Dem. For what reason?
Syr. He says that she was bought by my advice.
Dem. Did not you tell me, a short time since, that you had seen him on his way into the country?
Syr. I did; but he afterward came back, raving like a madman; he spared nobody—ought he not to have been ashamed to beat an old man? Him whom, only the other day, I used to carry about in my arms when thus high? (Showing.)
Dem. I commend him; O Ctesipho, you take after your father. Well, I do pronounce you a man.
Syr. Commend him? Assuredly he will keep his hands to himself in future, if he’s wise.
Dem. ’Twas done with spirit.
Syr. Very much so, to be beating a poor woman, and me, a slave, who didn’t dare strike him in return; heyday! very spirited indeed!
Dem. He could not have done better: he thought the same as I did, that you were the principal in this affair. But is my brother within?
Syr. He is not.