 | The Carthaginian |  |
277
PROLOGUE.
My pattern I've a mind to make The Achilles
Of Aristarchus—From that Tragedy
I'll take my opening to this Comedy.
Hist then!—Be silent, and attend—Our chief,
The manager, would have you all to hear;
And in your places with good humour sit,
Whether or full, or fasting ye are come.
Those who have din'd, I look upon as wisest:
Such as have not, may dine upon the Play.
In him, who has his dinner, by our favour,
Thus ready cook'd before him; it were foolish,
To sit here fasting, with an empty stomach.
Ho!—Cryer there!—Stand up, proclaim attention,
I wait to see whether you know your duty.
Come, exercise your lungs; by which you eat,
Get clothes and living.—For unless you cry
Out lustily, unheard you'll starve in silence.
Well, to have double wages, now sit down.
Of Aristarchus—From that Tragedy
I'll take my opening to this Comedy.
Hist then!—Be silent, and attend—Our chief,
The manager, would have you all to hear;
And in your places with good humour sit,
Whether or full, or fasting ye are come.
Those who have din'd, I look upon as wisest:
278
In him, who has his dinner, by our favour,
Thus ready cook'd before him; it were foolish,
To sit here fasting, with an empty stomach.
Ho!—Cryer there!—Stand up, proclaim attention,
I wait to see whether you know your duty.
Come, exercise your lungs; by which you eat,
Get clothes and living.—For unless you cry
279
Well, to have double wages, now sit down.
Heaven grant success!—Now my commands obey—
Let no stale mistress sit upon the stage—
Let not the Lictors, or his rods be noisy;
Nor while the actor's still upon the stage,
Shew any to their seats: those who have ta'en
Too long a nap at home, 'tis fit should stand;
And be content, nor think of sleeping here.
Let the slaves stand, that freemen may sit down,
Or pay for seats, if they have wherewithal.
Or else march home, and 'scape a double evil;
Here to be beat with rods, at home with thongs,
If things be not in order, when their masters
Come back again. Let nurses keep their bantlings
At home, nor hither think of bringing them,
Lest they should die with thirst, their brats with hunger;
Or, when they want the teat, should baa like kids
For milk. Let matrons silent see the piece,
And smile in silence too; nor with their voices,
Loud as they're shrill, come to this place to babble.
Home is the place to hold their prittle-prattle;
Nor teaze their husbands here, and at home too.
Let no stale mistress sit upon the stage—
Let not the Lictors, or his rods be noisy;
280
Shew any to their seats: those who have ta'en
Too long a nap at home, 'tis fit should stand;
And be content, nor think of sleeping here.
Let the slaves stand, that freemen may sit down,
Or pay for seats, if they have wherewithal.
Or else march home, and 'scape a double evil;
Here to be beat with rods, at home with thongs,
If things be not in order, when their masters
Come back again. Let nurses keep their bantlings
At home, nor hither think of bringing them,
Lest they should die with thirst, their brats with hunger;
Or, when they want the teat, should baa like kids
For milk. Let matrons silent see the piece,
And smile in silence too; nor with their voices,
Loud as they're shrill, come to this place to babble.
Home is the place to hold their prittle-prattle;
Nor teaze their husbands here, and at home too.
And now to you, the umpires of our Piece,
Be ye impartial; give to no comedian
The palm of honour, but as merit claims.
For private pique, or interest none exclude;
Lest to good actors you prefer the bad.
Be ye impartial; give to no comedian
The palm of honour, but as merit claims.
For private pique, or interest none exclude;
Lest to good actors you prefer the bad.
281
This one thing more, I had almost forgot—
Rush, while we're acting, to the cake-house, lacqueys,
Now is your time, run, while the rolls are hot.
These are the manager's commands—By Hercules!
All would have good success, if for himself
Each one would put remember these his orders—
Rush, while we're acting, to the cake-house, lacqueys,
Now is your time, run, while the rolls are hot.
These are the manager's commands—By Hercules!
