THE COMEDIES OF PLAUTUS. I.—THE THREE SILVER PIECES. The plot of this little comedy, which is confessedly borrowed from the Greek of, and is called in the original with perhaps more propriety 'The Buried Treasure,' is simple enough. Charmides, a rich citizen of Athens, has been half ruined by an extravagant son. Naruto shippuden 166 sub indo dub.
Study Introduction To Greek And Roman Literature - Dates And Terms Flashcards at ProProfs - Key Dates and Terms from college lectures on Ancient Greek and Roman Literature. Lar Familiaris (God of household) he's the one that knew about the pot of gold buried in the garden. Didn't want to give the inheritance to the main character Euclio.
He goes abroad, leaving this son and a daughter in charge of his old friend Callicles, begging him to do what he can to keep young Lesbonicus from squandering the little that is left of the family property. At the same time, he intrusts his friend with a secret. He has buried under his house a treasure—three thousand gold Philips. This, even if things come to the worst, will serve to provide a marriage portion for his daughter, in the event of his not living to return to Athens. Callicles has striven in vain to persuade the young man to mend his ways; Lesbonicus has gone on in the same course of extravagance, until he has nothing left but a small farm outside the city, and the house in which he lives—and where the treasure is buried. This house at last he offers for sale: and Callicles is only just in time to buy it in for himself, and so to preserve for his absent friend the precious deposit.
The action of the piece is introduced by a short allegorical 'Prologue,' in which Luxury introduces her daughter Poverty into the house of the prodigal, and bids her take possession: a very direct mode of enforcing its moral upon the audience. This moral, however, is by no means carried out with the same distinctness in the catastrophe. So much of the story is told at the opening of the play by Callicles to a friend, who seems to have called purposely to tell him some disagreeable truths—as is the recognised duty of a friend. People are talking unpleasantly about his conduct: they say that he has been winking at the young man's extravagance, and has now made a good thing of it by buying at a low price the house which he is obliged to sell.
Callicles listens with some annoyance, but at first with an obstinate philosophy. Can he do nothing, his friend asks, to put a stop to these evil rumours? I can,—and I can not; 'tis even so; As to their saying it,—that I cannot help; I can take care they have no cause to say it. But, on his old friend pressing him, he yields so far as to intrust him with the whole secret.
A suitor now appears for the hand of the young daughter of the absent Charmides. It is Lysiteles, a young man of great wealth and noble character, the darling of an indulgent father, who consents, though with some natural unwillingness, not only to accept her as a daughter-in-law without a portion, but even to go in person and request the consent of her brother Lesbonicus, who is known to be as proud as he is now poor, and who is very likely to make his own poverty an objection to his sister's marrying into a rich family, though the lover is his personal friend. The father has an interview with him, but can only obtain his consent to such a marriage on condition that his friend will accept with her such dowry as he can give—the single farm which he has retained in his own possession out of all the family estate, and from which his faithful slave Stasimus—the classical prototype of Caleb Balderstone—is contriving to extract a living for his young master and himself.
This honest fellow is present during part of the interview, and is horrified to hear the prodigal generosity with which the ruined heir insists, in spite of all the other's attempts to decline it, upon dowering his sister with the last remains of his estate. At last he draws Philto—the suitor's father—aside on some pretence, and the following dialogue ensues:—. I have a secret for your ear, sir—only you; Don't let him know I told you. You may trust me. By all that's good in heaven and earth, I warn you, Don't take that land—don't let your son set foot on it— I'll tell you why.
Well,—I should like to hear. Well, to begin with—( confidentially) the oxen, when we plough it, Invariably drop down dead in the fifth furrow. ( getting more emphatic). People say there's devils in it!
The grapes turn rotten there before they're ripe. Lesbonicus ( watching their conversation, and speaking to himself). He's humbugging our friend there, I'll be bound! 'Tis a good rascal, though—he's stanch to me. Listen again—in the very best harvest seasons, You get from it three times less than what you've sown.