(_half aside, afraid to move_) I’m a dead man! _Art._ Immo es, ne nega, omnium unus pol nequissimus. at etiam cubat cuculus. surge amator, i domum. Good gracious, no! You’re the vilest man living, and you needn’t deny it. But he’s roosting there still, the cuckoo! Get up, my gallant; home with you! _Dem._ Vae mihi. (_half aside_) Oh, I’m in for it! _Art._ Vera hariolare. surge, amator, i domum. You are a true prophet. Get up, my gallant; home with you! _Dem._ Abscede ergo paululum istuc. Well then, do stand a bit farther off. _Art._ Surge, amator, i domum. Get up, my gallant; home with you! _Dem._ Iam obsecro, uxor. For heaven’s sake now, my dear! _Art._ Nunc uxorem me esse meministi tuam? modo, cum dicta in me ingerebas, odium, non uxor eram. Now you recollect that I am your dear, do you? A moment ago, when you were saying things about me, I was your abomination, not your dear. _Dem._ Totus perii. (_half aside_) It’s all up with me, absolutely! _Art._ Quid tandem? anima fetetne uxoris tuae? You really meant it, did you? Your dear’s breath smells, does it? _Dem._ Murram olet. (_hastily_) Smells of myrrh, myrrh! _Art._ Iam subrupuisti pallam, quam scorto dares? (_ironically_) Have you stolen the mantle yet to give this creature? _Phil._ Ecastor qui subrupturum pallam promisit tibi. 930 He promised he would steal it from you, indeed he did! _Dem._ Non taces? (_aside to Philaenium_) Shut up, won’t you? _Argyr._ Ego dissuadebam, mater. I tried to dissuade him, mother. _Art._ Bellum filium. istoscine patrem aequom est mores liberis largirier? nilne te pudet? A pretty son! (_to Demaenetus_) Is this the way for a father to edify his children? Is there nothing you’re ashamed of? (_helps him off the couch by the ear_) _Dem._ Pol, si aliud nil sit, tui me, uxor, pudet. Oh Lord! You make me ashamed, my dear, if nothing else would. _Art._ Cano capite te cuculum uxor ex lustris rapit. (_guiding him toward the door_) It’s your dear that is dragging you from this den of vice, your hoary-headed cuckoo! _Dem._ Non licet manere--cena coquitur--dum cenem modo? Mayn’t I stay--dinner’s being cooked--just till I’ve dined? _Art._ Ecastor cenabis hodie, ut dignus es, magnum malum. Good heavens, sir! You shall dine as you deserve today--on dire distress. _Dem._ Male cubandum est: iudicatum me uxor abducit domum. (_aside_) It’s a poorish night I’m in for: here I am sentenced, and my wife leading me off--home. (_Argyrippus and Philaenium follow them to door_) _Argyr._ Dicebam, pater, tibi, ne matri consuleres male. I kept telling you, father, not to play any tricks on mother. _Phil._ De palla memento, amabo.