Davus. Nothing worth speaking of.
Simo. But tell me what it is?
Davus. He says you are too sparing of your purse.
Simo. Who? I?
Davus. You. My father, said he, has scarcely spent ten drachms for the wedding supper[136]: does this look like the marriage of his son? I cannot invite my companions even on such an occasion as this. Indeed, Sir[137], I think you are too frugal: it is not well timed.
Simo. [angrily.] Hold your tongue.
Davus. [aside.] I’ve [138]ruffled him now!
Simo. I will take care that every thing is as it should be. Away! [Exit Davus.] What can all this be about? what can this crafty knave mean? if there is any mischief on foot, this fellow is sure to be the contriver of it.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.