plagae supersunt, desunt mihi cibaria, subinde ad villani mittor sine viatico, domi si cenat, totis persto noctibus; sive est vocatus, iaceo ad lucerti in semita, emerui libertatem, canus servio.
I get a surplus of blows and a shortage of rations. Every now and then I am sent out to my masters farm without any provisions for the journey. Whenever he dines at home I stand by in attendance all night long; if he is invited out I lie in the street until daybreak. I have earned my liberty, but I am still a slave though gray-headed.
final_alignments\Phaedrus_Fables_Book5.json