<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
            <request>
                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi0119.phi006.perseus-eng2:1-163</requestUrn>
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            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi0119.phi006.perseus-eng2:1-163</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text xml:lang="en"><body><div xml:lang="eng" type="translation" n="urn:cts:latinLit:phi0119.phi006.perseus-eng2"><div type="textpart" n="1" subtype="card"><sp><speaker>THE PROLOGUE<milestone n="2" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>The Prologue</q>:  This Prologue appears to have been written many years after the death of the author, and indeed bears internal marks of having been composed at a period nearer to the Augustan age than the time of Plautus. Judging, however, from the fourteenth line, there were, at the time when it was written, some persons still surviving who had been present at the original representation of the Play.</note>
                  </speaker><p>I bid you, most worthy Spectators, welcome; who most highly esteem the Goddess Faith<note anchored="true"><q>Faith</q>:  She was worshipped under the name of Fides. Further reference is made to her in the Aulularia, where her Temple is represented.</note>, and Faith esteems you. If I have said the truth, then give me loud applause, that even now, from the very beginning forward, I may know that you are favourably disposed towards me. Those who make use of aged wine, I deem to be wise; and those as well, who, through choice, are the spectators of ancient Plays. Since antique works and words are pleasing to you, 'tis just that ancient Plays should in preference please you; for the new Comedies which come out now-a-days are much more worthless than the new-coined money<milestone n="10" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>The new-coined money</q>:  He seems to refer to the circulation of some coin of a base or alloyed character, probably much to the annoyance of the public.</note>. We, since we have heard the report in public, that you ardently wish for the Plays of Plautus, have brought forward this ancient Comedy of his, which you, who are among the older ones, have formerly approved. But I am aware that those who are among the younger ones are not acquainted with it; still, that they may make acquaintance with it, we will carefully use our best endeavours. When this was first represented, it surpassed all other Plays. In those days there was the very £elite of the poets, who have now departed hence to the place common to all. But though departed, yet do they prove of advantage to those who are still existing. All of you, with the greatest earnestness, I would have entreated that you'll kindly lend attention to this our company. Dismiss from your thoughts cares and monies due; let no man stand in dread of his duns. 'Tis a holiday this—to the bankers a holiday has been given. 'Tis now a calm; about the Forum these are Halcyon days<milestone n="26" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Halcyon days</q>:  "Alcedonia," "days of calm." This figure is derived from the circumstance that by the ancients the sea was supposed to be always calm when the female kingfisher (alcedo)  was sitting; and the saying became proverbial. Ovid, in the Metamorphoses, B. 11, speaking of Ceyx and Halcyon, who were changed into kingfishers, says, 1. 744 et seq., "Nor, when now birds, is the conjugal tie dissolved; they couple and they become parents; and for seven calm days, in the winter-time, does Halcyone brood upon her nest, floating on the sea. Then the passage of the deep is safe; Æolus keeps the winds in, and restrains them from sallying forth, and secures a smooth sea for his descendants."</note>. Reasonably do they act: during the games<milestone n="27" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>During the games</q>:  The public games, or shows, at <placeName key="perseus,Rome">Rome</placeName>, were represented on days that were "nefasti," when no law-suits were carried on, and no person was allowed to be arrested for debt.</note> they ask no man for money; but during the games to no one do they pay. If your ears are disengaged, give me your attention; I wish to mention to you the name of the Play. "Clerumenæ<milestone n="31" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Clerumenæ</q>:  The Greek word <foreign xml:lang="grc">κληρούμενοι,</foreign> the "lot-drawers." This passage is considered by some Commentators to prove that the Greek <foreign xml:lang="grc">οι</foreign> was pronounced like the Latin "æ."</note>" this Comedy is called in Greek; in Latin, "Sortientes." Diphilus wrote it in Greek, and after that, over again, Plautus with the barking name<milestone n="34" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>With the barking name</q>:  It is not fully ascertained whether the "barking name" alludes to that of Plautus or of <placeName key="tgn,1043953">Casina</placeName>; the former is, most probably, the case. Indeed, Festus tells us that "plautus" actually was the name of a species of dog with long, loose ears, which hung down. Some Commentators reject this explanation, and think that the "au" in "Plautus" suggested the notion, from its resemblance to the baying of a dog. This is, however, very problematical.</note> in Latin afresh. <stage>Pointing to the house of <placeName key="tgn,7012076">STALINO</placeName>.</stage> An old married man is living here; he has a son; he, with his father, is dwelling in this house. He has a certain slave, who with disease is confined—aye, faith, to his bed, he really is, that I may tell no lie. But sixteen years ago, it happened that on a time this servant, at early dawn, beheld a female child being exposed. He went at once to the woman who was exposing it, and begged her to give it to himself. He gained his request: he took it away, and carried it straight home. He gave it to his mistress, and entreated her to take care of it, and bring it up. His mistress did so; with great care she brought it up, as though it had been her own daughter, not much different. Since then she has grown up to that age to be able to prove an attraction to the men; but this old gentleman loves this girl distractedly, and, on the other hand, so does his son as well. Each of them now, on either side, is preparing his legions, both father and son, each unknown to the other. The father has deputed his bailiff to ask her as his wife; he hopes that, if she's given to him, an attraction out of doors will be, unknown to his wife, provided for him. But the son has deputed his armour-bearer to ask her for himself as a wife. He knows that if he gains that request, there will be an object for him to love, within his abode. The wife of the old gentleman has found out that he is gratifying his amorousness; for that reason, she is making common cause together with her son. But this father, when he found out that his son was in love with this same woman, and was a hindrance to him, sent the young man hence upon business abroad. His mother, understanding this, still lends him, though absent, her assistance. Don't you expect it; he will not, in this Play, to-day, return to the city. Plautus did not choose it: he broke down the bridge that lay before him in the way. There are some here, who, I fancy, are now saying among themselves, "Prithee, what means this, i' faith?