Syr. I believe so; such is his madness!
Dem. Is it possible?
Syr. An imprudent lenity in his father, and a vicious indulgence.
Dem. Really, I am ashamed and grieved at my brother.
Syr. Demea! between you there is a great—I do not say it because you are here present—a too great difference. You are, every bit of you, nothing but wisdom; he a mere dreamer. Would you indeed have suffered that son of yours to act thus?
Dem. I, suffer him? Would I not have smelt it out six months before he attempted it?
Syr. Need I be told by you of your foresight?
Dem. I pray he may only continue the same he is at present!
Syr. Just as each person wishes his son to be, so he turns out.
Dem. What news of him? Have you seen him to-day?