University of Virginia Library

PROLOGUE.

These Captives you see standing here before you,
Sit not,—they stand. You are my witnesses,
Who see 'tis so, that what I say is true.
Old Hegio, who lives here, calls one his son;
But by what means that son is now a slave
To his own father, give me your attention,
And I'll explain.—This Hegio had two sons;
One, when but four years old, a slave had stolen,
And, flying into Ælis, sold him to
The father of this other captive here.
Thus far d'ye understand me?—It is well.—
Yet I see one at distance, who in troth
Seems as he heard not.—Prithee, friend, come nearer;
If not to sit, there's room at least to walk.
What! would you make the player strain his voice,
As if he were a beggar asking alms?
Mistake not, I'll not crack my lungs for you.—
But you, who from your rank have wherewithal
To be assess'd, hear what I've more to say;
I care not for the vulgar.—As I told you,
The slave ran off, and to this captive's father
Sold his young master, whom the knave had stolen.
No sooner had the old man made the purchase,
Than, as their ages nearly were the same,
He made him wait on his own son; and now
He is a slave in his own father's house,
Nor does his father know he is his son.
True is it, that the Gods us mortal creatures
Hold but as balls to band about in sport.
How Hegio lost one of his sons, you thus
Have an account.—Since that, his other son,
When Ælis and Ætolia were at variance,
Was made a prisoner by the chance of war.
Menarchus, a physician, purchased him
At Ælis.—Hegio, good old man, on this
Began to trade for captives with the Ælians,
In hopes of finding one some time or other,
With whom to barter for his son; not knowing,
His present captive was in truth his son.
But hearing yesterday there was a captive
Of an high rank and family from Ælis,
(Since to regain his son and bring him home
He spar'd no cost) this captive and his slave
He purchas'd of the Quæstors from the spoil.
These, that the master through his servant's means
Might home return, have thought of this contrivance.
They've chang'd their name and dress; and Tyndarus
Is call'd Philocrates, Philocrates
Call'd Tyndarus; the master personates
The servant, while the servant personates
The master.—Tyndarus, the servant, now
Will play his tricks so well, that he'll procure
His master liberty. By the same means
He'll save his brother too, and bring him back
In freedom to his country and his father,
Without design.—And so it happens oft
In many instances; more good is done
Without our knowledge, than by us intended.
Thus each, unconscious of the consequence,
Form'd and devis'd this trick, and this the issue
Of their design, that he should be a slave
To his own father; so indeed he is,
But knows it not.—When I reflect upon it,—
What creatures are we men! how insignificant!—
This is the subject matter of the play
We are about to represent to you.
But one thing I'd remind you:—it will be
To your advantage to attend our play:
For 'tis not in the common stile, nor yet
Like other plays:—here are no ribald lines
Unfit to be remember'd; here you'll find
No infamous abandon'd courtesan;
No rascal pimp, no Braggard Captain here.
Be not concern'd, for that I have inform'd you
The Ælians and Aetolians are at war:
Their battles will be fought without our scenes;
For when our stage is fitted up with all
It's comic decorations, then to aim
At acting of a tragedy, would seem
Strangely absurd. If therefore any here
Expect a battle, let him ground his quarrel.
And if perchance he light upon a foe
Much stronger than himself, I'll here engage
The battle he will be spectator of,
Will not much suit his taste; nor will he like
To look on any battle ever after.
But I retire.—In peace most upright judges,
In war most valiant combatants, Adieu!