University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter, from HEGIO's house, a LAD, servant to HEGIO.
May Jove and all the Gods, Ergasilus,
Confound thee and thy belly, with all Parasites,
And all who shall hereafter entertain them!
Storm, tempest, devastation, have just broke
Their way into our house!—I was afraid,
He would have seiz'd me, like an hungry wolf:
I was indeed in a most piteous fright,
He made such horrid grinding with his teeth.—
Soon as he came, he knock'd down the whole larder
With all the meat in't:—then he snatch'd a knife,
And stuck three pigs directly in the throat;—
Broke all the pots and cups that were not measure,
And ask'd the cook, whether the salting-pans
With their contents might not be clap'd upon
The fire together all at once:—He has broke
The cellar door down, laid the store-room open.—
Secure him, I beseech you, fellow-servants:—
I'll to my master, tell him he must order
Some more provisions, if he means to have
Any himself:—for, as this fellow manages,
There's nothing left, or nothing will be shortly.

SCENE II.

Enter HEGIO, PHILOPOLEMUS, and PHILOCRATES, STALAGMUS at a distance.
HEGIO,
to his son, advancing.
O my dear boy!—To Jove and to the Gods,
In duty bound, I pay my utmost thanks;—
That they have thus restor'd you to your father;—
That they have freed me from the load of sorrow
I've labour'd under, since depriv'd of you;—
That I behold yon villain in my pow'r;—
(Pointing to Stalagmus)
And that this youth has kept his word with me.
(Pointing to Philocrates)
No more,—enough already I've experienc'd
Of heart-felt anguish,—with disquietude
And tears enough have worn me,—I have heard
Enough too of your troubles, which, my son,
You told me at the Port.—Then now to business.

Phil.
Well, Sir,—what recompence may I expect
For keeping of my word, and bringing back
Your son in liberty?

Heg.
You've done, Philocrates,
What I can never thank you for enough,—
So much you merit from my son and me.

Philop.
Nay, but you can, my father, and you shall,
And I shall too:—the Gods too will enable you
Amply to pay a kindness back to one,
Who has deserv'd so highly of us both.—
Indeed, my father, but you must.

Heg.
No more,—
(To Phil.)
I've no tongue to deny whate'er you ask.

Phil.
I ask of you that slave I left behind
An hostage for me, (one, who ever has
Prefer'd my interest to his own,) that so
I may reward him for his services.

Heg.
Your services I'll thankfully repay.—
That which you ask, and that and any thing
Which you require, you may at once command.—
Don't be offended, that your slave has felt
The marks of my displeasure.

Phil.
How displeasure?

Heg.
Finding myself impos'd upon, in chains
I had him laid, and sent him to the quarries.

Phil.
Ah me! it grieves me, that this best of fellows
Should undergo these hardships for my sake.

Heg.
I will have nothing therefore for his ransom:—
Freed, without cost, so take him.

Phil.
Kindly done.
But let him, pray, be sent for strait.

Heg.
He shall.
(To attendants)
Where are you?—Go, bring Tyndarus here directly.—
Do you go in.— (To Phil. and Philop.)
Mean time will I examine
This whipping-post, to learn what he has done
With my poor younger son.—You'll bath the while.

Philop.
Philocrates, you'll follow.

Phil.
I attend you,

[Exeunt Philopolemus and Philocrates.

SCENE III.

HEGIO and STALAGMUS.
HEGIO.
My honest lad!—come hither;—my fine slave!

Stal.
What d'ye expect from Me, when such a man,
As you are, will tell lies?—An honest lad!
A fine slave! I ne'er was, nor ever shall be;—
Hope not to make me so.

Heg.
You see at once
Your situation:—if you speak the truth,
You'll better your bad fortune:—speak it then,—
Be true and just, though you was never so
In all your life before.

Stal.
And do you think
I blush to own it, when yourself affirm it?

Heg.
But I shall make you blush;—nay, I will make you
Redden all over.

Stal.
So!—you threaten me
As though I were not used to stripes.—Away then—
Say, what's your pleasure?—'Tis but ask, and have.

Heg.
Fine talking this!—To cut the matter short,
Prithee be brief.

Stal.
I'll do as you command.

Heg.
O he was ever an obedient lad!—
But to the business.—Now attend, and answer me
To what I ask you:—if you speak the truth,
You'll better your condition.

