Iam dudum, Pistoclere, tacitus te sequor, expectans quas tu res hoc ornatu geras. 110 namque ita me di ament, ut Lycurgus mihi quidem videtur posse hic ad nequitiam adducier. quo nunc capessis ted hinc adversa via cum tanta pompa? (_magisterially_) I have been following you in silence for some time, Pistoclerus, waiting to see what you were about with this gear. (_pointing to slaves and their hampers_) Why, Lord love me, I do believe Lycurgus[A] himself could be led astray here. Where are you betaking yourself now, going away up the street with such a train? [Footnote A: The Spartan reformer] _Pistoc._ Huc. (_pointing to Bacchis’s door_) Here. _Lydus_ Quid huc? quis istic habet? What do you mean by “here”? Who lives there? _Pistoc._ Amor, Voluptas, Venus, Venustas, Gaudium, Iocus, Ludus, Sermo, Suavisaviatio. (_rapturously_) Love, Delight, Venus, Grace, Joy, Jest, Jollity, Chitchat, Kissykissysweetkins! _Lydus_ Quid tibi commercist cum dis damnosissimis? (_shocked_) What commerce have you with such pernicious, pernicious deities? _Pistoc._ Mali sunt homines, qui bonis dicunt male; tu dis nec recte dicis: non aequom facis. It takes a bad man to say bad things of the good; you’re blaspheming the gods: it’s wrong. _Lydus_ An deus est ullus Sauvisaviatio? 120 You mean to say there is a god Kissykissysweetkins? _Pistoc._ An non putasti esse umquam? o Lyde, es barbarus; quem ego sapere nimio censui plus quam Thalem, is stultior es barbaro poticio, qui tantus natu deorum nescis nomina. You mean to say you didn’t ever suppose there was? Oh, Lydus, you are a barbarian! I fancied you were ever so much wiser than Thales and here you are, sillier than a barbarian babe in arms--your age, and not knowing the names of the gods! _Lydus_ Non hic placet mi ornatus. I do not like this paraphernalia. _Pistoc._ Nemo ergo tibi haec apparavit: mihi paratum est quoi placet. Well, nobody got it together for you: it was got for me, and I do like it. _Lydus_ Etiam me advorsus exordire argutias? qui si decem habeas linguas, mutum esse addecet. Are you actually commencing to make smart replies to me? You whom it befits to be mute, even if you had ten tongues? _Pistoc._ Non omnis aetas, Lyde, ludo convenit. magis unum in mentemst mihi nunc, satis ut commode 130 pro dignitate opsoni haec concuret cocus. We aren’t schoolboys for ever, Lydus. The one thing uppermost in my mind just now is that the cook may do as creditable a job on these edibles as their excellence calls for. _Lydus_ Iam perdidisti te atque me atque operam meam, qui tibi nequiquam saepe monstravi bene.