by
Terence

Translated by Henry Thomas Riley, B.A.

Persons Represented

PROLOGUE.
LACHES.
PHIDIPPUS.
PAMPHILUS.
PARMENO.
SOSIA.
BOY, and other Servants .

SOSTRATA.
MYRRHINA.
BACCHIS.
PHILOTIS.
SYRA.
NURSE, Servants to Bacchis, etc.

Scene, Athens.

Prologue

This play is call’d the Step-Mother. When first
It was presented, such a hurricane,
A tumult so uncommon interven’d,
It neither could be seen nor understood:
So taken were the people, so engag’d
By a rope-dancer! — It is now brought on
As a new piece: and he who wrote the play
Suffer’d it not to be repeated then,
That he might profit by a second sale.
Others, his plays, you have already known;
Now then, let me beseech you, know this too.

Another Prologue

I come a pleader, in the shape of prologue:
Let me then gain my cause, and now grown old.
Experience the same favor as when young;
Who then recover’d many a lost play,
Breath’d a new life into the scenes, and sav’d
The author and his writings from oblivion.
Of those which first I studied of Cæcilius,
In some I was excluded; and in some
Hardly maintain’d my ground. But knowing well
The variable fortunes of the scene,
I was content to hazard certain toil
For an uncertain gain. I undertook
To rescue those same plays from condemnation,
And labor’d to reverse your sentence on them;
That the same Poet might afford me more,
And no ill fortune damp young Genius in him.
My cares prevail’d; the plays were heard; and thus
Did I restore an Author, nearly lost
Through the malevolence of adversaries,
To study, labor, and the Poet’s art.
But had I at that time despis’d his plays,
Or labor’d to deter him from the task,
It had been easy to have kept him idle,
And to have scar’d him from attempting more:
For my sake, therefore, deign to hear with candor
The suit I mean to offer to you now.

Once more I bring the Step-Mother before you,
Which yet in silence I might never play;
So did confusion crush it: which confusion
Your prudence may allay, if it will deign
To second our endeavors. — When I first
Began to play this piece, the sturdy Boxers,
(The dancers on the rope expected too,)
Th’ increasing crowds, the noise and women’s clamor,
Oblig’d me to retire before my time.
I, upon this occasion, had recourse
To my old way. I brought it on again.
In the first act I please: meanwhile there spreads
A rumor of the Gladiators: then
The people flock together, riot, roar,
And fight for places. I meanwhile my  place
Could not maintain — To-day there’s no disturbance;
All’s silence and attention; a clear stage:
’Tis yours to give these games their proper grace.
Let not, oh let not the Dramatic Art
Fall to a few! let your authority
Assist and second mine! if I for gain
Ne’er overrated my abilities,
If I have made it still my only care
To be obedient to your will, oh grant
That he who hath committed his performance
To my defense, and who hath thrown himself
On your protection, be not giv’n to scorn,
And foul derision of his envious foes!

Admit this plea for my sake, and be silent;
That other Poets may not fear to write,
That I too may hereafter find it meet
To play new pieces bought at my expense.

Act the First

Scene I

PHILOTIS, SYRA.

PHI. Now, by my troth, a woman of the town
Scarce ever finds a faithful lover, Syra.
This very Pamphilus, how many times
He swore to Bacchis, swore so solemnly
One could not but believe him, that he never
Would, in her lifetime, marry. See! he’s married.

SYRA. I warn you, therefore, and most earnestly
Conjure you, to have pity upon none.
But plunder, fleece, and beggar ev’ry man
That falls into your pow’r.

PHI. What! spare none?

SYRA. None.
For know, there is not one of all your sparks
But studies to cajole you with fine speeches,
And have his will as cheaply as he can.
Should not you, then, endeavor to fool them?

PHI. But to treat all alike is wrong.

SYRA. What! wrong?
To be reveng’d upon your enemies?
Or to snare those who spread their snares for you? —
Alas! why have not I your youth and beauty,
Or you my sentiments?

Scene II

Enter PARMENO.

PAR. (to SCRITUS within). If our old gentleman
Asks for me, tell him I’m this very moment
Gone to the Port to seek for Pamphilus.
D’ye understand my meaning, Scritus? If he asks,
Tell him that; if he should not ask, say nothing;
That this excuse may serve another time. (Comes forward.)
— But is not that Philotis? Whence comes she?
Philotis, save you!

PHI. Save you, Parmeno!

SYRA. Save you, good Parmeno!

PAR. And save you, Syra!
— Tell me, Philotis, where have you been gadding?
Taking your pleasure this long time?

PHI. I’ve taken
No pleasure, Parmeno, indeed. I went
With a most brutal Captain hence to Corinth,
There have I led a wretched life with him
For two whole years.

