by Plautus
A 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 from three sides. All the pots and cups he broke, except those that held a couple of gallons; 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 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.)
ACT V.
Enter HEGIO, PHILOPOLEMUS, PHILOCRATES, and behind them, STALAGMUS.
HEGIO
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 PHILOCIATES has been found true to me.
PHILOPOLEMUS
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.
PHILOCRATES
What now, since I’ve kept my word with you, and have caused him to be restored back again to freedom?
HEGIO
Philocrates, you have acted so that I can never return you thanks enough, in the degree that you merit from myself and my son.
PHILOPOLEMUS
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.
HEGIO
What need is there of words? I have no tongue with which to deny whatever you may ask of me.
PHILOCRATES
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.
HEGIO
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.
PHILOCRATES
What have you done?
HEGIO
I confined him in fetters at the stone-quarries, when I found out that I had been imposed upon.
PHILOCRATES
Ah wretched me! That for my safety misfortunes should have happened to that best of men.
HEGIO
Now, on this account, you need not give me even one groat of silver for him. Receive him of me without cost that he may be free.
PHILOCRATES
On my word, Hegio, you act with kindness; but I entreat that you will order this man to be sent for.
HEGIO
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, what was done with my younger son. Do you go bathe in the meantime.
PHILOPOLEMUS
Philocrates, follow me this way in-doors.
PHILOCRATES
I follow you. They go into the house.
HEGIO and STALAGMUS.
HEGIO
Come you, step this way, you worthy fellow, my fine slave.
STALAGMUS
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.
HEGIO
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.
STALAGMUS
Do you think that I’m ashamed to own it, when you affirm it?
HEGIO
But I’ll make you to be ashamed; for I’ll cause you to be blushes all over.
STALAGMUS
Heyday-you’re threatening stripes, I suppose, to me, guite 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.
HEGIO
Very fluent indeed. But now I wish this prating to be cut short.
HEGIO
As you desire, so be it done.
HEGIO
to the AUDIENCE . As a boy he was very obedient; 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.
STALAGMUS
That’s mere trifling. Don’t you think that I know what I’m deserving of?
HEGIO
Still, it is in your power to escape a small portion of it, if not the whole.
STALAGMUS
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.
HEGIO
To what person?
STALAGMUS
To Theodoromedes the Polyplusian, in Elis, for six minæ.
HEGIO
O ye immortal Gods! He surely is the father of this person, Philocrates.
STALAGMUS
Why, I know him better than yourself, and have seen him more times.
HEGIO
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.
Enter PHILOCRATES, from the house
PHILOCRATES
Hegio, here am I; if you want anything of me, command me.
HEGIO
He pointing to STALAGMUS declares that he sold my son to your father, in Elis, for six minæ.
PHILOCRATES
to STALAGMUS . How long since did that happen?
STALAGMUS
This is the twentieth year, commencing from it.
PHILOCRATES
He is speaking falsely.
STALAGMUS
Either I or you do. Why, your father gave you the little child, of four years old, to be your own slave.
PHILOCRATES
What was his name? If you are speaking the truth, tell me that, then.
STALAGMUS
Pægnium, he used to be called; afterwards, you gave him the name of Tyndarus.
PHILOCRATES
Why don’t I recollect you?
STALAGMUS
Because it’s the fashion for persons to forget, and not to know him whose favour is esteemed as worth nothing.
PHILOCRATES
Tell me, was he the person whom you sold to my father, who was given me for my private service?
STALAGMUS
It was his son pointing to HEGIO .
HEGIO
Is this person now living?
STALAGMUS
I received the money I cared nothing about the rest.
HEGIO
to PHILOCRATES . What do you say?
PHILOCRATES
Why, this very Tyndarus is yo
ur 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.
HEGIO
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.
Enter TYNDARUS, in chains, led in by the SERVANTS.
TYNDARUS
to himself . I have seen many of the torments which take place at Acheron often represented in paintings; 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, for them to play with, so in like fashion, when I arrived, a crow was given me with which to amuse myself. But see, my master’s before the door; and lo! my other master has returned from Elis.
HEGIO
Hail to you, my much wished-for son.
TYNDARUS
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.
PHILOCRATES
Hail to you, Tyndarus.
