University of Virginia Library

To tell the argument of this our play
I have the courtesy, if ye will have
The kindness but to hear it. Whoso will not,
Let him get up, go out, and to another
Resign his seat, that would be glad to hear.
I'll tell you now the name and argument
Of this same play we are about to act,
Por which ye are seated in this mirthful place.
In Greek the comedy is stil'd Alazon,
Which, render'd in our tongue, we call The Braggard.
This town is Ephesus. The Captain, he
That went hence to the Forum, is my master,
An impudent, vain-glorious, dunghill-fellow,
As full of lies as of debauchery.
He makes his brag forsooth, that he is follow'd
By all the women; though he is the jest
Of all, where'er he goes. Our very harlots,
That wooe him to their lips, make wry mouths at him.
It is not long, since I have been his slave;
And I should tell you how, into his service
I chanc'd to come from him I serv'd before.

Attend: the argument I now begin.
I had a master, 'twas the best of youths,
At Athens: he upon a damsel doated,
(Herself too an Athenian,) she on him;—
And sweet the cultivation of such love!
My master on a public embassy
Went to Naupactum, on account and part
Of our most high republic: in the interim
This captain, who by chance to Athens came,
Insinuates himself into her company,
My master's love; sets him about to coax
And wheedle the good mother with his presents
Of gewgaw ornaments, his precious wines,
And costly banquets, so that he becomes
An intimate familiar with the bawd.
Soon as occasion did present, he trick'd
This bawd her mother, and without her knowledge
Seiz'd on the girl, clap'd her on board a ship,
And carried her against her will to Ephesus.
Soon as I learn'd, that she was borne away
From Athens, I, with all the speed I could,
Got me a vessel, and embark'd, to bear
The tidings to my master at Naupactum.
When we were out at sea, the pirates took
The vessel I was in, a prize to them
Most grateful, and I found myself undone,
Ere I could reach the place where I was going.
The rogue, that took us, gave me to this captain:
When he had brought me home unto his house,
Whom should I see there but this very damsel,
Her whom my master lov'd, who was at Athens!
She saw me on her side, and with her eyes
Gave me a sign not to take notice of her,
Nor call her by her name. After a while,
When she had opportunity, the damsel
'Plain'd to me of her fortunes,—said, she long'd
To fly from hence to Athens, that she lov'd
My master the Athenian, hated no one
Worse than this captain. Soon as I had learnt
The damsel's sentiments, I took a tablet,
Seal'd it in private, gave it to a merchant
To carry to my master, the girl's lover,
That hither he might haste. He slighted not
The message,—for he's come, and now he lodges
In the next house here with his father's friend,
Who seconds his fond guest in his amour,
And aids us both in counsel and in deed.
A grand contrivance have I therefore form'd,
That they may meet together, these two lovers:
For in the chamber, giv'n her by the captain
For no one to set foot in but herself,
I've dug an opening through into this house,
With the consent of our old neighbour,—nay
Himself advis'd it.—Now my fellow-servant,
Appointed by the captain for her keeper,
Is a dull rascal, and of little worth:
With pleasant stratagems and quaint devices
We'll cast so thick a film athwart his eyes,
Shall make him not to see what he shall see.
But I should tell you, to prevent mistakes,
The damsel will perform a double part,
And bear the form and image of two persons,
Now here, now there; but she will be the same,
Though she will counterfeit herself another:
So shall her keeper be most rarely gull'd.—
I hear a noise here at our neighbour's door:
'Tis he himself comes out. This, this is he,
The pleasant brisk old fellow, that I spoke of.