Syr. (overhearing him.) Ha, Demea! I didn’t see you; how goes it?
Dem. How should it go? I can not enough wonder at your mode of living here.
Syr. Why, really silly enough, and, to speak without disguise, altogether absurd. (Calls at the door of Micio’s house.) Dromo, clean the rest of the fish; let the largest conger-eel play a little in the water; when I come back it shall be boned;[49] not before.
Dem. Is profligacy like this——
Syr. As for myself, it isn’t to my taste, and I often exclaim against it. (Calls at the door.) Stephanio, take care that the salt fish is well soaked.
Dem. Ye Gods, by our trust in you! is he doing this for any purpose of his own, or does he think it creditable to ruin his son? Wretch that I am! methinks I already see the day when Æschinus will be running away for want, to serve somewhere or other as a soldier.[50]
Syr. O Demea! that is wisdom indeed,—not only to look at the present moment, but also to look forward to what’s to come.
Dem. Well—is this Music-girl still with you?
Syr. Why, yes, she’s in-doors.
Dem. How now—is he going to keep her at home?