Surely, lady, to all God has given duties!
Nay when, where, how? Look at me, Euphrosyne. When I was a little child here, we had a neighbor, Lentulus. He was a lie-abed, and a sot. He let his servants do as they liked, make love, quarrel, fight, the one lord it over the other, and all idle, because on none was imposed any duty. It was a villainous household, and the estate went to the hammer. It seems to me, Euphrosyne, as if this whole world were the estate of Lentulus on a large scale, where all the servants squabbled, and one by sheer force tyrannizes over the others, and none know why they are placed there, and what is their masters will, and what they have to do. There is no day-table of work. There is either no master over such a household, or he is an Olympian Lentulus.
But, mistress, is that not impossible?
It would seem so, and yet Where is the Day-Table? Show me that and, by the Gods! it will be new life to me. I shall know my duty and see Happiness.