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SCENE V.

Enter CLITIPHO, and CHREMES following.
Chremes.
How now?
What manners are these, Clitipho? Does this
Become you?

Clit.
What's the matter?

Chremes.
Did not I
This very instant see you put your hand
Into yon wench's bosom?


266

Syrus.
So! all's over:
I am undone.

[aside.
Clit.
Me, Sir?

Chremes.
These very eyes
Beheld you: don't deny it.—'Tis base in you,
To be so flippant with your hands. For what
Affront's more gross, than to receive a friend
Under your roof, and tamper with his mistress?
And last night in your cups too how indecent,
And rudely you behav'd!

Syrus.
'Tis very true.

Chremes.
So very troublesome, so help me heav'n,
I fear'd the consequence. I know the ways
Of lovers: they oft take offence at things,
You dream not of.

Clit.
But my companion, Sir,
Is confident I would not wrong him.

Chremes.
Granted.
Yet you should cease to hang for ever on them.
Withdraw, and leave them sometimes to themselves.
Love has a thousand sallies; you restrain them.
I can conjecture from myself. There's none,
How near soever, Clitipho, to whom
I dare lay open all my weaknesses.

267

With one my pride forbids it, with another
The very action shames me: and believe me,
It is the same with Him; and 'tis our place
To mark on what occasions to indulge him.

Syrus.
What says He now?

[aside.
Clit.
Confusion!

Syrus.
Clitipho,
These are the very precepts that I gave you:
And how discreet and temperate you've been!

Clit.
Prithee, peace!

Syrus.
Ay, I warrant you.

Chremes.
Oh, Syrus,
I'm quite asham'd of him.

Syrus.
I do not doubt it.
Nor without reason; for it troubles Me.

Clit.
Still, rascal?

Syrus.
Nay, I do but speak the truth.

Clit.
May I not then go near them?

Chremes.
Prithee, then,
Is there one way alone of going near them?

Syrus.
Confusion! he'll betray himself, before
I get the money. [aside.]
—Chremes, will you once

Hear a fool's counsel?

Chremes.
What do you advise?


268

Syrus.
Order your son about his business.

Clit.
Whither?

Syrus.
Whither? where'er you please. Give place to Them.
Go, take a walk.

Clit.
Walk! where?

Syrus.
A pretty question!
This, that, or any way.

Chremes.
He says right. Go!

Clit.
Now, plague upon you, Syrus!

[going.
Syrus
to Clit. going.]
Henceforth, learn
To keep those hands of yours at rest.

[Exit. Clit.]