CAPTIVI
THE CAPTIVES/THE PRISONERS

PLAUTUS


The text below it copied from the Project Gutenberg EBook of Amphitryo, Asinaria, Aulularia, Bacchides,
Captivi, by Plautus Titus Maccius

Editor: Paul Nixon
Translator: Paul Nixon
Release Date: August 20, 2005 [EBook #16564]

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ARGUMENT OF THE PLAY

One of Hegio's sons has been taken prisoner in a battle with the Eleans; the other was stolen by a runaway slave and sold when he was four years old. The father, in his great anxiety to recover the captured boy, bought up Elean prisoners of war; and among those that he purchased was the son he had lost many years before. This son, having exchanged clothes and names with his Elean master, secured the latter's release, taking the consequences himself. This master of his returned, bringing Hegio's captive son, and along with him that runaway slave, whose disclosures led to the recognition of the other son.


DRAMATIS PERSONAE

ERGASILUS, a parasite.

HEGIO, an old gentleman.

SLAVE OVERSEER, belonging to Hegio.

PHILOCRATES, a young Elean captive.

TYNDARUS, his slave, captured with him.

ARISTOPHONTES, a young Elean captive.

A PAGE, in the service of Hegio.

PHILOPOLEMUS, Hegio's son.

STALAGMUS, Hegio's slave.

PROLOGUE


Tyndarus and Philocrates are chained, in an uncomfortable position, to a pillar in front of Hegio's house.


These two prisoners you see standing here, well, both of those bystanders are men who are—standing, not sitting down. (Prologue laughs uproariously at his pleasantry) I leave it to you if so much is not true. The old man that lives yonder—(pointing to Hegio's house) Hegio, by name—is this man's (pointing to Tyndarus) father.


But how it happens that he is the slave of his own father I shall (jauntily) here in your midst proclaim, with your kind attention. This old gentleman had two sons. One of them, when he was four years old, was stolen by a slave who took to his heels and sold the boy in Elis to the father of this worthy (pointing to Philocrates) here. Now you take me? Very good!


Bless my soul! That gentleman at the back says he does not. Let him step this way—. (no move in audience) In case there is no opportunity to take a seat, sir, you can take a (pointing to an exit) stroll, seeing you insist on making an actor turn beggar. I have no intention of bursting myself, merely to keep you from misunderstanding the plot. (to rest of audience) As for you gentlemen who do own enough property to pay taxes on, let me discharge my debt—none of the credit system for me.


That runaway slave, as I said before, stole his young master when he decamped and sold him to this (indicating Philocrates) man's father. This gentleman, on buying the boy, gave him to this son of his for his very own, the two being of about the same age. Now here he is, back home, his own father's slave without his father knowing it. Ah yes, the gods use us mortals as footballs!


Well, you comprehend the way in which he lost one son. Later, when war broke out between the Aetolians and Eleans, the other son was taken prisoner—a common occurrence in times of war—and a doctor, Menarchus, in that same Elis, bought the young man. Hegio then began to buy up Elean captives, hoping to get hold of one that he could exchange for his son—the captive son, that is: for he has no idea that this man at his home is his own child.


And inasmuch as he heard it rumoured yesterday that an Elean knight of the very highest rank and family connections had been captured, he had no thought of saving money if only he could save his son. So in the hope of getting that son back home more readily he bought both of these prisoners from the commissioners who were disposing of the spoils.


These same prisoners, however, have got together and laid a scheme, as you can see, to the end that the slave here (indicating Tyndarus) may send his master off home. Accordingly, they have exchanged clothes and names with each other. That one (indicating Tyndarus) is calling himself Philocrates, and this one (indicating Philocrates) Tyndarus: each is posing as the other for the time being.


And Tyndarus here is going to work out this trick to-day like an artist, and set his master at liberty. By so doing he will rescue his own brother, too, and enable him to return home to his father a free man, all quite unwittingly,—as in so many cases before now a man has often done more good unconsciously than wittingly.


But all unconsciously, in their trickery, they have so planned and contrived and schemed, acting upon their own ideas, that Tyndarus will stay here as his own father's slave. So now it is his father he is serving unawares. What helpless creatures we mortals be, when I stop to reflect! All this will be fact on the boards, fiction for the benches.


About one thing more, though, I should like to offer a word or two of suggestion. It will undeniably be to your profit to pay attention to this play. It is not composed in the hackneyed style, is quite unlike other plays; nor does it contain filthy lines that one must not repeat. In this comedy you will meet no perjured pimp, or unprincipled courtesan, or braggart captain. Let not my statement that the Aetolians and Eleans are at war alarm you: engagements will take place off the stage yonder.


It would almost amount to imposition, you know, for us, in our comedy get-up, to try to present a tragedy all of a sudden. So if anyone is looking for a battle scene, let him pick a quarrel: if he gets a good strong opponent, I promise him a glimpse of a battle scene so unpleasant that hereafter he will hate the very sight of one.


(turning to go) And so good-bye to you, most just of judges here at home and doughtiest of fighters in the field.
[exeunt Prologue and Captives.

ACT I

enter Ergasilus looking hungry and forlorn.

Erg.
The young fellows have dubbed me Missy, on the ground that whenever they're at their banquets I feel called upon to be with 'em. To be sure, the professional wags say it is an absurd nickname, but I protest it's a good one. For at banquets when the young sparks are playing dice they call upon their missies, yes, their missies, to be with 'em as they make a throw.
Does missy feel called upon to be with 'em, or not? Most unmistakably. But by heaven, I tell you we parasites feel the call more unmistakably still, for no one else ever feels for us or calls us, either. Like mice, we're forever nibbling at some one else's food. When the holidays come, and men hie 'em to their country estates, our grinders take a holiday, too.
It's the same as snails hiding in their holes during the dog days and living on their own juices when there's no dew falling: that's the way with parasites during the holidays—hide in their holes, poor devils, and subsist on their own juices while the people they could get pickings from are in the rural regions ruralizing.
So long as the holidays last we parasites are greyhounds: when they're over we are wolf-hounds and dear-hounds and bore- hounds, very much so. And, by gad, in this town, at least, if a parasite objects to being banged about and having crockery smashed on his cranium, he can betake himself to the far side of Three Arch Gate and a porter's bag. (ruefully) Which is precious likely to be my own fate.
For after my patron fell in with the enemy—the Aetolians, you see, are at war now with the Eleans; this is Aetolia, you understand, and it's there in Elis that Philopolemus is a captive, Philopolemus being the son of Hegio here, the old gentleman that lives in (pointing) that house (and a lamentatious house it is! every time I look at it, it makes me weep!)
—well, now Hegio has taken up his present business, all for his son's sake, ungentlemanly business as it is, and quite beneath a man of his type. He's buying up prisoners of war, to see if he can't come across one to exchange for his boy. And Lord! how I do yearn for him to succeed! You see, it's a matter of his coming home, or my going hungry.
For our young fellows are absolutely unpromising—egoists, the whole lot of 'em! But he is a young gentleman of the old school, that lad: I never smoothed the wrinkles out of his brow without getting more than a thankye for it. His father is just such another perfect gentleman. Now for a call on him. (moves toward Hegio's house) But there goes his door, out of which I've often come so full of food I was fairly tipsy. (withdraws)