PAR. Aye, aye, I warrant you
That you have often wish’d to be in Athens;
Often repented of your journey.

PHI. Oh,
’Tis quite impossible to tell how much
I long’d to be at home, how much I long’d
To leave the Captain, see you, revel with you,
After the good old fashion, free and easy.
For there I durst not speak a single word,
But what, and when the mighty Captain pleas’d.

PAR. ’Twas cruel in him thus to tie your tongue:
At least, I’ll warrant, that you thought it so.

PHI. But what’s this business, Parmeno? this story
That Bacchis has been telling me within?
I could not have believ’d that Pamphilus
Would in her lifetime marry.

PAR. Marry truly!

PHI. Why he is married: is not he?

PAR. He is.
But I’m afraid ’twill prove a crazy match,
And will not hold together long.

PHI. Heav’n grant it.
So it turn out to Bacchis’s advantage!
But how can I believe this, Parmeno?
Tell me.

PAR. It is not fit it should be told.
Inquire no more.

PHI. For fear I should divulge it?
Now Heav’n so prosper me, as I inquire,
Not for the sake of telling it again,
But to rejoice within myself.

PAR. All these
Fair words, Philotis, sha’n’t prevail on me
To trust my back to your discretion.

PHI. Well;
Don’t tell me, Parmeno. — As if you had not
Much rather tell this secret than I hear it.

PAR. She’s in the right: I am a blab, ’tis true,
It is my greatest failing. — Give your word
You’ll not reveal it, and I’ll tell you.

PHI. Now
You’re like yourself again. I give my word.
Speak.

PAR. Listen then.

PHI. I’m all ear.

PAR. Pamphilus
Doted on Bacchis still as much as ever,
When the old gentleman began to tease him
To marry, in the common cant of fathers;
— “That he was now grown old; and Pamphilus
His only child; and that he long’d for heirs,
As props of his old age.” At first my master
Withstood his instances, but as his father
Became more hot and urgent, Pamphilus
Began to waver in his mind, and felt
A conflict betwixt love and duty in him.
At length, by hammering on marriage still,
And daily instances, th’ old man prevail’d,
And made a match with our next neighbor’s daughter.
Pamphilus did not take it much to heart,
Till just upon the very brink of wedlock:
But when he saw the nuptial rites prepar’d,
And, without respite, he must many; then
It came so home to him, that even Bacchis,
Had she been present, must have pitied him.
Whenever he could steal from company,
And talk to me alone, — “Oh Parmeno,
What have I done?” he’d cry. — “I’m lost forever.
Into what ruin have I plung’d myself!
I can not bear it, Parmeno. Ah wretch!
I am undone.”

PHI. Now all the powers of heav’n
Confound you, Laches, for thus teasing him?

PAR. In short, he marries, and brings home his wife.
The first night he ne’er touch’d her! nor the next.

PHI. How! he a youth, and she a maidenhead!
Tipsy, and never touch her! ’Tis not likely;
Nor do I think it can be true.

PAR. No wonder.
For they that come to you come all desire:
But he was bound to her against his will.

PHI. What followed upon this?

PAR. A few days after,
Pamphilus, taking me aside, informs me,
“That the maid still remain’d a maid for him;
That he had hop’d, before he brought her home,
He might have borne the marriage: — but resolving
Within myself not to retain her long,
I held it neither honesty in me,
Nor of advantage to the maid herself,
That I should throw her off to scorn: — but rather
Return her to her friends, as I receiv’d her,
Chaste and inviolate.”

PHI. A worthy youth,
And of great modesty!

PAR. “To make this public
Would not, I think, do well: and to return her
Upon her father’s hands, no crime alleg’d,
As arrogant: but she, I hope, as soon
As she perceives she can not live with me,
Will of her own accord depart.”

PHI. But tell me;
Went he meanwhile to Bacchis?

PAR. Every day.
But she, as is the way you know, perceiving
He was another’s property, became
More cross and mercenary.

PHI. Troth, no wonder.

PAR. Aye, but ’twas that detach’d him chiefly from her.
For when he had examined well himself,
Bacchis, and her at home; and had compar’d
Their different manners; seeing that his bride,
After the fashion of a lib’ral mind,
Was decent, modest, patient of affronts,
And anxious to conceal the wrongs he did her;
Touch’d partly with compassion for his wife,
And partly tir’d with t’other’s insolence,
He by degrees withdrew his heart from Bacchis,
Transferring it to her, whose disposition
Was so congenial to his own. Meanwhile
An old relation of the family
Dies in the isle of Imbrus. His estate
Comes by the law to them; and our old man
Dispatching thither, much against his will,
The now-fond Pamphilus, he leaves his wife
Here with his mother. The old gentleman
Retir’d into the country, and but seldom
Comes up to town.