Stal.
That's a joke!—
Can you imagine, that I do not know
What I deserve?

Heg.
But yet you may avoid
A part, if not the whole.

Stal.
A trifling part:—
Much is my due;—because I ran away,
And stole your son, then sold him.

Heg.
Sold! to whom?

Stal.
Theodoromedes the Polyplusian
Of Ælis, for six Minæ.

Heg.
O ye Gods!
He is the father of this same Philocrates.

Stal.
I know him better than I know yourself,
And I have seen him oft'ner.

Heg.
Jove supreme
Preserve me and my son!—Hoa there!—Philocrates!
I beg you, as you love me, to come forth:—
I have to say to you—

SCENE IV.

Enter PHILOCRATES.
Phil.
Behold me here:
Command me what you will: say, what's your pleasure?

Heg.
This fellow tells me, that he sold my son
At Ælis to your father for six Minæ.

Phil.
(to Stal.)
How long was this ago?

Stal.
Near twenty years.

Phil.
He says what is not true.

Stal.
Or you or I do.—
Your father gave you, when a child, a slave
Of four years old for your own use and service.

Phil.
What was his name?—If what you say is true,
Tell me his name.

Stal.
His name was Pægnium
But afterwards you call'd him Tyndarus.

Phil.
How came I not to recollect you?

Stal.
'Tis
The usual way with folks not to remember
Or know the man, whose favour is worth nothing.

Phil.
Tell me,—that slave, you sold unto my father,
And giv'n to me for my own service, was he
This old man's son?

Heg.
Lives he?

Stal.
I had the money,
I car'd for nothing more.

Heg.
What says Philocrates?

Phil.
That he, this very Tyndarus, is your son,
The proofs shew.—He was brought up from a boy
With me a boy in modesty and virtue
Even to manhood.

Heg.
If ye speak the truth,
I am indeed both happy and unhappy.
I am unhappy, if he is my son,
That I have us'd severity towards him.
Ah me! I've treated him with less affection,
And with more cruelty than it behoved me.
It grieves me, I have wrought him so much harm:—
Would it had ne'er been done!—But see, he comes,
Accoutred little suiting to his virtues.

SCENE V.

Enter TYNDARUS.
I've often seen the torments of the damn'd
In pictures represented: but no Hell
Can equal that, where I was, in the Quarries.
That is a place, where ev'ry limb with toil
And labour must be wearied.—Soon as I
Arriv'd there,—as your brats of quality
Have daws, or ducks, or quails to play with,—me
They gave, t'amuse myself withal, a Crow.—
But see, my master's here before his door!
My other master too, return'd from Ælis!

Heg.
Save you, my wish'd for son!

Tynd.
Ha! what?—your son!
Yes, yes, I understand you, why you call
Yourself my father, me your son:—you've done,
As parents do,—caus'd me to see the light.

Phil.
Save you, sweet Tyndarus!

Tynd.
And you too,—though
On your account I undergo this trouble.

Phil.
But through my means you'll now arrive at wealth
And liberty.—This is your father,— (pointing to Hegio.)

This
(pointing to Stalagmus,)
The slave, that stole you hence at four years old,
And sold you to my father for six Minæ,
Who gave you to me, then a little boy
Like to yourself, for my own use and service.
He has confess'd the whole: we've brought him back
From Ælis hither.

Tynd.
Where is Hegio's son?

Phil.
Your brother,—he's within.

Tynd.
How say you? have you
Then brought him home?

Phil.
I tell you, he's within.

Tynd.
'Twas rightly done in you.

Phil.
This is your father,
And that the thief, who stole you when a boy.

Tynd.
And for that theft, now I'm a man as he is,
I'll give him to the hangman.

Phil.
He's deserving.—

Tynd.
And I'll reward him equal to his merits.—
(To Hegio.)
But tell me, pray,—are you indeed my father?

Heg.
I am, my son.

Tynd.
At length I recollect,
And have a dark remembrance, that I've heard
My father's name was Hegio.

Heg.
I am he.

Phil.
O let your son be lighten'd of those chains,
And that slave loaded with them.

Heg.
'Tis my purpose;
I'll do it the first thing.—Then let us in,
And strait send for the smith to take the chains
From off my son, and give them to that rascal.

Stal.
'Tis right to give them me, for I have nothing.

[Exeunt.