University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Enter PENICULUS, the Parasite.
Our young men call me dishclout, for this reason,
Whene'er I eat, I wipe the tables clean.
Now in my judgment they act foolishly,
Who bind in chains their captives, and clap fetters
Upon their run-away slaves: for if you heap
Evil on evil to torment the wretch,
The stronger his desire is to escape.—
They'll free them from their chains by any means:
Load them with gyves, they file away the door,
Or knock the bolt out with a stone.—'Tis vain this:
But would you keep a man from 'scaping from you,
Be sure you chain him fast with meat and drink
And tye him by the beak to a full table.
Give him his fill, allow him meat and drink
At pleasure, in abundance, every day;
And I'll be sworn, although his crime be capital,
He will not run away: you'll easily
Secure him, while you bind him with these bonds.
They're wondrous supple these same belly-bonds,
The more you stretch them, they will bind the harder.
For instance, I'm now going to Menæchmus,
Most willingly I'm going to be bound,
According to his sentence past upon me.
Good soul! he's not content with giving us
A bare support and meagre sustenance,
But crams us even to satiety;
Gives us, as 'twere, new life, when dead with hunger.
O he's a rare physician: he's a youth
Of lordly appetite; he treats most daintily,
His table's bravely served; such heaps of dishes,
You must stand on your couch to reach the top.
Yet I've some days been absent from his house;
Homely I've liv'd at home with my dear friends,
For all I eat or buy is dear to me,
Yet they desert the very friends that rais'd them.
Now will I visit him: but the door opens:
And see! Menæchmus' self is coming forth.