Sim. I do not think as yet
Proof is sufficient, to attack my son.
Sos. Why not, I pray you?
Sim. For he will retort.
Father, you set a bourn to my pursuits,
And soon compel me to submit to others—
Let me, I pray you, live in the mean time.
Sos. What will be then sufficient cause of plaint?
Sim. If he through love of her refuse to wed,
That is an injury I may avenge.
I lay a trap to catch him, by false nuptials
Catching a true refusal; whereupon
I reason have to act. At the same time
I catch that cursed Davus, who will show
His store of tricks and wiles, which will not lack;
He will lay hand and foot to work to cheat.
He better loves, methinks, to trouble me
Than to assist my son.
Sos. Why so?
Sim. Dost ask!
"Bad mind, bad spirit;" but if I perceive—
Cease this discourse, for if he prove to me
Obedient, nor asks delay—then Chremes
May be brought round again, on due petition.
That which we now must do—to make appear
These spousals to be real: knock Davus down—
Keep eye upon my son, and mark what they
Will machinate together.
Sos. Enough, I will take heed,
Let us go in.
Sim. Go on, I follow you.
