Complete Works of Terence Read online

  The Complete Works of

  TERENCE

  (c.195–159 BC)

  Contents

  The Translations

  THE GIRL FROM ANDROS

  THE MOTHER-IN-LAW

  THE SELF-TORMENTOR

  PHORMIO

  THE EUNUCH

  THE BROTHERS

  The Latin Texts

  LIST OF LATIN TEXTS

  The Biographies

  THE LIFE OF TERENCE by Suetonius

  ROMAN COMEDY AND TERENCE by C. E. Freeman

  The Delphi Classics Catalogue

  © Delphi Classics 2013

  Version 1

  The Complete Works of

  TERENCE

  By Delphi Classics, 2013

  COPYRIGHT

  Complete Works of Terence

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2013 by Delphi Classics.

  © Delphi Classics, 2013.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.

  ISBN: 978 1 90949 633 0

  Delphi Classics

  is an imprint of

  Delphi Publishing Ltd

  Hastings, East Sussex

  United Kingdom

  Contact: [email protected]

  www.delphiclassics.com

  The Translations

  Ancient Carthage — believed to be the birthplace of Publius Terentius Afer, whose mother was a Carthaginian slave

  THE GIRL FROM ANDROS

  Translated by Henry Thomas Riley

  This comedy was Terence’s first play, which was based on a Greek original by the Athenian playwright Menander, who flourished over a hundred and fifty years before Terence’s time. Roman art often looked back to Greek models for inspiration and the master of New Comedy, Menander, was always a popular choice with audiences. The Girl from Andros was first performed at Rome in 170 BC.

  Unlike the mythical or fantasy-themed farces of Old Comedy, of which genre Aristophanes was the undoubted master, New Comedy instead offered tales of modern life, where everyday characters were faced with social issues and comedic complications. These plays often featured the reckless sons of noblemen and their unlucky romantic relationships, cunning slaves that try their hardest to help their masters — often with hilarious consequences — and long-lost relatives eventually being reunited with their families and other similar ‘twist-at-the-end’ events.

  The Girl from Andros introduces the character Pamphilus, who has promised to wed Glycerium, a low-born girl from the Greek island of Andros. However, Pamphilus’ father Simo is aware of his son’s intentions and arranges a ‘fake’ wedding to a rich noblewoman in order to test the loyalty of his son and his devious slave Davus.

  An original papyrus fragment of Menander’s play

  CONTENTS

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  THE SUBJECT.

  THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.

  THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.

  THE PROLOGUE.

  ACT THE FIRST.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  ACT THE SECOND.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  Scene VII.

  ACT THE THIRD.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  Scene VII.

  Scene VIII.

  ACT THE FOURTH.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  Scene VII.

  Scene VIII.

  Scene IX.

  ACT THE FIFTH.

  Scene I.

  Scene II.

  Scene III.

  Scene IV.

  Scene V.

  Scene VI.

  Scene VII.

  A Roman relief depicting a scene from this play

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  Simo, an aged Athenian.

  Pamphilus, son of Simo.

  Sosia, freedman of Simo.

  Chremes, an aged Athenian.

  Charinus, a young Athenian, in love with Philumena.

  Crito, a native of Andros.

  Davus, servant of Simo.

  Dromo, servant of Simo.

  Byrrhia, servant of Charinus.

  Glycerium, a young woman beloved by Pamphilus.

  Mysis, her maid-servant.

  Lesbia, a midwife.

  Scene. — Athens; before the houses of Simo and Glycerium.

  THE SUBJECT.

  Chremes and Phania were brothers, citizens of Athens. Chremes going to Asia, leaves his daughter, Pasibula, in the care of his brother Phania, who, afterward setting sail with Pasibula for Asia, is wrecked off the Isle of Andros. Escaping with their lives, they are kindly received by a native of the island; and Phania soon afterward dies there. The Andrian changes the name of the girl to Glycerium, and brings her up, as his own child, with his daughter Chrysis. On his death, Chrysis and Glycerium sail for Athens to seek their fortune there. Chrysis being admired by several Athenian youths, Pamphilus, the son of Simo, an opulent citizen, chances to see Glycerium, and falls violently in love with her. She afterward becomes pregnant by him, on which he makes her a promise of marriage. In the mean time, Chremes, who is now living at Athens, and is ignorant of the fate of Pasibula, agrees with Simo, the father of Pamphilus, to give Philumena, another daughter, in marriage to Pamphilus. While these arrangements are being made, Chrysis dies; on which Simo accidentally discovers his son’s connection with Glycerium. Chremes, also coming to hear of it, declines the match, having no idea that Glycerium is really his own daughter. Simo, however, in order to test his son’s feelings, resolves to pretend that the marriage-day is fixed. Meeting Pamphilus in the town, he desires him to go home and prepare for the wedding, which is to take place immediately. In his perplexity, the youth has recourse to his servant Davus, who, having heard of the refusal of Chremes, suspects the design of Simo. At this conjuncture, Charinus, a friend of Pamphilus, who is enamored of Philumena, but has been rejected by her father, entreats Pamphilus to put off the marriage, for at least a few days. Disclosing his own aversion to the match, Pamphilus readily engages to do this. In order the more effectually to break it off, Davus advises Pamphilus to pretend a readiness to comply with his father’s wishes, supposing that of course Chremes will steadily persist in his refusal. Pamphilus does as he is advised, on which Simo again applies to Chremes, who, after some entreaty, gives his consent. Just at this conjuncture, Glycerium is delivered of a son; and by the advice of Davus, it is laid before the door of Simo’s house. Chremes happening to see it there, and ascertaining that Pamphilus is its father, again refuses to give him his daughter. At this moment, Crito, a native of Andros, arrives, who, being a relative of Chrysis, has come to Athens to look after her property. Through him, Chremes discovers that Glycerium is no other than his long-lost daughter, Pasibula; on which he consents to her immediate marriage with Pamphilus, who promises Charinus that he will use his best endeavors to obtain for him the hand of Philumena.

