Alas! I’m dreadfully afraid what news it is he’s now bringing me.