CHREMYLUS. Nay! heaven preserve me from that!
BLEPSIDEMUS. A truce to idle phrases! the thing is only too apparent, my friend.
CHREMYLUS. Don't suspect such a thing of me.
BLEPSIDEMUS. Alas! then there is no honest man! not one, that can resist the attraction of gold!
CHREMYLUS. By Demeter, you have no common sense.
BLEPSIDEMUS. To have to persist like this in denial one's whole life long!
CHREMYLUS. But, good gods, you are mad, my dear fellow!
BLEPSIDEMUS. His very look is distraught; he has done some crime!
CHREMYLUS. Ah! I know the tune you are playing now; you think I have stolen, and want your share.
BLEPSIDEMUS. My share of what, pray?