  THE TITLE OF THE PLAY.

  Performed at the Megalensian Games; M. Fulvius and M. Glabrio being Curule Æediles. Ambivius Turpio and Lucius Atilius Prænestinus performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music, t
o a pair of treble flutes and bass flutes alternately. And it is entirely Grecian. Published — M. Marcellus and Cneius Sulpicius being Consuls.

  THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS.

  Pamphilus seduces Glycerium, wrongfully supposed to be a sister of a Courtesan, an Andrian by birth; and she having become pregnant, he gives his word that she shall be his wife; but his father has engaged for him another, the daughter of Chremes; and when he discovers the intrigue he pretends that the nuptials are about to take place, desiring to learn what intentions his son may have. By the advice of Davus, Pamphilus does not resist; but Chremes, as soon as he has seen the little child born of Glycerium, breaks off the match, and declines him for a son-in-law. Afterward, this Glycerium, unexpectedly discovered to be his own daughter, he bestows as a wife on Pamphilus, the other on Charinus.

  THE PROLOGUE.

  The poet, when first he applied his mind to writing, thought that the only duty which devolved on him was, that the Plays he should compose might please the public. But he perceives that it has fallen out entirely otherwise; for he is wasting his labor in writing Prologues, not for the purpose of relating the plot, but to answer the slanders of a malevolent old Poet. Now I beseech you, give your attention to the thing which they impute as a fault. Menander composed the Andrian and the Perinthian. He who knows either of them well, will know them both; they are in plot not very different, and yet they have been composed in different language and style. What suited, he confesses he has transferred into the Andrian from the Perinthian, and has employed them as his own. These parties censure this proceeding; and on this point they differ from him, that Plays ought not to be mixed up together. By being thus knowing, do they not show that they know nothing at all? For while they are censuring him, they are censuring Nævius, Plautus, and Ennius, whom our Poet has for his precedents; whose carelessness he prefers to emulate, rather than the mystifying carefulness of those parties. Therefore, I advise them to be quiet in future, and to cease to slander; that they may not be made acquainted with their own misdeeds. Be well disposed, then; attend with unbiased mind, and consider the matter, that you may determine what hope is left; whether the Plays which he shall in future compose anew, are to be witnessed, or are rather to be driven off the stage.

  ACT THE FIRST.

  Scene I.

  Enter Simo and Sosia, followed by Servants carrying provisions.

  Simo (to the Servants.) Do you carry those things away in-doors; begone. (Beckoning to Sosia.) Sosia, just step here; I want a few words with you.

  Sosia. Consider it as said; that these things are to be taken care of, I suppose.

  Sim. No, it’s another matter.

  Sos. What is there that my ability can effect for you more than this?

  Sim. There’s no need of that ability in the matter which I have in hand; but of those qualities which I have ever known as existing in you, fidelity and secrecy.

  Sos. I await your will.

  Sim. Since I purchased you, you know that, from a little child, your servitude with me has always been easy and light. From a slave I made you my freedman; for this reason, because you served me with readiness. The greatest recompense that I possessed, I bestowed upon you.

  Sos. I bear it in mind.

  Sim. I am not changed.

  Sos. If I have done or am doing aught that is pleasing to you, Simo, I am glad that it has been done; and that the same has been gratifying to you, I consider sufficient thanks. But this is a cause of uneasiness to me; for the recital is, as it were, a censure to one forgetful of a kindness. But tell me, in one word, what it is that you want with me.

  Sim. I’ll do so. In the first place, in this affair I give you notice: this, which you suppose to be such, is not a real marriage.

  Sos. Why do you pretend it then?

  Sim. You shall hear all the matter from the beginning; by that means you’ll be acquainted with both my son’s mode of life and my own design, and what I want you to do in this affair. For after he had passed youthfulness, Sosia, and had obtained free scope of living, (for before, how could you know or understand his disposition, while youthful age, fear, and a master were checking him?) —

  Sos. That’s true.