TYNDARUS
And to you, for whose sake I am enduring these miseries.
PHILOCRATES
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 minæ. 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.
TYNDARUS
How, where’s Hegio’s son?
PHILOCRATES
Look now; indoors is your own brother.
TYNDARUS
How do you say? Have you brought that captive son of his?
PHILOCRATES
Why, he’s in-doors, I say.
TYNDARUS
By my faith, you’ve done both well and happily.
PHILOCRATES
pointing to HEGIO . Now this is your own father; pointing to STALAGMUS this is the thief who stole you when a little child.
TYNDARUS
But now, grown up, I shall give him grown up to the executioner for his thieving.
PHILOCRATES
He deserves it.
TYNDARUS
I’ faith, I’ll deservedly give him the reward that he deserves. To HEGIO. But tell me I pray you, are you my father?
HEGIO
I am he, my son.
TYNDARUS
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.
HEGIO
I am he.
PHILOCRATES
I pray that your son may be lightened of these fetters, and this slave be loaded with them.
HEGIO
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.
STALAGMUS
To one who has no savings of his own, you’ll be rightly doing so. 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 know ledge. The Poets find but few Comedies 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.
CASINA
Translated by Henry Thomas Riley
The play takes place on the streets of Athens and revolves around the beautiful girl, Casina, who is being fought over by two men. In her infancy, she was abandoned at the door of Lysidamus and his wife Cleostrata, and has been raised as a servant. Euthynicus, son of Lysidamus, has fallen in love with Casina and wants to marry her. As the wedding approaches, however, Lysidamus desires Casina for himself, and devises an elaborate ruse to remove Euthynicus to the country and have Casina marry his servant Olympio instead. Lysidamus would then be able to have sex with Casina whenever he wanted, and she would be the wife of his servant in name only: she would in effect become his concubine, without his own wife Cleostrata finding out. Cleostrata opposes his plan and wants Casina to marry her slave Chalinus, who would stand in for Euthynicus until his return from the country.
CONTENTS
THE SUBJECT.
THE ACROSTIC ARGUMENT.
THE PROLOGUE
ACT I.
ACT II.
ACT III.
ACT IV.
ACT V.
THE SUBJECT.
A SERVANT, having obtained from a woman a female infant which was about to be exposed, brings it to his mistress, Cleostrata, who brings it up with the greatest care. The child is called Casina; and when she grows up, both Stalino, the husband, and Euthynicus, the son of Cleostrata, fall in love with her. Cleostrata, being aware of this, and favouring the passion of Euthynicus, is desirous to give Casina in marriage to Chalinus, his armour-bearer, as a covert method of putting her in the power of Euthynicus. On the other hand, Stalino wishes her to be married to Olympio, the bailiff of his farm, as a means of getting her into his own possession. It is at last arranged that the matter shall be decided by lot, which being drawn, Olympio is the winner. Cleostrata then resorts to a stratagem to defeat her husband’s plan. With the assistance of Myrrhina and her own female servants, she dresses up Chalinus to represent Casina, who is taken by the bridegroom Olympio to a house in the vicinity, which has been secretly engaged by Stalino. The Play concludes with Olympio and Stalino rushing out of the house in dismay, after having been soundly beaten by Chalinus. Stalino implores pardon of his wife, which, at the intercession of Myrrhina, is granted. It is then discovered that Casina is really the daughter of Alcesimus, and the Audience is informed that she is to be given in marriage to Euthynicus.
THE ACROSTIC ARGUMENT.
[Supposed to have been written by Priscian the Grammarian.]
Two fellow-servants seek their fellow-servant (Conservam) as a wife; the old man prompts the one (Alium), his son the other. A decision by lot (Sors) favours the old man; but he is deceived by a stratagem; and so (Ita) for him, in place of the damsel, a rascally (Nequam) servant is substituted, who thrashes his master and the bailiff. The young man (Adolescens) marries Casina, when known to be a citizen.
THE PROLOGUE
The Prologue: This Prologue appears to have been written many years after the death of the author, and indeed bears internal marks of having been composed at a period nearer to the Augustan age than the time of Plautus. Judging, however, from the fourteenth line, there were, at the time when it was written, some persons still surviving who had been present at the original representation of the Play.
