Aulularia, or The Concealed Treasure (832c-832e)

Who's calling us? Ha! Lyconides!

Ha! Strobilus, what is the matter? Say.

'Tis a short matter.

What is it?

I'm calling you as witnesses. If I bring here a four pound pot full of gold and give it up to Lyconides, Lyconides makes me a free man, and orders me to be my own master. To LYCONIDES. Do you not promise me so?

I do promise so.

Have you heard now what he has said?

We have heard.

Swear, then, by Jupiter.

Alas! to what I am reduced by the misfortunes of others! You are too insulting; still, I'll do what he bids me.

Hark you, our generation hasn't much confidence in people: the documents are signed; the twelve witnesses are present; the registrar writes down the time and the place; and still, the pleader is found to deny that it has been done.

But release me speedily, please.

Here, take this stone. Giving him a stone.

If I knowingly deceive you, so may Jupiter reject from me his blessings, the city and citadel safe, as I do this stone. (He throws it. Have I now satisfied you?

I am satisfied; and I'm going to bring the gold.

Go with the speed of Pegasus, and return devouring the road with your rapid steps. Exit STROBILUS. Any impertinent slave, that wishes to be more wise than his master, is a nuisance to a decent man. Let this Strobilus be off as a free man to utter perdition, if he only brings me the pot full of pure gold, so that I may restore Euclio, my father-in-law, from his grief to joy, and obtain the favour of his daughter, who is just brought to bed by reason of my debauching her. But see! Strobilus is returning, loaded; as I guess, he's bringing the pot; and, for sure, it is the pot that he's carrying.

Lyconides, I bring you my findings that I promised—the four pound pot of gold; have I been long?

Why, yes. He takes some of the gold out of the pot. O immortal Gods, what do I behold? Or what is it I hold? More than six hundred Philippean pieces, three or four times over. But let's call out Euclio forthwith.

going to the door of EUCLIO'S house. Ho, Eucho, Euclio!

Euclio, Euclio!

opening his window. What' the matter?

Come down to us, for the Gods will you to be saved; we've got the pot.

Have you got it, or are you trifling with me?

We've got it, I say. Now, if you can, fly down hither.

having come out of the house to them. O great Jupiter! O household Divinity and Queen Juno! and Alcides, my treasurer! that at length you do show pity upon a wretched old man. Taking the pot in his arms. O my pot! O how aged I, your friend, do clasp you with joyful arms, and receive you with kisses; with a thousand embraces even I cannot be satisfied. O my hope! my heart! that dissipates my grief.

aside, to MEGADORUS. I always thought that to be in want of gold was the worst thing for both boys and men, and all old people. Indigence compels boys to be guilty of misdeeds, men to thieve, and old men themselves to become beggars. But 'tis much worse, as I now see, to abound in gold beyond what's necessary for us. Alas! what miseries has Euclio endured on account of the pot, that a little while since was lost by him!

To whom shall I give deserved thanks? Whether to the Gods, who show regard for good men, or to my friends, upright men, or to them both? Rather to both, I think; and first to you, Lyconides, the origin and author of so great a good; you do I present with this pot of gold; accept it with pleasure. I wish it to be your own, and my daughter as well, in the presence of Megadorus, and his good sister, Eunomia.

receiving the pot of gold. The favour is received, and is returned, in thanks, as you deserve, Eucho, a father-in-law most acceptable to me.

I shall think the favour sufficiently returned to me, if you now receive with pleasure my gift, and myself as well for your father-in-law.

I do receive it; and I wish my house to be that of Euclio.

What still remains, master,—remember now that I'm to be free.

You've well put me in mind. Be you a free man, O Strobilus, for your deserts; and now prepare in-doors the dinner that has been so disturbed.

coming forward. Spectators, the avaricious Euclio has changed his nature; he has suddenly become liberal; so, too, do you practise liberality; and if the play has pleased you well, loudly clap your hands.