  Sim. What all young men, for the most part, do, — devote their attention to some particular pursuit, either to training horses or dogs for hunting, or to the philosophers; in not one of these did he engage in particular beyond the rest, and yet in all of them in a moderate degree. I was pleased.

  Sos. Not without reason; for this I deem in life to be especially advantageous; that one do nothing to excess.

  Sim. Such was his mode of life; readily to bear and to comply with all; with whomsoever he was in company, to them to resign himself; to devote himself to their pursuits; at variance with no one; never preferring himself to them. Thus most readily you may acquire praise without envy, and gain friends.

  Sos. He has wisely laid down his rule of life; for in these days obsequiousness begets friends; sincerity, dislike.

  Sim. Meanwhile, three years ago, a certain woman from Andros removed hither into this neighborhood, driven by poverty and the neglect of her relations, of surpassing beauty and in the bloom of youth.

  Sos. Ah! I’m afraid that this Andrian will bring some mischief.

  Sim. At first, in a modest way, she passed her life with thriftiness and in hardship, seeking a livelihood with her wool and loom. But after an admirer made advances, promising her a recompense, first one and then another; as the disposition of all mankind has a downward tendency from industry toward pleasure, she accepted their proposals, and then began to trade upon her beauty. Those who then were her admirers, by chance, as it often happens, took my son thither that he might be in their company. Forthwith I said to myself, “He is surely caught; he is smitten.” In the morning I used to observe their servant-boys coming or going away; I used to make inquiry, “Here, my lad, tell me, will you, who had Chrysis yesterday?” for that was the name of the Andrian (touching Sosia on the arm).

  Sos. I understand.

  Sim. Phædrus, or Clinias, or Niceratus, they used to say; for these three then loved her at the same time. “Well now, what did Pamphilus do?” “What? He gave his contribution; he took part in the dinner.” Just so on another day I made inquiry, but I discovered nothing whatever that affected Pamphilus. In fact, I thought him sufficiently proved, and a great pattern of continence; for he who is brought into contact with dispositions of that sort, and his feelings are not aroused even under such circumstances, you may be sure that he is already capable of undertaking the governance of his own life. This pleased me, and every body with one voice began to say all kinds of flattering things, and to extol my good fortune, in having a son endowed with such a disposition. What need is there of talking? Chremes, influenced by this report, came to me of his own accord, to offer his only daughter as a wife to my son, with a very large portion. It pleased me; I betrothed him; this was the day appointed for the nuptials.

  Sos. What then stands in the way? Why should they not take place?

  Sim. You shall hear. In about a few days after these things had been agreed on, Chrysis, this neighbor, dies.

  Sos. Bravo! You’ve made me happy. I was afraid for him on account of Chrysis.

  Sim. Then my son was often there, with those who had admired Chrysis; with them he took charge of the funeral; sorrowful, in the mean time, he sometimes wept with them in condolence. Then that pleased me. Thus I reflected: “He by reason of this slight intimacy takes her death so much to heart; what if he himself had wooed her? What will he do for me his father?” All these things I took to be the duties of a humane disposition and of tender feelings. Why do I detain you with many words? Even I myself, for his sake, went forth to the funeral, as yet suspecting no harm.

  Sos. Ha! what is this?

  Sim. You shall know. She is brought out; we proceed. In the mean time, among the females who were there present, I saw by chance one young woman of beauteous form.

&
nbsp; Sos. Very likely.

  Sim. And of countenance, Sosia, so modest, so charming, that nothing could surpass. As she appeared to me to lament beyond the rest, and as she was of a figure handsome and genteel beyond the other women, I approached the female attendants; I inquired who she was. They said that she was the sister of Chrysis. It instantly struck my mind: “Ay, ay, this is it; hence those tears, hence that sympathy.”

  Sos. How I dread what you are coming to!

  Sim. The funeral procession meanwhile advances; we follow; we come to the burying-place. She is placed upon the pile; they weep. In the mean time, this sister, whom I mentioned, approached the flames too incautiously, with considerable danger. There, at that moment, Pamphilus, in his extreme alarm, discovers his well-dissembled and long-hidden passion; he runs up, clasps the damsel by the waist. “My Glycerium,” says he, “what are you doing? Why are you going to destroy yourself?” Then she, so that you might easily recognize their habitual attachment, weeping, threw herself back upon him — how affectionately!

  Sos. What do you say?

  Sim. I returned thence in anger, and hurt at heart: and yet there was not sufficient ground for reproving him. He might say; “What have I done? How have I deserved this, or offended, father? She who wished to throw herself into the flames, I prevented; I saved her.” The defense is a reasonable one.

  Sos. You judge aright; for if you censure him who has assisted to preserve life, what are you to do to him who causes loss or misfortune to it?

  Sim. Chremes comes to me next day, exclaiming: “Disgraceful conduct!” — that he had ascertained that Pamphilus was keeping this foreign woman as a wife. I steadfastly denied that to be the fact. He insisted that it was the fact. In short, I then left him refusing to bestow his daughter.