Persa, or The Persian (335-376)

For that reason have I dressed you out after this fashion; young woman, to-day you are to be sold.

Prithee, my dear father, although you do eagerly long for victuals at another’s cost, are you for the sake of your appetite going to sell your own daughter?

It is a wonder, indeed, if I don’t sell you, who are my own, for the sake of King Philip or Attalus[*], rather than my own.

Whether do you regard me as your slave or as your daughter?

I’ faith, that of the two which shall appear most for the interest of my stomach; it’s my authority over you, I suppose, not yours over me.

This power is yours, father; but still,

although our circumstances are but very limited, it’s better to pass our lives with frugality and moderation; for if disgrace is added to poverty, poverty will be more unendurable, our character more frail.

Why really you are impertinent.

I am not, nor do I think that I am,

when, though of youthful age, I give good advice to my father. For enemies carry about slander not in the form in which it took its rise.

Let them carry it about, and let them go to utter and extreme perdition. I don’t value all their enmities any more than if an empty table were now set before me.

Father, the scandal of men is everlasting; even then does it survive, when you would suppose it to be dead.

What? Are you afraid lest I should sell you?

I am not afraid of that, father; but I wish you not to pretend to do so.

Then it’s in vain you wish me not; this shall be done rather after my own fashion than yours.

Shall be done![*]

What is the matter, now?

Father, reflect upon these words: if a master has threatened punishment to a slave, although it is not intended to be, still, when the whip is taken up, while he is taking off his tunics, with what an amount of misery is he afflicted. Now, that which is not to be, I’m still in fear of.

Damsel or woman none will there ever be, but what she must be good for nothing, who is too wise to be giving satisfaction to her parents.

Damsel and woman none can there be, but what she must be good for nothing, who holds her peace if she sees anything going on wrong.

’Twere better for you to beware of a mischief.

But if I cannot

beware, what am I to do? For it’s as to yourself I wish to beware.

What, am I a mischief?

You are not, nor is it becoming for me to say so; but for this purpose am I using my endeavours, that others may not say so who have that liberty.

Let each one say what he pleases; from this purpose I shall not be moved.

But, could it be after my own way,

you would be acting prudently, rather than foolishly.

It is my pleasure.

I know that I must let it be your pleasure so far as I’m concerned; but it should not please you to be your pleasure, if I had my way.