Enter Pacue, Finio.
Fin. Come on, my sweet finical Pacue, the very prime
Of pages, here's an excellent place for us to practise in;
Nobody sees us here; come, let's to it.
Pac. Contenta; reguarde vou le premier.
Oni. Sirrah, Finio.
Pac. Mort dieu le pesant.
Oni. Didst thou see Valentine?
Fin. Valentine! no.
Fin. No. Sirrah, Onion, whither goest?
Oni. O I am vext; he that would trust any of those lying travellers.
Fin. I prithee stay, good Onion.
Pac. Monsieur Onion, vene ca, come hidera, je vou pre. By gar, me ha see two, tree, four hundra tousand of your cousan hang. Lend me your hand, shall pray for know you bettra.
Oni. I thank you, good signior Parla vou. O that I were in another world, in the Ingies, or somewhere, that I might have room to laugh.
Pac. A we fort boon; stand, you be under the arm. deere now, me come, Bon jour, monsieur.
Fin. Good morrow, good signior.
Pac. By gar, me be mush glad for see you.
Fin. I return you most kind thanks, sir.
Oni. How, how! 'sblood this is rare.
Pac. Nay, shall make you say rare, by and by; reguard Monsieur Finio,
Fin. Signior Pacue.
Pac. Dieu vou gard, monsieur.
Fin. God save you, sweet signior.
Pac. Monsieur Onion, is not fort boon.
Oni. Beane, quoth he! would I were in debt of a pottle of beans, I could do as much.
Fin. Welcome, signior; what's next?
Pac. O here; voy de grand admiration, as should meet perchance monsieur Finio.
Fin. Monsieur Pacue.
Pac. Jesu! by gar, who think we shall meete here?
Fin. By this hand, I am not a little proud of it, sir.
Oni. This trick is only for the chamber, it cannot be cleverly done abroad.
Pac. Well, what say you for dis den, monsieur?
Fin. Nay, pray, sir.
Pac. Par may foy vou bein encounters.
Fin. What do you mean, sir? let your glove alone.
Pac. Comen se porte la sante?
Fin. Faith, exceeding well, sir.
Pac. Trot, be mush joy for hear heire.
Fin. And how is it with you, sweet signior Pacue?
Pac. Fat comme vou voyez.
Oni. Young gentlemen, spirits of blood, if ever you'll taste of a sweet piece of mutton, do Onion a good turn now.
Pac. Que que, parla monsieur, what ist?
Oni. Faith, teach me one of these tricks.
Pac. O me shall do presently; stand you deere, you signior deer, myself is here; so, fort bein: now I parle to monsieur Onion, Onion pratla to you, you speaka to me, so, and as you parle, change the bonet. Monsieur Onion.
Oni. Monsieur Pacue.
Pac. Pray be covera.
Oni. Nay, I beseech you, sir.
Fin. What do you mean?
Pac. Pardon moy, shall be so.
Oni. O god, sir.
Fin. Not I, in good faith, sir.
Pac. By gar, you must.
Oni. It shall be yours.
Fin. Nay, then you wrong me.
Oni. Well, and ever I come to be great —
Pac. You be big enough for de Onion already.
Oni. I mean a great man.
Fin. Then thou'dst be a monster.
Oni. Well, god knows not what fortune may do, command me, use me from the soul to the crown, and the crown to the soul; meaning not only from the crown of the head, and the sole of the foot, but also the foot of the mind and the crowns of the purse. I cannot stay now, young gentlemen, but —— time was, time is, and time shall be.
Enter Chamont, Camillo.
Cha. Sweet Gasper, I am sorry we must part;
But strong necessity enforces it.
Let not the time seem long unto my friend,
Till my return; for by our love I swear
I will endeavour to effect this business
With all industrious care and happy speed.
Cam. My lord, these circumstances would come well
To one less capable of your desert
Than I, in whom your merit is confirm'd
With such authentical and grounded proofs.
Cha. Well, I will use no more. Gasper, adieu.
Cam. Farewell, my honour'd lord.
Cha. Commend me to the lady, my good Gasper.
Cam. I had remember'd that, had not you urg'd it.
Cha. Once more adieu, sweet Gasper.
Cam. My good lord.
Cha. Thy virtues are more precious than thy name;
Kind gentleman, I would not sell thy love
For all the earthly objects that mine eyes
Have ever tasted. Sure thou art nobly born,
However fortune hath obscur'd thy birth;
For native honour sparkles in thine eyes.
