Item, cheated a confiding friend; item, faithless to master; item, committed perjury consciously, cheerfully, in set form of words; item, dug your way into houses through the walls; item, caught at thieving; item, strung up repeatedly and plead your case before eight bold, brawny beef-eaters with a gift for club swinging.

Lib.

Fateor profecto ut praedicas, Leonida, esse vera; verum edepol ne etiam tua quoque malefacta iterari multa et vero possunt; ubi sciens fideli infidus fueris, ubi prensus in furto sies manifesto et verberatus,[22] 569 ubi eris damno, molestiae et dedecori saepe fueris, (571)

I am quite ready to admit that is a just statement of the case, Leonida; but, Lord! the list of even your own villainies, too, can certainly be made lengthy enough, without injustice.  Item, consciously treacherous to a trusting friend; item, caught stealing redhanded and whipped; item, repeatedly brought loss, trouble, and disgrace on your masters;

ubi creditum quod sit tibi datum esse pernegaris,[23] (572) ubi saepe ad languorem tua duritia dederis octo (574) validos lictores, ulmeis adfectos lentis virgis. num male relata est gratia, ut collegam collaudavi?

item, had money left in your keeping and swore and swore it wasn’t; item, repeatedly exhausted by your toughness eight strong lictors equipped with pliant elm rods. (pause) Have I celebrated my colleague highly enough to pay him back—­eh, what?

Leon.

  Ut meque teque maxime atque ingenio nostro decuit.

      (thoughtfully) Yes, pretty much what you and I and our
      characters deserved.

Lib.

  Iam omitte ista atque hoc quod rogo responde.

      Drop your nonsense now and answer me this question.

Leon.

  Rogita quod vis.

      Ask your question.

Lib.

  Argenti viginti minas habesne?

      (triumphantly) The eighty pounds, have you got it?

Leon.

Hariolare. edepol senem Demaenetum lepidum fuisse nobis:  580 ut adsimulabat Sauream med esse quam facete! nimis aegre risum contini, ubi hospitem inclamavit, quod se absente mihi fidem habere noluisset. ut memoriter me Sauream vocabat atriensem.

You’re a prophet!  By gad, old Demaenetus did do the handsome thing by us.  The way he pretended I was Saurea—­clever, my word!  I did have a deuce of a time holding in when he hauled our guest over the coils for not being willing to trust me in his absence.  The way he remembered to keep calling me steward Saurea!

Lib.

  Mane dum.

      (looking toward Cleareta’s house) Wait, though!