Asinaria, or The Ass-Dealer (690-712b)

for the freed-man[*], than for the patron, to be carrying a burden in the street.

My Libanus, golden apple of my eye, the gift and the very grace of love; there’s a dear, whatever you wish, I’ll do; prithee, do give us that money.

Call me, then, your little duck, dove, or your puppet; your swallow, jackdaw, little sparrow, your mannikin:

make of me the reptile that crawls, so that I may have a double tongue[*]; enfold me in your arms, and embrace my neck.

She, embrace you, villain?

Really, how undeserving I do seem. You shan’t for no purpose have uttered a speech so unseemly against me. By my troth, if indeed you expect to get this money, this day you shall carry myself on your shoulders.

What? I, carry you?

Otherwise, you shan’t get this money from me.

Heavens, I’m undone! Still, if indeed it is decorous for the master to carry the servant, mount.

In this way are proud people wont to be tamed. Stand still then, just as you were wont to do when formerly a boy[*]. Do you understand what I say? (He prepares to get upon the shoulders of ARGYRIPPUS.) Aye—so—move on: I praise you much; not any horse is there more clever than yourself as a horse.

Get on, directly.

I’ll do so. (He gets on.) Hallo!—what’s the matter? How are you going? By my troth, I’ll deprive you of your barley then, if you don’t amble[*], lifting up your feet.

Prithee, Libanus, there’s enough now.

Never this day, by my troth, shall you get anything by entreaty. For now up hill with the spur will I push on my steed. After that, I’ll deliver you to the millers, that there you may be tortured as you run[*].

Stand still, that I may now at once get down for the hill, although you are but a bad one.

Well now—since you’ve both made fun of me just as you liked, are you going to give the money?

Why, yes, if, indeed, you erect to me a statue and an altar, and then sacrifice an ox to me here as though to a God; for I am the Divinity Salvation to you.