How may I bless the time wherein Chamont,
My honour'd father, did surprize Vicenza,
Where this my friend (known by no name) was found,
Being then a child, and scarce of power to speak,
To whom my father gave this name of Gasper,
And as his own respected him to death;
Since when we two have shar'd our mutual fortunes
With equal spirits, and but death's rude hand,
No violence shall dissolve the sacred band.
Enter Juniper in his shop, singing. To him Onion.
Oni. Fellow, Juniper, no more of thy songs and sonnets; sweet Juniper, no more of thy hymns and madrigals; thou sing'st, but I sigh.
Junip. What's the matter, Peter, ha? what in an academy still! still in sable and black costly array, ha?
Oni. Prithee rise, mount, mount, sweet Juniper; for I go down the wind, and yet I puff, for I am vext.
Junip. Ha, bully! vext! what, intoxicate! is thy brain in a quintessence, an idea, a metamorphosis, an apology, ha, rogue? Come, this love feeds upon thee, I see by thy cheeks, and drinks healths of vermilion tears, I see by thine eyes.
Oni. I confess Cupid's carouse, he plays super negulum with my liquor of life.
Junip. Tut, thou art a goose to be Cupid's gull; go to; no more of this contemplations and calculations; mourn not, for Rachel's thine own.
Oni. For that let the higher powers work; but sweet Juniper, I am not sad for her, and yet for her in a second person, or if not, yet so in a third.
Junip. How! second person! away, away. In the crotchets already! longitude and latitude! what second? what person? ha?
Oni. Juniper, I'll bewray myself before thee, for thy company is sweet unto me; but I must intreat thy helping hand in the case.
Junip. Tut, no more of this surquedry; I am thine own ad unguem, upsie freeze1; pell mell, come, what case? what case?
Oni. For the case, it may be any man's case, as well as mine. Rachel I mean; but I'll meddle with her anon; in the mean time, Valentine is the man has wronged me.
Junip. How! my Ingle wrong thee! is't possible!
Oni. Your Ingle! hang him, infidel. Well, and if I be not revenged on him, let Peter Onion (by the infernal gods) be turned to a leek, or a scalion. I spake to him for a ditty for this handkerchief.
Junip. Why, has he not done it?
Oni. Done it! not a verse, by this hand.
Junip. O in diebus illis! O preposterous! well, come, be blith; the best inditer of them all is sometimes dull. Fellow Onion, pardon mine Ingle; he is a man has imperfections and declinations, as other men have; his muse sometimes cannot curvet, nor prognosticate and come off, as it should; no matter, I'll hammer out a paraphrase for thee myself.
Oni. No, sweet Juniper, no; danger doth breed delay; love makes me choleric, I can bear no longer.
Junip. Not bear what? my mad meridian slave. Not bear what?
Oni. Cupid's burden, 'tis too heavy, too tolerable; and as for the handkerchief and the posie, I will not trouble thee; but if thou wilt go with me into her father's backside, old Jaques' back-side, and speak for me to Rachel, I will not be ingratitude; the old man is abroad and all.
Junip. Art thou sure on't?
Oni. As sure an obligation.
Junip. Let's away then; come, we spend time in a vain circumference; trade, I casheer thee till to-morrow: fellow Onion, for thy sake I finish this workiday.
Oni. God a mercy, and for thy sake I'll at any time make a holiday.
1 Ad unguem, upsie freeze.] This last phrase is of the same meaning with upsee Dutch, which occurs in the Alchemist, and is there explained as a corruption of the Dutch 'op-zee' which means 'over sea'-- used as a proverbial expression for drinking until drunk.
Enter Angelo, Rachel.
Ang. Nay, I prithee, Rachel, I come to comfort thee,
Be not so sad.
Rach. O signior Angelo,
No comfort but his presence can remove
This sadness from my heart.
Ang. Nay, then you're fond,
And what that strength of judgment and election
That should be attendant on your years and form.
Will you, because your lord is taken prisoner,
Blubber and weep, and keep a peevish stir,
As though you would turn turtle with the news?
Come, come, be wise. 'Sblood say your lord should die,
And you go mar your face as you begin,
What would you do, trow? who would care for you?
But this it is, when nature will bestow
Her gifts on such as know not how to use them;
You shall have some, that had they but once quarter
Of your fair beauty, they would make it shew
A little otherwise than you do this,
Or they would see the painter twice an hour;
And I commend them I, that can use art
With such judicial practice.