Scene 2.
enter Hegio with Slave Overseer.
Hegio
Attention, please, my man. Those two captives that I bought yesterday from the commissioners in charge of the spoils—put the light irons on them and take off the heavy ones they're coupled with.
Let them walk out here or inside, whichever they please; but look after them sharp, mind you. A captive free is a regular wild bird: once given a chance to flit, that is enough—you can never get hold of him again.
Over.
Well, of course sir, we'd all rather be free than slaves.
Hegio
That seems untrue of you at any rate.A
Over.
In case I haven't anything else to give you, how about my giving you—the slip?
Hegio
Give me that, and I shall shortly have something to give you.
Over.
I'll copy that wild bird you speak of.
Hegio
Exactly—for then I'll cage you. But enough of this. Mind my orders and be off with you. I'll drop in at my brother's for a look at my other prisoners, and see if they made any disturbance last night. Then I'll return home again at once.
[exit Overseer into house.
Erg.
(with a loud sigh) It does grieve me to see the poor old gentleman at this gaoler's job for his poor son's sake. (in lower tone) However, if he only manages to get the lad back here somehow, let him turn hangman, too,—I can stand it.
Hegio
(looking round) Who is that speaking here?
Erg.
(stepping forward) I—a man that am all worn out by your woe, that am getting thin, growing old, pining away in sorrow; I'm nothing but skin and bones, I feel for you so. Nothing I eat—at home—ever does me any good, (aside) But how I do relish the merest morsel when I'm dining out!
Hegio
Ah, good day, Ergasilus.
Erg.
God bless you, Hegio, bless you bounteously! (grasps Hegio's hand fervently and bursts into tears)
Hegio
Don't cry.
Erg.
I not cry for him? I not cry my eyes out for such a youth?
Hegio
(somewhat moved) I always did feel that you were a friend to my son, and I realized that he regarded you as one.
Erg.
Ah, we mortals realize the value of our blessings only when we have lost them. Myself now—after your son fell in with the enemy, I have come to understand how much he meant to me, and now I long for him.
Hegio
When an outsider like you takes his misfortune so bitterly, how must I feel, his father, and he my only son?
Erg.
(choking) An outsider? I? An outsider to that boy? Oh-h-h, Hegio! don't say a thing like that, don't let such a thought enter your mind, ever! Your only son, yes,—but he was even more than that to me: he was my only only! (sobs violently)
Hegio
I appreciate this, that you consider your friend's disaster your own. (patting him on the back) Come now, take heart.
Erg.
Oh, dear! oh, dear! here's (rubbing his stomach) where it hurts: my whole commissary department has been disbanded now, you see.
Hegio
(smiling) And meantime haven't you hit upon anyone that could reorganize the department you say is disbanded?
Erg.
Would you believe it? Every one keeps fighting shy of the office ever since your Philopolemus, its duly elected occupant, was captured.
Hegio
Bless my soul! no wonder they fight shy of it. You need many recruits, of many sorts, too: why, in the first place you need Pad-u-ans;B and there are several kinds of Paduans: you need the support of Bologna, and you need Frankfurters too; you need Leghorners and you need Pis-ans, and furthermore you need every fighter in fin land.
Erg.
(appreciatively) How often it does happen that the greatest talents are shrouded in obscurity! This man now—what a generalissimo, and here he is only a private citizen!
Hegio
Well, well, now, take heart. As a matter of fact, I trust we shall have the boy back with us in a few days. For, look you (pointing to house) I have a young Elean prisoner inside here—splendid family, quantities of money: I count on being able to exchange him for my son.
Erg.
(heartily) The gods and goddesses be with you! I say, though,—you haven't been invited out to dinner anywhere?
Hegio
(cautiously) Nowhere, to my knowledge. But why do you ask?
Erg.
Well, to-day is my birthday: so consider yourself invited to take dinner at—your house.
Hegio
(laughing) Well put! But only on condition you can be content with very little.
Erg.
Yes, only don't make it very, very, very little, for that is what I regale myself on constantly at home. Come on, come on, do please say "Done!" (after a pause, formally) In the event of no party making a better offer, more satisfactory to myself and associates, I'll knock myself down to you—on my own terms—just as if I was selling an estate by auction.
Hegio
An estate indeed! You mean an empty state. But if you intend to come, come in season.
Erg.
Oho! I'm at leisure this minute, for that matter.
Hegio
No, no, go hunt your hare: you've got only a hedge-hog so far. For it is a rocky road my table travels.
Erg.
You'll never down me that way, Hegio, and don't you think to do it: I'll be with you just the same—with my teeth shod.
Hegio
My meals are perfect terrors, really.
Erg.
Tearers? Do you eat brambles?
Hegio
Well, things that root in the earth.
Erg.
A porker does that.
Hegio
Mostly vegetables, I mean.
Erg.
Open a sanitarium, then. (turning to go) Anything else I can do for you?
Hegio
Come in season.
Erg.
(cheerfully) The suggestion is superfluous.
[exit.
Hegio
(sighing as he looks at the back of his prospective guest) I must go in and reckon up my bit of a bank balance, and see how low it is. Then to my brother's, where I spoke of going before.
[exit into house.

ACT II
enter from Hegio's house Overseers and Slaves with Philocrates and Tyndarus in fetters: the two have exchanged clothes.
Over.
(to captives, patronizingly) Seeing it's the will of Heaven you're in this box, the thing for you to do is to take it calmly: do that, and you won't have such a hard time of it. At home you were free men, I suppose: since you happen to be slaves at present, it's a good idea to accept the situation and a master's orders gracefully, and make things easy to bear by taking 'em the proper way. Anything a master does is right, no matter how wrong it is.
Captivi
(protestingly) Oh-h-h-h!
Over.
There's no need of howling or crying. It helps to take bad things well.
Tynd.
But to be in chains—we feel disgraced!
Over.
But it's disgusted our master would feel later on, if he took the chains off, or let you loose, when he's paid money for you.
Tynd.
What has he to fear from us? We realise what our duty is, if he should let us loose.
Over.
Ah yes, you're planning to run for it! I see what's afoot.
Philocr.
Run—we? Where should we run to?
Over.
Home.
Philocr.
Get out! The idea of our acting like runaway slaves!
Over.
Lord! why not? I'm not saying you shouldn't, if you get the chance.
Tynd.
(with dignity) Be good enough to grant us one request.
Over.
Well, what is it?
Tynd.
Merely this—give us an opportunity to talk together without being overheard by these good fellows (pointing to slaves) and yourselves.
Over.
All right. (to slaves) Away with you! (to other overseer) Let's drop back here. (to captives) Make it short, though.
Tynd.
Oh yes, that was my intention. (to Philocrates, drawing him farther from slaves) Come this way.
Over.
(to slaves still hanging about) Get out and leave 'em alone. (slaves obey)
Tynd.
(to overseers) We are much obliged to you, both of us, for the privilege of doing as we wish; we owe it to you.
Philocr.
(to Tyndarus) Step over here now, if you please, come over, so that no one may catch what we say and leave us with a scheme that has leaked out. (they move still farther from the overseers) Shrewd management is what makes a trick a trick, you know: once it gets out, it becomes an instrument of torture.
No matter if you are passing as my master and I as your slave, even so we've got to be wary, we've got to be cautious, so that our plan may be worked out in a clear-headed way, quietly and carefully, with discretion and diligence. It's a big job we've got in hand: we can't go to sleep over it.
Tynd.
I will be all you wish me to be, sir.
Philocr.
I hope so.
Tynd.
For that matter, sir, you already see that to save a man I love, I am holding my own life cheap, much as I love it.
Philocr.
I realize it.
Tynd.
But remember to realize it when you get what you want. For, generally speaking, men have a habit of being fine fellows so long as they are seeking some favour; but when they have obtained it there's a change, and your fine fellows turn into villainous cheats of the worst description. In all this, sir, I'm telling you how I wish you to act toward me.
Philocr.
By heaven, I might call you my father, if I chose: for next to my real father you are the best one I have.
Tynd.
I know, I know.
Philocr.
And that's just why I keep reminding you the oftener to remember what the situation calls for: I'm not your master, I'm a slave. Now I beg this one thing of you—since we have unmistakable proof that it's Heaven's will I should no longer be your master but your fellow slave, I, who used to have the right to command you, now implore and entreat you—
Philocr.
by the common peril in which we stand and by my father's kindness to you and by the captivity which the chances of war have brought upon us both, don't feel less respect for my wishes than you did when you were my slave, and remember, remember carefully, both who you were and who you are now.
Yes, yes, I know that I am you for the time being and that you are I.
Philocr.
There! manage to remember to keep that in mind, and this scheme of ours looks likely.