—the marriage of a slave<milestone n="68" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Marriage of a slave</q>:  The ingenious <placeName key="tgn,1010231">Rost</placeName> suggests this explanation of the passage: The slaves at <placeName key="perseus,Rome">Rome</placeName> were not allowed to contract marriages petween themselves, or what was in legal terms called "matrimonium." They were, however, permitted to live together in "contubernium," or what was in common parlance called "quasi matrimonium." This he supposes to have in time come to be styled, in common parlance, "matrimonium" by the lower classes, and consequently to have given great offence to some martinets, who insisted on giving, on all occasions, the strict legal term to the unions of slaves. He therefore excuses this shock to their feelings, by pleading the example of the Greeks, Carthaginians, and Apulians.</note> Are slaves to be marrying wives, or asking them for themselves? They've introduced something new—a thing that's done nowhere in the world." But I affirm that this is done in <placeName key="tgn,1000074">Greece</placeName>
                     <milestone n="71" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Done in <placeName key="tgn,1000074">Greece</placeName>
                        </q>:  <placeName key="tgn,1010231">Rost</placeName> remarks, that in reality, "matrimonium," or "marriage," in the strict legal sense, was no more permitted by the Greeks to their slaves than it was by the Romans. He is of opinion, however. that Plautus here refers to the superior humanity and kindliness of the Greeks, who did not object to call the union of slaves by the name of marriage, in common parlance, although those unfortunate persons were denied all the immunities of married people. As to the usage among the Carthaginians and Apulians, with relation to the intermarriages of slaves, no account has come down to us.</note>, and at <placeName key="perseus,Carthage">Carthage</placeName>, and here in our own country, and in the Apulian country; and that the marriages of slaves are wont to be solemnized there with more fuss than even those of free persons. If this is not the fact, if any one pleases, let him bet with me a stake towards a jug of honied wine<milestone n="75" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Jug of honied wine</q>:  As he only ventures to wager a jug of "mulsum" on his correctness, it is not improbable that the speaker of the Prologue is not very careful in what he asserts as to the customs of other nations.</note>, so long as a Carthaginian is the umpire in my cause, or a Greek in fact, or an Apulian. <stage>A pause.</stage> What now? You don't take it? No one's thirsty, I find. I'll return to that foundling girl, whom the two slaves are, with all their might, contending for as a wife. She'll be found to be both chaste and free, of freeborn parents, an Athenian girl, and assuredly of no immodesty at all will she be guilty<milestone n="83" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Will she be guilty</q>:  Warner thinks that these words imply that in the Greek Comedy, from which the present one was taken, <placeName key="tgn,1043953">Casina</placeName> was introduced on the stage, and represented as acting immodestly.</note> in this Comedy at least. But i' faith, for sure, directly afterwards, when the Play is over, if any one offers the money, as I guess, she'll readily enter into matrimony with him, and not wait for good omens. Thus much I have to say. Farewell; be prosperous in your affairs, and conquer by true valour, as hitherto you've done<milestone n="88" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Hitherto you've done</q>:  The conclusion of this Play is similar to that of the Cistellaria.</note>.</p></sp></div><milestone unit="act" n="1"/><milestone unit="scene" n="1"/><div type="textpart" n="89" subtype="card"><stage>Enter OLYMPIO, CHALINUS following him.<note anchored="true">This Play is named after <placeName key="tgn,1043953">Casina</placeName>, the female slave; and it is rather singular that neither she nor Euthynicus, two of the parties most interested, appear as characters in it.</note>
               </stage><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> Isn't it to be allowed me for myself to speak and think about my own affairs by myself, just as I choose, without you as an overlooker? Why the plague are you following me about?</p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> Because I'm resolved, just like your shadow, wherever you go, to follow you about. Why troth, even if you are ready to go to the cross, I'm determined to follow you. Hence judge of the sequel, whether you can or not, by your artifices, slily deprive me of <placeName key="tgn,1043953">Casina</placeName> for a wife, just as you are attempting.</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> What business have you with me? </p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> What say you, impudence? Why are you creeping about in the city, you bailiff<milestone n="98" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>You bailiff</q>:  The "villicus" was an upper slave, who had the management of the country farm, and all the business on it, except that relative to the cattle. His duty was to watch over the other slaves; never to leave the farm but for the purpose of going to market; to take care of the implements of husbandry, keep an account of the stock, distribute food and clothing to the labourers, perform the sacrifices, buy what was necessary for the household, and sell the produce of the farm. Cato says that it was especially a part of his duty to avoid Soothsayers. Of course he would be of more use in the country than in town.