Rach. You talk idly;
If this be your best comfort, keep it still,
My senses cannot feed on such sour cates.
Ang. And why, sweet heart?
Rach. Nay, leave, good signior.
Ang. Come, I have sweeter viands yet in store.
Enter Onion and Juniper.
Junip. In any case, mistress Rachel.
Rach. God's pity, signior Angelo, I hear my father; away for God's sake.
Ang. 'Sblood, I am bewitch'd, I think; this is twice now I have been served thus.
Rach. Pray God he meet him not.
Oni. O brave! she's yonder: O terrible! she's gone.
Junip. Yea, so nimble in your dilemmas, and your hyperboles!
Hay my love! O my love at the first sight, by the mass!
Oni. O how she scudded! O sweet scud, how she tripped! O delicate trip and go!
Junip. Come, thou art enamoured with the influence of her profundity; but, sirrah, hark a little.
Oni. O rare! what? what? passing, i'faith! what is't? what is't?
Junip. What wilt thou say now, if Rachel stand now, and play hity-tity through the key-hole, to behold the equipage of thy person?
Oni. O sweet equipage! try, good Juniper, tickle her, talk, talk; O rare!
Junip. Mistress Rachel, (watch then if her father come;)
Rachel! Madona! Rachel! No.
Oni. Say I am here; Onion, or Peter, or so.
Junip. No, I'll knock; we'll not stand upon horizons and tricks, but fall roundly to the matter.
Oni. Well said, sweet Juniper. Horizons! hang 'em, knock, knock.
Rach. Who's there! father?
Junip. Father! no; and yet a father, if you'll please to be a mother.
Oni. Well said, Juniper; to her again; a smack or two more of the mother.
Junip. Do you hear, sweet soul, sweet radamant, sweet mathavel? one word, Melpomene, are you at leisure?
Rach. At leisure! what to do?
Junip. To do what! to do nothing, but to be liable to the extasy of true love's exigent, or so; you smell my meaning.
Oni. Smell! filthy, fellow Juniper, filthy. Smell! O most odious!
Junip. How filthy?
Oni. Filthy by this finger. Smell! smell a rat, smell a pudding. Away, these tricks are for trulls; a plain wench loves plain dealing; I'll upon her myself, smell to march-pain wench.
Junip. With all my heart; I'll be legitimate and silent as an apple-squire; I'll see nothing, and say nothing.
Oni. Sweet heart! sweet heart!
Junip. And bag pudding, ha, ha, ha.
Jaques within. What Rachel! my girl, what Rachel!
Oni. God's lid.
Jaq. What Rachel!
Rach. Here I am.
Oni. What rakehel calls Rachel? O treason to my love!
Junip. It's her father, on my life! how shall we intrench and edify ourselves from him?
Oni. O coney-catching Cupid! Enter Jaques.
Jaq. How is my back-side? where? what come they for?
[Onion gets up into a tree.
What are they? Rachel! thieves! thieves!
Stay, villain, slave. Rachel, untie my dog.
Nay, thief, thou canst not 'scape.
Junip. I pray you, sir.
Oni. Ah pitiful Onion! that thou hadst a rope.
Jaq. Why Rachel! when I say, let loose my dog,
Garlick, my mastiff, let him loose, I say.
Junip. For god's sake hear me speak, keep up your cur.
Oni. I fear not Garlick, he'll not bite Onion his kinsman; pray God he come out, and then they'll not smell me.
Jaq. Well then deliver; come, deliver, slave.
Junip. What should I deliver?
Jaq. O thou wouldst have me tell thee, wouldst thou? Shew me thy hands, what hast thou in thy hands?
Junip. Here be my hands.
Jaq. Stay, are thy fingers-ends begrim'd with dirt? no, thou hast wip'd them.
Junip. Wip'd them!
Jaq. I, thou villain; thou art a subtil knave. Put off thy shoes; come, I will see them;2 give me a knife here, Rachel, I'll rip the soles.
Oni. No matter, he's a cobler, he can mend them.
Junip. What, are you mad? are you detestable? would you make an anatomy of me? think you I am not true orthography?
Jaq. Orthography, anatomy!
Junip. For God's sake be not so inviolable, I am no ambuscado; what predicament call you this? why do you intimate so much?
Jaq. I can feel nothing.
Oni. By'r lady, but Onion feels something.
Jaq. Soft, sir, you are not yet gone; shake your legs, come, and your arms, be brief: stay, let me see these drums, these kilderkins, these bombard slops, what is it charms 'em so.
