Chrem. That self-same thing they are now about.
Men. What do you tell me, Chremes? Why surely, this Courtesan, who is at my house, is Clitipho’s mistress.
Chrem. So they say, and you believe it all; and they say that he is desirous of a wife, in order that, when I have betrothed her, you may give him money, with which to provide gold trinkets and clothing, and other things that are requisite.
Men. That is it, no doubt; that money will be given to his mistress.
Chrem. Of course it is to be given.
Men. Alas! in vain then, unhappy man, have I been overjoyed; still however, I had rather any thing than be deprived of him. What answer now shall I report from you, Chremes, so that he may not perceive that I have found it out, and take it to heart?
Chrem. To heart, indeed! you are too indulgent to him, Menedemus.
Men. Let me go on; I have now begun: assist me in this throughout, Chremes.
Chrem. Say then, that you have seen me, and have treated about the marriage.
Men. I’ll say so—what then?