Simo. A knave!
Who’s that he praises? (Listening.)
Davus. All is now secure. (To himself.)
Simo. Why don’t I speak to him?
Davus. My master here! (Turning about.)
What shall I do? (To himself.)
Simo. Good Sir, your humble Servant! (Sneering.)
Davus. Oh, Simo! and our Chremes!—All is now
Prepar’d within.
Simo. You’ve taken special care. (Ironically.)