All would have good success, if for himself
Each one would put remember these his orders—
Now to the story of the Comedy—
That you may be as wise as I myself,
Its scite, its bounds, abutments I'll lay down;
For you must know that I am made surveyor—
But first of all, if you so please, I'll give you
The name of this our Piece—If you don't please,
I'll tell it ne'ertheless—For I've authority
From those who manage—This same Play in Greek
Is call'd The Carthaginian; but in Latin
'Tis term'd by Plautus, The Pulse-eating Uncle.
You have the name; and now shall know the rest.
'Tis here our story will be criticiz'd;
On its own stage its judgement 'twill receive.
You are the criticks; exercise your office.
There were two brothers, Carthaginians both,
That you may be as wise as I myself,
Its scite, its bounds, abutments I'll lay down;
For you must know that I am made surveyor—
But first of all, if you so please, I'll give you
The name of this our Piece—If you don't please,
I'll tell it ne'ertheless—For I've authority
From those who manage—This same Play in Greek
Is call'd The Carthaginian; but in Latin
'Tis term'd by Plautus, The Pulse-eating Uncle.
282
'Tis here our story will be criticiz'd;
On its own stage its judgement 'twill receive.
You are the criticks; exercise your office.
Both opulent, and of a noble family:
One yet is living, but the other's dead.
And this with greater confidence I say,
Because the embalmer, who embalm'd him told me.
The brother who is dead, had but one son.
This only son, when seven years old was stolen
From Carthage, and secreted from his father—
Six years indeed before the old man's death.—
He, seeing he had lost his only son,
283
Then, without taking leave, set out for Acheron.
The kidnapper brought off the child to Calydon;
Here sold him to a rich old man, desirous
Of having children, but averse to marriage.
This old man bought him, without knowing him
To be the son of his old host at Carthage,
Adopted him, and made him when he died
His heir—The young man lives there in that house—
To Carthage shall I now return again—
Have you, good folks, any commands at Carthage?
If so, pay down the ready, or you trifle—
But if you pay it, you will trifle more—
This old man's uncle, old, and living still
At Carthage, had two daughters—Five years old
Was one, the other four: when with their nurse
Together they were lost: and from Megara,
By stealth, convey'd away to Anactorium.
There the kidnapper sold for ready money
Both nurse and children, to a man, (if pandars
Are men) the most accursed upon earth—
Yourselves may farther guess what kind of man
284
From Anactorium, where he liv'd before,
He, on account of gain, remov'd but lately
Hither to Chalydon—In that house he lives.
By that young man here, ignorant who she is,
And little thinking she's his own relation.
Yet he has ne'er enjoy'd her; he's so harrass'd
By that vile pandar, and so tantaliz'd—
As yet he has neither privately debauch'd her,
Nor brought her home in publick, as his own.
The rascal would not part with her: but seeing
How the youth lov'd her, rais'd his price the higher.
The younger sister is a captain's flame,
Who fain would purchase her to be his mistress.
The Carthaginian, having lost his daughters,
Seeks them by sea and land; and at each town
Finds out the courtezans, where'er they live:
Gives gold, prolongs the night in his enquiries,
Whence, of what family, of what estate,
Servile, or free; taken in war, or stolen.
So wisely of his daughters he pursues
The search; so subtlely too. All languages
285
A Carthaginian. 'Twas but yesten eve,
In short, he landed at this port. The father
Of these two girls is uncle to the youth.
D'ye take it? If you do, then draw it out:
Break it not short; but let the Play go on—
[going.
286
He who adopted this young man, was guest,
And well received by the Carthaginian,
Who will this day be here, and find his daughters;
With this his brother's son—as I've been told.
Well, I go in and dress. And you with coolness,
Remember this—He who to-day arrives here,
Will find his daughters and his brother's son.
Then fare ye well—Attend—I'll go, e'er long
To appear another man. For what remains,
Some remain here, who will explain it to you—
Farewell—Now favour us.—And so the goddess
Salvation be propitious to you all.
| The Carthaginian | |