Scene 2.
enter Hegio from house.
Hegio
(to those within) I shall be back directly, if I find out what I want to know from these fellows. (to overseers) Where are those prisoners I had brought out in front of the house here?
Philocr.
(advancing, pertly) Gad! You guarded against having to look for us far, I perceive,—see how we're barricaded with chains and watchmen.
Hegio
The man on his guard against being deceived is hardly on his guard even when he is on his guard, even when he supposed he was on his guard, your guarder has often enough been gulled. Really though, haven't I good reason to take pains to keep you, when I paid so high for you, cash down?
Philocr.
Bless your heart, sir, we haven't any right to find fault with you for trying to keep us, or you with us, if we clear out—if we get a chance.
Hegio
My son is kept prisoner there in your country just as you are here.
Philocr.
Captured?
Hegio
Yes.
Philocr.
Then other folks besides us have been cowards.
Hegio
(leading him farther from Tyndarus) Step over here. There are some matters I wish to ask you about in private. No lying about them, mind.
Philocr.
Not I, sir, not if I know. If I don't know about a thing, I'll (innocently) tell you what I don't know.
Tynd.
(aside, cheerfully) Now the old fellow is in the barber's chair, yes, now we have the clippers on him. And master not even willing to throw a towel over him to keep his clothes clean! Is it going to be a close crop, I wonder, or just a trim?—that's the question. If he knows his business, though, he'll dock him handsomely.
Hegio
See here, would you prefer to be a slave or a free man, tell me that?
Philocr.
The maximum of pleasure and the minimum of pain, that's my preference, sir; but being a slave hasn't bothered me much, though: I wasn't treated any differently than if I'd been a son of the house.
Tynd.
(aside) Well done my boy! I wouldn't buy Milesian Thales at a thousand thalers: why, he was nothing but the veriest amateur of a wise man compared with master here. How cleverly he's dropped into the servant jargon!
Hegio
Who are Philocrates' people there in Elis?
Philocr.
The Goldfields, sir,—the most influential and respected family in those parts easily.
Hegio
And the young man himself? How does he stand?
Philocr.
Very high indeed, sir,—belongs to the highest circles.
Hegio
How about his property? Pretty fat one, eh?
Philocr.
Fat? Old Goldfields could get dripping out of it.
Hegio
What about his father? Is he living?
Philocr.
He was when we left home, whether he's alive now or not, of course you had better inquire below as to that, sir.
Tynd.
(aside) The situation is saved! Now he not only lies but moralizes.
Hegio
What was his name?
Philocr.
Ducatsdoubloonsandpiecesofeightson.
Hegio
A sort of name applied to him on account of his money, I take it.
Philocr.
(apparently struck by a new idea) Lord, no! on account of his being so greedy and grasping, sir.
Hegio
What's that? His father's rather close, is he?
Philocr.
Close? My word, sir! he's adhesive! Why, really,—just so as to give you a better notion of him—whenever he sacrifices to his own Guardian Spirit he won't use any dishes needed in the service except ones made of Samian earthenware, for fear his very Guardian Spirit may steal 'em. You can see from this what a confiding character he is in general.
Hegio
Well, well, come this way with me. (aside, as they join Tyndarus) I'll soon get the information I want out of the master here at the same time. (to Tyndarus) Philocrates, your servant has acted as a worthy fellow ought to act. Yes, I know from him about your family: he has admitted everything. If you choose to be equally open with me, it will be to your advantage: however, I have been completely informed already by him.
Tynd.
(with dignified melancholy) He has done his duty in admitting the truth to you, much as I did wish to keep you in the dark, Hegio, about my rank and birth and wealth; now that I am a man without a country, a prisoner, I suppose it is not to be expected that he should stand more in awe of me than of you. The chances of war have put master and man on an equal footing. I remember the time when he did not venture to offend me by a word: now he is at liberty to do me an actual injury.
But you see! fortune moulds us, pinches us, to suit her whims: here am I, the one-time free man, a slave—tossed from the heights to the depths. Accustomed to command, I am now at another's beck and call. And indeed, if I might have such a master as I myself was when I was the head of a household, I should have no fear of being treated unjustly or harshly. There is one thing I should like to impress upon you, Hegio,—unless you object, maybe.
Hegio
No, no, speak out.
Tynd.
Once I was free as your son; an enemy's success deprived me of my liberty as he was deprived of his; he is a slave in my country as I am here with you. There surely is a God who hears and sees what we do: and according to your treatment of me here, so will he look after your son there. He will reward the deserving and requite the undeserving. Just as you long for your son, so does my father long for me.
Hegio
I know all that—but do you admit the truth of what this fellow has told me?
Tynd.
I do admit that my father is a very wealthy man at home and that I do come of very good family. But, Hegio, I beseech you, don't let my wealth make your demands too exorbitant: for my father, even though I am his only son, might feel that it was better for me to remain your slave, well fed and clothed at your expense, than to come to beggary there at home where it would disgrace us most.
Hegio
I am not a man who regards each and every acquisition of money as a blessing: plenty of people have been tainted before now by this money getting, I know that. There are even times when it certainly is more profitable to lose money than to make it. Gold! I despise it: it has led many a man into many a wrong course.
Now give me your attention. I want you to understand thoroughly what I have in mind. (slowly and emphatically) My son is a prisoner in Elis, a slave there among your countrymen: get him back to me, and without your giving me a single penny in addition, I will let you go home, and your servant, too. On no other terms can you get off.
Tynd.
A very fair and reasonable proposition, sir, and you are the very fairest of men. Does he belong to some private person, though, or to the state?
Hegio
To a private person, a doctor named Menarchus.
Tynd.
(aside) Jove! why, he's a client of master's! (aloud) Why, this will be just as easy for you as rain when it pours.
Hegio
Have him ransomed.
Tynd.
I will. But thus much I beg of you Hegio,—
Hegio
(eagerly) Anything you please, provided my interests don't suffer by it.
Tynd.
Listen, and you can see if they will. I don't ask to be released myself until my servant gets back. But I do urge you to let me have him under a forfeit, to send to father so that your son there can be ransomed.
Hegio
Oh no, I'll send some one else instead when we have an armistice; that will be preferable: he shall confer with your father and carry out your orders to your satisfaction.
Tynd.
But it's no good sending a stranger to him: you'll have frittered away your time. Send him: (pointing to Philocrates) he will transact the whole affair, once he gets there. You can't send him a more reliable man, one he would trust more, a servant that's more to his mind; I may go so far as to say there is no one he would be readier to entrust his own son to. Never fear: I will be responsible for his fidelity. I can depend on his goodness of heart; he appreciates my kindness to him.
Hegio
Very well, I'll send him under a forfeit, on your guarantee, if you wish.
Tynd.
I do wish it. And I wish to have all this an accomplished fact just as quickly as possible.
Hegio
Have you any objection to paying me eighty pounds for him in case he doesn't return?
Tynd.
Not the slightest—fair as can be.
Hegio
(to overseers) Take the chains off that fellow at once, off both of them, in fact.
Tynd.
(as slaves obey) God grant your every wish, sir, for your highly considerate conduct toward me and for releasing me. (aside, stretching himself) I tell you what, it's no unpleasant sensation, having that necklet off one's neck.
Hegio
"A good deed done a good man yields a large return of good." Now if you intend to send that fellow home, inform him, instruct him, give him full particulars as to the message he's to carry your father. Shall I call him over here to you?
Tynd.
Do.

