 | The Courtezans |  |
3
PROLOGUE.
SILENUS mounted on his Ass.SILENUS.
Strange by my troth 'twould be, if the spectators,
Upon their seats, don't interrupt the sport
To-day; and cough, and snort, furrow their brow
Groan, hiss with serpent tongue, and mutter curses.
Actors and dancers beardless, in their prime,
Can scarce find room upon the stage; they'll say,
Why does this old lethargick go-between
Appear, thus riding on an ass's back?
I beg you'd hear, and give me your attention.
The title of this calm, this quiet comedy
I'm going to unfold—And 'tis but right
You should be silent, when a god commands.
Who come to see, and not to bawl, unfit
It is, they use the office of their tongues.
Give me your vacant ears—I mean not into
My hands—Those vacant ears I would my voice
Should strike—D'ye fear the stroke would give more pain
Which opes the ears, than that which shuts the mouth?
You're very kind indeed—Your merit claims
The blessing of the gods—Your silence is
Profound—The very children hold their tongues.
Attend to him who tells you this new tale.
In a few words, both who I am, and why
I come, I will disclose; and what our comedy
Is call'd—I'll tell you what you wish to hear,
Therefore attend—I'm one of nature's gods,
The foster father of the mighty Bromius,
Who victories with a female army gain'd—
Of all his great exploits which fame applauds,
Many there were by my advice accomplished.
Whate'er I like, he does not disapprove.
'Tis right a father should a father please.
Ass-carried god Ionian actors call me,
Because I'm old, and ride astride an ass.
Now, who I am you know—And since you know,
Let me disclose the title of our comedy,
And then, you'll know why I am hither come.
Philemon gave it to the stage in Greek;
They who speak Greek call it Evantides.
Plautus in Latin calls it Bacchides—
No wonder I appear to-day before you,
Bacchus has sent you Bacchides; who are
True Bacchanalian Bacchants; and I've brought them.
What! have I told a fib?—It don't become
A god to lye; therefore I'll tell the truth.
I brought them not—My ass with weary pace
Brings three, if I remember rightly: one
You see.—But, look what in my mouth I bring,
Two Samian sisters, Bacchanalians both,
Of the same parents, at the same hour born:
They're twins by birth, and buxom merry jades,
Not less alike than milk to milk, if you
Compare them; or than water is to water—
You'd think them halv'd should you but see them once,
So strangely would your eyesight be confus'd,
You never could distinguish one from th'other.
Upon their seats, don't interrupt the sport
To-day; and cough, and snort, furrow their brow
4
Actors and dancers beardless, in their prime,
Can scarce find room upon the stage; they'll say,
Why does this old lethargick go-between
Appear, thus riding on an ass's back?
I beg you'd hear, and give me your attention.
The title of this calm, this quiet comedy
I'm going to unfold—And 'tis but right
You should be silent, when a god commands.
Who come to see, and not to bawl, unfit
It is, they use the office of their tongues.
Give me your vacant ears—I mean not into
My hands—Those vacant ears I would my voice
Should strike—D'ye fear the stroke would give more pain
5
You're very kind indeed—Your merit claims
The blessing of the gods—Your silence is
Profound—The very children hold their tongues.
Attend to him who tells you this new tale.
In a few words, both who I am, and why
I come, I will disclose; and what our comedy
Is call'd—I'll tell you what you wish to hear,
Therefore attend—I'm one of nature's gods,
The foster father of the mighty Bromius,
Who victories with a female army gain'd—
Of all his great exploits which fame applauds,
Many there were by my advice accomplished.
Whate'er I like, he does not disapprove.
'Tis right a father should a father please.
Ass-carried god Ionian actors call me,
Because I'm old, and ride astride an ass.
Now, who I am you know—And since you know,
Let me disclose the title of our comedy,
And then, you'll know why I am hither come.
6
They who speak Greek call it Evantides.
