puzzling to Chremes, though he is quite unsuspicious as to the real state of affairs. Clinia and the supposed object of his affections conduct their love-passages in the most calm and decorous fashion; but young Clitipho, to the great annoyance of his father, who understands what is right and proper under such circumstances, insists upon thrusting his company upon them on all occasions. He naturally grudges his friend all the tête-à-têtes with his own beloved Bacchis, which his good-natured father is so anxious to secure for them. Clinia does not seem to mind these interruptions on the part of his friend; but Chremes is indignant at his son's want of ordinary tact and good manners, especially as he has detected little acts of glaring flirtation between him and Bacchis, which seem to imply gross disloyalty to his friend. He taxes him with this in an amusing scene, in the presence of Syrus, who is much alarmed lest his young master's want of self-command should lead to the detection of the imposture; for he, too, has seen him very distinctly toying with Bacchis's hand. Both of them beg him to go and leave the young couple to themselves.
Clitipho (helplessly). Wliere shall I go, sir?
Syrus. Go? why, bless my life,
Go anywhere—only leave them—go for a walk.
Clit. Where shall I walk to?
Syr. Zounds! why, anywhere—
There's plenty of walks—go this way—that way—any way.
Chremes. The man's quite right, sir,—go.
Clit. (moving off gloomily). Well, then—I'm going.
(Shaking his fist at Syrus as he goes.)
