e, or any other common terms
By which men speak of fools, befit me well:
But him they suit not: his stupidity
Is so transcendent, it exceeds them all.

SCENE II.

_Enter CHREMES._

CHREM. (_to SOSTRATA, within_). Nay prithee, good wife, cease to stun
the Gods
With thanking them that you have found your daughter;
Unless you fancy they are like yourself,
And think they can not understand a thing
Unless said o'er and o'er a hundred times.
--But meanwhile (_coming forward_) wherefore do my son and Syrus
Loiter so long?

MENE. Who are those loiterers, Chremes?

CHREM. Ha, Menedemus, are you there?--Inform me,
Have you told Clinia what I said?

MENE. The whole.

CHREM. And what said he?

MENE. Grew quite transported at it,
Like those who wish for marriage.

CHREM. Ha! ha! ha!

MENE. What do you laugh at?

CHREM. I was thinking of
The cunning rogueries of that slave, Syrus. (_Laughing._)

MENE. Oh, was that it?

CHREM. Why, he can form and mould
The very visages of men, a rogue! (_Laughing._)

MENE. Meaning my son's well-acted transport?

CHREM. Aye. (_Laughing._)

MENE. The very same thing I was thinking of.

CHREM. A subtle villain! (_Laughing._)

MENE. Nay, if you knew more,
You'd be still more convinc'd on't.

CHREM. Say you so?

MENE. Aye; do but hear.

CHREM. (_laughing_). Hold! hold! inform me first
How much you're out of pocket. For as soon
As you inform'd your son of my consent,
Dromo, I warrant, gave you a broad hint
That the bride wanted jewels, clothes, attendants;
That you might pay the money.

MENE. No.

CHREM. How? No?

MENE. No, I say.

CHREM. What! nor Clinia?

MENE. Not a word;
But only press'd the marriage for to-day.

CHREM. Amazing!--But our Syrus? Did not he
Throw in a word or two?

MENE. Not he.

CHREM. How so?

MENE. Faith I can't tell: but I'm amaz'd that you,
Who see so clearly into all the rest,
Should stick at this.--But that arch villain Syrus
Has form'd and moulded your son too so rarely.
That nobody can have the least suspicion
That this is Clinia's mistress.

CHREM. How?

MENE. I pass
Their kisses and embraces. All that's nothing.

CHREM. What is there more than he can counterfeit?

MENE. Ah! (_Smiling._)

CHREM. What d'ye mean?

MENE. Nay, do but hear. I have
A private snug apartment, a back room,
Whither a bed was brought and made.

CHREM. What then?

MENE. No sooner done, than in went Clitipho.

CHREM. Alone?

ME