Davus. Do we then seem to you such proper folks
To play these tricks upon? (Loud to Mysis.)
Chremes. I came in time. (To himself.)
Davus. Make haste, and take your bantling from our door. (Loud.)
Hold! do not stir from where you are, be sure. (Softly.)
Mysis. A plague upon you: you so terrify me!
Davus. Wench, did I speak to you or no? (Loud.)
Mysis. What would you?
Davus. What would I? Say, whose child have you laid here?
Tell me. (Loud.)