Junip. Nothing but hair.
Jaq. That's true, I had almost forgot this rug, this hedgehog's nest, this hay-mow, this bear's-skin, this heath, this furze-bush.
Junip. O let me go, you tear my hair, you revolve my brains and understanding.
Jaq. Heart, thou art somewhat eas'd; half of my fear
Hath ta'en his leave of me, the other half
Still keeps possession in despight of hope,
Until these amorous eyes court my fair gold.
Dear, I come to thee; fiend, why art not gone?
Avoid, my soul's vexation; Satan, hence;
Why do'st thou stare on me? why do'st thou stay!
Why por'st thou on the ground with thievish eyes?
What seest thou there, thou cur? what gap'st thou at?
Hence from my house. Rachel, send Garlick forth.
Junip. I am gone, sir, I am gone; for god's sake stay.
Jaq. Pack; and thank God thou 'scap'st so well away.
Oni. If I escape this tree, destinies I defy you.
Jaq. I cannot see, by any characters
Writ on this earth, that any felon foot
Hath ta'en acquaintance with this hallow'd ground.
None sees me; knees, do homage to your lord.
'Tis safe, 'tis safe; it lies and sleeps so soundly,
'Twould do one good to look on't. If this bliss
Be given to any man that hath much gold,
Justly to say 'tis safe, I say 'tis safe.
O what a heavenly round these two words dance
Within me and without me; first I think 'em,
And then I speak 'em; then I watch their sound,
And drink it greedily with both mine eyes:
Then think, then speak, then drink their sound again,
And racket round about this body's court,
These two sweet words, 'tis safe. Stay, I will feed
My other senses. O how sweet it smells!
Oni. I mar'l he smells not Onion, being so near it.
Jaq. Down to thy grave again, thou beauteous ghost,
Angels, men say, are spirits; spirits be
Invisible; bright angels, are you so?
Be you invisible to every eye,
Save only these: sleep, I'll not break your rest,
Though you break mine. Dear saints, adieu, adieu,
My feet part from you, but my soul dwells with you.
Oni. Is he gone? O fortune my friend, and not fortune my foe,
I come down to embrace thee, and kiss thy great toe.
Junip. Fellow Onion! Peter!
Oni. Fellow Juniper.
Junip. What's the old panurgo gone, departed cosmografied, ha?
Oni. O, I; and hark, sirrah. Shall I tell him? no.
Junip. Nay, be brief, and declare; stand not upon conundrums now: thou knowest what contagious speeches I have suffered for thy sake, and he should come again and invent me here.
Oni. He says true, it was for my sake, I will tell him. Sirrah, Juniper! and yet I will not.
Junip. What sayest thou, sweet Onion?
Oni. And thou hadst smelt the scent of me when I was in the tree, thou wouldst not have said so: but, sirrah, the case is altered with me, my heart has given love a box of the ear, made him kick up his heels, i'faith.
Junip. Sayest thou me so, mad Greek! how haps it? how chances it?
Oni. I cannot hold it, Juniper; have an eye, look, have an eye to the door; the old proverb's true, I see, Gold is but muck. Nay, godso, Juniper, to the door; an eye to the main chance; here, you slave, have an eye.
Junip. O inexorable! O infallible! O intricate, divine, and superficial fortune!
Oni. Nay, it will be sufficient anon; here, look here!
Junip. O insolent good luck! how didst thou produce the intelligence of the gold minerals?
Oni. I'll tell thee that anon; here, make shift, convey, cram. I'll teach you how you shall call for Garlick again, i'faith.
Junip. 'Sblood what shall we do with all this? we shall never bring it to a consumption.
Oni. Consumption! why we'll be most sumptuously attired, man.
Junip. By this gold, I will have three or four most stigmatical suits presently.
Oni. I'll go in my foot-cloth, I'll turn gentleman.
Junip. So will I.
Oni. But what badge shall we give, what cullisen?3
Junip. As for that, let's use the infidelity and commiseration of some harrot of arms, he shall give us a gudgeon.
Oni. A gudgeon! a scutcheon thou wouldst say, man.
Junip. A scutcheon, or a gudgeon, all is one.
Oni. Well, our arms be good enough, let's look to our legs.
Junip. Content, we'll be jogging.
Oni. Rachel, we retire; Garlick, Godb'ye.
Junip. Farewell, sweet Jaques.
Oni. Farewell, sweet Rachel; sweet dog,
1 Junip. Wip'd them!
Jaq. I, thou villain; thou art a subtil knave. Put off thy shoes; come, I will see them.]