Scene 3.
Hegio
(going to Philocrates) God bless us all in this, me, and my son, and yourselves! My man, your new master wishes you to do something your old master wishes, and to do it faithfully. The fact is, I have given you over to him, under an eighty pound forfeit, he saying he desires to send you off to his father and let him ransom my son there in Elis, so that he may exchange my boy for his own.
Philocr.
I'm quite disposed to do both of you a good turn, sirs, you and him both; you can use me like a wheel, I'll turn your way or his, either way, wherever you like.
Hegio
And you are acting very much to your own advantage in being so disposed, and in accepting your slavery as you should. Follow me. (leading way to Tyndarus) There's your man.
Tynd.
(sedately) I thank you, sir, for affording me this opportunity, of making him my messenger to my parents, so that he may carry to my father a full account of me and my situation here, and what I wish him to see to.
(turning to Philocrates) Tyndarus, this gentleman and I have just arranged that I send you to Elis to father, under a forfeit: if you fail to return, I am to pay him eighty pounds for you.
Philocr.
And a good arrangement, too, in my opinion. For the old gentleman's expecting either me or some messenger to come to him from here.
Tynd.
Well then, I wish you to pay attention to the message I wish you to take home to him.
Philocr.
I'll do the best I can for you, sir, just as I always have: anything that makes for your good, sir, I'll work my hardest for, and follow up with all my heart and soul and strength.
Tynd.
The proper spirit. Now I wish you to pay attention. First of all, remember me to my father and mother and my relatives and anyone else you may see who is interested in my welfare; tell them I am in good health here and a slave of this most estimable gentleman who has always accorded me the (with emphasis) very extraordinary consideration which I still enjoy.
Philocr.
No instructions needed along that line, sir: I can remember to mind that easily enough, without.
Tynd.
For really, aside from the fact that I have a guard, I feel that I am a free man. Tell my father what arrangement this gentleman and I have made regarding his son.
Philocr.
Mere waste of time, sir, to remind me of what I remember.
Tynd.
That he is to ransom him and send him back here in exchange for us both.
Philocr.
I'll remember.
Hegio
Yes, but just as quickly as possible: that's of the highest importance to each of us.
Philocr.
You don't long to see your son any more than he does his, sir.
Hegio
My son is dear to me, as his own son is to every father.
Philocr.
No further message for him, eh?
Tynd.
(somewhat at a loss) Say I am in good health here, and—(earnestly) Tyndarus, speak up boldly to him, yourself,—say that we have never been at variance, that I have never had reason to find fault with you (nor you to think me obstinate) and that you have served your master to the full even in such adversity.
Say that a treacherous act, a disloyal thought were things undreamed of even in the dark hours of distress. When my father knows of this, Tyndarus, knows what your spirit toward his son and himself has been, he will never be so niggardly as not to set you free at his own expense; and if I return, I will put forth my own efforts to make him the more ready to do it.
For it is through your efforts and good will and devotion and wisdom that I have a chance to go back to my parents once more, inasmuch as you informed this gentleman of my family and wealth: thanks to your wisdom in doing so, your master's fetters have been removed.
Philocr.
Right you are, sir, so I did, and I'm glad you remember it. You deserve anything I've done for you, too; why, sir, if I was to go on like that now and mention how many good turns you've done me, it would take all day and more; why, it was just as if you had been my slave, not a bit different, the deferential way you've always treated me.
Hegio
(half aside) Bless my soul, what noble natures! Dear, dear, it brings the tears to my eyes! You can see they are simply devoted to each other, The way that splendid slave praised his own master—a perfect panegyric!
Tynd.
Heavens, sir, he doesn't praise me a hundredth part as much as he deserves to be praised himself.
Hegio
(to Philocrates) Well then, having been such an excellent servant, here is an opportunity to crown your services by carrying through this business for him faithfully.
Philocr.
I'll be just as keen in actually trying to do it as I can be for wanting it done, sir; and to prove it, sir, I swear by God Almighty that I'll never be unfaithful to Philocrates—
Hegio
(heartily) Worthy fellow!
Philocr.
—or ever act any differently by him than I would by my own self.
Tynd.
(with increased earnestness) It is the actual performance, the deed, I wish to test those words by; and inasmuch as I said less than I wished about your conduct, I wish you to pay particular attention,—yes, and be sure not to take offence at what I say. But I beg you, do bear in mind the fact that you are being sent off home, sent home at my risk and under a forfeit, and that I am staking my life for you here:
so don't forget me the moment you are out of sight, when you have left me here in servitude, a slave, in your stead; and don't consider yourself a free man and let your promise go and fail to save me by bringing back this gentleman's son. Be faithful, I entreat you, to one who has shown his faith, and don't falter in that faithfulness. As for my father, I am sure he will do everything he should do. For your part, keep me your friend for ever, and do not lose this friend (indicating Hegio) you have found.
This I beseech you by this hand (grasping Philocrates' right hand), this hand I hold in mine: don't be less true to me than I am to you. (after a pause) Well, to the work! You are my master now, my protector, my father, you and you only: to you I commend my hopes and my welfare.
Philocr.
Enough commands, sir. Will you be satisfied, if I turn your commands to accomplished facts?
Tynd.
Yes.
Philocr.
I'll come back here equipped to suit you (to Hegio) sir, and you, (to Tyndarus) too. Nothing else?
Tynd.
Return as soon as you can.
Philocr.
Naturally, sir.
Hegio
(to Philocrates) Follow me. I must go to the banker's and give you some money for travelling expenses: I'll get a passport from the praetor at the same time.
Tynd.
What passport?
Hegio
One to take to the army with him so that he'll he allowed to go off home. As for yourself, you go inside.
Tynd.
(to Philocrates) A good journey to you.
Philocr.
Good-bye, sir, good-bye!
[exit Tyndarus into Hegio's house.
Hegio
(aside, in high spirits) Well, well, well, it was the making of me when I bought those two from the commissioners! I've set my son at Liberty, God willing! And to think I hesitated for a long time whether to buy them or not!
(to overseers) Please keep an eye on that prisoner inside there, my lads, and don't let him set a foot out here anywhere without a guard. I shall soon be home myself. I'll just step over to my brother's for a look at my other captives: at the same time I'll inquire if any one of them knows this young gentleman. (to Philocrates) Come, my man, so that I may send you off; I want to attend to that first.
[exeunt Hegio and Philocrates.

ACT III
(An hour has elapsed.)
enter Ergasilus, much depressed.
Erg.
It's sad when a man has to spend his time looking for his food and has hard work finding it. It's sadder, though, when he has hard work looking for it and doesn't find it. But it's saddest of all when a man is pining to eat, and no food in range. By gad, if I only could, I'd like to dig the eyes out of this day, it's made every living soul so damnably mean to me!
A more hungriful day, a more bulged- out-with-starvation day, a more unprogressive day for every undertaking, I never did see! Such a famine feast as my inside is having! Devil take the parasitical profession! How the young fellows nowadays do sheer off from impecunious wits!
Not a bit of use have they nowadays for us Spartans, us valiant benchenders, us descendants of old Takesacuff, whose capital is talk without cash and comestibles. The guests they're after are the ones that enjoy a dinner and then like to return the compliment. They do their marketing themselves, too,—that used to be the parasites' province—and away they go from the forum themselves to interview the pimps, just as barefaced as they are in court when they condemn guilty defendants. They don't care a farthing for wits these days: they're egoists, every one.
Why, when I left here a little while ago, I went up to some young fellows in the forum. "Good day," says I. "Where are we going to lunch together?" says I. Sudden silence. "Who says: 'This way'? Who makes a bid?" says I. Dumb as mutes, didn't even give me a smile. "Where do we dine?" says I. A shaking of heads.
I told 'em a funny story—one of my best, that used to find me free board for a month. Nobody smiled. I saw in a moment it was a put-up job; not a one of 'em was even willing to act like a cross dog and at least show their teeth, no matter if they wouldn't laugh.
I left 'em after I saw I was being made a fool of this way, up I went to some others, and then to others, and to others still,—same story. They re all in a combination, just like the oil dealers in the Velabrum.C So here I am back again, seeing I was trifled with there. Some more parasites were prowling round the forum all for nothing, too.
Now I'm going to have the foreign law on those chaps and demand my full rights, I certainly am: it's conspiracy, conspiracy to deprive us of sustenance and life, and I'm going to summon 'em, fine 'em—make 'em give me ten dinners, at my discretion, and that will be when food is dear. That's how I'll catch them. (turning to go) Well, now for the harbour. That's where my one hope is, gastronomically speaking, if that oozes away, I'll come back here to the old man's terror of a meal.
[exit Ergasilus, looking in all directions for a possible host.

Scene 2.
enter Hegio with Aristophontes and Slaves.
Hegio
(highly pleased with himself) Now what makes you feel better than managing your affairs properly and contributing to the common good, just as I did yesterday in buying these prisoners? Whenever anyone sees me up he comes and congratulates me on it! Dear, dear! I was so worn out with all their stopping and detaining me, it got to be frightfully hard work emerging from the flood of felicitations.
At last I escaped to the praetor's. Barely waiting to catch my breath, I asked for a passport, got it on the spot, gave it to Tyndarus: he's off for home. After seeing to that, I first start straight for home. Then I go on to my brother's where the rest of my prisoners are.
Inquire if any one of 'em knows Philocrates of Elis. Finally this fellow (pointing to Aristophontes) calls out that Philocrates is a particular friend of his. I tell him he's at my house; the next instant he's begging and beseeching me for a chance to see him. I had him unfettered at once. (to Aristophontes) Now, sir, come this way, so as to obtain your request and meet your friend.
[exeunt into house: as they go in Tyndarus rushes out.

Scene 3.
Tynd.
(grimly) Now's the time when I should infinitely prefer to be underground than on it! Hope, resources, help—all deserting, all leaving me in the lurch now! My day has come: I can never hope to get out of this alive. Done for, and nothing to be done for it! There's no prospect of staving off the danger, either, and not a thing to drape my crafty lies with.
My falsehoods can't beg themselves off, or my transgressions take to their heels: no lodgings anywhere for brass: guile can't find accommodations. The covert's uncovered, our plot's apparent, everything's out. There's nothing to do about it: I must drop off disagreeably, and come to a painful end for master—also for myself.
He's been the ruin of me, this Aristophontes that just went inside: he knows me: he's a particular friend of Philocrates, related to him, too. Salvation herself can't save me now, if she so desires: there's no chance unless I can invent some clever scheme. But what, curse it? What can I invent? What can I devise? (reflecting, then doubtfully) Oh, this is awful nonsense I'm at, poor simpleton! (disgustedly) Stuck!

