Mer.

  Nimis hic scitust sycophanta, qui quidem meus sit pater.
  observatote eum, quam blande muliori palpabitur.

      (aside) Ah, he’s a sly old dodger—­does me[D] credit,
      my father does!  Notice how suavely he’ll smooth her down.

        [Footnote D:  Mercury was the patron god of roguery.]

Alc.

  Ecastor te experior quanti facias uxorem tuam.

      (pouting) Oh yes, I’m learning how much you think of your
      wife.

Iup.
    Jup.

  Satin habes, si feminarum nulla est quam aeque diligam?

      (fondly) Isn’t it enough that you’re the dearest woman in
      the world to me? (embraces her)

Mer.

  Edepol ne illa si istis rebus te sciat operam dare 510
  ego faxim ted Amphitruonem esse malis, quam Iovem.

(aside) Now, now, sir!  Just let the lady up yonder (pointing thumb heavenward) learn of your performances here, and I’ll guarantee you’d rather be Amphitryon than Jove.

Alc.

  Experiri istuc mavellem me quam mi memorarier.
  prius abis quam lectus ubi cubuisti concaluit locus.
  heri venisti media nocte, nunc abis. hocin placet?

Actions speak louder than words.  Here you are leaving me before your place on the couch had time to get warm.  You came last night at midnight, and now you are going.  Does that seem right?

Mer.

  Accedam atque hanc appellabo et subparasitabor patri.
  numquam edepol quemquam mortalem credo ego uxorem suam
  sic ecflictim amare, proinde ut hic te ecflictim deperit.

(aside) I’ll go slip a word in and play henchman to my father. (to Alcmena, stepping up) Lord, ma’am, I don’t believe there’s a mortal man alive loves his own wife (glancing slyly at Jupiter) so madly as the mad way he dotes on you.

Iup.
    Jup.

  Carnufex, non ego te novi? abin e conspectu meo?
  quid tibi hanc curatio est rem, verbero, aut muttitio?
  quon ego iam hoc scipione—­

(angrily) You rascal, don’t I know you?  Out of my sight, will you!  What business have you to interfere with this matter, or to breathe a word about it, you scamp?  I’ll take my cane this instant and—­

Alc.

  Ah noli.

      (seizing his arm) Oh, please don’t!

Iup.
    Jup.

  Muttito modo. 520

      You just breathe a word now!

Mer.

  Nequiter paene expedivit prima parasitatio.

      (aside dryly) The henchman’s first try at henching pretty
      nearly came to grief.