1–2
Dorion So, Myrtale! You ruin me first, and then close your doors on me! It was another tale when I brought you all those presents: I was your love, then; your lord, your life. But you have squeezed me dry now, and have got hold of that Bithynian merchant; so I am left to whimper on the wrong side of the door, while he, the favoured lover, enjoys your embraces, and is to become a father soon, so you tell him.
Myrtale Come, Dorion, that is too much! Ruined you, indeed! A lot you ever gave me! Let us go through the list of your presents, from the very beginning.
Dorion Very well; let us. First, a pair of shoes from Sicyon, two drachmae. Remember two drachmae.
Myrtale Ah, but you were here for two nights.
Dorion A box of Phoenician ointment, when I came back from Syria; the box of alabaster. The same price, as I’m a seaman!
Myrtale Well, and when you sailed again, didn’t I give you that waistcoat, that you might have something to wear when you were rowing? It was Epiurus the boatswain’s, that waistcoat; he left it here one night by mistake.