I bid you, most worthy Spectators, welcome; who most highly esteem the Goddess Faith, and Faith esteems you. If I have said the truth, then give me loud applause, that even now, from the very beginning forward, I may know that you are favourably disposed towards me. Those who make use of aged wine, I deem to be wise; and those as well, who, through choice, are the spectators of ancient Plays. Since antique works and words are pleasing to you, ’tis just that ancient Plays should in preference please you; for the new Comedies which come out now-a-days are much more worthless than the new-coined money. We, since we have heard the report in public, that you ardently
wish for the Plays of Plautus, have brought forward this ancient Comedy of his, which you, who are among the older ones, have formerly approved. But I am aware that those who are among the younger ones are not acquainted with it; still, that they may make acquaintance with it, we will carefully use our best endeavours. When this was first represented, it surpassed all other Plays. In those days there was the very £elite of the poets, who have now departed hence to the place common to all. But though departed, yet do they prove of advantage to those who are still existing. All of you, with the greatest earnestness, I would have entreated that you’ll kindly lend attention to this our company. Dismiss from your thoughts cares and monies due; let no man stand in dread of his duns. ’Tis a holiday this — to the bankers a holiday has been given. ’Tis now a calm; about the Forum these are Halcyon days. Reasonably do they act: during the games they ask no man for money; but during the games to no one do they pay. If your ears are disengaged, give me your attention; I wish to mention to you the name of the Play. “Clerumenæ” this Comedy is called in Greek; in Latin, “Sortientes.” Diphilus wrote it in Greek, and after that, over again, Plautus with the barking name in Latin afresh. Pointing to the house of STALINO. An old married man is living here; he has a son; he, with his father, is dwelling in this house. He has a certain slave, who with disease is confined — aye, faith, to his bed, he really is, that I may tell no lie. But sixteen years ago, it happened that on a time this servant, at early dawn, beheld a female child being exposed. He went at once to the woman who was exposing it, and begged her to give it to himself. He gained his request: he took it away, and carried it straight home. He gave it to his mistress, and entreated her to take care of it, and bring it up. His mistress did so; with great care she brought it up, as though it had been her own daughter, not much different. Since then she has grown up to that age to be able to prove an attraction to the men; but this old gentleman loves this girl distractedly, and, on the other hand, so does his son as well. Each of them now, on either side, is preparing his legions, both father and son, each unknown to the other. The father has deputed his bailiff to ask her as his wife; he hopes that, if she’s given to him, an attraction out of doors will be, unknown to his wife, provided for him. But the son has deputed his armour-bearer to ask her for himself as a wife. He knows that if he gains that request, there will be an object for him to love, within his abode. The wife of the old gentleman has found out that he is gratifying his amorousness; for that reason, she is making common cause together with her son. But this father, when he found out that his son was in love with this same woman, and was a hindrance to him, sent the young man hence upon business abroad. His mother, understanding this, still lends him, though absent, her assistance. Don’t you expect it; he will not, in this Play, to-day, return to the city. Plautus did not choose it: he broke down the bridge that lay before him in the way. There are some here, who, I fancy, are now saying among themselves, “Prithee, what means this, i’ faith? — the marriage of a slave Are slaves to be marrying wives, or asking them for themselves? They’ve introduced something new — a thing that’s done nowhere in the world.” But I affirm that this is done in Greece, and at Carthage, and here in our own country, and in the Apulian country; and that the marriages of slaves are wont to be solemnized there with more fuss than even those of free persons. If this is not the fact, if any one pleases, let him bet with me a stake towards a jug of honied wine, so long as a Carthaginian is the umpire in my cause, or a Greek in fact, or an Apulian. A pause. What now? You don’t take it? No one’s thirsty, I find. I’ll return to that foundling girl, whom the two slaves are, with all their might, contending for as a wife. She’ll be found to be both chaste and free, of freeborn parents, an Athenian girl, and assuredly of no immodesty at all will she be guilty in this Comedy at least. But i’ faith, for sure, directly afterwards, when the Play is over, if any one offers the money, as I guess, she’ll readily enter into matrimony with him, and not wait for good omens. Thus much I have to say. Farewell; be prosperous in your affairs, and conquer by true valour, as hitherto you’ve done.