We said before, that Jonson, in the character of Jaques, hath copied the Euclio of Plautus; and this scene is an imitation of the Latin, where Strobilus is examined by the miser in the like manner. But the pleasantries of this scene are within the bounds of nature; and severer judgment instructed Jonson not to outrage his characters, as Plautus did before him. Jaques examines both the hands of Juniper, but he does not, like Euclio, bid him produce his third hand.
Euc. Ostende huc manus.
Strob. Hem tibi ostendi, eccas.
Euc. Video, age ostende etiam tertiam.
No degree of avarice could lead one to suppose, that a man has three hands.
2 Oni. I'll go in my foot-cloth; I'll turn gentleman.
Junip. So will I.
Oni. But what badge shall we give, what cullison?] I'll go in my foot-cloth — that is, I'll have my horse dress'd in his caparisons and housings, as gentlemen used to ride; and hence they were called foot-cloth nags. —— What badge shall we give, what cullison? So in Every Man out of his Humour, "I'll give coats, that's my humour: but I lack a cullisen." Act 1. scene 2. And I there observed, that no Dictionary will help us to the meaning of the word. It seems to be something relative to a coat of arms, or a crest to point out whose livery the servants wore; but if it ever was a term in heraldry, it is no longer in use, and now unknown to the heralds themselves. Indeed it sometimes happens, that a variation of the spelling will direct us to the etymology and meaning of a word, which may be still retained in use, but with a little change and difference in the letters: but this supposition gives us no light here. However, I must take leave to quote one passage from our poet, where a departure from the usual way of writing and pronunciation, led me to suspect it might possibly be a corruption, which I have since found is not so. The passage I mean, is in his Elegy on the Lady Digby:
"Sleepy, or stupid Nature, could'st thou part
"With such a rarity, and not rouse art
"With all her aids, to save her from the seize
"Of vulture death, and those relentless clies?"
The last word appeared to me either an error, or the same with claws, only varied in the spelling for the sake of rhime; and such I have since found it to be. For what we usually call the claws, is wrote, in Minshew, the cleyes of a crab, scorpion, &c.
Enter Maximilian, Count Ferneze, Aurelia, Phœnixella, Pacue.
Max. Nay, but sweet count.
Count. Away, I'll hear no more;
Never was man so palpably abus'd,
My son so basely marted, and myself
Am made the subject of your mirth and scorn.
Max. Count Ferneze, you tread too hard upon my patience,
Do not persist, I advise your lordship.
Count. I will persist, and unto thee I speak;
Thou, Maximilian, thou hast injur'd me.
Max. Before the Lord:—
Aur. Sweet signior.
Phœ. O my father.
Max. Lady, let your father thank your beauty.
Pac. By gar, me shall be hang for tella dis same,
Me tella mademoiselle, she tell her fadera.
Count. The true Chamont set free, and one left here
Of no descent, clad barely, in his name.
Sirrah, boy, come hither, and be sure you speak the simple truth.
Pac. O pardone moy, monsieur.
Count. Come, leave you pardons, and directly say,
What villain is the same that hath usurpt
The honour'd name and person of Chamont.
Pac. O monsieur, no point villain, brave chevalier, Monsieur Gasper.
Count. Monsieur Gasper!
On what occasion did they change their names?
What was their policy or their pretext?
Pac. Me canno tell, par ma foy, monsieur.
Max. My honourable lord.
Count. Tut, tut, be silent.
Max. Silent, count Ferneze! I tell thee, if Amurath, the great Turk, were here, I would speak, and he should hear me.
Count. So will not I.
Max. By my father's hand, but thou shalt, count. I say, till this instant I was never touch'd in my reputation. Hear me, you shall know that you have wrong'd me, and I will make you acknowledge it; if I cannot, my sword shall.
Count. By heaven I will not, I will stop mine ears,
My senses lothe the savour of thy breath;
'Tis poison to me; I say, I will not hear.
What shall I know? 'tis you have injur'd me.
What will you make? make me acknowledge it.
Fetch forth that Gasper, that lewd counterfeit.
Enter serving-man with Camillo.
I'll make him to your face approve your wrongs.
Come on, false substance, shadow to Chamont,4
Had you none else to work upon but me?
Was I your fittest project? well, confess
What you intended by this secret plot,
And by whose policy it was contriv'd.
Speak truth, and be intreated courteously;
But double with me, and resolve to prove
The extremest rigour that I can inflict.
