Chrem. You seem, then, to have effected something, I know not what, with the old gentleman.
Syr. As to what we were talking of a short time since? No sooner said than done.
Chrem. In real earnest?
Syr. In real.
Chrem. Upon my faith, I can not forbear patting your head for it. Come here, Syrus; I’ll do you some good turn for this matter, and with pleasure. (Patting his head.)
Syr. But if you knew how cleverly it came into my head——
Chrem. Pshaw! Do you boast because it has turned out according to your wishes?
Syr. On my word, not I, indeed; I am telling the truth.
Chrem. Tell me how it is.
Syr. Clinia has told Menedemus, that this Bacchis is your Clitipho’s mistress, and that he has taken her thither with him in order that you might not come to know of it.