Pseudolus, or The Cheat (1101-1144b)

But who’s this fellow in the scarf?

I don’t know, i’ faith; however, let’s observe whither he’s going, and what business he’s upon.

That slave’s a base and worthless fellow, who values his master’s commands at nought; and he, too, is good for nothing who is forgetful to do his duty unless he’s put in mind.

But those who forthwith deem themselves to be at liberty, when they have hidden themselves from the sight of their master, who riot, wench, devour what they have,—aye, what they have not,—long do those same endure the name of servitude. Nor is there any good disposition in them,

except only that they may uphold themselves by their dishonest contrivances. With these, neither their company nor their conversation suits me, nor by these persons have I been ever known. Although he is away, I consider my master as being here; I fear him

when he isn’t here, that I may not have to fear him when he is here. Therefore, as I have been ordered, to this business will I give my attention. But that Syrus, to whom I gave the token, would have been letting me stay even yet in the shop. As he bade me, I stayed there; he said that he would send for me when the procurer was at home. But since he hasn’t come, or called me while staying there,

I’m come hither of my own accord, that I may know what is the fact, that that fellow mayn’t be playing tricks with me. And there is nothing better than that I should knock at this door, and call some out here from indoors. I want this procurer to take this money of me, and to send off this woman with me.

Hark you!

What do you want?

This fellow’s my own.

How so?

Because that booty’s mine.

He’s in search of a mistress he has got money. I already long to fix my teeth in him.

Are you going to devour him already?

While he’s fresh, while he’s in the habit of giving away, while he’s warm upon it, ’tis proper for him to be gobbled up. The good men keep me poor, the bad ones support me; the virtuous are a benefit to the public, the debauched to myself.

A mischief may the Gods send you; such a villain are you.

Venus bestows upon me these blessings, when she drives hither these haters of money, these who quite long for losses, who carefully pamper themselves and their youthful age, eat, drink, and wench. Of quite different dispositions are they and you.

I’m now delaying myself, in not knocking at this door, that I may know whether or no Ballio is at home now.

(Calls out, going up to the door.) Hallo! where are you? Hallo! where are you?

Why, he’s going straight up towards my house.

I shall come off finely loaded with plunder from this fellow; I know it’s a lucky omen for me.

Does any one come to open this door?

Hallo! you in the scarf, what’s owing you at that house?

I’m enquiring for Ballio, the procurer, the master of the house.

Whoever you are, young man, make short work of your enquiries.

Why so?

Because he himself in person sees you in his presence before him.

What, are you he?

You in the scarf, take you care, please, of some crooked misfortune, and point your finger [*] at him; this fellow is a procurer.

And this is an honest man.