What has so
far happened, I am surprised at, that he didn't order me to be carried
off from here: now I'll away to Menedemus here, I'll secure him as my
intercessor; I can put no trust in our old man. (_Goes into the house
of MENEDEMUS._)

SCENE III.

_Enter CHREMES and SOSTRATA from the house._

SOS. Really, sir, if you don't take care, you'll be causing some
mischief to your son; and indeed I do wonder at it, my husband, how
any thing so foolish could ever come into your head.

CHREM. Oh, you persist in being the woman? Did I ever wish for any one
thing in {all} my life, Sostrata, but that you were my contradicter on
that occasion? And yet if I were now to ask you what it is that I have
done amiss, or why you act thus, you would not know in what point you
are now so obstinately opposing me in your folly.

SOS. I, not know?

CHREM. Yes, rather, {I should have said} you do know; inasmuch as
either expression amounts to the same thing.[101]

SOS. Alas! you are unreasonable to expect me to be silent in a matter
of such importance.

CHREM. I don't expect it; talk on then, I shall still do it not a bit
the less.

SOS. Will you do it?

CHREM. Certainly.

SOS. Don't you see how much evil you will be causing by that course?
--He suspects himself {to be} a foundling.

CHREM. Do you say {so}?

SOS. Assuredly it will be so.

CHREM. Admit it.

SOS. Hold {now}-- prithee, let that be for our enemies. Am I to admit
that he is not my son who {really} is?

CHREM. What! are you afraid that you can not prove that he is yours,
whenever you please?

SOS. Because my daughter has been found?[102]

CHREM. No; but for {a reason} why it should be much sooner believed--
because he is just like you in disposition, you will easily prove that
he is your child; for he is exactly like you; why, he has not a single
vice left him but you have just the same. Then, besides, no woman
could have been the mother of such a son but yourself. But he's coming
out of doors, {and} how demure! When you understand the matter, you
may form your own conclusions.

SCENE IV.

_Enter CLITIPHO from the house of CHREMES._

CLIT. If there ever was any time, mother, when I caused you pleasure,
being called your son by your own desire, I beseech you to remember
it, and now to take compassion on me in my distress. A thing I beg and
request-- do discover to me my parents.

SOS. I conjure you, my son, not to entertain that {notion} in yo