Scene 4.
enter Hegio, Aristophontes, and Slaves.
Hegio
Where did that fellow bolt for out of the house just now, I wonder?
Tynd.
(aside) It's all over with me, all over with me now: the enemy are upon you, Tyndarus! What shall I say? What story shall I tell? What shall I deny—or what admit? It's a shaky business for me on every side! What faith can I put in my luck? Oh, I wish the gods had made away with you before you made away from home, Aristophontes,—upsetting my settled plan completely! The game is up, unless I hit upon some awfully clever scheme.
Hegio
(to Aristophontes, on seeing Tyndarus) Come along! There's your man! Go up and speak to him!
Tynd.
(aside, as Aristophontes approaches) What mortal man is in a more confounded hole than this? (pretends not to recognize him)
Arist.
I wonder what you mean by this, Tyndarus,—avoiding my eye and snubbing me as a stranger, quite as if you never knew me? I'm just as much of a slave as you are, to be sure, but at home I was free: as for you, you've been slaving it in Elis from your boyhood up.
Hegio
Bless my soul! I'm not a bit surprised if he avoids you, or your eye, no, nor if he detests you, when you call him Tyndarus instead of Philocrates.
Tynd.
(dragging Hegio aside) Hegio, this fellow was looked upon as a raving maniac in Elis, so don't you let him fill your ears with his babble. Why, at home he chased his father and mother about with a spear, and every once in a while he has an attack of the disease that people spit on.D So get out of his reach, then,—well away.
Hegio
(to slaves) Keep him off! Keep him off!
Arist.
What's that, you rascal? I'm a raving maniac and chased my own father with a spear, you say? I have the disease that calls for my being spat upon?
Hegio
(cheeringly) Never you mind! Many a man's consumed by that disease of yours, who's been helped by being spat on, and it's brought him through.
Arist.
(to Hegio, hotly) How's this? You, too? Do you actually believe him?
Hegio
Believe him in what?
Arist.
That I'm insane?
Tynd.
(to Hegio) Do you see him—that angry glare of his? You'd better leave, Hegio. It's just as I said: a fit's coming on. Look out for yourself!
Hegio
(hastily moving farther off) I thought so, I thought he was crazy, from the moment he called you Tyndarus.
Tynd.
Why, at times he positively forgets his own name and doesn't know who he is.
Hegio
But he was even saying you were an intimate friend of his.
Tynd.
(dryly) Quite so! And the fact is that Alcumeus,E in that case, and Orestes,E and LycurgusE too are intimate friends of mine, just exactly as much.
Arist.
Ha! You scoundrel, do you dare go on maligning me? Don't I know you?
Hegio
Good heavens! It's quite plain you don't know him—calling him Tyndarus instead of Philocrates! The man you see you don't know: you name the man you don't see.
Arist.
No, sir! This fellow says he's the man he isn't, and says he isn't the man he really is.
Tynd.
(to Aristophontes, meaningly) So you have turned up to beat Philocrates in stating facts!
Arist.
Good Lord! As I look at it, you have been unearthed to browbeat facts by stating falsehoods. But come now, confound it, look me in the eye!
Tynd.
(doing so coolly) Well?
Arist.
Now tell me: do you deny that you are Tyndarus?
Tynd.
I do, certainly.
Arist.
You claim to be Philocrates, you?
Tynd.
I certainly do.
Arist.
(to Hegio, exasperated) Do you believe him?
Hegio
More than I do you, surely,—or myself. For you see, the fellow you tell me this man is—he went away to Elis to-day to this man's father.
Arist.
(contemptuously) Father! What do you mean, when he's a slave?
Tynd.
Well, you, too, are a slave and once were free: and (with emphasis) I hope to be so myself, when I have restored this gentleman's son to home and liberty.
Arist.
What's that, you villain? You tell me you were born a freeman?
Tynd.
No indeed, my name is not Freeman, but Philocrates, that's what I say.
Arist.
What's all this? How the rascal's making game of you, Hegio! Why he's a slave himself—the only one he ever had.
Tynd.
(superior) Just because you yourself are poverty- stricken in your own country, with nothing at home to live on, you want to have every one else put in the same list. There is nothing strange in that: it is characteristic of poor beggars to be ill-natured, and envy the well-to-do.
Arist.
Hegio, I beg you take care not to go on with your rash confidence in this fellow. And for that matter, he's certainly given you a fall or two already, I take it. This talk of his about rescuing your son doesn't please me at all.
Tynd.
(with an appealing look) I know you don't want it done; but I'll bring it about, God helping me. (slowly) I will restore his son to this gentleman, and then this gentleman will send me back to Elis to my father. That was why I sent Tyndarus off to my father.
Arist.
Why, you're Tyndarus yourself: and besides you there's not a slave in Elis of that name.
Tynd.
Still taunting me with being a slave, eh? A slave as it happens, because the enemy were too much for us!
Arist.
(angrily) I positively can't control myself any longer!
Tynd.
(apparently alarmed, to Hegio) Aha! Hear what he's saying? Run, why don't you? He'll be after us with stones in a minute, if you don't have him seized.
Arist.
Oh, this is driving me wild!
Tynd.
His eyes are blazing! He's having one, Hegio! See how his whole body is covered with lurid spots? It's black fury that's tormenting the fellow!
Arist.
Now, by the Lord, if this old gentleman did the wise thing, it's black pitch that would torment you at the executioner's, and light up that head of yours!
Tynd.
Now he's got to the raving point! Evil spirits are hounding the man, Hegio. Heavens! You'd do more wisely to have him seized!
Arist.
Oh, damnation! not to have a stone to knock out the brains of this blackguard that's driving me mad with his talk!
Tynd.
Hear that—looking for a stone!
Arist.
(struggling to contain himself) Hegio, I want a word with you all alone.
Hegio
(timorously) Say it from there, if there's anything you want—from away off there. I shall hear it all the same.
Tynd.
That's right, by Jove! for if you go any nearer, he'll bite your nose off.
Arist.
Heavens and earth, Hegio! don't believe I'm insane, or that I have, or ever had, the disease he's talking about. However, if you're at all afraid of me, have me tied up. I am willing, provided that fellow is tied up too.
Tynd.
No indeed, Hegio, certainly not, tie up the fellow that wants it.
Arist.
You keep still, now! I'll soon show you up, you false Philocrates, for the real Tyndarus. (Tyndarus makes signs to him behind Hegio's back) What, are you shaking your head at me for?
Tynd.
I shaking my head at you?
Arist.
(to Hegio) What would he do, if you were farther off?
Hegio
See here, what if I should step up to this lunatic?
Tynd.
Ridiculous! He'll make a fool of you, jabbering something without head or tail to it. Look at this fellow, and you're looking at a regular AjaxF—all but the make-up.
Hegio
I don't care. I'm going to step up to him just the same. (approaches Aristophontes hesitantly)
Tynd.
(aside) Now I'm done for entirely. Now I'm between the axe and the altar, and what to do I don't know.
Hegio
I'm at your service, Aristophontes, if there's anything you want of me.
Arist.
I'll show you, Hegio, that all this you take for a lie is the truth. But first I want to clear myself with you, and assure you that I am not insane, and have no affliction except captivity. And now,—(solemnly) so may the King of heaven and earth restore me to my native land,—that fellow is no more Philocrates than you or I.
Hegio
(impressed) Hey? Tell me, who is he then?
Arist.
The man I told you he was to begin with, a while ago. If you find it otherwise, I make no objection to forfeiting my parents and my liberty and staying here with you.
Hegio
(to Tyndarus) And you—what have you to say?
Tynd.
(urbanely) That I am your servant, and that you are my master.
Hegio
(impatiently) That isn't what I'm asking about. Were you a freeman?
Tynd.
I was.
Arist.
He certainly was not. Absurd!
Tynd.
(superciliously) How do you know? Or were you my mother's midwife, perhaps, that you venture to speak with such assurance on this point?
Arist.
I saw you when we were both boys.
Tynd.
Well, I see you now we are both grown-ups. There's one for you! You wouldn't meddle with my business, if you behaved decently. I don't meddle with yours, do I?
Hegio
Wasn't his father called Ducatsdoubloonsandpiecesofeightson?
Arist.
No sir, he was not, and I never heard that name before to-day. The father of Philocrates was Theodoromedes.
Tynd.
(aside, dryly) I'm jolly well done for. Stop your noise, will you, heart? Go to the deuce, and be hanged to you! Jumping up and down, while I, poor devil, can hardly stand for fear!
Hegio
Am I to take it as absolutely clear that this fellow was a slave in Elis, that he is not Philocrates?
Arist.
So absolutely that you'll never find it to be anything different. But where is Philocrates at present?
Hegio
(savagely) Where I least want him, and he most wants to be. Do, do, see if there's not some mistake, though.
Arist.
No, I'm sure of my ground and fully informed in what I tell you.
Hegio
You're certain?
Arist.
You'll never find a deader certainty than this, I assure you. Philocrates has been a friend of mine ever since he was a boy.
Hegio
So then, I've been trimmed, torn limb from limb, poor fool, by the arts of this rogue, who's taken me in with his tricks to suit his taste! But what does your friend Philocrates look like?
Arist.
I'll tell you—thin face, sharp nose, complexion fair, black eyes, hair a little reddish, waving, and curled.
Hegio
That agrees!
Tynd.
(aside ruefully) Gad! Indeed it does—with my coming into damned unpleasant prominence this day. Alas for those poor whips that are doomed this day to die upon my back!
Hegio
I see I've been duped!
Tynd.
(aside) Come on, ye shackles, run up and embrace my shanks, so that I may keep you safe!
Hegio
Well, haven't those rascal captives taken me in with this day's trickery? The other one pretended he was the slave, while this fellow here played the freeman. I've lost the kernel and kept the shell for surety. That's the way they've daubed my face up for me, ass that I am! (grimly) This one shall never have the laugh on me, at any rate. (stepping to door and calling) Box! Buffum! Bangs! Come! Out with you! Bring your straps!

Scene 5.
enter overseers, carrying heavy rawhides.
Box
(merrily cracking a whip) You don't want us to go and tie up faggots, do you, sir?
Hegio
Clap handcuffs on this rogue. (pointing to Tyndarus)
Tynd.
(as they obey) What does this mean? What have I done?
Hegio
Done! You sower and hoer of sin—(more savagely) and reaper, especially!
Tynd.
(politely) Couldn't you manage to slip in "harrower"? Why, farmers always harrow before they hoe.
Hegio
(angrily) Now look at that! the bold way he stands up to me!
Tynd.
A guiltless, harmless slave ought to face his own master boldly, his own master, of all men.
Hegio
(to overseers) Fasten his hands, tight, mind you!
Tynd.
I am yours. Have them cut off, even, for that matter. But what does this mean? Why this rage at me?
Hegio
Because as far as in you lay you've sent me and my hopes to smash, demolished me, with your rascally deceitful dodges, and spoiled all my chances, all my prospects and plans. That's the way you, got Philocrates off—by swindling me! I supposed he was the slave and you the freeman; that's what you said yourselves; that's how you exchanged names.
Tynd.
(coolly) I admit it: it is all as you say—yes, you were swindled out of him, and it was my support and my scheming that did it. But heavens and earth, that isn't what sets you raging at me, is it?
Hegio
You shall pay for doing it, though, pay for it with your own best blood!
Tynd.
(simply) Provided it is not for wrongdoing, let me die—it matters little. If I myself do die here, and if he does fail to return, as he said he would, what I have done, at least, will be remembered when I am gone—men will tell how I saved my captured master from slavery and from his enemies, restored him, a free man, to his home and his father, and how I chose to put my own life in peril rather than let him die.
Hegio
Well then, you can look in the next world for that glorious name of yours.
Tynd.
The man that dies in a worthy cause does not perish utterly.
Hegio
After I've tortured you in the most excruciating ways possible, and sent you to perdition for the lies you've patched up, let 'em announce that you've perished utterly, or that you've merely died; so long as you're dead, no matter—they can say you're living, for all I care.
Tynd.
You do that, sir, and I swear it will cost you dear, if my master comes back, as I expect him to do.
Arist.
(aside) Great God! Now I see it! Now I understand what it all means! My chum Philocrates is free, has gone home to his father. Good! And not a friend have I got that I wish better luck to, either. But I do feel bad about the cursed way I've treated Tyndarus here! He's got me and my tongue to thank for being strapped up at this moment.
Hegio
Didn't I tell you not to deceive me in the slightest particular?
Tynd.
Yes.
Hegio
Then why did you dare lie to me?
Tynd.
Because the truth would have harmed the person I was trying to help: as it is, deceit has served his turn.
Hegio
It won't serve yours, however.
Tynd.
Very well, sir. I saved my master, at any rate, and I'm happy in having saved the man that my older master put in my care. Really now, do you think this was a wrong act?
Hegio
Atrocious!
Tynd.
Well, sir, I differ with you—I say it was right. Why, just think! if a slave of yours did the same thing for your own son, what would be your feeling toward him? Would you set this slave free, or not? Wouldn't this slave be your favourite? Answer me that.
Hegio
(reluctantly) I suppose so.
Tynd.
Why are you angry at me, then?
Hegio
Because you have been more faithful to him than to me.
Tynd.
What? Did you expect in a single night and day to teach a man just recently captured, a slave you had hardly bought, to consult your interests more than those of the master I grew up from boyhood with?
Hegio
Well then, look to him for your thanks for it. (to overseers) Off with him and have him shackled—heavy ones, solid ones! (to Tyndarus) After that you shall go straight to the stone quarries. There, while the rest of them are digging out their eight blocks a day, you're to do half as much again, or you'll be dubbed The Cracks- collector.
Arist.
Hegio! for God's sake don't let the man be utterly lost!
Hegio
Lost? We'll see to that! Why, at night he'll be chained up in a cell and guarded, and in the daytime he'll be under ground hewing out stone. It's agony long drawn out he'll get from me; I won't end it for him all in one day.
Arist.
(distressed) Is this your fixed intention, sir?
Hegio
Fixed as death! (to overseers) Quick! March him off to Hippolytus the blacksmith and have some solid irons forged on him; then he's to be escorted outside the city to my freedman Cordalus and the quarries. Yes, and tell Cordalus I want it seen to that he be treated quite as well as the man that's treated (ferociously) worst.
Tynd.
Why should I ask for mercy when you refuse it? My life is risked at risk to you. After death, there is no evil in death for me to fear. And even if I live on and on to the very limits of human life, it's still only for a short time I shall have to endure what you threaten me with.
Farewell, sir, and God bless you, no matter if you do deserve to have me wish you something else. As for you, Aristophontes, fare you well—as well as you deserve of me; for it is all on account of you that this has happened to me.
Hegio
(to overseers) Off with him.
Tynd.
But I do ask this one thing of you, sir: if Philocrates comes back, give me a chance to meet him.
Hegio
(to overseers) Out of my sight with him this instant, or I'll murder you! (they seize Tyndarus and hurry him off roughly)
Tynd.
(dryly) Well, well! This is positive violence, being pushed and pulled at the same time.
[exeunt.
Hegio
That rascal is bound straight for the prison cell he's entitled to. I'll make an example of him for the benefit of those other prisoners, so that none of them will dare engage in such deviltry. If it hadn't been for this fellow here who disclosed it all, they'd have bitted me and led me along with their tricks till the end of time.
Never again do I trust a soul in anything, that's settled. Once cheated is enough. (pauses, then gloomily) I hoped, poor fool, that I had ransomed my son from slavery—a hope that's slipped away! I lost one son, a four-year-old boy that a slave kidnapped, and never a trace of slave or son since.
And my older boy in the hands of enemies! What curse am I under? As if I'd begotten children so as to be left childless! (to Aristophontes) This way, you. (going toward brother's house) Back you go where you were before. I am determined to pity no one, since no one pities me.
Arist.
(wryly) It seemed a good omen, my getting out of irons. Now I perceive I must omen myself back to chains again.
[exeunt.

ACT IV
(It is to be assumed that several hours only have elapsed.)
enter Ergasilus, elated.
Erg.
Great God on high, thou dost preserve me and prosper me with fatness! Boundless abundance, yea, sublime abundance dost thou bring me! Praise, profit, pleasure, jollity, festivity, feasting, trains of victuals, eatables, drinkables, satiety, joy! Never will I toady to human being more, I now resolve it. Why, I can bless my friend or blast my foe, now that this delightful day has loaded me down with its delightful delightfulness! I've landed a legacy stuffed fit to burst, and not a single encumbrance attached!
Now for a race up to old Hegio here. I'm bringing him all the happiness he craves of Heaven, yes, and more, too. I know what I'll do now: like slaves in the comedies, I'll bundle my cloak round my neck and run, so that I'll be the first man he hears this news from; and I hope to get food for ever and ever for my information.

