pergam exquirere, quis fuerit quem propter corpus suom stupri compleverit nam me, quam illam quaestionem inquisitam hodie amittere, mortuom satrust. sed aedis occluserunt. eugepae, pariter hoc fit atque ut alia facta sunt. feriam foris. aperite hoc. heus, ecquis hic est? ecquis hoc aperit ostium? 1020

Now I’m going home and ask my wife some more questions about this, and (savagely) find out who it is she has prostituted herself for.  Ah, I’d sooner die than let the day pass without having this matter settled. (trying door) Well! they’ve locked up the house!  Nice doings!  Quite in accord with the rest of it.  I’ll knock. (does so) Open up here!  Hey! is anyone in?  Open—­somebody! (knocks more lustily)

IV. 2.

    Scene 2.

    Mercury, MUCH DISHEVELED, APPEARS ON ROOF.

Mer.

  Quis ad fores est?

      (thickly) Who’s at the door?

Amph.

  Ego sum.

      I am.

Mer.

  Quid ego sum?

      I am, eh?

Amph.

  Ita loquor.

      (sharply) So I say.

Mer.

  Tibi Iuppiter
  dique omnes nati certo sunt, qui sic frangas fores.

      Jupiter and ... all the ... gods ... are surely angry at you
      ... demolishing our door so.

Amph.

  Quo modo?

      What do you mean!

Mer.

  Eo modo, ut profecto vivas aetatem miser.

      Here’s ... what I mean ... you’re certainly going to have a
      bad, bad time of it.

Amph.

  Sosia.

      (sternly) Sosia!

Mer.

  Ita, sum Sosia, nisi me esse oblitum existimas.
  quid nunc vis?

      Just so!  That’s me ... unless you think I’ve forgotten.  Now
      what do ... you want?

Amph.

  Sceleste, at etiam quid velim, id tu me rogas.

      Rascal!  Do you actually dare ask me that—­what I want?

Mer.

  Ita, rogo. paene effregisti, fatue, foribus cardines
  an foris censebas nobis publicitus praeberier?
  quid me aspectas, stolide? quid nunc vis tibi? aut quid tu es homo?

Of course I do.  You’ve almost hammered the doors off their hinges, you ... stupid.  Didn’t suppose we were supplied with doors at public expense, did you?  What are you staring at me for, you ... booby?  What are you after now?  Who are you?

Amph.

  Verbero, etiam quis ego sim me rogitas, ulmorum Acheruns?
  quem pol ego hodie ob istaec dicta faciam ferventem flagris. 1030

      You scoundrel!  Still asking me who I am, you death on rods,
      you?  By gad, I’ll warm you up with a whip to day for this
      insolence!