"I am free." Whence do you take this as granted, you that are in subjection to so many things?[1473] Do you recognize no master, save him from whom the prætor's rod sets you free? If he has thundered out, "Go, boy, and carry my strigils to the baths of Crispinus![1474] Do you loiter, lazy scoundrel?" This bitter slavery affects not thee; nor does any thing from without enter which can set thy strings in motion.[1475] But if within, and in thy morbid breast, there spring up masters, how dost thou come forth with less impunity than those whom the lash[1476] and the terror of their master drives to the strigils?
Do you snore lazily in the morning? "Rise!" says Avarice. "Come! rise!" Do you refuse? She is urgent. "Arise!" she says. "I can not." "Rise!" "And what am I to do?" "Do you ask? Import fish[1477] from Pontus, Castoreum,[1478] tow, ebony,[1479] frankincense, purgative Coan wines.[1480]
"Be the first to unload from the thirsty camel[1481] his fresh pepper—turn a penny, swear!"
"But Jupiter will hear!" "Oh fool! If you aim at living on good terms with Jove, you must go on contented to bore your oft-tasted salt-cellar with your finger!"
Now, with girded loins, you fit the skin and wine flagon to your slaves.[1482]—"Quick, to the ship!" Nothing prevents your sweeping over the Ægæan in your big ship, unless cunning luxury should first draw you aside, and hint, "Whither, madman, are you rushing? Whither! what do you want? The manly bile has fermented in your hot breast, which not even a pitcher[1483] of hemlock could quench. Would you bound over the sea? Would you have your dinner on a thwart, seated on a coil of hemp?[1484] while the broad-bottomed jug[1485] exhales the red Veientane[1486] spoiled by the damaged pitch![1487] Why do you covet that the money you had here put out to interest at a modest five per cent., should go on to sweat a greedy eleven per cent.? Indulge your Genius![1488] Let us crop the sweets of life! That you really live is my boon! You will become ashes, a ghost, a gossip's tale! Live, remembering you must die.—The hour flies! This very word I speak is subtracted from it!"
What course, now, do you take? You are torn in different directions by a two-fold hook. Do you follow this master or that? You must needs by turns, with doubtful obedience, submit to one, by turns wander forth free. Nor, even though you may have once resisted, or once refused to obey the stern behest, can you say with truth, "I have burst my bonds!" For the dog too by his struggles breaks through his leash, yet even as he flies a long portion of the chain hangs dragging from his neck.
"Davus![1489] I intend at once—and I order you to believe me too!—to put an end to my past griefs. (So says Chærestratus, biting his nails to the quick.) Shall I continue to be a disgrace to my sober relations? Shall I make shipwreck[1490] of my patrimony, and lose my good name, before these shameless[1491] doors, while drunk, and with my torch extinguished, I sing[1492] before the reeking doors of Chrysis?"
"Well done, my boy, be wise! sacrifice a lamb to the gods who ward off[1493] evil!" "But do you think, Davus, she will weep at being forsaken?" Nonsense! boy, you will be beaten with her red slipper,[1494] for fear you should be inclined to plunge, and gnaw through your close-confining toils,[1495] now fierce and violent. But if she should call you, you would say at once, "What then shall I do?[1496] Shall I not now, when I am invited, and when of her own act she entreats me, go to her?" Had you come away from her heart-whole, you would not, even now. This, this is the man of whom we are in search. It rests not on the wand[1497] which the foolish Lictor brandishes.