I've got half a mind to make like Aristarchus,
The way he wails over poor old Achilles' carcass.
I think I will. How's this: LET THERE BE QUIET!
Solemnly please to dispel and quell your riot!
Look at ME!...If you'll graciously pardon my being blunt.
I bring these high commands straight from the front...
Office, where they hope you'll relax on your butt
Whether your belly's had its fill or not.
Frankly, you showed more sense if you fed your face.
If not, you'll soon be fed up enough with us; (10)
For although I grant you a play is a trick that's a treat,
Only a fool wants nothing else to eat.
(To the bouncer/announcer)
Hey you! Climb up and make this crowd calm down.
I've been wanting to see you do your stuff, you clown.
Open your mouth! It's all you've got to live by,
And silence is just about golden enough to starve by.
That's dandy! Go sit down and I'll double your pay.
(To audience)
Obsequious thanks for that obedient display.
Now, we want no whores up here in the actors' laps,
And you brass-buttons can just button up your lips. (20)
Ushers are instructed not to ush, or float
Around while the actors are trying to emote.
If you lay too long in bed, now you'll stand on the floor;
You won't find a seat. And if you must sleep, don't snore.
Any slaves in here, just back right out the door
And leave us room, unless you've got cash in your purse
Anc can buy yourself off; otherwise things'll be worse
By a hundred percent at home, with our welts on your back
And Master cracking the whip, to see you've been slack.
Nurses! we want no brats in here, so tote 'em (30)
Back, every bawling bundle, wherever you got 'em;
Or else when the plot gets thick you may run dry,
And even if the little dears don't die
They'll bleat for nanny's breast like a bunch of goats.
Housewives, hold your tongues down to your throats.
Watch silently. Laugh silently! And chirping is
for the birds.
Chatter as much as you like in your own backyards,
But your husbands came here to hear some sweeter words.
As for the judges: debate and adjudicate
Straight. Don't nominate a second-rate (40)
Or favor friends, or cater to your kin,
Or generally manage to make the worst man win.
Oh yes!-and it had nearly slipped my mind-
Lackeys! Off to the sweetshop! All you find
Is yours while we sit rooted to the spot;
Might as well take 'em while the tarts are hot!
That's just about the gist of the management's advice,
And I'll thank you not to make me say it twice.
Now, I'd like to go back and bone you up on the spine
Of the play, so your erudition matches mine. (50)
I'll set its limits, I'll bound it, I'll plumb its line,
Because yours truly is surveyour-elect.
I'll give you the title first if you don't object,
Although of course I'll do it in any case,
That being the big idea with my boss.
All right then. The moniker is Carchedonius,
Which gets translated, thanks to Plautus' genius,
As a Roman Oatmeal Consumer The Uncle.
And now let's get along to something vital,
Like my synopsis, which I must here submit, (60)
Surrender, and defend just as if it
Was a tax return on my whole haul of wit,
My own Internal Relevance; and as if these flats
Were meant for the Bureau, and you the bureaucrats.
So pay attention-in cash, please. There were a couple
Of cousins, very rich and ritzy people,
As upper as a Carthaginian cuts the crust.
One's quick, one's kicked the bucket. You can trust
Me in the matter of the latter's sad reverses
Because I had the info straight from the hearse's (70)
Mouthpiece, the very fellow who undertook
To take him under. Well, a little tyke,
The only son of the aforementioned stiff,
Was snitched from his dad and palatial pad, and if
He was seven then, he was thirteen when his father
Pitiably passed-I do hope it doesn't bother
You if I say this just once more-away.
See, seeing his son was a goner, the sad dad lay
And languished, bestowed all his lands and lucre on
The cousin, and hopped the boat for Acheron, (80)
Without a cent, or a stitch or a knicker on.
The kidnapper nipped off with the kid he'd nabbed
And hawked his hide in Calydon, to a crabbed
Old moneybags, who was fretting about posterity
But couldn't abide the asininity and asperity
Of women. This old guy paid a pile for the lad,
Never knowing a former crony was his dad;
And he made him his son and, what's more, made him his heir,
And kindly died. And the rich kid now lives there.
Now I'm off again. I've got my itinerary (90)
For Carthage and environs, and I'll be very
Happy to trans any suitable actions you'd like me to,
Com any missions and buzz any nesses you'll...stake me to;
For of course yo must grease my grasp if you want any good of it.
And you'll see what good you've had of it when you're rid of it.
Meanwhile back at the mansion, in Megara Heights,
Old Uncle Hanno was tending the tender lights
Of his doddery years, two nymphets, four and five,
And damned if the daughters didn't get taken alive,
And their governess gratis, nicked by a nasty knave (100)
Who bore 'em to Anactorium and sold 'em
To a second man (on second thought it's seldom
A pimp IS a man) who is the sourest pickle
That ever shackled the anklebone of a fickle
Female. You know what he's like: his best friends call him Jackal.
Then later the pimp cut out for Calydon
To seek a shack to hang his shingle on,
And that place there is his, er, um, salon.
Our hero-remember him?-is strictly besotted
With one of the misses, not guessing they're related (110)
Not knowing her background or ever having a hand on
Her foreground, the pander naturally having planned on
Pitching him up to a desperate tone of vice for her,
Whereupon he can demand a double price for her.
And the little sister too: we've got a role for her:
A certain soldier's just asking to play the fool for her.
But poor old papa-the one still above ground-
Has been dogging the burgled girls the whole world round.
In every new city he hustles to the bawdy house,
He pays his simoleons and he takes his choice, (120)
Then queries the deary about her preprostrate position,
Folks, fatherland, manner of capture and submission,
And generally how she descended tot his condition.
So, in this shrewd and supersubtle way,
He looks for his girls with an utterly private eye.
He's rather a linguist, too, but-wouldn't you know it;
Those cagey Carthaginians!-he doesn't show it.
Only last night he came riding a fancy barge in
This harbor, dad of the victimized virgin,
Boss to the nurse and unc to our lovesick mate. (130)
Did you catch that? Are you sure you've got it straight?
If you've got it, swallow it, but please don't bite:
It's a trifle fragile, and we have a right
To finis our Plotus, take our tale to its tail. Oh yes!
I nearly forgot the last little twist to the mess!
Old moneybags-the second of the dads that died-
He used to be chummy with uncle. And now, inside
An hour or two, the latter will get back his stacked
Siblings and his nifty nephew. That's a fact.
Excuse me now. I must wrap me up in my trapping. (140)
Try to receive us with rather more clapping than napping,
Eschewing the chewing, the griping, the gabbing, and so on.
Here's the gist of it just once more, for something to go on:
A Carthaginian Gent will now arrive
To bring his girls and his nephew back alive.
Bye-bye. Keep listening. I'm going, I'm practically scarce.
I've got to go alter my ego-and face-for the farce.
As for the rest, the rest are just restless to play for you.
If you think them divine, they'll be only too happy to pray for you.
