Davus. What can he want? (To himself.)
Simo. (overhearing). What say you?
Davus. Upon what? Sir.
Simo. Upon what!
The world reports that my son keeps a mistress.
Davus. Oh, to be sure, the world cares much for that.
Simo. D’ye mind what I say? Sirrah!
Davus. Nothing more, Sir.
Simo. But for me now to dive into these matters
May seem perhaps like too severe a father: