University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The PROLOGUE.

Enter AUXILIUM.
Aux.
How this old soul loves
To tattle, and to tipple!—Tho' a god,
She has scarce left me any thing to say.
She has forestall'd the market with her prate
Of this supposititious girl; when, had she
But held her tongue, I, who am call'd a god,
Could have explain'd it better—For my name's
Auxilium—Now attend me, and I'll tell you
How the plot lies.—At Sicyon were the feasts
Of Bacchus not long since, to which there came
A certain Lemnian merchant—Full of wine
And youth, he in the street, at dead of night,
Compress'd a girl—Conscious, for such a crime
What he deserv'd, he, with his heels took shelter,
And quick made off to Lemnos, where he liv'd.
The girl was here deliver'd of a daughter,
After due time; and, ignorant of the man
That did the deed, her father's servant made
Partaker of her project; and to him
Gave the poor girl to be to death expos'd.
This he strait did—This woman took her up—
The servant cunningly observ'd the place,
The house, to which the bantling was convey'd.
The Bawd, as you have heard her own, but now,
Gave her the courtezan Melænis, who
As her own daughter, educated her
In honesty and virtue—Now, this Lemnian
Married a neighbour, and a near relation.
The wife was complaisant enough, and died—
He, having paid due honours to her memory,
Came hither, and was married to the girl
He had compress'd; and knew her for the same.
She told him, she, from the compression, was
Deliver'd of a daughter, whom she gave
To a servant, to expose immediately.
That servant strait he orders to search out,
If e'er she might be found who took her up:
The servant to this task applied himself,
Assiduous to find out the courtezan,
Whom he, from his concealment, had observ'd
To take away the child he had expos'd.
I'll tell you now all that remains untold,
And so discharge my debt—A youth there lives
At Sicyon;—his father is alive—
This expos'd girl he loves to excess, the same
You saw but now go weeping to her mother:
She pays his love with that, which of all loves
The sweetest is, love mutual.—But such is
The state of all things human, that no bliss
Of man's perpetual—The father thinks
To give his son a wife—Her mother hears it,
And sends for her directly to come home.
And thus the matter stands—Farewell! and conquer,
As you was wont, with valour undismay'd.
Retain your old allies, support your new ones.
Still your supplies by your just laws increase.
Destroy your foes, and praise and laurels gather—
And may the vanquish'd Carthaginians still
Feel from your arms their proper punishment.

[Exit.