SCA. As you've been holding the mirror, I'm afraid that your hands may smell of silver; lest Philolaches should suspect you've been receiving silver somewhere. PHILO. (_apart_). I don't think that I ever did see anyone procuress more cunning. How cleverly and artfully did it occur to the jade's imagination about the mirror! PHILE. Do you think I ought to be perfumed with unguents as well? SCA. By no means do so. PHILE. For what reason? SCA. Because, i' faith, a woman smells best [6] when she smells of nothing at all. For those old women who are in the habit of anointing themselves with unguents, vampt up _creatures_, old hags, _and_ toothless, who hide the blemishes of the person with paint, when the sweat has blended itself with the unguents, forthwith they stink just like when a cook has poured together a variety of broths; what they smell of, you don't know, except this only, that you understand that badly they do smell. PHILO. (_apart_). How very cleverly she does understand everything! There's nothing more knowing than this knowing woman! (_To the_ AUDIENCE.) This is the truth, and a very great portion, in fact, of you know it, who have old women for wives at home who purchased you with their portions. PHILE. Come now; examine my golden trinkets and my mantle; does this quite become me, Scapha? SCA. It befits not me to concern myself about that. PHILE. Whom then, prithee? SCA. I'll tell you; Philolaches; so that he may not buy anything except that which he fancies will please you. For a lover buys the favours of a mistress for himself with gold and purple garments. What need is there for that which he doesn't want as his own, to be shown him still? Age is to be enveloped in purple; gold ornaments are unsuitable for a woman. A beautiful woman will be more beautiful naked than drest in purple. Besides, it's in vain she's well-drest if she's ill-conducted; ill-conduct soils fine ornaments worse than dirt. But if she's beauteous, she's sufficiently adorned. PHILO. (_apart_). Too long have I withheld my hand. (_Coming forward._) What are you about here? PHILE. I'm decking myself out to please you. PHILO. You are dressed enough. (_To_ SCAPHA.) Go you hence indoors, and take away this finery. (SCAPHA _goes into the house._) But, my delight, my Philematium, I have a mind to regale together with you. PHILE. And, i' faith, so I have with you; for what you have a mind to, the same have I a mind to, my delight. PHILO. Ha! at twenty minae that expression were cheap. PHILE. Give me ten, there's a dear; I wish to let you have that expression bought a bargain. PHILO. You've already got ten minae with you; or reckon up the account: thirty minae I gave for your freedom-- PHILE. Why reproach me _with that_? PHILO. What, I reproach you with it? Why, I had rather that I myself were reproached with it; no money whatever for this long time have I ever laid out equally well.