Sos. I am glad;
And that my service is commendable,
I am grateful also, Simo; but my ear
Is frightened more than flattered by this speech.
Wherefore remind me of these benefits,
Unless it be to blame forgetfulness?
Then tell me in one word your present will.
Sim. I will do so; but first I must inform you
The nuptials which we feign to celebrate
Are but fictitious.
Sos. Wherefore do you feign them?
Sim. Hear, then, from first to last, and by that means
Learn my son's life, and what I now design.
When Pamphilus was adolescent, Sosia,
I gave him licence more than, perhaps, I ought;
But so I learnt his true propensities.
Unchecked by fear or magisterial hand,
He then betrayed his bent.
Sos. Ah! that is so.
Sim. Boys usually have passions and desires,
Hugging some special pastime to their arms
As dogs and horses—or philosophy.
For him—he follows with sobriety
All things with prudence, so delighting me.
Sos. And good; to my mind there is nought in life
Superior to the ail age that, "Enough
Equals a feast."
Sim. This was his course of life:
Urbane unto his fellows—subjecting
His will to theirs, his pleasures unto theirs,
Opposing none; it following, of course,
He gained their praises and he made them friends.
