Pha monologue — The Captivi and the Mostellaria

(_to himself_). Servants who, though they are free from fault, still stand in awe of punishment, those same are wont to be serviceable to their masters. But those who fear nothing, after they have merited punishment, hit upon foolish plans for themselves: they exercise themselves in running; they take to flight. But, if they are caught, they acquire from punishment a hoard, which by good means they cannot. They increase from a very little, _and_ from that they lay by a treasure. The resolution that's in my mind is to be determined to be on my guard against punishment, before my back comes to lose its state of soundness. As hitherto it has been, so does it become my hide _still_ to be, without a bruise, and such that I should decline its being beaten. If I have any control over it, I shall keep it well covered up [1]. When punishment is being showered down on others, don't let it be showered down on me. But as servants wish their master to be, such is he wont to be. He is good to the good, bad to the bad. But now at our house at home there do live so many rogues, lavish of their property [2], bearers of stripes. When they are called to go fetch their master, "I shan't go; don't be plaguing _me_; I know where you are hurrying off to," _is the reply_. "Now, faith, you mule, you're longing to go to pasturage out of doors [3]." With better deserts, this advantage have I reaped from them, _and_, in consequence, I have come from home. I alone, out of _so_ many servants, am going to fetch my master. When, to-morrow, my master comes to know this, in the morning he will chastise them with bull's-hide spoils. In fine, I care less for their backs than for my own. Much rather shall they be bull's-hide-scourged than I be rope-scourged [4]. (_Moves on._)