Dem. What can you do? If in reality this causes you no concern, to pretend it were surely the duty of a man.
Mic. But I have already betrothed the young woman to him; the matter is settled: the marriage takes place to-day. I have removed all apprehensions. This is rather the duty of a man.
Dem. But does the affair please you, Micio?
Mic. If I were able to alter it, no; now, as I can not, I bear it with patience. The life of man is just like playing with dice:[80] if that which you most want to throw does not turn up, what turns up by chance you must correct by art.
Dem. O rare corrector! of course it is by your art that twenty minæ have been thrown away for a Music-girl; who, as soon as possible, must be got rid of at any price; and if not for money, why then for nothing.
Mic. Not at all, and indeed I have no wish to sell her.
Dem. What will you do with her then?
Mic. She shall be at my house.
Dem. For heaven’s sake, a courtesan and a matron in the same house!
Mic. Why not?