en it was represented for the
first time, an unusual disaster and calamity[15] interrupted it, so
that it could not be witnessed {throughout} or estimated; so much had
the populace, carried away with admiration, devoted their attention to
some rope-dancing. It is now offered as though entirely a new Play;
and he who wrote it did not wish to bring it forward {then} a second
time, on purpose that he might be able again to sell it.[16] Other
{Plays} of his[17] you have seen represented; I beg you now to give
your attention to this.

THE SECOND PROLOGUE.[18]

I come to you as an envoy from the Poet, in the character of
prologue-speaker; allow me to be a successful pleader, that in my old
age I may enjoy the same privilege that I enjoyed when a, younger man,
when I caused new Plays, that had been {once} rejected, to come into
favor; so that his writings might not die with the Poet. Among them,
as to those of Caecilius,[19] which I first studied when new; in some
of which I was rejected; in some I kept my ground with difficulty. As
I knew that the fortune of the stage was varying, where the hopes were
uncertain, I submitted to certain toil. Those I zealously attempted to
perform, that from the same {writer} I might learn new ones, {and} not
discourage him from his pursuits. I caused them to be represented.
When seen, they pleased. Thus did I restore the Poet to his place, who
was now almost weaned, through the malevolence of his adversaries,
from his pursuits and labors, and from the dramatic art. But if I had
at that period slighted the writer, and had wished to use my endeavors
in discouraging him, so that he might live a life of idleness rather
than of study, I might have easily discouraged him from writing
others. Now, for my sake, hear with unbiased minds what it is I ask.
I again bring before you the Hecyra, which I have never been allowed
to act {before you} in silence; such misfortunes have so overwhelmed
it. These misfortunes your intelligence will allay, if it is a
seconder of our exertions. The first time, when I began to act this
{Play}, the vauntings of boxers,[20] the expectation of a
rope-dancer,[21] added to which, the throng of followers, the noise,
the clamor of the women, caused me to retire from your presence before
the time. In this new Play, I attempted to follow the old custom {of
mine},[22] of making a fresh trial; I brought it on again. In the
first Act I pleased; when in the mean time a rum