} Greetings, and salutates omnes. I am your humble servant Orrio, slave
} and general factotum to Senator Ludicrus Sextus of Pompeii... FACtotum,
} I said. Keep a lid on it, you lot. Honestly! Yes, I am Lurcio, and I am
} here to recite the autologue. Let me just get comfortable... Ooh! My
} goodness, that stone's cold! Sends a chill right up the fundamentals.
} Ahh, that's better.
} That's right, it's _that_ Ludicrus Sextus. The one who tried to
} introduce a bill before the Senate outlawing the brothels, under the
} slogan "copulationem expensivus est." As I'm sure you all know. Of
} course, the Senate wouldn't have it. Otherwise they wouldn't have it,
} if you see what I mean.
} Ahem... The Autologue. "And it came to pass in..." What? Excuse me a
} minute, it's the Master's daughter, Erotica. You know her, don't you?
} Well, if you don't, you're the only one in this town who doesn't,
} let me tell you! What is it, Mistress? Have I seen your what? Your
} unmentionables? I most certainly have not, the very idea! Where did
} you lose them? Oh, could be almost anywhere then. Next time, keep
} them about your person. Yes, and you. Ooh, she's terrible, that girl,
} absolutely terrible. But what would poor Orrio know? I don't get it,
} you see. No, not at all, titter ye not. Such is the lot of a poor
} slave... and it's not a lot at that. Though with all this sitting on
} cold stone benches, you'd think I'd get something...
} As I was saying: The Autologue. "And it..." Now what? Yes, good day to
} you too, young Master. It's the Master's son, Nausius. You know, the
} one who... oh, you _do_ know? Well, I wish you'd tell me. Steady on,
} Yes, young Master, it is a beautiful day. The most beautiful day there
} ever was, you say? You're not in love again, are you? How did I guess?
} How many times is it this week? No, that you've fallen in love! Well,
} come on, tell your Uncle Orrio: who's the lucky girl? Promiscua? Yes,
} I think I know her. Isn't she the one with the very well developed...
} credentials? And you've written a poem to express your love? Why yes,
} I'd love to read it. Ahem... "Promiscua, you stole my heart..." Well,
} it starts well. "Promiscua, you stole my heart, I love you all to
} bitties; I love your each and every part, but most of all your..." It
} ends there. Oh, you were stuck for a rhyme, were you? Well, I'm sure
} it will come to you... in a flash of inspiration, so to speak. Just
} think about your sweetheart... that's it, conjure up an image in your
} mind's eye, and see if anything looms large. No? Well, keep it up, and
} eventually you'll get them, I mean _it_, I mean the rhyme. Yes, the
} RHYME! Ooh, you can't say anything in front of this lot.
} Right, are we finished with the interruptions? Good, then on with the
} autologue. Where was I? Oh, yes: The Autologue. "And it came to..." Oh,
} for goodness sake! It's Senna the Soothsayer. She's a few slave girls
} short of an orgy, if you know what I mean. Totum doolallium. Woe, woe,
} woe, yes I know, dear, woe, woe. Don't mock. Oh no, Missus, don't mock
} poor old Senna. She can't help it, poor soul, no. Ever since her
} husband met with that terrible accident. You know, he was stabbed
} through the arras, and... The ARRAS! Yes, never mind what _you_ were
} thinking. Ooh, they're a rough lot tonight, I don't know where they get
} What's that you say, Senna my dear? Flood, famine, fire from the skies,
} all the usual stuff, right. Anything else? The slaves are revolting?
} DO you mind! Go on, be off with you. Of all the nerve! Revolting,
} indeed. Huh!
} The Au-to-logue! "And it..." Alright, that's it, I give up! Yes,
} Plautus the Playwright, I'm trying to do the autologue, but with all
} these continual interruptions... What? The autologue, you know, to
} start the play. Oh, that's a prologue. Well, what's an autologue? A
} word that describes itself. And nothing else? I don't think I know any
} of those. Oh well, I might as well jack it in then. In, IN! Oh, really!
} I wish I hadn't started. And you can stop that and all.