Scene 2.
enter Hegio.
Hegio
(soliloquizing moodily) The more I think it over, the sourer I feel. The idea of their playing upon me in that style to-day! And I couldn't see through it. When it gets known, I shall be the joke of the town.
The moment I appear at the forum they'll all be saying, "Here comes that smart old fellow that got humbugged." (observing Ergasilus) But isn't that Ergasilus I see over there? With his cloak all tucked up, too! Now what in the world is he going to do? (steps aside)
Erg.
(with burlesque importance and bustle) No dawdling now, Ergasilus! At it, my boy, at it! I give you to wit by all the law's pains and penalties that no man stand in my way, unless he thinks he has lived long enough. For the man that does stand in my way shall stand on his head. (squares off and delivers lusty blows at imaginary passers-by)
Hegio
(aside) The fellow is going in for a boxing match!
Erg.
I'll do it, I'm resolved. So everybody keep where they belong, and don't anyone bring his business into this street! I tell you what, my fist is a siege-gun, and this forearm is my catapult, and my shoulder is a battering ram, yes, and every man I lay my knee into will bite the earth. I'll make every man I meet a tooth-collector.
Hegio
(aside) What on earth does all this bluster mean? Quite unaccountable!
Erg.
I'll make him remember this day and this place and me for ever.20
Hegio
(aside) What giant undertaking is the fellow at, with all this big talk?
Erg.
I give you due notice, that no one may come to grief through his own ignorance of the law: stay at home: keep away from me—I am a violent man.
Hegio
(aside) Bless my soul! I'll be sworn he's got some assurance put into his inside. Heaven help the poor wretch whose larder has set him up so!
Erg.
And as for the millers that keep sows, and feed waste stuff to their swine, that raise such a stench nobody can go by the mill,—if I spy a sow of any one of 'em on the public highway, I'll up with my fists and stamp the stuffing out of those sows'—owners.
Hegio
(aside) Right royal and imperious pronunciamentos. The man is gorged: he certainly has got some assurance stowed away inside.
Erg.
Then the fishmongers that travel around on a jogging, jolting gelding, and offer folk stale fish so strong it drives every last lounger in the arcade out into the forum— I'll whack their faces with their own fish baskets, just to teach 'em what an abomination they are to the public nose.
Yes, and the butchers, too, that bereave sheep of their little ones, that engage to sell you lambs fit for slaughter, and then give you lamb as old as two lambs, and pass off a tough old ram as a prime wether—if I spy that ram on a city thoroughfare, I'll make ram and owner the saddest men alive!
Hegio
(aside) Splendid! Why, he is issuing edicts like a Comptroller of the Victualling: I shouldn't be surprised if the Aetolians have made him market inspector.
Erg.
I'm no parasite now, not I! I'm a precious potent potentate of potentates, with all that invoice at the harbour for my belly—food, food! But I must hurry and load old Hegio here with ecstasy. There's not a luckier man alive than he!
Hegio
(aside) What ecstasy is it this ecstatic creature is going to lavish on me?
Erg.
(pounding on Hegio's door) Hi! Where are you? Anybody here? Anybody going to open this door?
Hegio
(aside) The fellow is coming to dine with me.
Erg.
Open this door—both doors—before I knock 'em to flinders and finish 'em for good and all!
Hegio
(aside) I should quite enjoy a word with him. (aloud) Ergasilus!
Erg.
(still pounding) Who calls Ergasilus?
Hegio
Vouchsafe me a look, sir.
Erg.
(without turning his head) Vouchsafe you a look, eh! That is more than Good Luck does for you, or ever will do, either! Who is it, though?
Hegio
Look around this way. It's Hegio.
Erg.
(rushing up) Oh! oh! You best of all the best men that tread the earth, you come just in time!
Hegio
You have hit upon some one or other at the harbour to dine with: that's why you are so haughty.
Erg.
(rapturously) Give me your hand!
Hegio
My hand?
Erg.
Your hand, I say—give me your hand this instant!
Hegio
(doing so) Take it. (Ergasilus shakes it vigorously)
Erg.
Rejoice!
Hegio
Rejoice—I? What for?
Erg.
Because I bid you to. Come now, rejoice!
Hegio
Good Lord, man! grief takes precedence of joy in my case.
Erg.
I will remove every grief spot from off your person for you this minute. Rejoice, rejoice boldly!
Hegio
Well, I am rejoicing, although I haven't the least idea why I should.
Erg.
Much obliged! Order—
Hegio
(suspiciously) Order what?
Erg.
—a fire to be built, an enormous fire.
Hegio
An enormous fire?
Erg.
That's what I say—make it a big one.
Hegio
(angry) How's that? Do you think I'm going to burn my house down for your benefit, you vulture?
Erg.
Calm yourself, sir. Will you order the pots to be set near the oven, or won't you—and the platters washed—and bacon and lovely things to eat to be warmed up in fire-pans piping hot? And some one to go and lay in fish?
Hegio
Day dreams, poor fellow!
Erg.
And some one else to get pork and lamb and spring chicken?
Hegio
You know how to enjoy yourself—given the wherewithal.
Erg.
And ham and river-lamprey and pickled fish, mackerel and sting ray and tunny, and nice soft cheese?
Hegio
You will have more of an opportunity to mention those viands, Ergasilus, than to masticate them here at my house.
Erg.
Do you suppose I'm saying this on my own account?
Hegio
What you get here to-day will be a cross between nothing and next to nothing; make no mistake about that. So bring me a stomach that is ready for your ordinary fare.
Erg.
Why, I'll make you long to squander money, you yourself, even though I should forbid it.
Hegio
Me?
Erg.
Yes, sir, you!
Hegio
Then you are my master, I take it.
Erg.
No, no, your whole-souled friend. Do you want me to make you a fortunate man?
Hegio
Rather than unfortunate, why, yes.
Erg.
Give me your hand.
Hegio
Here it is. (Ergasilus again shakes it fervently)
Erg.
The gods are with you!
Hegio
I wouldn't know it.
Erg.
You wouldn't? Well, you're out of the wood; that's why you don't twig it. But see they get the holy vessels ready for worship—quick! Yes, and have a special lamb brought in, a fat one.
Hegio
Why?
Erg.
So that you may offer sacrifice.
Hegio
To what deity?
Erg.
To me, by gad! For I'm your Jupiter Most High now, myself; and Salvation, Fortune, Light, Gladness, Joy—they're all this identical I! So mind you placate this divinity by stuffing him full.
Hegio
You need food, I fancy.
Erg.
No sir, I need food I fancy, not food you fancy.
Hegio
(smiling) Have it your own way: I'm perfectly willing to—crawl.
Erg.
Crawl? I believe you: it's a habit you—fell into—as a child.
Hegio
(disgusted) Oh, you be damned, sir!
Erg.
And by Jove, you be—grateful to me, as you ought, for my news. The glorious news from the port I'm just reporting! Now your dinner begins to tempt me.
Hegio
Be off, you idiot: you're behind time, you have come too late.
Erg.
Well, if I had come before, then you'd have had more reason to say that. (slowly and portentously) Now, sir, prepare for the ecstasy of which I am the vehicle. A few minutes ago at the harbour your son, your son Philopolemus, alive, safe and sound,—I saw him, saw him in a despatch boat, and along with him that young Elean and your slave Stalagmus that stole your little four year old boy.
Hegio
To the devil with you! You're making fun of me.
Erg.
So help me Holy Stuffing, so may she grace me with her name for evermore—I did see them, Hegio!
Hegio
(sceptically) My son?
Erg.
Your son and my guardian angel.
Hegio
And that Elean prisoner?
Erg.
Oui, par Hercules!
Hegio
And that miserable slave of mine, Stalagmus, that kidnapped my son?
Erg.
Oui, par Hercul-aneum!
Hegio
I'm to believe that?
Erg.
Oui, par Pompeii!
Hegio
He's come?
Erg.
Oui, par Sorrento!
Hegio
You're sure?
Erg.
Oui, par Amalfi!
Hegio
Careful now!
Erg.
Oui, par Torre dell'Annunziata!
Hegio
What are you swearing by foreign cities for!
Erg.
Well, because they're the same as you said your meals were—perfect terrors.
Hegio
Plague take you!
Erg.
My sentiments exactly, seeing you don't believe a word I tell you in sober earnest. Stalagmus, though,—what was his nationality when he disappeared?
Hegio
Sicilian.
Erg.
But he's no Sicilian now: he's a Gaul—he's being galled,G anyhow, by that thing he's attached to: he's coupled with the article so as to get children, I suppose?
Hegio
See here, have you told me all this in good faith?
Erg.
In good faith.
Hegio
Great heavens! I feel like a new man, if what you say is true.
Erg.
Eh? How's that? You'll still doubt me when I'd give you my sacred word on it? Very well then, Hegio, if my solemn oath is insufficient for you, go down to the harbour and see for yourself.
Hegio
(excited) Precisely what I will do. You go inside and attend to what's needed. Take anything you want, ask for it, get it from the store-room. I make you butler.
Erg.
(wild with joy) Now by Jupiter, if I don't do some handsome catering, comb me down with a club!
Hegio
I'll dinner you till doomsday, if it's true.
Erg.
And who's to pay?
Hegio
I and my son.
Erg.
I have your word on that?
Hegio
My word.
Erg.
And for my part, my word to you is—your son has arrived.
Hegio
(making off toward harbour) Attend to everything the very best you can.

Scene 3.
Erg.
A pleasant walk and—backwalk—to you.
[exit Hegio.] He's gone! And the whole blessed commissariat left to me! Ye immortal gods! how I'll knock necks off backs now! Ah, ham's case is hopeless, and bacon's in a bad, bad way! And sow's udder—done for utterly! Oh, how pork rind will go to pot! Butchers and pig-dealers—won't I bustle 'em!
Why, if I should mention all the other things that go to bolster up a belly, it would be a waste of time. I must off this minute to perform my official duties and pass judgment on bacon and help out hams that are still untried and in suspense.
[exit into house hurriedly: uproar within.

Scene 4.
enter Page, angry and excited, from Hegio's house.
Page
(shaking his fist at door) May all the powers of heaven destroy you, Ergasilus, and that belly of yours and all parasites and anyone that gives a parasite a meal hereafter! Disaster, devastation, a tornado, has just fallen on our house. I was afraid he'd jump at my throat like a ravening wolf!
As soon as I saw that ravenous look of his I almost died for fear he'd make a rush at me—Lord, how he did scare me, how he kept grinding his teeth! In he came and tugged down the meat, rack and all—grabbed a knife and lopped the choice bits off three necks of pork—and smashed every pot and tureen that didn't hold a peck or more!
Kept asking the cook if he couldn't possibly use the big pickle vats to boil things in! Broke into all the cupboards and raided the pantry! (shouting to those within) Hi, boys! watch him, will you! I'm going to find the old man. I'll tell him, so that he can get in more victuals for himself, that is if he wants any for his own use: for to judge from the way this fellow is getting 'em out here, there's nothing left now, or won't be long.
[exit.