</note>, so very valuable in this place?</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> Because I choose. </p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> But why ain't you in the country, at your post of command? Why don't you rather pay attention to the business that has been entrusted to you, and keep yourself from meddling in city matters? Have you come hither to deprive me of my betrothed? Be off to the country—be off to your place of command, and be hanged to you.</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> Chalinus, I have not forgotten my duty. I've given charge to one who will still take care that all's right in the country. When I've got that for which I came hither to the city, to take her as my wife whom you are dying for—the fair and charming <placeName key="tgn,1043953">Casina</placeName>, your fellow-servant—when I've carried her off with myself into the country as my wife, I'll then stick fast in the country, at my post of command.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> What, you marry her? By my faith, 'twere better I should die by a halter, than that you should be the winner of her.</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> She's my prize; do you put yourself in a halter at once. </p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> Fellow, dug up from your own dunghill, is she to be your prize?</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> You'll find that such is the fact. Woe be unto you! in what a many ways, if I only live, I'll have you tormented at my wedding!</p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> What will you do to me?</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> What will I do to you? In the first place of all, you shall hold the lighted torch for this new-made bride of nine; that always, in future, you may be worthless<milestone n="118" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>May be worthless</q>:  It has been suggested by Muretus that this refers to some superstition among the ancients, that those who had carried a torch before the bride at a wedding were doomed to be unlucky in future life; perhaps, however, there is no ground for this supposition, beyond the present passage; as it is not likely that they would have found any free persons to undertake the duty of torchbearer, if they were to be afterwards considered as of such ominous character.</note>, and not esteemed. Then next after that, when you get to the country-house, a single pitcher<milestone n="121" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>A single pitcher</q>:  To be "drawers of water," as well as "hewers of wood," was the lot of the unfortunate slave, from the earliest ages of the world.</note> shall be found you, and a single path, a single spring, a single brass cauldron, and eight casks; and unless these shall be always kept filled, I'll load you with lashes. I'll make you so thoroughly bent with carrying water, that a horse's crupper might be manufactured out of you. And then, in future, unless in the country you either feed on pulse, or, like a worm, upon the soil, should you require to taste of any better food, never, upon my faith, is hunger as full of hungriness as I'll make you to be in the country. After that, when you're tired out, and starved with famine, care shall be taken that, at night, you go to bed as you deserve.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> What will you do?</p></sp><sp><speaker>OLYMPIO</speaker><p> You shall be shut up fast in a nook with bars, where you can listen while I'm caressing her, while she is saying to me, "My soul, my own Olympio, my life, my sweet, my delight, do let me kiss your dear eyes, my love! do, there's a dear, let yourself be loved! my own day of happiness, my sparrow-chick, my own dove, my leveret!" When these expressions shall be being uttered to me, then will you, you villain, be wriggling about like a mouse in the middle of the wall. Now, that you mayn't be trying to give me an answer, I'll off in-doors; I'm tired of your talk. <stage>Goes into the house of <placeName key="tgn,7012076">STALINO</placeName>.</stage>
                  </p></sp><sp><speaker>CHALINUS</speaker><p> I'll follow you. Here, indeed, on my word, assuredly you shall do nothing without me for an overlooker. <stage>Follows him into the house.</stage>
                  </p></sp></div><milestone unit="act" n="2"/><milestone unit="scene" n="1"/><div type="textpart" n="144" subtype="card"><stage>Enter CLEOSTRATA and PARDALISCA, from the house of <placeName key="tgn,7012076">STALINO</placeName>.</stage><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p><stage>at the door, to the SERVANTS, within</stage>. Seal fast the store-rooms<note anchored="true"><q>Seal fast the store-rooms</q>:  This passage bears reference to the common practice of the ancients, who were in the habit of sealing boxes and cupboards with the impression of their signets, stamped on wax. So in St. Matthew, xxvii, 66: "So they went and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, and setting a watch;" and in Daniel, vi., 17: "A stone was brought, and laid upon the mouth of the den; and the king sealed it with his own signet, and with the signet of his lords."</note>, bring back the signet to me. I'm going here to my next door neighbour; if my husband wants me for anything, take care and send for me thence.</p></sp><sp><speaker>PARDALISCA</speaker><p> The old gentleman ordered a breakfast to be got ready for him to-day.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Tut! Hold your tongue, and be off. <stage>PARDALISCA goes into the house.</stage> I don't prepare it, and it shan't be cooked; since he sets himself against myself and his son, for the sake of his passion and his appetite. A disgraceful fellow that! I'll punish this lover with hunger, I'll punish him with thirst, with abuse, with hardships. By my faith, I'll thoroughly worry him with disagreable speeches; I'll make him to pass a life in future just as he deserves—fit food for Acheron, a hunter after iniquity, a stable of infamy! Now I'll away hence to my neighbours, to lament my lot. But the door makes a noise; and see, she's coming out of doors herself. On my word, I've not started for my call at a convenient time.
