Captivi: The Captives (287-350)

Troth, not so, but rather by reason of his avarice and grasping disposition; for, indeed, he was Theodoromedes originally by name.

How say you? Is his father covetous?

Aye, by my faith, he is covetous.

Why, that you may even understand it the better,—when he’s sacrificing at any time to his own Genius[*], the vessels that are needed for the sacrifice he uses of Samian ware, lest the Genius himself should steal them; from this, consider how much he would trust other people.

Do you then follow me this way. (Aside.) The things that I desire to know, I’ll enquire of him. (Addressing TYNDARUS.) Philocrates, this person has done as it becomes an honest man to do.

For from him I’ve learnt of what family you are sprung; he has confessed it to me. If you are willing to own these same things (which, however, understand that I already know from him), you will be doing it for your own advantage.

He did his duty when he confessed the truth to you, although, Hegio, I wished carefully to conceal both my rank and my wealth;

now, inasmuch as I’ve lost my country and my liberty, I don’t think it right for him to be dreading me rather than you. The might of warfare has made my fortunes on a level with himself. I remember the time when he didn’t dare to do it in word; now, in deed, he is at liberty to offend me. But don’t you see? Human fortune moulds and fashions just as she wills.

Myself, who was a free man she has made a slave, from the very highest the very lowest. I, who was accustomed to command, now obey the mandates of another. And indeed, if I meet with a master just such as I proved the ruler in my own household, I shall not fear that he will rule me harshly or severely. With this, Hegio, I wished you to be acquainted, unless perchance you your self wish it not.

Speak boldly out.

As free a man was I till lately as your son. As much did a hostile hand deprive me of my liberty as him of his. As much is he a slave among my people, as I am now a slave here with yourself. There is undoubtedly a God, who both hears and sees the things which we do. Just as you shall treat me here, in the same degree will he have a care for him.

To the well-deserving will he show favour, to the ill-deserving will he give a like return. As much as you lament your son, so much does my father lament me.

That I am aware of. But do you admit the same that lie has disclosed to me?

I confess that my father has very great wealth at home, and that I am born of a very noble family; but I entreat you, Hegio,

let not my riches make your mind too prone to avarice, lest it should seem to my father, although I am his only son, more suitable that I should be a slave in your house, bountifully supplied at your expense and with your clothing, rather than be living the life of a beggar where ‘twould be far from honorable.

By the favour of the Gods and of my forefathers, I am rich enough.

I don’t quite believe that every kind of gain is serviceable to mankind. I know that gain has already made many a man famous; and yet there are occasions when it is undoubtedly better to incur loss than to make gain. Gold I detest: many a one has it persuaded to many an evil course. Now give your attention to this, that you may know as well what my wishes are.

My son, taken prisoner. is in servitude at Elis there among your people; if you restore him to me, don’t you give me a single coin besides; both you and him, your servant, I’ll send back from here; on no other terms can you depart hence.

You ask what’s very right and very just, and you are the very kindest person of all mankind. But whether is he in servitude to a private person or to the public[*]?

In private servitude to Menarchus, a physician.

By my faith, that person’s surely his father’s dependant. Why really, that’s down as pat for you, as the shower is when it rains.

Do you then cause this person, my son, to be redeemed.

I’ll do so: but this I beg of you, Hegio—

Whatever you wish, so that you request nothing against my interest, I’ll do.

Listen then, and you’ll know. I don’t ask for myself to be released, until he has returned.

But I beg of you to give me him (pointing to PHILOCRATES) with a price set[*] upon him, that I may send him to my father, that this person, your son, may be redeemed there.

Why no; I’d rather send another person hence, when there shall be a truce, to confer with your father there, and to carry your injunctions which you shall entrust him with, just as you wish.

But it’s of no use to send to him one that he doesn’t know; you’d be losing your labour.

Send this person; he’ll have it all completed, if he gets there. And you cannot send any person to him more faithful, nor one in whom he places more confidence, nor who is more a servant after his own mind; nor, in fact, one to whom he would more readily entrust your son. Have no fears; at my own peril I’ll make proof of his fidelity,

relying upon his disposition; because he is sensible that I’m kindly disposed towards him.