able town life, and {taken} my ease; and, what they
esteem a piece of luck, I have never had a wife. He, on the contrary
to all this, has spent his life in the country, {and} has always lived
laboriously and penuriously. He married a wife, {and} has two sons.
This one, the elder of them, I have adopted. I have brought him up
from an infant, {and} considered {and} loved him as my own. In him I
centre my delight; this {object} alone is dear to me. On the other
hand, I take all due care that he may hold me equally dear. I give-- I
overlook; I do not judge it necessary to exert my authority in every
thing; in fine, the things that youth prompts to, {and} that others do
unknown to their fathers, I have used my son not to conceal from me.
For he, who, as the practice is, will dare to tell a lie to or to
deceive his father, will still more dare {to do so} to others. I think
it better to restrain children through a sense of shame and liberal
treatment, than through fear. On these points my brother does not
agree with me, nor do they please him. He often comes to me
exclaiming, "What are you about, Micio? Why do you ruin for us this
youth? Why does he intrigue? Why does he drink? Why do you supply him
with the means for these goings on? You indulge him with too much
dress; you are very inconsiderate." He himself is too strict, beyond
what is just and reasonable; and he is very much mistaken, in my
opinion, at all events, who thinks that an authority is more firm or
more lasting which is established by force, than that which is founded
on affection. Such is my mode of reasoning; and thus do I persuade
myself. He, who, compelled by harsh treatment, does his duty, so long
as he thinks it will be known, is on his guard: if he hopes that it
will be concealed, he again returns to his natural bent. He whom you
have secured by kindness, acts from inclination; he is anxious to
return like for like; present and absent, he will be the same. This is
the duty of a parent, to accustom a son to do what is right rather of
his own choice, than through fear of another. In this the father
differs from the master: he who can not do this, let him confess that
he does not know how to govern children. But is not this the very man
of whom I was speaking? Surely it is he. I don't know why it is I see
him out of spirits; I suppose he'll now be scolding as usual. Demea,
I am glad to see you well.[23]

SCENE II.

_Enter DEMEA._

DEM. Oh,-- opportun