Plautus in Latin calls it Bacchides—
No wonder I appear to-day before you,
Bacchus has sent you Bacchides; who are
True Bacchanalian Bacchants; and I've brought them.
What! have I told a fib?—It don't become
A god to lye; therefore I'll tell the truth.
I brought them not—My ass with weary pace
Brings three, if I remember rightly: one
You see.—But, look what in my mouth I bring,
Two Samian sisters, Bacchanalians both,
Of the same parents, at the same hour born:
They're twins by birth, and buxom merry jades,
Not less alike than milk to milk, if you
Compare them; or than water is to water—
You'd think them halv'd should you but see them once,
7
You never could distinguish one from th'other.
Now what remains you long to hear—Then silence,
While I unfold the story of the comedy.
What country Samos is, is known to all;
Whose seas, whose lands, whose mountains, and whose islands
Your legions have made easy of access—
There, at one labour, to Pyrgoteles
Her husband, Sostrata twin daughters bore.
Bacchus' triennial mysteries were then
Performing: they, partaking of them, made
As men are wont, the season ominous,
And to each daughter gave the name of Bacchis—
The one, a captain carried into Crete—
The other sail'd away to Athens—This
Mnesilochus, the son of Nicobulus,
No sooner saw than lov'd; in the interim
He made her visits—During this interval
His father sent the youth to Ephesus,
To bring the gold he had deposited.
Some time before, with Archidemides
An ancient friend of his, an old Phœnician.
When he had liv'd two years at Ephesus,
The cruel news had reach'd his ears, that Bacchis
Had quitted Athens—Sailors, whom he knew,
Brought the unpleasing news—To Pistoclerus,
Philoxenus's son, his bosom friend,
He wrote, with th'utmost care and diligence
To search for, and find out his fugitive.
While Pistoclerus labour'd for his friend,
The twins, who had to Athens just return'd,
Rais'd in the enquirer's breast the flame of love.
The one, by her allurements, gain'd his heart,
The other staid in waiting for Mnesilochus.
No wonder, these engaging twins, these bacchants,
With all their beauty and their soothing arts,
Two youthful Bacchanalians should attract;
Since both their fathers bow'd with weight of years,
Decrepit, quite worn out, they could ensnare.
See! Pistoclerus is returning back
To the twin sisters he has lately found,
And blows the sparks of love, new kindled in
His breast—Now I go in—Be you attentive—
While I unfold the story of the comedy.
What country Samos is, is known to all;
Whose seas, whose lands, whose mountains, and whose islands
Your legions have made easy of access—
There, at one labour, to Pyrgoteles
Her husband, Sostrata twin daughters bore.
Bacchus' triennial mysteries were then
Performing: they, partaking of them, made
As men are wont, the season ominous,
And to each daughter gave the name of Bacchis—
The one, a captain carried into Crete—
The other sail'd away to Athens—This
Mnesilochus, the son of Nicobulus,
No sooner saw than lov'd; in the interim
He made her visits—During this interval
His father sent the youth to Ephesus,
To bring the gold he had deposited.
Some time before, with Archidemides
An ancient friend of his, an old Phœnician.
When he had liv'd two years at Ephesus,
The cruel news had reach'd his ears, that Bacchis
Had quitted Athens—Sailors, whom he knew,
8
Philoxenus's son, his bosom friend,
He wrote, with th'utmost care and diligence
To search for, and find out his fugitive.
While Pistoclerus labour'd for his friend,
The twins, who had to Athens just return'd,
Rais'd in the enquirer's breast the flame of love.
The one, by her allurements, gain'd his heart,
The other staid in waiting for Mnesilochus.
No wonder, these engaging twins, these bacchants,
With all their beauty and their soothing arts,
Two youthful Bacchanalians should attract;
Since both their fathers bow'd with weight of years,
Decrepit, quite worn out, they could ensnare.
See! Pistoclerus is returning back
To the twin sisters he has lately found,
And blows the sparks of love, new kindled in
His breast—Now I go in—Be you attentive—
| The Courtezans | |