Part 63 (1/2)

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 n.o.body can have the least suspicion That this is Clinia's mistress.

CHREM. How?

MENE. I pa.s.s 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?