Bacchides, or The Twin Sisters (471-485)

She, too, like a tide, most voraciously swallows all up, whenever she has touched any one.

Where does this woman live?

Here.

Whence do they say she comes?

From Samos.

What’s her name?

Bacchis.

You are wrong, Lydus; I know the whole affair, just as it is. You are blaming Pistoclerus without reason, and in his innocence.

For he is carefully performing the business enjoined on him by his friend and companion, his sincere well-wisher. Neither is he himself in love, nor do you suppose him so.

Is it necessary for him carefully to perform the business enjoined upon him by his friend in this fashion—for himself, sitting down, to hold a damsel in his lap who is kissing him? Can the business thus entrusted be in no way transacted unless ever and anon

he is placing his hand upon the bosom of Bacchis, or never withdraws his lips from hers? But I’m ashamed to make mention of other things which I have seen him do; when, in my presence, I saw him take most unbecoming liberties with the person of Bacchis, and yet not be at all ashamed. What need of words is there? My pupil, your friend, his son (pointing to PHILOXENUS), is ruined.

For I say that he is ruined, whose modesty in fact is lost. What need of words is there? Had I been willing to wait only a little time, that I might have had a better opportunity of viewing him, I then should, I think, have seen more than would have been proper for me to see, and for him to do.