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 the disturbance,

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.)