ACT V
(Half an hour has elapsed.)
enter Hegio, Philopolemus, Philocrates, and Stalagmus.
Hegio
(to Philopolemus) I thank God with all my heart, as I ought, for bringing you back to your father, and for relieving me of the dreadful anguish I've been enduring as day after day went by, and I still here without you; yes, and for letting me see this rascal (indicating Stalagmus) in my power, and for this gentleman's (indicating Philocrates) proving himself a man of honour in standing by his promise to us.
Philop.
(seeing Philocrates is getting impatient) I've had quite enough bitter suffering, and enough of wearing myself out with anxiety and weeping, too, and I've heard quite enough of your distress of which you told me at the harbour, father! So now to the main point. (turns to Philocrates)
Philocr.
(to Hegio) What of me, sir, now that I have kept faith with you and secured the liberty of your son here?
Hegio
After the way you have acted, Philocrates, I'm entirely unable to show gratitude enough for your treatment of me and my son.
Philop.
No, no, you are able, father, yes, and always will be able, and so shall I be, and Heaven will give you the ability to do a deserved kindness to a man that has been so kind to us. It's just as with this slave here, (pointing to Stalagmus) father dear; you're able to give him his full deserts.
Hegio
(to Philocrates) It's plain enough, sir,—I have no tongue with which to refuse a request of yours.
Philocr.
What I ask you to do is to give me back the slave I left here as security for myself—he was always ready to sacrifice himself for me!—so that I can reward him for his kindnesses.
Hegio
You have been kind to us, sir, and I shall be glad to do as you ask; both that request, and any other, will be granted. (embarrassed) And—and I trust you won't be incensed at me for getting angry and treating him badly.
Philocr.
(anxiously) What did you do?
Hegio
I had him fettered and put down in the stone quarries when I found out I had been imposed upon.
Philocr.
God forgive me! To think of the splendid fellow suffering so, and all for my sake!
Hegio
Well, sir, this being so, you needn't give me a single farthing for him: take him from me gratis—he is a free man.
Philocr.
Well, well, Hegio, many thanks! But have him sent for, I beg you.
Hegio
By all means (calling to slaves in house) Where are you? [enter overseers.] Quick! go bring Tyndarus here. [exeunt overseers] (to Philopolemus and Philocrates) As for you lads, step inside. Meanwhile I want to inquire of this whipping post here (pointing to Stalagmus) what was done with my younger son. You can take a bath meanwhile.
Philop.
Come along in with me, Philocrates.
Philocr.
Certainly.
[exeunt.

Scene 2.
Hegio
(to Stalagmus) Come now, you! Over there with you, (pointing) my good sir, my charming piece of property.
Stal.
(sullenly) What can you look for from me, when a fine gentleman like you tells lies? I've had my day as a dandy, a charmer; a good sir, or good for anything, I never was, and I never will be, make no mistake, don't you build up hopes I will be good for anything.
Hegio
You have no difficulty in appreciating your position pretty fairly well. Now be truthful, and you'll be acting to your own advantage and make a bad prospect somewhat better. Out with your story, make it straightforward and honest—virtues you have never displayed hitherto, however.
Stal.
When I'm ready to admit a thing myself d'ye think I should be ashamed of it just because you say it's so?
Hegio
I'll make you ashamed, though: (savagely) I tell you what, I'll make one big blush of you.
Stal.
(ironically) La! La! I'm promised a whipping, it seems, and I such a novice at it—oh, yes I am! Look here, get done with that talk and say what you've got to propose, so as to get what you're after.
Hegio
Quite a gift of tongue, sir! But oblige me by saving some of it for the moment.
Stal.
Anything you like.
Hegio
(half aside) That compliance he showed as a boy hardly becomes him at present. (aloud) To business! Now then, pay attention and answer me fully.
Stal.
Rot! Don't you suppose I know what I deserve?
Hegio
Well, you have a chance to escape a little of it, if not all.
Stal.
Little enough I'll escape, I know that; for there'll be plenty coming, and it serves me right, seeing I ran away and kidnapped your son and sold him.
Hegio
To whom?
Stal.
(drawling) Theodoromedes Goldfields, in Elis, for twenty-four pounds.
Hegio
God bless my soul! Why, he is the father of Philocrates here!
Stal.
Well, I know him better than you, and I've seen him oftener.
Hegio
God Almighty, save me and save my boy for me! (running to door and shouting) Philocrates! Here, here, come, on your life! I want you!

Scene 3.
[enter Philocrates.
Philocr.
Here I am, Hegio. If I can be of any service, command me.
Hegio
(beside himself) This fellow says my son—he sold him to your father—for twenty-four pounds—in Elis!
Philocr.
How long ago was this?
Stal.
Going on for twenty years.
Philocr.
He's lying.
Stal.
(indifferent) One of us is. As a matter of fact, your father gave you a little four year old boy for your own, when you were nothing but a youngster yourself.
Philocr.
(interested) What was his name? If your story is true, come, tell me that.
Stal.
Styled Pettie, he was: later on you folks called him Tyndarus.
Philocr.
How is it I don't know you?
Stal.
Because it's the regular thing to forget a fellow and cut him, in case his good will can't help you at all.
Philocr.
Tell me, was that boy you sold my father the same one that was given me for my own?
Stal.
(with a nod in Hegio's direction) His son.
Hegio
(eagerly) Is he alive, this—man?
Stal.
I got the money: that's all I bothered about.
Hegio
(to Philocrates) What do you say?
Philocr.
Why, it's Tyndarus himself that is your son, at least according to this fellow's evidence. For Tyndarus has been brought up with me from the time we were boys, and brought up in good honest fashion.
Hegio
I feel miserable and happy both, if what you two say is true! Miserable at having been so hard on him, if he is my own boy! Dear, dear! how much more I've done than I ought, or how much less! It's torment, to think of the horrible thing I've done—oh, if it could only be undone! (looking down street) Look, though,—there he comes! To be decked out like that, the noble fellow!

Scene 4.
enter Tyndarus escorted by overseers. he is heavily ironed and carries a crowbar.
Tynd.
(dryly) I have seen a good many pictures whose subject was torture in Hell: but upon my soul, there is no hell that can match those stone quarries where I've been. That place down there is certainly the one where a weary man can be dead sure of working off his tired feeling.
Why, when I got there it was just like your young scions of the nobility being given daws or ducks or quails for playfellows: my own case exactly—the moment I arrived they gave me this crow to have a lark with. (looking toward Hegio's house) But there's my master in front of the door—and, yes, my other master back from Elis!
Hegio
Oh, how are you, my own longed-for son?
Tynd.
Eh? "My son?" How's that? (pauses, then with a weary laugh) Ah, yes, yes, I see the point of your father and son chaff: just as parents do, you give me a chance to behold the light of day.
Philocr.
God bless you, Tyndarus!
Tynd.
And you, sir, for whose sake I'm undergoing this confounded experience.
Philocr.
But now you shall be a free man, Tyndarus, and a rich one, I promise you. For here is (indicating Hegio) your father; this slave (indicating Stalagmus) stole you away from him here when you were four years old and sold you to my father for twenty-four pounds. And when we were both small boys, father gave you to me for my own. That fellow there has proved it all; you see we brought him back here from Elis.
Tynd.
(dazed) What about his son?
Philocr.
Look—inside there—your own brother!28
Tynd.
Great heavens! When I think back I do now at last remember hearing—in a cloudy sort of way—my father called Hegio!
Hegio
(embracing him) I am that Hegio!
Philocr.
(to Hegio, pointing to the shackles on Tyndarus). Those irons, sir,—for mercy's sake get yourself a lighter son, and him a heavier slave. (indicating Stalagmus)
Hegio
Yes, yes, I must see to that first of all. Let's go inside and have a blacksmith sent for, so that I may get those irons off of you and make this fellow (turning to Stalagmus) a present of them.
Stal.
Thanks awfully—seeing I haven't a thing I can call my own.
[exeunt omnes.

EPILOGUE
SPOKEN BY THE COMPANY.
Spectators, this play was composed with due regard to the proprieties: here you have no vicious intrigues, no love affair, no supposititious child, no getting money on false pretences, no young spark setting a wench free without his father's knowledge.
Dramatists find few plays such as this which make good men better. Now, if you so please, and if we have pleased you and have not been boring, intimate as much: you who wish virtue to be rewarded, give us your applause.