Pyth.

  Haec mihi te ut tibi med aequom est, credo, credere.

      (ingenuously) You should believe me, I believe, just
      as I should believe you.

Anthr.

  Immo equidem credo.

      (hurriedly) Oh, no, no!  I do believe, of course!

Pyth.

  At scin etiam quomodo?
  aquam hercle plorat, cum lavat, profundere.

      But listen to this, will you?  Upon my word, after he takes a
      bath it just breaks him all up to throw away the water.

Anthr.

  Censen talentum magnum exorari pote
  ab istoc sene ut det, qui fiamus liberi? 310

      D’ye think the old buck could be induced to make us a
      present of a couple of hundred pounds to buy ourselves off
      with?

Pyth.

  Famem hercle utendam si roges, numquam dabit.
  quin ipsi pridem tonsor unguis dempserat: 
  collegit, omnia abstulit praesegmina.

Lord!  He wouldn’t make you a loan of his hunger, no sir, not if you begged him for it.  Why, the other day when a barber cut his nails for him he collected all the clippings and took ’em home.

Anthr.

  Edepol mortalem parce parcum praedicas.

      My goodness, he’s quite a tight one, from what you say.

Pyth.

Censen vero adeo esse parcum et miserum vivere? pulmentum pridem ei eripuit milvos:  homo ad praetorem plorabundus devenit; infit ibi postulare plorans, eiulans, ut sibi liceret milvom vadarier. sescenta sunt quae memorem, si sit otium. 320 sed uter vestrorum est celerior? memora mihi.

Honest now, would you believe a man could be so tight and live so wretched?  Once a kite flew off with a bit of food of his:  down goes the fellow to the magistrate’s, blubbering all the way, and there he begins, howling and yowling, demanding to have the kite bound over for trial.  Oh, I could tell hundreds of stories about him if I had time. (to both cooks) But which of you is the quicker?  Tell me that.

Anthr.

  Ego, et multo melior.

      I am, and a whole lot better, too.

Pyth.

  Cocum ego, non furem rogo.

      At cooking I mean, not thieving.

Anthr.

  Cocum ergo dico.

      Well, I mean cooking.

Pyth.

  Quid tu ais?

      (to Congrio) And how about you?

Cong.

  Sic sum ut vides.

      (with a meaning glance at Anthrax) I’m what I look.

Anthr.

  Cocus ille nundinalest, in nonum diem
  solet ire coctum.

      He’s nothing but a market-day cook, that chap:  he only gets
      a job once a week.