The cunning rogueries of that slave, Syrus. (Laughing.)
Mene. Oh, was that it?
Chrem. Why, he can form and mould
The very visages of men, a rogue! (Laughing.)
Mene. Meaning my son’s well-acted transport?
Chrem. Aye. (Laughing.)
Mene. The very thing that I was thinking of.
Mene. The very same thing I was thinking of.
Chrem. A subtle villain! (Laughing.)
Mene. Nay, if you knew more,