</p></sp></div><milestone unit="scene" n="2"/><div type="textpart" n="163" subtype="card"><stage>Enter MYRRHINA, from the house of ALCESIMUS.</stage><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p><stage>to her SERVANTS, at the door</stage>. Follow me, my attendants<note anchored="true"><q>My attendants</q>:  It was considered unbecoming for women of rank and character to appear abroad without their attendants.</note>, here next door. You there! Does any one hear this that I say? I shall be here, if my husband or any person shall seek me. Did I order my distaff to be taken there? For when I'm at home alone, drowsiness takes effect upon<milestone n="167" unit="line"/><note anchored="true"><q>Takes effect upon</q>:  <foreign xml:lang="lat">Calvitur</foreign> Literally, "baulks" or impedes.</note> my hand.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Myrrhina, good morrow. </p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Good morrow, my dear Cleostrata. But, prithee, why are you sad?</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> So all are wont to be who are unfortunately married; at home and abroad, there's always enough to make them sad. But I was going to your house.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> And, troth, I was coming here to yours. But what is it that now distresses your mind? For the thing that distresses you, that same is a trouble to me.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> On my word, I do believe you. For with good reason no female neighbour of mine do I love better than yourself, nor any one with whom I have more ties of intimacy, to afford me pleasure.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> I thank you kindly, and I long to know what this is.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> My husband has put slights upon me in a most unworthy manner.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Hah! What is it? Prithee, repeat that same again; for, on my word, I don't in my mind sufficiently comprehend your complaints.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> My husband has put slights upon me in a most unworthy manner, and I have not the advantage of enjoying my own rights.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> 'Tis surprising, if you say the truth; for husbands can scarce obtain from their wives what's their own right.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Why, against my will, he demands a female servant of me, who belongs to myself, and was brought up at my own expense, for him to give to his bailiff. But he is in love with her himself.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Pray, do hold your tongue. </p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p><stage>looking round</stage>. But here we may speak at present; we are alone—
</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> It is so. But whence did you get her? For a good wife ought to have no property unknown to her husband; and she who has got any, it is not to her credit, for she must either have purloined it from her husband, or obtained it by unfaithfulness. Whatever is your own, all that I take to be your husband's.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Surely, you're saying all this out of opposition to your friend.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Do hold your tongue, will you, simpleton, and attend to me. Do you forbear to oppose him, will you. Let him love on; that which he chooses let him do, so long as nothing's denied you at home.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Are you quite in your senses? For really, you are saying these things against your own interest.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Silly creature, do you always take care and be on guard against this expression from your husband—</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> What expression?</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> "Woman! out of doors with you!"<milestone n="211" unit="line"/>
                     <note anchored="true"><q>Woman! out of doors with you</q>:  "I foras, mulier." This was the echnica! form used on occasions of divorce or separation.</note>
                  </p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p><stage>in a low voice</stage>. 'St! be quiet.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> What's the matter?</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Hush! <stage>Looks in a particular direction.</stage>
                  </p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Who is it that you see?</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> Why look, my husband's coming; go you in-doors. Make all haste; be off, there's a dear.</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> You easily prevail; I'm off.</p></sp><sp><speaker>CLEOSTRATA</speaker><p> At a future time, when you and I shall have more leisure, then I'll talk to you. For the present, adieu!</p></sp><sp><speaker>MYRRHINA</speaker><p> Adieu! <stage>Goes into her house. CLEOSTRATA stands aside.</stage>
                  </p></sp></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
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