GRU. Indeed, you town wit, you minion of the mob, do you throw the country in my teeth? Really, Tranio, I do believe that you feel sure that before long you'll be handed over to the mill. Within a short period, i' faith, Tranio, you'll full soon be adding to the iron-bound race [2] in the country. While you choose to, and have the opportunity, drink on, squander his property, corrupt my master's son, a most worthy young man, drink night and day, live like Greeks [3], make purchase of mistresses, give them their freedom, feed parasites, feast yourselves sumptuously. Was it thus that the old gentleman enjoined you when he went hence abroad? Is it after this fashion that he will find his property well husbanded? Do you suppose that this is the duty of a good servant, to be ruining both the estate and the son of his master? For I do consider him as ruined, when he devotes himself to these goings on. _A person_, with whom not one of all the young men of Attica was before deemed equally frugal or more steady, the same is now carrying off the palm in the opposite direction. Through your management and your tutoring has that been done. TRA. What the plague business have you with me or with, what I do? Prithee, haven't you got _your_ cattle in the country for you to look to? I choose to drink, to intrigue, to keep my wenches; this I do at the peril of my own back, _and_ not of yours. GRU. Then with what assurance he does talk! (_Turning away in disgust._) Faugh! TRA. But may Jupiter and all the Deities confound you; you stink of garlick, you filth unmistakeable, you clod, you he-goat, you pig-sty, you mixture of dog and she-goat. GRU. What would you have to be done? It isn't all that can smell of foreign perfumes, if you smell of them; or that can take their places at table above their master, or live on such exquisite dainties as you live upon. Do you keep to yourself those turtle-doves, _that_ fish, _and_ poultry; let me enjoy my lot upon garlick diet. You are fortunate; I unlucky. It must be endured. Let my good fortune be awaiting me, your bad yourself. TRA. You seem, Grumio, as though you envied me, because I enjoy myself and you are wretched. It is quite my due. It's proper for me to make love, and for you to feed the cattle; for me to fare handsomely, you in a miserable way. GRU. O riddle for the executioner [4], as I guess it will turn out; they'll be so pinking you with goads, as you carry your gibbet [5] along the streets one day, as soon as ever the old gentleman returns here. TERA. How do you know whether that mayn't happen to yourself sooner than to me? GRU. Because I have never deserved it; you have deserved it, and you now deserve it. TRA. Do cut short the trouble of your talking, unless you wish a heavy mischance to befall you.