SYR. He loves to hear you praised: I make a god of you to him, {and} recount your virtues. CTES. What, mine? SYR. Yours; immediately the tears fall from him as from a child, for {very} joy. (_Starting._) Hah! take care---- CTES. Why, what’s the matter? SYR. The wolf in the fable[64]---- CTES. What! my father? SYR. His own self. CTES. What shall we do, Syrus? SYR. You only be off in-doors, I’ll see to that. CTES. If he makes any inquiries, you {have seen} me nowhere; do you hear? SYR. Can you not be quiet? (_They retreat to the door of MICIO’S house, and CTESIPHO stands in the doorway._) SCENE II. _Enter DEMEA, on the other side of the stage._ DEM. (_to himself._) I certainly am an unfortunate man. In the first place, I can find my brother nowhere; and then, in the next place, while looking for him, I met a day-laborer[65] from the farm; he says that my son is not in the country, and what to do I know not---- CTES. (_apart._) Syrus! SYR. (_apart._) What’s the matter? CTES. (_apart._) Is he looking for me? SYR. (_apart._) Yes. CTES. (_apart._) Undone! SYR. (_apart._) Nay, do be of good heart. DEM. (_to himself._) Plague on it! what ill luck is this? I can not really account for it, unless I suppose myself {only} born for the purpose of enduring misery. I am the first to feel our misfortunes; the first to know of them all; then the first to carry the news; I am the only one, if any thing does go wrong, to take it to heart. SYR. (_apart._) I’m amused at him; he says that he is the first to know of {every thing, while} he is the only one ignorant of every thing. DEM. (_to himself._) I’ve now come back; and I’ll go see whether perchance my brother has yet returned. CTES. (_apart._) Syrus, pray do take care that he doesn’t suddenly rush in upon us here. SYR. (_apart._) Now will you hold your tongue? I’ll take care. CTES. (_apart._) Never this day will I depend on your management for that, upon my faith; for I’ll shut myself up with her in some cupboard[66]-- that’s the safest. (_Goes into the house._) SYR. (_apart._) Do so, still I’ll get rid of him. DEM. (_seeing SYRUS._) But see! there’s that rascal, Syrus. SYR. (_aloud, pretending not to see DEMEA._) Really, upon my faith, no person can stay here, if this is to be the case! For my part, I should like to know how many masters I have-- what a cursed condition this is! DEM. What’s he whining about? What does he mean? How say you, good sir, is my brother at home? SYR. What the plague do you talk to me about, “good sir”? I’m quite distracted! DEM. What’s the matter with you? SYR. Do you ask the question? Ctesipho has been beating me, poor wretch, and that Music-girl, almost to death. DEM. Ha! what is it you tell me? SYR. Aye, see how he has cut my lip. (_Pretends to point to it._) DEM. For what reason? SYR. He says that she was bought by my advice. DEM. Did not you tell me, a short time since, that you had seen him on his way into the country?