Captivi: The Captives (470-495)

so much in these days do the young men drive away from them the needy drolls. They care nothing now-a-days for these Laconian men[*] of the lowest benches—these whipping-posts, who have their clever sayings without provision and without money. They now-a-days seek those who, when they’ve eaten at their pleasure, may give them a return at their own houses. They go themselves to market, which formerly was the province of the Parasites.

They go themselves from the Forum to the procurers with face as exposed[*] as the magistrates in court[*], with face exposed, condemn those who are found guilty; nor do they now value buffoons at one farthing[*]; all are so much in love with themselves. For, when, just now, I went away from here, I came to some young men in the Forum: Good morrow, said I; whither are we going together to breakfast? On this, they were silent.

Who says, ‘here, at my house,’ or who makes an offer? said I. Just like dumb men, they were silent, and didn’t smile at me. Where do we dine? said I. On this they declined. I said one funny saying out of my best bon mots, by which I formerly used to get feasting for a month; not an individual smiled; at once I knew that the matter was arranged by concert.

Not even one was willing to imitate a dog when provoked; if they didn’t laugh, they might, at least, have grinned with their teeth[*]. From them I went away, after I saw that I was thus made sport of. I went to some others; then to some others I came; then to some others—the same the result. All treat the matter in confederacy, just like the oil-merchants in the Velabrum[*].

Now, I’ve returned thence, since I see myself made sport of there. In like manner do other Parasites walk to and fro, to no purpose, in the Forum. Now, after the foreign fashion[*], I’m determined to enforce all my rights. Those who have entered into a confederacy, by which to deprive us of food and life,—for them I’ll name a day. I’ll demand, as the damages, that they shall give me ten dinners

at my own option, when provisions are dear: thus will I do. Now I’ll go hence to the harbour. There, is my only hope of a dinner; if that shall fail me, I’ll return here to the old gentleman, to his unsavoury dinner.