SOS. This is a very sharp blow for my master; his fate is cruel. I greatly fear something coming for myself. I will go softly in enlightening her. CLE. Let me see whether he will so much as speak to me! I will not reveal anything. SOS. These things are often annoying when one knows about them: I hesitate to ask her. Would it not be better not to risk anything, and to ignore what may have happened? Yet, at all hazard, I must see. I cannot help myself. Curiosity concerning things which one would rather not know is a human weakness. Heaven preserve you, Cleanthis! CLE. Ah! Ah! You dare to come near me, you villain! SOS. Good Heavens! What is the matter with you? You are always in a temper, and become angry about nothing! CLE. What do you call about nothing? Speak out. SOS. I call about nothing what is called about nothing in verse as well as in prose; and nothing, as you well know, means to say nothing, or very little. CLE. I do not know what keeps me from scratching your eyes out, infamous rascal, to teach you how far the anger of a woman can go. SOS. Hullo! What do you mean by this furious rage? CLE. Then you call that nothing, perhaps, which you have done to me? SOS. What was that? CLE. So? You feign to be innocent? Do you follow the example of your master and say you did not return here? SOS. No, I know the contrary too well; but I will be frank with you. We had drunk some wretched wine, which might have made me forget what I did. CLE. You think, perhaps, to excuse yourself by this trick,... SOS. No, in truth you may believe me. I was in such a condition that I may have done things I should regret; I do not remember what they were. CLE. You do not even remember the manner in which you thought fit to treat me when you came from the port? SOS. Not at all. You had better tell me all about it; I am just and sincere, and would condemn myself were I wrong. CLE. Well? Amphitryon having warned me of your return, I sat up until you came; but I never saw such coldness: I had myself to remind you that you had a wife; and, when I wanted to kiss you, you, turned away your head, and gave me your ear. SOS. Good. CLE. What do you mean by good? SOS. Good gracious! You do not know why I talk like this, Cleanthis: I had been eating garlic, and, like a well-bred man, just turned my breath away from you. CLE. I showed you every possible tenderness; but you were as deaf as a post to everything I said; never a kind word passed your lips. SOS. Courage! CLE. In short, my flame bad to burn alone, its chaste ardour did not find anything in you but ice; you were the culprit in a return that might have been so different: you even went so far as to refuse to take your place in bed, which the laws of wedlock oblige you to occupy. SOS. What? Did I not go to bed? CLE. No, you coward. SOS. Is it possible?