Cistellaria, or The Casket (680-696a)

I’m none the wiser for asking these persons, or for worrying them, who are always delighted at a woman’s mishaps. Now I’ll mark if there are any footsteps here; for if no one had passed this way since I went in-doors, the casket would be lying here. Why say here? It’s lost, I guess;

it’s done for. It’s all over with unhappy and unlucky me! It’s nowhere, and nowhere am I. This, by its loss, has proved my loss. But still, as I’ve begun, I’ll e’en go on; I’ll make search; for both within do I fear, and without I am afraid; so much, on either side, does fear agitate me now. In this are mortals intensely wretched.

He is now joyous, whoever he is, that has found it, which is of no use at all to any person else; to myself it may be. But I cause delay to myself, while I’m doing this with remissness. Halisca, attend to what you are about: look down upon the ground, and look round about; search with your eyes; guess with shrewdness.

Mistress!

Well, what’s the matter?

That’s she.

Who?

She who let fall the casket.

Why surely she’s tracing out that spot where it fell.

It seems so.[*]