In Rome there was once a poor slave whose name was An'dro-clus.

But Arria divined the secret of the poor slave-girl, and pitied her.

Better even the poor slave returned to bondage than the wretched Commissioner.

I am but a poor slave, but I can tell you this-

Epictetus was a poor slave, and yet how much we owe him!

They expected to see the poor slave torn to pieces in a moment.

Personal abuse and hard usage, were the common lot of poor slave girls.

The cause of the poor slave woman was greatly strengthened by this failure.

Such a hope seldom animates the heart of the poor slave.

The poor slave of the house comes to her for comfort.

I really believe that he is jealous of the poor slave.

He then took the leather and lashed the poor slave's back.

Each poor slave was busy with his thoughts and his prayers.

The poor slave uttered, not a sigh now, but a groan.

Fancy being capable of so much less toil than a poor slave boy!

She acts like Cleopatra snapping her fingers at a poor slave.