Mic. Never is there any thing more unreasonable than a man who wants experience, who thinks nothing right except what he himself has done.
Dem. What is the meaning of that?
Mic. Because, Demea, you misjudge these matters. It is no heinous crime, believe me, for a young man to intrigue or to drink; it is not; nor yet for him to break open a door. If neither I nor you did so, it was poverty that did not allow us to do so. Do you now claim that as a merit to yourself, which you then did from necessity? That is unfair; for if we had had the means to do so, we should have done the same. And, if you were a man, you would now suffer that other son of yours to act thus now, while his age will excuse it, rather than, when he has got you, after long wishing it, out of the way, he should still do so, at a future day, and at an age more unsuited.
Dem. O Jupiter! You, sir, are driving me to distraction. Is it not a heinous thing for a young man to do these things?
Mic. Oh! do listen to me, and do not everlastingly din me upon this subject. You gave me your son to adopt; he became mine; if he offends in any thing, Demea, he offends against me: in that case I shall bear the greater part of the inconvenience. Does he feast,[27] does he drink, does he smell of perfumes,[28]—it is at my cost. Does he intrigue, money shall be found by me, so long as it suits me; when it shall be no longer convenient, probably he’ll be shut out of doors.[29] Has he broken open a door—it shall be replaced; has he torn any one’s clothes—they shall be mended. Thanks to the Gods, I both have means for doing this, and these things are not as yet an annoyance. In fine, either desist, or else find some arbitrator between us: I will show that in this matter you are the most to blame.
Dem. Ah me! Learn to be a father from those who are really so.
Mic. You are his father by nature, I by my anxiety.
Dem. You, feel any anxiety?
Mic. Oh dear,—if you persist, I’ll leave you.
Dem. Is it thus you act?