I am weak, lazy; and, if you have a mind to add any thing else, I am a sot.  But seeing you are as I am, and perhaps something worse, why do you willfully call me to an account as if you were the better man; and, with specious phrases, disguise your own vice?  What, if you are found out to be a greater fool than me, who was purchased for five hundred drachmas?  Forbear to terrify me with your looks; restrain your hand and your anger, while I relate to you what Crispinus’ porter taught me.

“Another man’s wife captivates you; a harlot, Davus:  which of us sins more deservingly of the cross?  When keen nature inflames me, any common wench that picks me up, dismisses me neither dishonored, nor caring whether a richer or a handsomer man enjoys her next.  You, when you have cast off your ensigns of dignity, your equestrian ring and your Roman habit, turn out from a magistrate a wretched Dama, hiding with a cape your perfumed head:  are you not really what you personate?  You are introduced, apprehensive [of consequences]; and, as you are altercating With your passions, your bones shake with fear.  What is the difference whether you go condemned [like a gladiator], to be galled with scourges, or slain with the sword; or be closed up in a filthy chest, where [the maid], concious of her mistress’ crime, has stowed you?  Has not the husband of the offending dame a just power over both; against the seducer even a juster?  But she neither changes her dress, nor place, nor sins to that excess [which you do]; since the woman is in dread of you, nor gives any credit to you, though you profess to love her.  You must go under the yoke knowingly, and put all your fortune, your life, and reputation, together with your limbs, into the power of an enraged husband.  Have you escaped?  I suppose, then, you will be afraid [for the future]; and, being warned, will be cautious.  No, you will seek occasion when you may be again in terror, and again may be likely to perish.  O so often a slave!  What beast, when it has once escaped by breaking its toils, absurdly trusts itself to them again?  You say, “I am no adulterer.”  Nor, by Hercules, am I a thief, when I wisely pass by the silver vases.  Take away the danger, and vagrant nature will spring forth, when restraints are removed.  Are you my superior, subjected as you are, to the dominion of so many things and persons, whom the praetor’s rod, though placed on your head three or four times over, can never free from this wretched solicitude?  Add, to what has been said above, a thing of no less weight; whether he be an underling, who obeys the master-slave (as it is your custom to affirm), or only a fellow-slave, what am I in respect of you?  You, for example, who have the command of me, are in subjection to other things, and are led about, like a puppet movable by means of wires not its own.