h! You dare to come near me, you villain!

SOS. Good Heavens! What is the matter with you? You are always in a
temper, and become angry about nothing!

CLE. What do you call about nothing? Speak out.

SOS. I call about nothing what is called about nothing in verse as well
as in prose; and nothing, as you well know, means to say nothing, or
very little.

CLE. I do not know what keeps me from scratching your eyes out, infamous
rascal, to teach you how far the anger of a woman can go.

SOS. Hullo! What do you mean by this furious rage?

CLE. Then you call that nothing, perhaps, which you have done to me?

SOS. What was that?

CLE. So? You feign to be innocent? Do you follow the example of your
master and say you did not return here?

SOS. No, I know the contrary too well; but I will be frank with you.
We had drunk some wretched wine, which might have made me forget what I
did.

CLE. You think, perhaps, to excuse yourself by this trick,...

SOS. No, in truth you may believe me. I was in such a condition that I
may have done things I should regret; I do not remember what they were.

CLE. You do not even remember the manner in which you thought fit to
treat me when you came from the port?

SOS. Not at all. You had better tell me all about it; I am just and
sincere, and would condemn myself were I wrong.

CLE. Well? Amphitryon having warned me of your return, I sat up until you
came; but I never saw such coldness: I had myself to remind you that you
had a wife; and, when I wanted to kiss you, you, turned away your head,
and gave me your ear.

SOS. Good.

CLE. What do you mean by good?

SOS. Good gracious! You do not know why I talk like this, Cleanthis: I
had been eating garlic, and, like a well-bred man, just turned my breath
away from you.

CLE. I showed you every possible tenderness; but you were as deaf as a
post to everything I said; never a kind word passed your lips.

SOS. Courage!

CLE. In short, my flame bad to burn alone, its chaste ardour did not
find anything in you but ice; you were the culprit in a return that
might have been so different: you even went so far as to refuse to take
your place in bed, which the laws of wedlock oblige you to occupy.

SOS. What? Did I not go to bed?

CLE. No, you coward.

SOS. Is it possible?

CLE. It is but too true, you rascal. Of all affronts this affront is the
greatest; and, instead of your heart repairing its wrong this morning,
you left me with