Asinaria, or The Ass-Dealer (95-155)

Unless you have first cheated your wife out of something.

Impose upon or rob myself in any way you can, my wife in any way, my servant Saurea in any way. I promise you that it shall not prove to your detriment, if you effect it to-day.

On the same principle you might bid me to fish in the air,

and to hunt with a javelin in the midst of the sea.

Take Leonida as your coadjutor[*]; devise some plan or other, think of some expedient: bring it about that my son this day gets some money to give his mistress.

What say you, Demaenetus ⋯

if the foe should intercept me, will you ransom me?

I will ransom you.

Then do you attend to something else, whatever you please.

I’m off to the Forum, unless you wish for anything.

Be off—why are you not walking[*]?

And do you hear, too—?

Well now.

If I want you for anything, where will you be?

Wherever it shall be agreable to my feelings. Really, there’s not a person that I shall stand in dread of from this time forward, for fear he might be able to do me an injury, since in your discourse you have disclosed to me all your sentiments. Why, your own self even I don’t stand much in awe of, if I carry this out. I’ll go where I intended, and there I’ll commune upon my plans.

Do you hear me? I shall be with Archibulus, the banker.

In the Forum, you mean?

There, if there shall be any occasion for me[*].

I’ll remember it.

Not any servant can there be more artful than this fellow, nor yet more crafty, nor one that it is more difficult for you to be on your guard against.

If you want anything well managed, entrust it to this same fellow; he’d rather he should die in wretchedness, than not have that quite completed which he has promised. For I know that this money is as surely forthcoming for my son, as that I look upon this same walking-stick.

But why am I delaying to go to the Forum where I had intended ⋯

Is’t thus it is,—me to be shut out of doors? Is this the reward that’s given to me who deserve so highly of you? To him who deserves well you are unkind, to him who deserves ill you are indulgent.

But to your own misfortune, for now from this spot will I go to the Triumvirs[*], and there I’ll take care your names shall be. I’ll punish capitally yourself and your daughter, you enticers, pests, and destruction of young men! For, compared with you, the sea is not the sea; you are a most dangerous sea.

For on the sea did I find it, here have I been cleaned out of my wealth. What I have given, and what kindnesses I have done, I find them all valueless for good, and thrown away. But from hence-forth, whatever harm I shall be able to do you, I will do it, and do it at your deserts. I’ faith, I’ll reduce you to the verge of poverty, that state from which you have risen.

By my troth, I’ll make you to know what you now are, and what you once were; what you were before I visited that daughter of yours, and, in my passion, bestowed upon her my affection; on coarse bread[*] you were enjoying your life, in rags, and in want. And if these you had, especial thanks did you return to all the Divinities. Now, bad woman, you the same person, when ’tis better with you, don’t know me through whose means it is so.

From a wild beast, I’ll make you tame through hunger, only trust me for that[*]. But I have no reason to blame your daughter herself; she does not deserve it in the least. She acts by your command; she obeys your bidding; you are her mother, you too her mistress. I’ll revenge myself on you; I’ll ruin you; as you are deserving, and as you merit at my hands. But look now, the hag, how she really doesn’t think me worthy

for her to come to and address and deprecate my resentment. But, see, the enticer’s coming out at last, I think. Here. before the door, I’ll address her in my own fashion, as I please, since I’m not allowed to do so within.

If any purchaser should come, he could not carry him away from me each single word of those for gold Philippean pieces.

What you say wrongfully against us is good gold and silver. Your heart is locked up here with us, at the helm of Cupid. With oars and with sails make haste and fly as fast as you can; the further you betake yourself to sea, the more the tide will bring you back to harbour.