Scene VII.

Manent Simo and Davus.

Davus. Now he supposes I've some trick in hand, And loiter here to practice it on him!

Simo. Well, what now, Davus?

Davus. Nothing.

Simo. Nothing, say you?

Davus. Nothing at all.

Simo. And yet I look'd for something.

Davus. So, I perceive, you did:- This nettles him. (Aside.)

Simo. Can you speak truth?

Davus. Most easily.

Simo. Say then, Is not this wedding irksome to my son, From his adventure with the Andrian?

Davus. No faith; or if at all, 'twill only be Two or three days' anxiety, you know; Then 'twill be over: for he sees the thing In its true light.

Simo. I praise him for't.

Davus. While you Restrain'd him not; and while his youth allow'd 'Tis true he lov'd; but even then by stealth, As wise men ought, and careful of his fame. Now his age calls for matrimony, now To matrimony he inclines his mind.

Simo. Yet, in my eyes, he seem'd a little sad.

Davus. Not upon that account. He has he thinks Another reason to complain of you.

Simo. For what?

Davus. A trifle.

Simo. Well, what is't?

Davus. Nay, nothing.

Simo. Tell me, what is't?

Davus. You are then, he complains, Somewhat too sparing of expense.

Simo. I?

Davus. You. A feast of scarce ten Drachms? Does this, says he, Look like a wedding-supper for his son? What friends can I invite? especially At such a time as this? - and, truly, Sir, You have been very frugal; much too sparing. I can't commend you for it.

Simo. Hold your peace.

Davus. I've ruffled him. (Aside.)

Simo. I'll look to that. Away!

Exit Davus.

What now? What means the varlet? Precious rogue, For if there's any knavery on foot, He, I am sure, is the contriver on't.

Exit.