Cam. My honour'd lord, hear me with patience,
Nor hope of favour, nor the fear of torment,
Shall sway my tongue from uttering of truth.
Count. 'Tis well, proceed then.
Cam. The morn before this battle did begin,
Wherein my lord Chamont and I were ta'en,
We vow'd one mutual fortune, good or bad,
That day should be embraced of us both;
And urging that might worse succeed our vow,
We there concluded to exchange our names.
Count. Then Maximilian took you for Chamont.
Cam. True, noble lord.
Count. 'Tis false, ignoble wretch,
'Twas but a complot to betray my son.
Max. Count, thou lyest in thy bosom, count.
Cam. Nay, I beseech you, honour'd gentlemen,
Let not the untimely ruin of your love
Follow these slight occurrents; be assur'd
Chamont's return will heal these wounds again,
And break the points of your too piercing thoughts.
Count. Return! I, when? when will Chamont return?
He'll come to fetch you, will he? I, 'tis like.
You'd have me think so, that's your policy.
No, no, young gallant, your device is stale;
You cannot feed me with so vain a hope.
Cam. My lord, I feed you not with a vain hope,
I know assuredly he will return,
And bring your noble son along with him.
Max. I, I dare pawn my soul he will return.
Count. O impudent derision! open scorn!
Intolerable wrong! is't not enough
That you have play'd upon me all this while,
But still to mock me, still to jest at me?
Fellows, away with him; thou ill-bred slave,
That sett'st no difference 'twixt a noble spirit
And thy own slavish humour; do not think
But I'll take worthy vengeance on thee, wretch.
Cam. Alas, these threats are idle, like the wind,
And breed no terror in the guiltless mind.
Count. Nay thou shalt want no torture, so resolve;
Bring him away.
Cam. Welcome the worst, I suffer for a friend,
Your tortures will, my love shall never, end.
Manent Maximilian, Aurelia, Phœnixella, Pacue.
Phœn. Alas! poor gentleman, my father's rage
Is too extreme, too stern and violent.
O that I knew with all my strongest powers
How to remove it from thy patient breast!
But that I cannot, yet my willing heart
Shall minister, in spight of tyranny,
To thy misfortune; something there is in him
That doth enforce the strange affection
With more than common rapture in my breast:
For being but Jasper, he is still as dear
To me, as when he did Chamont appear.
Aur. But in good sadness, signior, do you think
Chamont will e'er return?
Max. Do I see your face, lady?
Aur. I, sure, if love has not blinded you.
Max. That is a question; but I will assure you no: I can see, and yet love is in mine eye. Well, the count your father simply hath dishonour'd me, and this steel shall engrave it on his burgonet.
Aur. Nay, sweet signior.
Max. Lady, I do prefer my reputation to my life;
But you shall rule me. Come, let's march.
Aur. I'll follow, signior. O sweet queen of love!
Sovereign of all my thoughts, and thou fair fortune,
Who (more to honour my affections)
Hast thus translated Gasper to Chamont!
Let both your flames now burn in one bright sphere,
And give true light to my aspiring hopes:
Hasten Chamont's return, let him affect me,
Though father, friends, and all the world reject me.
1 Fetch forth that Gasper, that lewd counterfeit.
Enter serving-man with Camillo.
Come on, false substance, shadow to Chamont.]
The whole incident of Paulo Ferneze's being taken prisoner on the one side, and Chamont and Camillo on the other, with the exchanging their names, and Camillo's being left for Chamont, is taken from the Captivi of Plautus. The son of Hegio is taken prisoner; and with a view to ransom his son by the exchange, Hegio buys Philocrates and Tyndarus, two Elian captives. Tyndarus is slave to Philocrates, and is left under his master's name, while the true Philocrates is sent to Elis, under the name of Tyndarus, to effect the liberty of Philoptolemus the son of Hegio. The fraud however is discovered to Hegio, before the return of Philocrates; and Tyndarus is put to the torture, and sent to the mines. At the return of Philoptolemus and Philocrates, with whom also there comes Stalagmus, a fugitive slave of Hegio, it is discovered that Tyndarus is the son of Hegio, who was carried away by Stalagmus at the age of four years, and sold by him to the father of Philocrates. The reader will perceive from this account, the exact similitude between the copy and the original; and I have been thus particular in pointing out the resemblance, for the assistance of those who may want the ability of comparing them together.
Last updated Monday, December 22, 2014 at 10:52