University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter BALLIO, the procurer, and several slaves.
Bal.
Come out, bestir, ye lazy, dear-bought scrubs,
Who ne'er once think of doing what is right.
Of whom, unless after this manner treated,
[beating them.
No good is to be got.—I ne'er saw men
Such asses, so unfeeling are their sides,
Beat them, you hurt yourself—Such dispositions
Have these same whipping-stocks, they'll counsel thus
Each other: Whensoe'er occasion serves,
Take, pilfer, pocket, seize upon, drink, gormandize,
Then run away—This is their trade—
You may as well leave wolves among your sheep,
As these to guard your house—To look, upon them,
You'd think them something; they have no bad aspect;
But when you come to action, they deceive you.
Hear now—Unless you will attend this charge;
Shake sleep from off your eyes, and from your breast
Drive laziness, I'll have your sides well scourg'd
With thongs, till they've as many colours on them
As carpets of Campania: and till
No Alexandrian tapestry, wrought with figures
Of beasts, like them, be equally variegated.
Before I told you, gave you yesterday
Your several tasks—But you're such heedless animals,
And so perverse, you force me thus with stripes
To make you do your duties, as you're order'd,
Such are your stubborn dispositions.
Get then the better of this scourge and me.
Look at them—They're intent on other matters.
Attend to this, and mind now what I say;
Turn your ears to me, do, you race of rascals,
Born for the scourge—You'll find this thong of mine
As tough as any of your backs, I warrant you.
[strikes one of them.
How now?—Do you feel it?—This the slave deserves
Who holds his master's orders in contempt.
Stand all of you before me, and attend
To what I say—You that have got a pitcher,
Bring water, and go fill that kettle there
Directly—You with the ax there, I assign
The task to cleave that wood—

Slave.
But, Sir, the ax
Has lost its edge—

Bal.
Well, be it so—I think
The stripes you've had have taken off your edge—
Yet notwithstanding you shall all be useful—
You, see and clean the house: you have your business.
Go, get you in— [Exit 1 slave.]
You lay the couches smooth.
You, clean the plate, and place it all in order.
Be sure, when from the Forum I return,
That I find all things ready: that I find them,
Brush'd, scour'd, smooth'd, each thing clean, and as it should be.
It is my birth-day: and 'tis fit you all
Should celebrate it—Let the gammon, neck,
The loin, the paps, be soak'd a while in water.
D'ye mind me?—I shall make an entertainment
For men of rank, that they may look upon me
As of a man of property—Go in then,
Get all in readiness; that when the cook
Comes to me, there be no delay— [Exeunt slaves.]
I'll strait
To market, and bespeak there all the fish.
Go you before, boy—I must take great care
That no one cuts my purse—Yet stay—I had
Almost forgot, I'd something more to say
At home—Attend to me, ye women slaves.
I've some commands for you—You then, who spend
Your time with men of figure, in the indulgence
Of neatness, dainties and of delicacy;
You misses of distinction; I shall know
By trial made this day, which of you minds
Her person, which her appetite, and which
Thinks on her business, which on nought but sleeping.
Which of you I shall think of setting free,
And which of parting with by sale to others.
See that you bring home presents in abundance
From your gallants this day.—For, mark,
Unless I raise of you a whole year's provision,
To-morrow I shall let you out for hire.
You know it is my birth-day—Where are now
Your men who love you as they do their eyes?
Who call you life, dear, darling, sweeting, honey?
Here make them come in crowds before my doors
With presents—Why procure I for your use
Money, and cloaths, and all—While I at home,
Get nothing but vexation for my pains.
Jades, ever moistening your clay with wine;
While I'm without a drop—I find 'tis best
To call you o'er by name; lest some of you
Should say they were not told their business—List!
List all then—First Hedylium with you—
Your dealings are among the corn-factors—
Who all heap up mountains of wheat at home.
Be it your care, they bring sufficient hither,
To serve me and my family a year:
And that I may abound so much in corn,
The city may henceforward change my name,
And call the pandar Ballio, royal Jason.

Cal.
[apart.]
Do you hear the rogue? What pompous words he utters?

Pseu.
In troth he does, and mischievous ones too.
But let's be silent, and attend to him.

Bal.
You too, who have your friends among the butchers,
Those apes of us procurers, men who get,
Like us, their money by their perjuries,
You, Æschrodora, hear me—If to-day
You fill not my three larders full of meat,
I'll tye you up to-morrow to the larder,
As heretofore the sons of Jove serv'd Dircè,
And tyed her to a bull, as says the story—
Your bull shall be that larder—

Pseu.
[apart.]
I'm on fire
To hear the fellow's talk—Is't not a shame
The Athenian youth should suffer such a man.
Where are they, say, where skulk the youth who at
Maturity, have dealings with this pandar?
Why not agree, why not combine together
To rid the city of this pestilence.
But I'm a fool, and ignorant of the matter.
Dare they deal so with those, to whom their lust
Makes them submissive; and prevents their acting
Against the rogues, as otherwise they would?

Cal.
Psha! Peace!

Pseu.
Why so?

Cal.
It is not quite so civil
To me, to spend your breath on such a rascal.

Pseu.
Sir, I am dumb—

Cal.
'Tis better so you were,
Than keep thus prating of it.

Bal.
Xystilis,
Do you attend to me—Your lovers deal
In oyl, and have large quantities at home.
If you procure me not some skins of oyl;
I'll put you in an empty skin to-morrow,
And hang you up in't 'gainst the portico—
That skin shall be your bed—A bed, I warrant,
Of little sleep, but languishment enough.
You mark the tendency of what I say—
You viper, you who have so many friends,
Laden with oyl, are any of the heads
Of these your fellow-slaves, say, are they better
Anointed for't? Or shall I have my hash
The better oyl'd for it—But well I know
You are too fond of wine to value oyl.
Assure yourself however, I'll pay off
All your old scores, you jade, if you this day
Perform not what I here enjoin you—Now,
For you, Phœnicium, now I speak to you,
The minion of the great, you who are always
So ready to pay down the money for
Your liberty, yet never keep your word:
Unless good store come from your friends to-day,
To-morrow sees your hide under the pent-house,
Dyed with Phœnician colour, my Phœnicium.

[Exeunt slaves.