Lydus

  An deus est ullus Sauvisaviatio? 120

      You mean to say there is a god Kissykissysweetkins?

Pistoc.

An non putasti esse umquam? o Lyde, es barbarus; quem ego sapere nimio censui plus quam Thalem, is stultior es barbaro poticio, qui tantus natu deorum nescis nomina.

You mean to say you didn’t ever suppose there was?  Oh, Lydus, you are a barbarian!  I fancied you were ever so much wiser than Thales and here you are, sillier than a barbarian babe in arms—­your age, and not knowing the names of the gods!

Lydus

  Non hic placet mi ornatus.

      I do not like this paraphernalia.

Pistoc.

  Nemo ergo tibi
  haec apparavit:  mihi paratum est quoi placet.

      Well, nobody got it together for you:  it was got for me, and
      I do like it.

Lydus

  Etiam me advorsus exordire argutias?
  qui si decem habeas linguas, mutum esse addecet.

      Are you actually commencing to make smart replies to me?  You
      whom it befits to be mute, even if you had ten tongues?

Pistoc.

  Non omnis aetas, Lyde, ludo convenit.
  magis unum in mentemst mihi nunc, satis ut commode 130
  pro dignitate opsoni haec concuret cocus.

We aren’t schoolboys for ever, Lydus.  The one thing uppermost in my mind just now is that the cook may do as creditable a job on these edibles as their excellence calls for.

Lydus

  Iam perdidisti te atque me atque operam meam,
  qui tibi nequiquam saepe monstravi bene.

      Ah, now you have thrown yourself away, and me, and my
      labour,—­me, who many a time gave you good advice, all in
      vain!

Pistoc.

  Ibidem ego meam operam perdidi, ubi tu tuam: 
  tua disciplina nec mihi prodest nec tibi.

      I threw away my own labour at the same place you did yours: 
      your system of instruction is no good to either of us.

Lydus

  O praeligatum pectus.

      Oh, what an obdurate breast!

Pistoc.

  Odiosus mihi es.
  tace atque sequere, Lyde, me.

      You’re a bore!  Keep still and come along, Lydus.

Lydus

  Illuc sis vide,
  non paedagogum iam me, sed Lydum vocat.

      Now kindly look at that!  He no longer calls me “Tutor,”
      merely Lydus.

Pistoc.

Non par videtur neque sit consentaneum, cum haec qui emit intus sit et cum amica accubet 140 cumque osculetur et convivae alii accubent, praesentibus illis paedagogus una ut siet.

It’s not the proper thing, it would be out of place, when the man who bought all this is inside there, and on a couch with his mistress, kissing her—­and other guests about—­to have his “Tutor” there in their presence.

Lydus