SCENE III.
George Colman translation
Syrus alone.
Aye, go your ways! I’ll work your old shrunk shanks
As you deserve, old Drybones!—Æschinus
Loiters intolerably. Dinner’s spoil’d.
Ctesipho thinks of nothing but his girl.
’Tis time for me to look to myself too.
Faith, then I’ll in immediately; pick out
All the tid-bits, and tossing off my cups,
In lazy leisure lengthen out the day.
Exit.