The same author mentions a very singular law, which stigmatized with infamy any person who should proclaim the freedom of a slave in the theatre. “Καὶ διαῤῥήδην ἀπαγορεύει μήτε οἰκέτην ἀπελευθεροῦν ἐν τῷ θεάτρῳ————————ἢ ἄτιμον εἶναι τὸν κήρυκα.”—And this law clearly forbids that any person shall manumit a slave in the theatre————-and decrees infamy to the herald who shall proclaim his freedom there.
Slaves were called οἰκέται, and πελάται, but, after they became free, received the appellation of ἀπελεύθεροι, and enjoyed all the privileges granted to the νόθοι, or illegitimate citizens, who were not admitted to all the rights of those whose parents were both freeborn Athenian citizens. It was usual for a freedman to continue with his master, who was called his προστατης, or patron; he was also allowed to choose a sort of guardian, who was called ἐπίτροπος.
[NOTE 63.]
Nor have you given me any cause to repent that I did so.
An emancipated slave was bound to perform certain services for his former master: he was to assist him in any emergency to the utmost of his power: and, if he proved remiss in these duties, was liable to a severe punishment. No freedman could appear in a court of justice against his patron, either to give evidence in his own suit, or in that of another.
[NOTE 64.]
It pains me to be thus reminded of the benefits you have conferred upon me, as it seems to upbraid me with having forgotten them.
By the Athenian laws, any freedman convicted of ingratitude to his former master, was reduced a second time to a state of slavery: but, if a freedman was brought to a trial on a charge of this nature, and acquitted of it, he was declared τελέως ἐλεύθερος, perfectly free, and was then wholly released from all obligations of service to his former patron.
[NOTE 65.]
You shall hear every thing from the beginning.
This is the initium narrationis, the first part of the narration, and, by far the longest: it is, in the original, inimitably beautiful. Scarcely any branch of dramatic writing is more difficult than narration, which, unless composed in that happy vein, attainable by so few, generally proves embarrassing to the actor, and tiresome to the auditors. The writings of Terence abound with narrations, a necessary consequence of his strict adherence to the unities. A judicious French writer, whose opinions (as a critic,) have ever been treated with deference, speaking of our author’s excellence in this branch of the drama, makes his eulogium in just and forcible terms.
“Terence is without a rival, especially in his narrations, which flow along with a smooth and even course, like a clear and transparent river. We see no parade of sentiment, no glare of obtrusive wit: no smart epigrammatical sentences, which Nicole and Rochefoucault only can make acceptable. When he applies a maxim, it is in so plain and familiar a manner, that it has all the simplicity of a proverb. He introduces nothing but what appertains to the subject. I have perused, and re-perused the writings of this poet with the greatest attention, and have laid them aside with the impression that there is not a scene too much in any play, nor a line too much in any scene.”
Diderot on dramatic poetry.