Quid si non est?

      What if I haven’t it?

Cle.

  Tibi non esse credam, illa alio ibit tamen.

      (smiling, but firm) I’ll give you credit—­that you haven’t
      it:  the girl shall go to some one else, however.

Argyr.

  Ubi illaec quae dedi ante?

      Where is what I gave you before?

Cle.

Abusa. nam si ea durarent mihi, mulier mitteretur ad te, numquam quicquam poscerem. diem aquam solem lunam noctem, haec argento non emo:  ceterum quae volumus uti Graeca mercamur fide.

Spent.  Why, if it had lasted, you should have your lady, and not a thing would I be asking for.  Daylight, water, sunlight, moonlight, darkness—­for these things I have to pay no money:  everything else we wish to use we purchase on Greek credit.

quom a pistore panem petimus, vinum ex oenopolio. 200 si aes habent, dant mercem:  eadem nos discipulina utimur. semper oculatae manus sunt nostrae, credunt quod vident. vetus est:  “nihili coactiost”—­scis cuius. non dico amplius.

When we go to the baker for bread, to the vintner for wine, their rule is commodities for cash:  we use the same system ourselves.  Our hands have eyes always:  seeing is believing with them.  As the old proverb has it:  “There’s no getting”—­you know what.  I say no more.

Argyr.

Aliam nunc mi orationem despoliato praedicas, longe aliam, inquam, praebes nunc atque olim, quom dabam, aliam atque olim, quom inliciebas me ad te blande ac benedice. tum mi aedes quoque arridebant, cum ad te veniebam, tuae; me unice unum ex omnibus te atque illam amare aibas mihi;

It’s a different sort of eloquence you use on me now I’ve been fleeced, very different, I say, from that former sort when I was giving you things, different from that former sort when you were luring me on with your smooth, suave talk.  Then your very house used to be wreathed in smiles, when I turned up.  You used to say I was the one and only love in all the world for you and her.

ubi quid dederam, quasi columbae pulli in ore ambae meo usque eratis, meo de studio studia erant vostra omnia, 210 usque adhaerebatis:  quod ego iusseram, quod volueram faciebatis, quod nolebam ac votueram, de industria fugiebatis, neque conari id facere audebatis prius. nunc neque quid velim neque nolim facitis magni, pessumae.

After I’d given you anything the both of you used to keep hanging on my lips like a pair of young doves.  Whatever I fancied, you fancied, and nothing else.  You used to keep clinging to me.  I ordered a thing, wished a thing,—­you used to do it:  I disliked a thing, forbade a thing,—­you used to take pains to avoid doing it:  you didn’t dare attempt to do it then.  Now you don’t care tuppence what I like, or don’t like, you vile wretches!

Cle.