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SCENE XI.
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398

SCENE XI.

Enter at a distance SYRUS drunk.
Syrus,
to himself.]
Faith, little Syrus, you've ta'en special care
Of your sweet self, and play'd your part most rarely.
—Well, go your ways:—but having had my fill
Of ev'ry thing within, I've now march'd forth
To take a turn or two abroad.

Dem.
behind.]
Look there!
A pattern of instruction!

Syrus,
seeing him.]
But see there:
Yonder's old Demea. [going up to him.]
What's the matter now?

And why so melancholy?

Dem.
Oh thou villain!

Syrus.
What! are you spouting sentences, old Wisdom?

Dem.
Were you my servant—

Syrus.
You'd be plaguy rich,
And settle your affairs most wonderfully.

Dem.
I'd make you an example.

Syrus.
Why? for what?

Dem.
Why, sirrah?— In the midst of this disturbance,

399

And in the heat of a most heavy crime,
While all is yet confusion, you've got drunk,
As if for joy, you rascal!

Syrus.
Why the plague
Did not I keep within?

[aside.
 

The gravity of Demea and drunkenness of Syrus create a very humourous contrast, and are admirably calculated to excite mirth in the spectators. Donatus.