ere be occasion, trust me, Chremes,
But I could handle you most handsomely.

CHREM. Well, well, we'll think of it, when that time comes.
Now to your present task! (_Exit CHREMES._

[Changes:

_Harper_
SYRUS. This way, or that way, or some way or other!
For money must be had, and th' old man trick'd.
_Colman 1768_
SYRUS. One way, or other, money must be had,
And the old gentleman impos'd upon.

_Harper_
CHREM. What?--have devis'd expedients, contriv'd schemes,
_Colman 1768_
CHREM. What?--have devis'd some scheme, some ways and means

_Harper_
This Clinia, Menedemus' only son,
Would never have elop'd.
SYRUS. I can not tell
Whether he says all this in jest or earnest;
But it gives fresh encouragement to me.
_Colman 1768_
My neighbour Menedemus, well deceiv'd,
Would ne'er have seen his son abandon him.
SYRUS. I don't know whether he's in jest or earnest,
But it gives me encouragement to trick him.

Now to your present task!
_initial "N" invisible in Harper edition_]

SCENE IV.

_SYRUS alone._

I never heard
My master argue more commodiously;
Nor ever had a mind to mischief, when
It might be done with more impunity.
But who's this coming from our house?

[Changes:

_Harper_
Nor ever had a mind to mischief, when
_Colman 1768_
Nor ever was inclin'd to mischief, when]

SCENE V.

_Enter CLITIPHO, and CHREMES following._

CHREM. How now?
What manners are these, Clitipho? does this
Become you?

CLIT. What's the matter?

CHREM. Did not I
This very instant see you put your hand
Into yon wench's bosom?

SYRUS. So! all's over:
I am undone. (_Aside._)

CLIT. Me, Sir?

CHREM. These very eyes
Beheld you: don't deny it.--'Tis base in you
To be so flippant with your hands. For what
Affront's more gross than to receive a friend
Under your roof, and tamper with his mistress?
And, last night in your cups too, how indecent
And rudely you behav'd!

SYRUS. 'Tis very true.

CHREM. So very troublesome, so help me Heav'n,
I fear'd the consequence. I know the ways
Of lovers: they oft take offense at things
You dream not of.

CLIT. But my companion, Sir,
Is confident I would not wrong him.

CHREM. Granted.
Yet you should cease to hang forever on them.
Withdraw, and leave them sometimes to themselves.
Love has a thousand sallies; you restrain them.
I can conjecture from myself. There's none,
How