Eh, what’s that?  What are you grinning for?  I know you, the whole lot of you!  I know there are thieves here, plenty of ’em, that cover themselves up in dapper clothes and sit still as if they were honest men. (to a spectator) You, sir, what do you say?  I’ll trust you, I will, I will.  Yes, you’re a worthy gentleman, I can tell it from your face.  Ha! none of them has it?  Oh, you’ve killed me!  Tell me, who has got it, then?  You don’t know?

heu me miserum, misere perii, male perditus, pessime ornatus eo:  tantum gemiti et mali maestitiaeque hic dies mi optulit, famem et pauperiem.

      Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!  I’m a ruined man!  I’m lost, lost! 
      Oh, what a plight!  Oh, such a cruel, disastrous, dismal day—­
      it’s made a starveling of me, a pauper!

perditissimus ego sum omnium in terra; nam quid mi opust vita, qui tantum auri perdidi, quod concustodivi sedulo? egomet me defraudavi animumque meum geniumque meum; nunc eo alii laetificantur meo malo et damno. pati nequeo.

I’m the forlornest wretch on earth!  Ah, what is there in life for me when I’ve lost all that gold I guarded, oh, so carefully!  I’ve denied myself, denied my own self comforts and pleasures; yes, and now others are making merry over my misery and loss!  Oh, it’s unendurable!

      ENTER Lyconides FROM HOUSE OF Megadorus.

Lyc.

  Quinam homo hic ante aedis nostras eiulans conqueritur maerens?
  atque hic quidem Euclio est, ut opinor.
        oppido ego interii:  palamst res,
  scit peperisse iam, ut ego opinor, filiam suam. nunc mi incertumst
  abeam an maneam, an adeam an fugiam quid agam edepol nescio. 730

Who in the world is raising all this howling, groaning hullabaloo before our house here? (looking round) Upon my word, it’s Euclio, I do believe. (drawing back) My time has certainly come:  it’s all out.  He’s just learned about his daughter’s child, I suppose.  Now I can’t decide whether to leave or stay, advance or retreat.  By Jove, I don’t know what to do!

IV. 10

    Scene 10.

Eucl.

  Quis homo hic loquitur?

      (hearing sound of voice only) Who’s that talking here?

Lyc.

  Ego sum miser.

      (stepping forward) I’m the poor wretch, sir.

Eucl.

  Immo ego sum, et misere perditus,
  cui tanta mala maestitudoque optigit.

      No, no, I’m the poor wretch, a poor ruined wretch, with all
      this trouble and tribulation.

Lyc.

  Animo bono es.

      Keep your courage up, sir.

Eucl.

  Quo, obsecro, pacto esse possum?

      For heaven’s sake how can I?