Chrys.

  Quam, inquam, Archidemidem.

      Yes, than Archidemides.

Nic.

  Quid fecit?

      What has he done?

Chrys.

Quid non fecit? quin tu id me rogas? primumdum infitias ire coepit filio, negare se debere tibi triobolum. 260 continuo antiquom hospitem nostrum sibi Mnesilochus advocavit, Pelagonem senem; eo praesente homini extemplo ostendit symbolum. quem tute dederas, ad eum ut ferret, filio.

What hasn’t he done?  Why don’t you ask me that?  Well, in the first place he began lying to your son and disclaimed owing you a single sixpence.  Immediately Mnesilochus summoned that old gentleman, Pelagon, that’s been our friend so long; in his presence he promptly shows the fellow the token, the one you gave your son yourself to carry to him.

Nic.

  Quid ubi ei ostendit symbolum?

      (anxiously) And what when he showed him the token?

Chrys.

Infit dicere adulterinum et non eum esse symbolum. quotque innocenti ei dixit contumelias! adulterare eum aibat rebus ceteris.

      (indignantly) He cries out it’s a counterfeit and not
      the right token at all.  And how he did heap insults on your
      innocent boy!  Said he was an old hand at counterfeiting.

Nic.

  Habetin aurum? id mihi dici volo.

      Have you got the money?  Do tell me that.

Chrys.

  Postquam quidem praetor recuperatores dedit. 270
  damnatus demum, vi coactus reddidit
  ducentos et mille Philippum.

      To be sure, after the judge had appointed arbitrators, he
      was finally convicted, and, under compulsion, he handed over
      twelve hundred pounds.

Nic.

  Tantum debuit.

      (with a sigh of relief) That was all he owed.

Chrys.

  Porro etiam ausculta pugnam quam voluit dare.

      There’s more still, sir,—­listen how he wanted to knock us
      out.

Nic.

  Etiamnest quid porro?

      More still?

Chrys.

  Em, accipitrina haec nunc erit.

      Now then! (aside) This’ll be a regular hawk swoop.

Nic.

  Deceptus sum.  Autolyco hospiti aurum credidi.

      (hotly) I’ve been deceived!  I’ve trusted my gold to an
      Autolycus[H] of a friend!

        [Footnote H:  A noted thief, the grandfather of Ulysses.]

Chrys.

  Quin tu audi.

      Come, come, listen.

Nic.

  Immo ingenium avidi haud pernoram hospitis.

      Ah, no, I didn’t fathom his greedy soul.