s,
Davus, a faithful servant to his master and an honest one, at least
sufficiently so: that is, for you to think his life in no danger. Well
(since our ancestors would have it so), use the freedom of December
speak on.

One part of mankind are fond of their vices with some constancy and
adhere to their purpose: a considerable part fluctuates; one while
embracing the right, another while liable to depravity. Priscus,
frequently observed with three rings, sometimes with his left hand bare,
lived so irregularly that he would change his robe every hour; from a
magnificent edifice, he would on a sudden hide himself in a place,
whence a decent freedman could scarcely come out in a decent manner; one
while he would choose to lead the life of a rake at Rome, another while
that of a teacher at Athens; born under the evil influence of every
Vertumnus. That buffoon, Volanerius, when the deserved gout had crippled
his fingers, maintained [a fellow] that he had hired at a daily price,
who took up the dice and put them into a box for him: yet by how much
more constant was he in his vice, by so much less wretched was he than
the former person, who is now in difficulties by too loose, now by too
tight a rein.

"Will you not tell to-day, you varlet, whither such wretched stuff as
this tends?" "Why, to you, I say." "In what respect to me, scoundrel?"
"You praise the happiness and manners of the ancient [Roman] people; and
yet, if any god were on a sudden to reduce you to to them, you, the same
man, would earnestly beg to be excused; either because you are not
really of opinion that what you bawl about is right; or because you are
irresolute in defending the right, and hesitate, in vain desirous to
extract your foot from the mire. At Rome, you long for the country; when
you are in the country, fickle, you extol the absent city to the skies.
If haply you are invited out nowhere to supper, you praise your quiet
dish of vegetables; and as if you ever go abroad upon compulsion, you
think yourself so happy, and do so hug yourself, that you are obliged to
drink out nowhere. Should Maecenas lay his commands on you to come late,
at the first lighting up of the lamps, as his guest; 'Will nobody bring
the oil with more expedition? Does any body hear?' You stutter with a
mighty bellowing, and storm with rage. Milvius, and the buffoons [who
expected to sup with you], depart, after having uttered curses not
proper to be repeated. Any one may say, f