Poenulus, or The Young Carthaginian (353c-391)

Why is she angry with you? Why should I trouble myself about that? For that is rather your own concern.

On my word, it’s all over with you this very instant, if you don’t make her as smooth for me as the sea is at the time when the halcyon[*] is rearing her young ones there.

What am I to do?

Entreat her, soothe, and flatter her.

I’ll do so with all diligence; but see, please, that you don’t afterwards be giving this ambassador of yours a dressing with your fists.

I’ll not do so.

Let’s now begone. (AGORASTOCLES stands before her.) Do you detain me still? You act badly;

you make me many fair promises[*]; of those many, the whole come to nothing at all. Not once, but a hundred times, have you sworn to give me my freedom. While depending on you, I have neither anywhere procured any other resources for myself, nor is this assistance of yours at all visible. And thus none the less am I still a slave. Move on, sister. (To AGORASTOCLES.) Get you gone from me!

Utterly undone! Come now, Milphio, what are you about?

My joy, my delight, my life, my pleasure, apple of my eye, my little lip, my health, my sweet kiss, my honey, my heart, my biestings, my cream-cheese—

Am I to allow these things to be said in my presence? I’m quite distracted, wretch that I am, if I don’t order him at full speed to be hurried off to the executioner in a chariot and four!

Prithee, for my sake, don’t be angry with my master. I’ll make—

Let me alone.

You are too cross. He’ll pay the money for you, and make you a citizen of Attica[*], and a free woman.

But why don’t you let me go away? What is it you want? Just as he wishes me well, in like manner do you wish me well.

If, indeed, he has deceived you before, from this time forward he shall be truthful to you.

Get you gone hence, will you, you trepanner.

I’ll obey you. But on what terms—do you understand?

Do let me prevail upon you; do let me take you by those little ears[*]; do let me give you a kiss.

By my troth, I shall now set him a weeping, if I don’t make you kind; and (unless I do make you kind he certainly will do it) I’m dreadfully afraid lest he should beat me. I know the harsh manners of this crabbed man.

Wherefore, my delight, pray do let me prevail upon you.

I’m not a man worth threepence[*], if I don’t tear out the eyes and teeth of that whip-scoundrel. (He beats MILPHIO.) There’s your delight for you! There’s your honey! There’s your heart! There are your biestings[*]! There’s your health! There’s your sweet kiss!

Master, you are rendering yourself guilty of impiety! You are beating an ambassador.

More than that even still.

(Beating him again.) I shall now add the apple of the eye, the little lip too, and the tongue.

When will you be making an end?

Was it in that fashion I requested you to plead for me?

How then was I to plead?

Do you ask me that? Why thus you should have said, you scoundrel: his delight, I do entreat of you, his honey, his heart, his little lip, his tongue, his sweet kiss, his biestings, his sweet cream-cheese, you whip-scoundrel.

All these things which you spoke of as yours, you should have mentioned as mine.