ACT I

ENTER _Ergasilus_ LOOKING HUNGRY AND FORLORN.

_Erg._

Iuventus nomen indidit Scorto mihi, eo quia invocatus soleo esse in convivio. 70 scio absurde dictum hoc derisores dicere, at ego aio recte. nam scortum in convivio sibi amator, talos quom iacit, scortum invocat.

The young fellows have dubbed me Missy, on the ground that whenever they’re at their banquets I feel called upon to be with ’em. To be sure, the professional wags say it is an absurd nickname, but I protest it’s a good one. For at banquets when the young sparks are playing dice they call upon their missies, yes, their missies, to be with ’em as they make a throw.

estne invocatum an non est? est planissume; verum hercle vero nos parasiti planius, quos numquam quisquam neque vocat neque invocat. quasi mures semper edimus alienum cibum; ubi res prolatae sunt, quom rus homines eunt, simul prolatae res sunt nostris dentibus.

Does missy feel called upon to be with ’em, or not? Most unmistakably. But by heaven, I tell you we parasites feel the call more unmistakably still, for no one else ever feels for us or calls us, either. Like mice, we’re forever nibbling at some one else’s food. When the holidays come, and men hie ’em to their country estates, our grinders take a holiday, too.

quasi, cum caletur, cocleae in occulto latent, 80 suo sibi suco vivont, ros si non cadit, item parasiti rebus prolatis latent in occulto miseri victitant suco suo, dum ruri rurant homines quos ligurriant.

It’s the same as snails hiding in their holes during the dog days and living on their own juices when there’s no dew falling: that’s the way with parasites during the holidays-- hide in their holes, poor devils, and subsist on their own juices while the people they could get pickings from are in the rural regions ruralizing.

prolatis rebus parasiti venatici sumus, quando res redierunt, molossici odiosicique et multum incommodestici. et hic quidem hercle, nisi qui colaphos perpeti potest parasitus frangique aulas in caput, [3]ire extra portam Trigeminam ad saccum licet. 90 quod mihi ne eveniat, non nullum periculum est.

So long as the holidays last we parasites are greyhounds: when they’re over we are wolf-hounds and dear-hounds and bore- hounds, very much so. And, by gad, in this town, at least, if a parasite objects to being banged about and having crockery smashed on his cranium, he can betake himself to the far side of Three Arch Gate and a porter’s bag. (_ruefully_) Which is precious likely to be my own fate.

nam postquam meus rex est potitus hostium-- ita nunc belligerant Aetoli cum Aleis; nam Aetolia haec est, illic est captus in Alide, Philopolemus, huius Hegionis filius senis, qui hie habitat, quae aedes lamentariae mihi sunt, quas quotienscumque conspicio fleo;

For after my patron fell in with the enemy--the Aetolians, you see, are at war now with the Eleans; this is Aetolia, you understand, and it’s there in Elis that Philopolemus is a captive, Philopolemus being the son of Hegio here, the old gentleman that lives in (_pointing_) that house (and a lamentatious house it is! every time I look at it, it makes me weep!)

nunc hic occepit quaestum hunc fili gratia inhonestum et maxime alienum ingenio suo: homines captives commercatur, si queat 100 aliquem invenire, suom qui mutet filium. quod quidem ego nimis quam cupio[4] ut impetret: nam ni illum recipit, nihil est quo me recipiam.

--well, now Hegio has taken up his present business, all for his son’s sake, ungentlemanly business as it is, and quite beneath a man of his type. He’s buying up prisoners of war, to see if he can’t come across one to exchange for his boy. And Lord! how I do yearn for him to succeed! You see, it’s a matter of his coming home, or my going hungry.

nam nulla est spes iuventutis, sese omnis amant; ille demum antiquis est adulescens moribus, cuius numquam voltum tranquillavi gratiis. condigne pater est eius moratus moribus. nunc ad eum pergam. sed aperitur ostium, unde saturitate saepe ego exii ebrius.

For our young fellows are absolutely unpromising--egoists, the whole lot of ’em! But he is a young gentleman of the old school, that lad: I never smoothed the wrinkles out of his brow without getting more than a thankye for it. His father is just such another perfect gentleman. Now for a call on him. (_moves toward Hegio’s house_) But there goes his door, out of which I’ve often come so full of food I was fairly tipsy. (_withdraws_)

I. 2.