SCENE II.--_Enter, from his house, _HEGIO _and a_ SLAVE. HEG. _Now_, give attention you, if you please. Those two captives whom I purchased yesterday of the Quaestors out of the spoil, put upon them chains of light weight [1]; take of those greater ones with which they are bound. Permit them to walk, if they wish, out of doors, _or_ if in-doors, but so that they are watched with the greatest care. A captive at liberty is like a bird that's wild; if opportunity is once given for escaping, 'tis enough; after that, you can never catch him. SLAVE. Doubtless we all are free men more willingly than we live the life of slaves. HEG. You, indeed, don't seem _to think_ so [2]. SLAVE. If I have nothing to give, should you like me to give myself to flight [3]? HEG. If you do so give _yourself_, I shall at once have something to be giving to you. SLAVE. I'll make myself just like the wild bird you were telling of. HEG. 'Tis just as you say; for if you do so, I'll be giving you to the cage [4] But enough of prating; take you care of what I've ordered, and be off. (_The_ SLAVE _goes into the house._) I'll away to my brother's, to my other captives; I'll go see whether they've been making any disturbance last night. From there I shall forthwith betake myself home again. ERG. (_apart_). It grieves me that this unhappy old man is following the trade of a slave-dealer, by reason of the misfortune of his son. But, if by any means he can be brought back here, I could even endure for him to become an executioner. HEG. (_overhearing him_). Who is it that's speaking? ERG. 'Tis I, who am pining at your affliction, growing thin, waxing old, and shockingly wasting away. Wretched man that I am, I'm _but_ skin and bone through leanness; nor does anything ever do me good that I eat at home; even that ever so little which I taste out of doors, the same refreshes me. HEG. Ergasilus, save you! ERG. (_crying_). May the Gods kindly bless you, Hegio! HEG. Don't weep. ERG. Must I not weep for him? Must I not weep for such a young man? HEG. I've always known you to be a friend to my son, and I have understood him _to be so_ to you. ERG. Then at last do we men know our blessings, when we have lost those things which we _once_ had in our power. I, since your son fell into the power of the enemy, knowing by experience of what value he was, now feel his loss. HEG. Since you, who are no relation, bear his misfortune so much amiss, what is it likely that I, a father, should do, whose only _son_ he is? ERG. I, no relation _to him_? He, no relation _to me_? Oh, Hegio! never do say that, nor come to such a belief. To you he is an only _child_, but to me he is even more only than an only one. HEG. I commend you, in that you consider the affliction of your friend your own affliction. Now be of good heart.