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(angrily) Quite so!
Chrys.
Quid illam, meretricemne esse censes?
Well, do you think she’s a harlot?
Nic.
Quippini?
Naturally.
Chrys.
Frustra es.
You’re mistaken.
Nic.
Quis igitur obsecrost?
For heaven’s sake, who is she, then?
Chrys.
Inveneris.
840
ex me quidem hodie numquam fies certior.
(again mysterious)
You’ll soon discover. But you’ll never
get the information
from me to-day.
IV. 8.
Scene 8.
ENTER Cleomachus, APPARENTLY NOT SEEING GROUP AT DOORWAY.
Cleom.
Meamne hic Mnesilochus, Nicobuli filius,
per vim ut retineat mulierem? quae haec
factiost?
(blustering)
Mnesilochus, Nicobulus’s son, keep her here
by force—my
woman? What sort of conduct is this?
Nic.
Quis illest?
Who is that?
Chrys.
Per tempus hic venit miles mihi.
(aside)
The Captain has come just in the nick of time for
me. (draws
Nicobulus farther away)
Cleom.
Non me arbitratur militem, sed mulierem, qui me meosque non queam defendere. nam neque Bellona mi umquam neque Mars creduat, ni illum exanimalem faxo, si convenero, nive exheredem fecero vitae suae.
He takes me for a woman, not a soldier, a woman unable to defend myself and mine! Now never may Bellona[K] and Mars trust me more, unless I extinguish his vital spark, once I come upon him, and unless I disinherit him of his existence!
[Footnote K: The goddess of war.]
Nic.
Chrysale, quis ille est qui minitatur filio? 850
(anxiously) Chrysalus! who’s that threatening my son?
Chrys.
Vir hic est illius mulieris quacum accubat.
(coolly)
He is the husband of that woman beside your son
on the couch.
Nic.
Quid, vir?
(in terror) What? The husband?
Chrys.
Vir, inquam.
That is what I say, the husband.
Nic.
Nuptanest illa, obsecro?
For heaven’s sake, is she married?
Chrys.
Scies haud multo post.
You’ll see a little later.
Nic.
Oppido interii miser.
Oh! This is perfectly agonizing!
Chrys.
