(_superior_) Just because you yourself are poverty-stricken in your own country, with nothing at home to live on, you want to have every one else put in the same list. There is nothing strange in that: it is characteristic of poor beggars to be ill-natured, and envy the well-to-do. _Arist._ Hegio, vide sis, ne quid tu huic temere insistas credere. atque, ut perspicio, profecto iam aliquid pugnae edidit. filium tuom quod redimere se ait, id ne utiquam mini placet. Hegio, I beg you take care not to go on with your rash confidence in this fellow. And for that matter, he’s certainly given you a fall or two already, I take it. This talk of his about rescuing your son doesn’t please me at all. _Tynd._ Scio te id nolle fieri; efficiam tamen ego id, si di adiuvant. illum restituam huic, hic autem in Alidem me meo patri. propterea ad patrem hinc amisi Tyndarum. (_with an appealing look_) I know you don’t want it done; but I’ll bring it about, God helping me. (_slowly_) I will restore his son to this gentleman, and then this gentleman will send me back to Elis to my father. That was why I sent Tyndarus off to my father. _Arist._ Quin tute is es: neque praeter te in Alide ullus servos istoc nominest. 590 Why, you’re Tyndarus yourself: and besides you there’s not a slave in Elis of that name. _Tynd._ Pergin servom me exprobrare esse, id quod vi hostili optigit? Still taunting me with being a slave, eh? A slave as it happens, because the enemy were too much for us! _Arist._ Enim iam nequeo contineri. (_angrily_) I positively can’t control myself any longer! _Tynd._ Heus, audin quid ait? quin fugis? iam illic his nos insectabit lapidibus, nisi illunc iubes comprehendi. (_apparently alarmed, to Hegio_) Aha! Hear what he’s saying? Run, why don’t you? He’ll be after us with stones in a minute, if you don’t have him seized. _Arist._ Crucior. Oh, this is driving me wild! _Tynd._ Ardent oculi: fit opus, Hegio; viden tu illi maculari corpus totum maculis luridis? atra bilis agitat hominem. His eyes are blazing! He’s having one, Hegio! See how his whole body is covered with lurid spots? It’s black fury that’s tormenting the fellow! _Arist._ At pol te, si hic sapiat senex, pix atra agitet apud carnificem tuoque capiti inluceat. Now, by the Lord, if this old gentleman did the wise thing, it’s black pitch that would torment you at the executioner’s, and light up that head of yours! _Tynd._ Iam deliramenta loquitur, laruae stimulant virum. hercle qui, si hunc comprehendi iusseris, sapias magis. Now he’s got to the raving point! Evil spirits are hounding the man, Hegio. Heavens! You’d do more wisely to have him seized! _Arist._